Myths and Birthrights: The Archive

Chapters

Chapter Two: Out of the Wilds (R)
Chapter Three: Goddess of the Stars
Chapter Four: The Party (R)
Chapter Five: The Morning After
Chapter Six: The Coronation (R)
Interlude One: The Shaman, the Star, and the Smoke
Chapter Seven: Southstone Spire (R)
Chapter Eight: Journey's Start
Chapter Nine: The Sea Serpent
Chapter Ten: Ask Not The Stars...
Chapter Twelve: Storms On The Horizon
Chapter Thirteen: The Valley of the Eternal Foal
Chapter Fourteen: The Fall
Chapter Fifteen: Seven Wishes
Chapter Sixteen: Goddess of Forests
Interlude Two: To Date a Goddess
Chapter Eighteen: Regrets
Chapter Nineteen: The Eyes of the Sun
Chapter Twenty: The Empress of Zebrica
Chapter Twenty-One: Two Dinners
The Appendixes
Chapter One: The Last Normal Day (R)
Chapter Eleven: The Lost Temple
Chapter Seventeen: The Prince and the Pirate

Chapter Two: Out of the Wilds (R)

Myths and Birthrights

By Tundara

Part One: Awakening and Arrivals

Chapter Two: Out of the Wilds

Gentle moonlight slanted through the soft yellow curtains of the cottage touching the bed sheets that hid a shivering young mare. The cottage itself was warm, the remnants of a fire glowing in the hearth, yet she clutched her blanket tight beneath her chin.

Eyes squeezed shut, she tossed and turned, muttering to herself as she dreamt. Around her bed sat several small birds. They had been awoken by her thrashing and cries. Blue jays sat beside robins as they watched their caretaker moan. A few had tried to wake her, but had been brushed aside by quick swipes of her hooves.

With a great clack the window was flung open, the curtains billowing in an unseasonably cool wind. Ruffling their feathers the birds all jumped to higher perches. Chirping amongst themselves, the birds watched as a soft pink and yellow mist began to leak through the window, down the chimney, and beneath the door. The fire in the hearth died, sputtering in the mist’s cloying talons. Along the floor it crawled, pooling beneath the mare's bed before slowly climbing its way up a bedpost.

Snapping an angry call to the mist, the blue jay fluttered down to the mare and pecked her on the forehead. The mare groaned softly through her muttering a single word before knocking the jay aside.

Hades.

The mist enshrouded the mare completely, engulfing her as it continued to grow. Then it started to act; some flowing into her through her nose and mouth while the rest formed a cloak around her.

The mare sat up in her bed, shifting and stretching her wings, throwing her covers aside, all while her eyes were closed.

The birds all shared concerned looks as, with a strong flap of her long wings, their mistress launched herself out of the window and started walking towards the edge of the Everfree Forest. Flying out the window after her, the birds heard her begin to sing as she walked.

The night of Spring has begun

Play and frolic, all ye young and old

A Goddess calls you to dance with her song

Sheltered beneath the glorious leaves

Stretching out her wings with eyes still closed in dreams the mare wavered from side to side, lifting her voice in an angelic refrain. Birds flitted about from branch to branch as she continued to sleepwalk and sing, each moment taking her deeper and deeper into the forest.

Mother Moon shines so bright among Sister Stars

Dance and spin, all ye young and brave

A Goddess guides you to love with her song

Wander into the forests so bright

The nighttime sounds of the forest vanished beneath the rising voice of the mare, her head tilting back as she sung. A few birds perched upon her back and wings, their voices added into her own in a melodious chorus.

Darkness kept me apart from the world

Yell and shout, all ye bold and strong

A Goddess freed from shadow by her song

Lift up your hearts on tempest breeze to heavens so high

As the song grew low and sad, the mare stepped into a small glade, stars twinkling high above. As she approached the center of the glade, dark shapes circled her; glowing yellow eyes watching her every move.

The night of Spring has begun

Gather and pray, all ye young and old

A Goddess call you to dance to her song

Sheltered beneath the glorious leaves

Letting out a little sigh of contentment, she settled down in the center of the glade, a wing extended over a smallish form. Unaware of the journey she had just taken, the butter-coloured pegasus continued to sleep as the moon sunk behind the distant mountains and the sun began its daily climb, ignorant of the wolf shaped forms creeping into the glade.

* * *

Near the cottage of Fluttershy there exists a narrow, well trod path leading into the heart of the Everfree Forest. If one were to travel down this path for a mile they'd come across the home of one of the most unique inhabitants of the forest, the zebra shaman, Zecora.

A tree-home similar to the Books and Branches Library, Zecora's hut was a simple two room structure constructed inside a living oak. The branches of the hut were heavy with vines and creepers, the air heavy with fog, gloomy even in the brightest day. Very few ponies ever visited Zecora in her home, preferring to speak to her when she came to town for the supplies she couldn't gather in the forest. There were fewer still who braved the walk up to the small brown door past the masks from the zebra's homeland.

Privately, Zecora enjoyed the arrangement.

She was always welcome in Ponyville, and still had the solitude and privacy to practice her craft without constant interruptions.

That morning, however, was not one of those interruption free days.

"Oops, sorry, Zecora," a young, soft yellow filly exclaimed with a hint of panic in her voice. Red mane flying about her head, the filly darted to a vase, yanked the flowers it contained out, and raced back to where she had set a table on fire. Pouring the water in the vase on the small flames, the filly let out a sigh of relief.

Zecora watched with an ever growing look of horror.

"Dear Apple Bloom, you must learn to be careful soon. The plants you so carelessly tossed aside, need constant water or they shrivel and die."

Turning her head to where the zebra pointed, Apple Bloom watched in horror as the bright emerald stems and sapphire petals of the plants began to blacken and waste away. After a few seconds only dead grey husks remained.

"Ah'm really sorry," Apple Bloom said, her ears pressing back and chewing on her lower lip.

"Do not fret or fear, the Starthorn grows rather near. To gather the seeds we must depart, a simple trip to the forest’s heart."

Zecora gave Apple Bloom a reassuring smile as she grabbed a satchel from a peg beside the door.

"Come my apprentice, let's not tarry. For tonight we are invited to a party most merry."

Stepping out into the gloom, the zebra and her apprentice ignored the path, instead forging deeper towards the forest's heart, though heading off the path meant little for the pair as they both knew their way through the forest, as well as knew how to avoid its many dangers. As they travelled, Zecora pointed out various plants, asking Apple Bloom to name them and their uses. It took them but a few minutes to reach the edge of the glade.

After an uneventful trip they reached the edge of the glade.

Zecora's ears twisted, scanning for any strange or threatening noises while Apple Bloom waited at her side. Hundreds of small birds adorned the branches of the trees surrounding the glade, yet the forest was still and quiet.

Narrowing her eyes, Zecora held her hoof out to prevent the excited filly from jumping ahead.

"Dear Apple Bloom, stay close to my side, I fear that nearby a predator does hide," Zecora said, then she stepped out into the bright sun before immediately leaping back into the shelter of the forest.

Rising out of the tall grass of the glade, their bark-like skin creaking, stood almost a dozen Timberwolves. The wood elementals all turned to face the shaman and her apprentice, the golden glow of their eyes narrowing. But they didn't snarl or leap forward, instead they turned away from the zebra and pony.

Standing still, Zecora waited for the timberwolves to settle and she felt it was safe. Heart beating quickly in her chest, Zecora motioned for Apple Bloom to follow her.

Timberwolves weren't a threat unless their offspring were threatened. Most ponies assumed they ate meat because they resembled wolves. But Zecora knew from experience that the timberwolves ignored living prey, and instead subsisted off dead trees and fallen branches. So long as they weren't bothered, they would leave Zecora and Apple Bloom alone to collect their flowers and herbs.

The next creature to step forward, however, wasn't so harmless.

Out of the forest, muscles bulging beneath orange fur, stepped a full-grown manticore. The monster gave Zecora and Apple Bloom a flat glare as it stepped briskly towards the center of the glade, the timberwolves making room for the manticore.

"Something strange is occurring here. It is best we take our leave, my dear," Zecora said.

Her head whipped around when Apple Bloom didn't respond, just catching a glimpse of red vanishing through the grass towards the timberwolves.

"Apple Bloom, come back this instant!" Zecora called, leaping after the vanishing filly.

A moment later she heard Apple Bloom’s voice, "Huh, Ah wasn't expecting that."

Crashing through the ring of timberwolves, Zecora found herself in a small burnt patch of grass. In the center of the ring —with the eyes of the pack of timberwolves, two manticores, and even a chimera watching their every movement— was Apple Bloom and Fluttershy.

The young animal caretaker appeared to be in a deep slumber, with one wing extended over another smaller form.

Too shocked to run, and unable to abandon her apprentice or one of her friends, Zecora tore her gaze from the chimera and cautiously advanced. Lifting Fluttershy's wing, Zecora got a good look at the form, a young filly. Her coat was the colour of clouds at the first hint of sunset, a very soft pink on cottony white. A three toned mane —gold with a streak of cobalt blue bordered by white stripes— draped over the filly's face. Her tail was short and had a fluffy quality, further heightening the impression of clouds.

But the greater surprise was the combination of horn thrusting out from her short ringlets of a mane combined with the wings on her back.

Giving the towering two headed monster above them a cautious glance, Apple Bloom edged close enough to poke the sleeping filly.

"Hey, are yah okay?" Apple Bloom asked.

The sleeping filly's eyes burst open, revealing two eyes as blue as the summer sky. She took one look at Apple Bloom and immediately paled.

"Mneme?"

"Knee me?" Apple Bloom titled her head a little. "What's that mean?"

"It's your name! Isn't it?" the soft-pink filly said, narrowing her eyes and leaning forward to poke Apple Bloom in the chest.

"Naw, my name is Apple Bloom. Pleased to meet you," Apple Bloom said, offering a hoof and a smile.

Zecora slid a little to the side as the new filly looked at Apple Bloom's offered hoof. The filly's nose scrunched up and she stepped backwards, her rump hitting the chimera. Blinking quickly, the filly lifted her eyes from the offered hoof up to the twin heads of the beast above her, then to the pegasus at her side. Zecora braced for the inevitable scream and the monster's attack.

But neither came.

"Artemis?" the filly scrunched up her face as she moved forward, poking Fluttershy in the ribs a couple times.

Eyes flittering open, the young mare looked about for several moments, sleep-drunk, and then she shot upright when she noticed the ring of monsters.

"Z-Zecora? A-Apple Bloom? W-what's going on?" she shivered, then let out a little 'meep' when she noticed the chimera. "Oh my, how did I get way out here?"

"Perhaps it is best for the question to wait, until we are in a far safer state," the shaman said, still watching the monsters for any hostile movement.

Hiding behind her mane, Fluttershy gave a small nod. Slowly the three ponies and zebra left the ring, all of the monsters eyes watching them as the disappeared back into the shadows of the forest. Once they had left the glade behind, Zecora let out a breath she hadn't been aware she was holding.

"Zecora, what just happened?" Apple Bloom asked from beside the mysterious filly.

"I am afraid I do not know, why aggression they did not show."

The Starthorn plants had been entirely forgotten. Zecora had only two thoughts on her mind. Why Fluttershy and the young alicorn had been in the glade, and that both needed to be brought to Ponyville. The shaman could think of no pony better suited to providing answers than the town's librarian, except perhaps one of the princesses.

As they approached the forest’s edge, Zecora turned her head to the filly. "I do not believe we have been introduced. I am Zecora, as you may have deduced."

The filly seemed startled, as she had been deep in thought. She gave Zecora a long appraising look, one that felt like it saw beyond skin and bone and into the zebra's essence.

Stopping, the filly gave a short bow, saying, "I am Tyr, daughter of Love and Duty. I thank you for coming to my aid, brave heroes. When I return to Mount Alicornus I will ensure you are all justly rewarded."

The other three ponies shared a confused look before Apple Bloom spoke up.

"Ain't never heard of a 'Mount Alicornus', but Ah'm sure you'll be right welcome in Ponyville until we can find your parents. Maybe you can stay with me and my family. We got plenty of room out on the farm. Oh, then you can meet Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle! We'll be great friends, ah'm sure."

Apple Bloom continued to chatter, her words almost tumbling out on top of each other, as the small group made their way out of the forest and towards the town.

* * *

Ponyville was covered in banners of every colour and shade, happily proclaiming the start of the Celebration of Life. Lampposts were covered in hyacinth and poppy flowers, and the air was thick with the floral scents. Fillies and colts ran about in excited groups, playing, laughing, and generally enjoying the start of two weeks free from school. The flower sisters' stall had a brisk trade as mares hopeful to conceive during the approaching season bought poppy flowers and stuck them behind their right ear.

The flowers were said to bring the blessing of Celestia and increase the chances of conception. An ancient belief pre-dating the war of the Sun and Moon when, in addition to her duties controlling the sun, Celestia had also been revered as a goddess of fertility.

In private Celestia had told Twilight how she was thankful she'd managed over the centuries to curb that particular belief.

Leaving the small ritual of the flowers was harmless, and even made Celestia smile when she'd see the mares with the red blossoms. The custom was a reminder of good days past, and the promise and hope for a brighter tomorrow.

Twilight watched as a pair of ponies, a tan earth pony and a dapple grey pegasus, purchased a flower, the earth pony tucking it behind his wife's ear. A little smile touched her lips similar to the one Celestia would always get this time of year.

Turning away from the scene in the town square, Twilight returned her attention to Cadence and her brother. The Princess was receiving a lot of looks, but she seemed to be ignoring them for the most part. One of her wings was extended protectively around her husband. Twilight chuckled, knowing how Cadence could be overprotective. It was something she’d become accustomed to, considering Cadence had been her foal sitter.

"So, neither of you have any idea what mother and father want to tell me?" Twilight asked for the tenth time since they'd sat down for breakfast.

Cadence looked Twilight straight in the eye and shook her head.

Twilight would have believed her sister-in-law, if not for one small detail; she could never see through Cadence’s lies. This inability had been one of the many reasons Twilight had grown suspicious of Queen Chrysalis before the changeling invasion.

It also made Cadence a nightmare at card-games.

Shining, on the other hoof, couldn't lie to her any more than Twilight could lie to Celestia. That he seemed to be as uncertain about this important news wasn't helping Twilight's anxiety.

"When do you think they'll tell me? I hate all this waiting. It gives my brain too much time to conjure the worst case scenario. What if they tell me that they've arranged a marriage?"

Cadence and Shining both gave Twilight a dead-pan look that should have made her realise how ludicrous her statement was, but she was in no condition for reassurance.

"I mean, the practice has fallen out of favour. But our House is old and very powerful now. And I am a Countess, not that I'm a Countess of much. Just an empty forest. And mother used to go on about how important her title as a Baroness was and how it allowed us the privileged access to the School for Gifted Unicorns and the Royal Guard. Oh, Celestia, what if mother has arranged a marriage between me and Blueblood!"

A laugh like the chiming of silver bells snapped Twilight out of her rant. Blinking away the horrible images of herself wearing a wedding dress beside the oafish so-called prince, Twilight shot Cadence a look.

"Twilight, I can assure you that Celestia would never allow your mother to arrange a marriage for you," Cadence reached across the table to pat her sister-in-law on the hoof.

Arching an eyebrow at the statement, a dozen questions whipping around her mind as to why Celestia would interfere in the affairs of a noble House, Twilight instead abandoned the line of thought and plunged into another worry filled monologue.

"You're right, it isn't an arranged marriage. They are going to tell me I'm adopted and am being removed from the House. Celestia will be so—"

"Twilight, stop!" Cadence snapped before Twilight could delve into the anxiety bubbling in her breast. "No matter what happens tonight, your parents aren't going to disown you and remove you from House Sparkle. That much I can assure you."

Nodding quickly, and taking a long drink of her apple juice, Twilight slowly calmed herself realizing that Cadence was right. She was working herself up again. Groaning, Twilight massaged her temples. It was then that a hoof wrapped itself around Twilight, making her cry out in surprise.

"How is my little Sparky?" asked a deep, cultured voice connected to the hoof. "Not worrying too much, I hope. You've been keeping your sister calm, right Shiny?"

"As much as I am able. I think only the Princesses and mother can really keep Twily level-headed."

Shining shot his sister a wink as their father took a seat between them. Twilight pressed a hoof to her chest to still her rapidly beating heart.

Her father —a blue unicorn with a dark blue mane and two crescent moons for a cutie mark, one inside the curve of the other— gave his daughter a long stare before nodding.

"I'm okay, father," Twilight said, giving him what she hoped was a convincing smile.

"She's been going on about how mother is going to kick her out of the House, or she's been adopted, or how mother is arranging a marriage between her and Blueblood."

"Shiny!" Twilight snapped, a blush blossoming behind her dark fur.

Laughing, Comet Seeker just shook his head.

"Oh, I'm sure your mother would be arranging a marriage right now if she thought she could get away with it."

"You're not telling fibs again, are you dear?" purred a silky voice behind the stallion, wiping the smile off his face. Velvet Sparkle slipped up beside her husband and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, adding, "Because, if he is, I'll have to give him a stern lecture about tormenting a pony on her birthday."

Turning away from a chagrined Comet Chaser, Velvet Sparkle gave Twilight a hug before settling into the last remaining chair.

"So, are you two going to tell me what this news I had to be twenty-one to hear is all about?"

Twilight's parents shared a deep and worried look, one that did little but rekindle the fires of anxiety that burned in Twilight.

"It is best if we have that conversation tonight, after the party. It's very private and a street cafe is no place to have it," Velvet said, giving her daughter a sympathetic pat on the withers.

Her face contorted as she fought to gain control of her emotions before finally deflating with an exasperated sigh.

"Okay, well, I see that—" Twilight's voice trailed off, her ears beginning to flick erratically.

"Twily? You okay?" Shining asked as his sister's eyes began to dart around the cafe.

For a moment Twilight looked at the crowd starting to gather for the Mayor's speech, but quickly moved on. All around her was a soft chittering chorus of whispers. Twilight knew from experience that she wouldn’t see the source of the whispers.

Twilight had first started hearing the whispers while still a filly and starting her tutelage under Celestia. They always came suddenly, and left without explanation. At first Twilight had thought she was being spied on or made fun by the palace staff, but had quickly disproved that theory. Over the last month the whispers had appeared more and more often. Twilight could never manage to understand what the voices were saying. Comprehension always hovered just out of reach.

"Sparky?"

"Shush!" Twilight snapped at her father, straining harder and harder to finally hear and understand the whispers. The truth was finally so close, she could feel it. Closing her eyes, Twilight began to join the whispering. At first she just made an unintelligible hissing, then she started to speak, "Two mistresses... Shadows and sorrows cloud her heart... They are in danger—"

Twilight was brought out of her reverie as a hoof connected with the side of her head. Crying out, Twilight lost the whispers. Around her tables and chairs clattered to the ground while a few ponies released cries of surprise. Rubbing her muzzle, Twilight opened her eyes and found Princess Cadence right in front of her, the princess' eyes critically examining Twilight.

"Ow, what was that for?"

Smiling sadly, Cadence simply stated, "Twilight, you were starting to have a magic flare."

Twilight snapped upright as her anger dissipated, quickly being replaced by a wave of fear. She hadn't had a magic flare in years. Far from a fool, it didn't take Twilight more than a second to put the two together. Her heart began to race as she started to wonder about the implications. Around her she was receiving fearful looks from the other patrons of the cafe.

"I'm sorry!" she blurted out even as she reached inside for her magic to escape the judgemental glares of everypony.

The spell matrix had barely began to form when Twilight noticed something was wrong. Very, very wrong. Her magic felt off. Different. Weird. What was normally a vast, calm pool of aether just waiting to be summoned was instead a swirling, frothing ocean whipped about by a violent storm.

"Twilight, wait!" Cadence started to say, but in a brilliant magenta flash accompanied by crack of thunder, Twilight vanished. "Oh, ponyfeathers!"

* * *

"A new age dawns!" The general cried to the throaty boom of ten thousand voices. "An age of glory! An age free of hungry bellies and the pitiful cries of starving chicks! The Age of Steel and Blood!"

Gilda watched with bated breath as the general strode the lines of griffon soldiers. Many had only weeks earlier been little more than commoners scraping for survival in the aeries of Southstone Spire. None had dreamed of battle or that their aerie would rise again to glory. For them, the aerie was both their refuge and their prison, a prison surrounded by the Zebras on one side, the Camels on another, and the remaining aeries to the north.

Once, so long ago that the memories had faded into dust and shadow, the griffons had ruled all the land they surveyed from the tops of the towers sitting on great Kiligrifjaro. To the north resided the citadels of Bloodrock Spire and Steelbeak Spire. The three aeries had been the united heart of a great empire, one that stretched from the domain of the massive elephants in the land where the sun slept to what was now Equestria. It had been the Pegasi and the Halla, of all the worlds races, that had laid the empire low.

The winged equines' Legions had proven to be a match for the griffons. No two pegasus legions had fought alike, and the constant changes in tactics and strategy had stymied the empire until they were beaten back to their ancestral aeries. Weakened by the pegasi, the griffons had been unable to resist when the subjugated races of their lands rose up to cast off their shackles.

But even the vaunted pegasus legions were nothing to the enraged Halla.

Few knew what had driven the isolationists from their home north of the ponies. Legends whispered in hushed voices to chicks as they clung to their mothers in the cold of night spoke of the Eternal Herd, a great sea of bodies that surged from the frozen forests. So large was the herd that it would stretch from horizon to horizon, an endless sea of proud warriors that couldn’t be slowed, much less stopped. The details varied, but all accounts agreed that the Halla cast down the aerie of Northrock Towers until only the ghosts of walls remained clutching to the mountain's side. With the aerie destroyed, the Halla vanished, and had not been seen again.

But that was all ancient history. Now, they would reclaim what was theirs. The Griffon Empire would rise again, as prophecy foretold. First they had to reclaim their hunting grounds. It was a shame they were being held by other griffons, wrongfully claimed by Bloodrock Spire.

The general's golden eyes turned to face the larger army fielded by the other aerie. There were almost two of them for every griffon from Southstone Spire.

"We have been driven from our hunting grounds. We have been persecuted, spat upon, and made unwelcome in the world beyond the walls of the aerie. No more, I say!" The general, her mottled grey-brown feather's twitching spun to face her army, the soldiers stamping clawed feet in agreement. "We will reclaim our hunting grounds. We will reclaim our lands. And we will reclaim our pride! What say you?"

The army screeched in agreement.

"Not all of will return to our nests this night. But know this; those of us who die this day give their lives to usher in an age of hope for the aerie!"

Another chorus of cheers erupted from the gathered host.

"Some of you were exiles. Some of you were craftsbirds, or beggars, or labourers. Some few are of the nobility. None of that matters now. Look to the griffon beside you. Today they are your brother or sister! Tomorrow they will be your brother or sister! For all the rest of time, we are all brothers and sisters!"

"Exciting, isn't it, cousin?" chuckled a youthful voice beside Gilda.

Turning her head slighty, Gilda looked towards her younger cousin. She was barely out of her juvenile feathers, with black tipped crest feathers and primaries. Her fur was a soft tawny brown, and her tail darted back and forth; a clear sign of excitement.

"It sure is, Blinka," Gilda smiled wide.

The butterflies and apprehension she'd had that morning, and most of the week, were being swept aside. In their place burned a fire and passion. Gilda was many things —gruff, arrogant, a bit callous perhaps— but until answering the summons to join the army and seeing the aerie for the first time, she'd never been afraid. That was the past though, and as the general spoke Gilda stood tall and proud.

Gilda felt her own voice added to the rolling thunder coming from the rag-tag army. She knew they were little to look at. The griffons wore a mishmash of armour. Some wore boiled leather, others were covered in chain or scale-mail. A clawful wore the ancient breastplate of the old empire. They'd be the younger sons or daughters of the few noble prides left in the aerie.

Growing up as the daughter of exiles in Equestria, Gilda had seen proper armour. The royal guard of Canterlot in particular were resplendent in their golden-toned plate. She knew that hidden in the armories, true steel platemail was stored for the day the ponies were ever faced with a war. Though noone had declared war on Equestria in centuries, largely due to the Goddess of the Sun who resided amongst the ponies.

Even if an invader won, who'd raise the Sun and Moon each night?

This wasn't such a war. The griffons had no Alicorns that were integral to the working of the world. No goddess lived among their aeries to grant them protection or guidance.

A wide smile was on the young griffon's beak, one mirrored on her cousin's face. For the first time they had looked upon their ancestral home, discovering that it once had been a power to rival that of Canterlot. And now both were pardoned of their ancestor's crimes; welcomed back among the aerie like so many other young hatchlings of the exiled.

The general, finished with her speech, took to the air and joined her unit, one of very few with proper uniforms and matching armour.

With that the entire army tensed, ready for takeoff at the sound of the warhorns.

"Just stay near me, Blinka. I'll make sure those Bloodrock dweebs won't get near you," Gilda gave her cousin a cocky grin.

A taunting laugh escaped Blinka’s beak as she quipped, "Oh yeah, I bet you three mice I get the first kill."

"Settle your feathers, soldiers," grunted a deep voice. "Don't be so quick or glad to take a life. Those aren't prey over there, they are killers and hunters, just like us. Mind yourself, and watch your angles, and you just might return to the aerie tonight."

Gilda and Blinka turned to look at the older griffon behind them. His face was scarred, and his scalemail armour was well worn, having seen many fights. Both just nodded their heads and watched as the veteran moved off to inspire or cajole other young griffons. When he was out of sight, Gilda returned to waiting, rolling her shoulders to keep loose and distract her from the few butterflies in her stomach.

She did not have to wait long.

The brass horns of the captains sounded, one long peal telling the griffons to ready themselves. Tensing her legs and flicking her claws, Gilda stretched her long graceful wings.

Like many among the pardoned, she wore very little in the way of protection —just a simple barding of boiled zebra hide. A part of her, the part that had grown up among the ponies, recoiled at the thought of wearing what had once been a living, breathing, talking zebra. Had it been a he or she? Did it have any children or descendants? Gilda's skin crawled beneath the grisly armour.

The part of her more in tune with her predatory heritage was thrilled, singing for the coming battle. Rending claws would become deadly weapons. A tearing beak would taste blood. She could barely keep herself from leaping to the air without the command of the captains.

After what felt like an eternity, the horns rang out in two quick harsh blasts.

Together, the griffons took to the sky, their opponents on the other side of the valley following suit. The units —flocks Gilda reminded herself— formed into loose wedges. The wedges then came together to form a large cone, with the lightly armoured conscripts and volunteers near the front protecting the crossbow wielding griffons behind, with the heavier cataphract flocks between.

There were few manoeuvres, the two armies simply charging towards each other.

Pumping her wings hard to maintain her position, Gilda pressed towards the enemy with talons flexed and eyes narrowed. And many took their final breaths.

And then, high above the yellow plains of Zebrica, the two armies collided.

The sky dissolved into a sea of madness around Gilda, griffon grappling griffon. The bodies of the dead began to rain from the sky. Units quickly dissolved, the sky becoming a series of smaller fights. Into the madness, the cataphracts swept into the sides, their heavy bodies crushing down through friend and foe alike.

Gilda quickly lost track of Blinka in the chaos. Tucking her wings, Gilda dived, talons flashing out to lacerate the flight muscles of a Bloodrock griffon that looked to be barely into adulthood. She gave out a pained squawk as Gilda's talons found a hole in his armour and tore into flesh. Screaming in pain and fear, she plummeted towards the cold, uncaring earth.

Gilda didn't have time to think or contemplate what she had just done as she beat her wings to gain altitude. She needed to find Blinka. Crossbow bolts hissed through the air between the two armies.

A sharp sting in her flank made her hesitate in a stroke of her wings. Coincidentally, this saved her life as a Bloodrock in heavy plate sailed through the space she should have been in. Screeching, the armoured griffon banked around, lifting a heavy broadsword in his claws. Thanking her lucky star, Gilda gave her wings a quick double flap and then spun down towards her opponent.

At her heart, Gilda was a racer, growing up with her chick-hood friend, Rainbow Dash. Not a sprinter like the pegasus, but an endurance flier. Tucking one wing to her side and flicking the other out in a maneuver Dash had once shown her, Gilda entered a loose spinning roll. Behind the helmet her adversary wore, Gilda could see confusion.

Gilda smiled.

Wings flicking in and out in precisely timed motions, Gilda altered her roll, and swung into a climb. The Bloodrock's sword hummed through the air, the blade lightly kissing the feathers of Gilda's cheek and throat. Then Gilda was on his back, wings spread and straining to hold them both aloft.

Back legs began to kick and rake, scraping and squealing against the hardened steel, while her talons dug into the gaps between the plates in the griffon's neck. Howling in pain, the griffon beneath her tried to throw her off. Gilda gripped tighter, refusing to be shaken from her prey.

"Like buck I am going to—" Gilda's taunt ended in a light howl as a sharp pain cut across the right of her chest, bouncing from rib to rib.

Twisting to her left, Gilda rolled around the Bloodrock griffon and saw that he had reversed his grip on his sword to drive it behind him. Again and again, the Bloodrock soldier drove the sword at Gilda. Sucking in her gut and wrenching herself side to side, Gilda narrowly avoided a second stinging kiss from the blade. Inches from each other, and with their own blood flowing down their armour, Gilda kicking her back legs sideways, rolling around so she was face to face with her opponent. Using the speed and surprise of her maneuver to her advantage, Gilda grabbed at the talons holding the sword with one claw, and her opponent’s helmet with the other.

Tensing her legs and exposed belly for an anticipated raking by the larger and armoured griffon, Gilda was shocked when it never came. Instead, the talon of her hallux found the gap in the Bloodrock griffon's helmet for his eyes. There was a scream, followed by the griffon clutching at his face as he let go of his sword and fell backwards out of the sky.

Grasping the sword before it followed its owner, Gilda turned to see she had fallen to the bottom levels of the battle. Above her, a swarming sea of griffons fought and clawed at each other, a steady stream of bodies tumbling towards the ground. Gilda’s eyes were inexperienced, but she was fairly certain that Southstone Spire was losing. Gripping her new sword tightly, Gilda began to climb back towards the melee, only to stop when she saw four Bloodrock griffons diving.

They weren't diving towards her, but were chasing one of the few griffons Gilda recognised. Blinka swept her wings in fast inexpert strokes only a few lengths ahead of her pursuers.

Out-numbered, Blinka was doing the only thing she could; run. Gilda tucked her wings to her side and began to dive away towards her cousin's pursuers. Blinka flared her wings as she approached the earth littered with the fallen, trying to put on some extra speed. Looking over her shoulder, she saw all four of the enemy still following her, and Gilda behind them.

Over broken grass, covered with the dead and dying, the six griffons sped.

The wound in her side burned as Gilda continued to stroke the air with her wings. She felt her tempo slowing with each beat of her wings. Glaring ahead, she saw that the Bloodrock's had gained almost three lengths on her cousin. She wouldn't reach Blinka in time, Gilda realised. Snarling to herself, Gilda looked to the sword in her claws.

Blinka, looking over her shoulder at her pursuers, saw that they were almost on her. In a last-ditch attempt to lose her pursuers, she swung around a shallow outcrop of stone and clipped the top of a dead tree. Crying out, Blinka tumbled and slammed into the ground, rolling to stop. Gilda's heart leapt into her throat as she stared at her unmoving cousin.

The four Bloodrock griffons landed around Blinka, one laughing as he walked towards her.

Blood pounding in her ears, Gilda screamed as she tucked her wings and drove into the laughing Bloodrock's back, broadsword leading the way. Gilda rolled off the Bloodrock and to her feet between the three remaining enemies and her cousin.

"You dweebs aren't laying one talon on her, got it?" Gilda snarled as she panted for breath.

The three remaining Bloodrock griffons looked at her, and then laughed as they advanced.

"Gilda, go, leave me," Blinka coughed behind her cousin.

Gilda winced at the wet sound in her cousin's voice. Common sense told her that even without the Bloodrock griffons, Blinka probably wasn't going to survive after such a crash. It was a miracle that she was even still alive, let alone conscious. But Gilda refused to leave her cousin. Blinka was the last friend Gilda had in the world.

Setting her shoulders, oddly at peace with what was going to happen, Gilda lifted her head a little and looked past the three griffons facing her and towards the sprawling battle in the sky. As she did she saw a sight that would be seared into her memory.

A massive blue ball of fire was falling out of the western sky directly towards the warring griffons. Long trails of fire and smoke billowing in its wake, the fireball descended in a terrible roar. It was only a few moments before the fireball smashed through the back ranks of the Bloodrock forces. Griffons vanished into the billowing, bright blue flames. The fireball shuddered, and with a resounding crack that echoed as far away as the capitol of Zebrica, it detonated.

In an instant, over half the griffons still airborne were struck from the sky. From the heart of the explosion a small blue light blasted forward like a bolt, screaming along faster than the fireball itself had fallen. Gilda and the three Bloodrock griffons stood transfixed by the sight of grass bowing before a rushing invisible wall that chased the blue object. A pressure wave, Gilda realised, turning at the last instant to fling herself over her cousin, wings spread to shield Blinka.

She had just gotten her claws around Blinka when the object struck the ground, the pressure wave sweeping over the three Bloodrocks and tossing them back into the air. Only the small outcrop of stone that had hidden the tree that felled Blinka spared Gilda and her cousin, shielding them from the worst of the wave. Stones and twigs buffeted Gilda, clenching her beak as she was pelted with debris, her wings taking the worst of the punishment.

Ears ringing, Gilda slowly stood on shaking legs.

"Blinka? Blinka, answer me!" Gilda screamed, though she could barely hear herself through the ringing in her ears.

Heart hammering, Gilda watched, waiting for any sign of life or movement from Blinka. She wished that she had paid more attention during first aid lessons at flight camp. They had always seemed so dull and boring. Now she cursed herself for being 'too cool' for basic first aid.

"Come on Blinka, don't you leave me too," Gilda said, tears creeping into the corners of her eyes as she laid one claw on her cousins shoulder. "Not you too, not you too, you big softy."

"Heh, I'm not the one crying," Blinka moaned, her sudden movement and voice caused Gilda to jump, a yelp of joy escaping her beak.

Blinka protested as Gilda hugged her then moved back and gave her a soft punch to the shoulder.

"Don't you scare me like that again, you featherbrain!" Gilda snarled around tears. Turning her head so Blinka wouldn't see her crying, Gilda asked, "Can you fly? Or at least walk?"

Standing slowly on quivering legs, Blinka looked to the twisted shape that her right wing had become. Crimson coated feathers did little to hide the shattered bones bulging against the skin. Fire lanced through shattered sinew, and it took all Blinka’s strength not to void her stomach. Shaking her head slowly, her eyes clearly showing the pain she was trying to hide, Blinka said, "I don't think I'll be flying for a while."

Nodding slowly, Gilda looked back towards where the battle had raged. There wasn't a single griffon visible in the sky. Not knowing if any had survived, Gilda turned back towards her cousin and sighed.

"Looks like we're hoofing it back to the aerie."

Blinka cringed at the idea of walking the leagues to the aerie, but didn't protest. Shucking off her soiled and torn armour, Gilda began to limp back towards home. The two walked side by side, each using the other for support. If stopped, both would have said that they were merely helping the other. After a few hundred yards Gilda spotted where the object that had devastated the griffons had landed.

“You up to checking this out?” Gilda asked.

“Not much choice,” Blinka turned her beak up into a smile, “It’s in our way.”

For the speed and power with which the object had descended, the crater was rather small. Eyes darting left and right in case it was a trap, Gilda and Blinka slid down into the shallow crater. Stepping around a protruding boulder blackened by fire, the two griffons came across a small blue object.

As one both recognised it as a pony, a filly just out of foal-hood judging by its size. Her coat was a dark blue, like the northern sea, and her mane a soft blue that seemed to shimmer and sparkle. Wings were clearly visible, the tips of the primaries a faded white.

"A pony filly? That fireball was a filly?" Blinka said, a disbelieving note piercing her voice.

"Not just any filly," Gilda muttered as she stepped around the filly. With a sweep of her talons she brushed back the short bouncy mane to reveal a slender horn.

"An Alicorn?" Blinka gulped, falling back on her rump, beak falling open. "Here? And a filly? But?"

Gilda gazed down at the sleeping filly. She looked so peaceful, the griffon thought to herself even as her mind began to dredge up everything it knew or had heard about the almost all-powerful Alicorns.

There were supposed to only be three Alicorns, Gilda knew. They also by their mere presence in Equestria helped keep most enemies at bay. If Southstone Spire had an Alicorn... and with her being so young she'd be impressionable and easy to mold to the griffons purposes. Grinning broadly, Gilda looked towards her cousin.

"Blinka, I think we just found the answer to all our problems."

Chapter Three: Goddess of the Stars

Myths and Birthrights

By Tundara

Part One: Awakening and Arrivals

Chapter Three: Goddess of the Stars

With a gentle pop of magic that smelled of lilacs, Twilight Sparkle appeared in her bedroom. She wanted to take a few moments to try to calm herself, to lessen the blossoming embarrassment and panic that made her heart clench tight in her chest and her thoughts swim in a hazy sea. She wanted to sit, repeat her mantras and breathing exercises.

Except the voices wouldn't let her.

Where before there had been only a few there were dozens, and more seemed to be adding themselves into the mix with every passing moment. Twilight felt like she was sitting in the throne room in Canterlot during one of the more rambunctious Day Court sessions. The only difference was she couldn't see any of the ponies, or voices in this case, arguing, only hear them. It was making rational thought very difficult.

"Quiet, please, just be quiet!" Twilight shouted to the empty room, pressing her hooves to her temples and briskly massaging.

For a few precious seconds there was silence, the voices seeming to hear her plea, then they broke out in a riot of noise twice as loud.

Groaning, tears streaming down her face, Twilight staggered towards her bathroom. She had a potion made by Zecora that could help, she hoped. It was only to be used in emergencies, the zebra had stressed that point several times while brewing the potion. Zecora claimed it would relax the mind and sweep away anxiety like a wave washing clear hoof prints on a beach. The shaman had also repeated over and over that the effects of the potion were highly addictive, as well as having a lessening effect with every potion taken.

Knowing her own obsessive tendencies, Twilight had always been too afraid to use the potion, and so it had sat hidden behind a box of bath salts on a shelf.

If there ever was a need for the potion, it was right then, Twilight reasoned. She tossed the door open, her magic flaring so it flew from its hinges to shatter against the far wall. Splinters rained and sprinkled her coat, but Twilight didn't care. Other than the voices, the only thing in her head was the single goal of Zecora's potion and the promise of relief it offered. Unwilling to risk another magic flare destroying the potion, Twilight lashed out, striking the bath salts from the shelf to the floor where they clattered and spilled across the polished wood. Twilight grabbed the potion in trembling hooves.

Pulling the stopper out with her teeth, Twilight downed the potion in long greedy gulps. It tasted like a combination of molasses and turpentine, with a smell as strong. Her gorge rose to eject the foul concoction, and it was only with tremendous willpower the young mare managed to keep from spewing the potion on her mirror and floor.

She felt so much calmer and in control as the potion settled in her stomach. The world was like a moonlit seashore, waves gently lapping at her hooves. No tense muscles, no magic flares, just serenity, and thousands of voices vying for her attention.

Twilight's eyes flew open, and she sat down with a thump at the realization.

The voices weren't gone, they had multiplied by at least ten.

Yet the potion was doing exactly as it was supposed to be doing. Twilight lifted her hoof to examine it in the soft early afternoon light. She had never felt so calm or collected, ever. Quickly, Twilight tested some math and numbers in her head, counting Pi to the twelfth decimal place, easy things Twilight used to do for fun.

"Twilight? Is that you?" Spike's voice filtered in through the broken door.

Spike walked into the bedroom, a basket filled with party decorations in his claw. The dragon and Pinkie had been decorating the library for the party, Twilight recalled, still more focused on her hoof and sorting out why she was hearing 6531 voices. Tilting her head a little, Twilight knew the number was accurate and had stopped growing. Also, without the rising tide of panic, she realized that the voices had been concerned for her.

There were too many to pick out any one individual voice from the cacophony, but Twilight felt like she didn't need to in order to understand. A lopsided grin began to form on her face, and Twilight looked over to her number one assistant.

"Yeah, I'm in here, Spike," Twilight said as she trotted out of the ruined bathroom.

"Whoa, what happened here?" Spike asked, his emerald eyes taking in the mess Twilight had made. "And why are you smiling like Rainbow that time Pinkie baked those 'special brownies' that no pony would let me try?"

Whatever Twilight was about to say was lost as she fell to her knees releasing an ear splitting scream. Pain, an un-Celestial amount of pain, exploded through Twilight, rippling down from her horn to the tip of her tail. Twilight couldn't hear Spike as the drake ran to his surrogate sister's side, his voice filled with concern and worry. She didn't even notice Pinkie as the normally laughing and fun loving mare burst into the room.

As quick as the pain came it vanished, leaving Twilight panting on her side. Groaning, she tried to sit up, but found that her legs were being rather uncooperative.

"Twi', you okay? Should I get somepony?" the normally bouncy voice of Pinkie was strained and taught as a drawn bow.

"No, I'm fine, I think it was just a reaction to—" Twilight's voice trailed off as she was helped into her bed.

At the base of her horn she felt a small growing thrum of building magic. Scrunching her eyes closed she tried to block the impending discharge, but it was a bit like trying to halt a buffalo stampede with a stop sign. Behind the magic she could hear approval and anticipation tingeing the voices.

"Pinkie, y-you need to take Spike and get out of the library," Twilight groaned, her teeth grinding together as she fought to hold back the magic, little sparks starting to shoot from the tip of her horn.

"What, but Twilight—" Spike started to protest, but was cut off by Twilight.

"Now! Please!"

Pinkie didn't stop to ask questions, she grabbed Spike and tossed the protesting dragon onto her back. With Spike protesting from her back, she then leapt out the nearby window, performing a flip as they fell, and then bouncing off a trampoline to land safely beside the library. Twilight was thankful both to Pinkie for having the sense to listen without any of her normal bubbling questions, and for Zecora's potion. Without it she was certain she'd have been too panicked and afraid to give the warning in time.

It was a near thing even with the artificial serenity granted by the potion. As soon as Pinkie vanished through the window, Twilight stopped trying to hold back the magic and was swept aside in a torrent of ancient and unfathomable energy.

* * *

The fresh spring air was brisk and refreshing as it caressed Luna's face. The midnight blue alicorn raised her face, eyes lightly closed, to the wind's touch as she leaned forward in her chariot. High above, her sister's charge was beginning a lazy descent towards the horizon and night; while in the back of her mind Luna could feel the moon dreaming.

It was a pleasurable experience for the Princess, one that never failed to put a smile on her lips.

Today the moon was dreaming of the stars, the thousands of little points of light that kept it company each night. Luna could see the dream like she was watching a play with the moon as a big strong alicorn sitting at a dainty table having tea with Alioth, Polaris, Rastaban, and Subra. In the dream the stars were all unicorns, their cutie marks the constellations they belonged within.

The dream was common enough that Luna didn't have to pay attention to the details to know what was happening, so she just smiled and tried to relax. The moon's dream brought forward unpleasant thoughts and memories in its mistress, a faint nagging sensation ending any semblance of enjoying the flight down to Ponyville.

Ever since Luna's return from her imprisonment within the moon the stars had been at best persnickety and often outright dismissive of Luna. At first she chalked it up to her loss of power from the effects of the Elements cleansing her of Nightmare Moon. Gradually that idea had dimmed as she regained her power and the connection with the moon seemed as strong as it had ever been, while the stars seemed to grow more distant. A few months after her return, Luna had tried to re-arrange a portion of the night sky. She had never been that pleased with how clustered some of the stars were in the constellation Gemini.

For several nights she had argued, cajoled, bribed, and even resorted to begging the stars to move. Only when she resorted to direct threats had the stars finally moved. Happy that some progress seemed to have been made, she had gone to bed that morning with a smile on her face and a skip in her step.

The next night she found the stars back in their original locations and steadfastly ignoring her.

Luna had been beside herself with worry and anger, kicking open the doors to the throne room with the Day Court only half-way through. It had taken all Celestia's legendary patience and tact to calm her sister down as Luna alternated between shouting obscenities out the window to the hidden stars above and breaking down in tearful sobs. The tub of chocolate and mint ice cream has also helped, Luna admitted privately.

Once Luna had been calmed down Celestia shared a pet theory she'd been silently harbouring, one that had only grown stronger since Luna's release.

Luna was no longer responsible for the stars. Instead, they were looking to a new mistress.

Whatever reaction Celestia had been expecting, most likely explosive epithets followed by violence towards nearby furniture, it wasn't what she received. Luna had sat calmly for several long minutes staring at her own billowing mane in a mirror, then closed her eyes and silently asked the stars themselves if what her sister said was true. They hadn't confirmed anything, but neither had they made any attempts to deny the accusation.

More recently Luna had taken to likening the stars to teenagers, the way they sulked about the night or ignored her when she sent her awareness into the sky. The number of conversations that were halted just by her approach outnumbered the stars themselves. Luna actually felt more welcome among the nobles of the court then she did her own night.

But all that could be changing in the coming nights if Celestia's guess held true, and Celestia was rarely wrong.

A thermal jolted the chariot a little, bringing Luna out of her musings. She was about to playfully chid the two Night Guards pulling the chariot when she heard them. It began as a quiet murmur of conversation between Pollux and Ras Thaoum, the two Gemini stars whispering back and forth in excited giggles. Then Propus joined into the conversation.

Chewing on her lower lip, but dreadfully curious what the stars were doing awake during the day, Luna stealthily sent her awareness up into the azure sky. The conversation hitched for a moment between the three stars, only to continue unabated a moment later.

There are two of them, why are there two of them? Something's wrong. Pollux nervously flickered, the equivalent of a star wringing it's hooves.

The other is new, and similar, yes, but just a whisper and a memory carried by the winds. She isn't the mistress, not *our** mistress at least,* said Ras Thaoum, the star darkening to a deep red shade revealing the stars anger twinged with concern.

She's so sad and worried. I just want to pluck her up and give her a hug, sighed Propus. And those three poor little things she brought with her and the—.

Shush, Propus, can't you see the Avatar of the Moon is near? That is star business, not hers.

Luna winced, Pollux's words almost like a physical slap to the face. She was sorely tempted to ask what the stars were talking about, but she already suspected it had to do with the three alicorns that had appeared the previous night. None had yet shown themselves, which was worrying, but Celestia was dealing with that situation while Luna was going to deal with another.

Oh, come now, what would loony Luna do?

Propus waggled from side to side, giving Luna the equivalent of a wave. Far below Luna gritted her teeth, but refused to be chased off by the stars.

Luna isn't that easy to chase away, sighed Ras Thaoum.

Pollux snorted, No, you just have to go to bed in the evening instead of stargaze.

Tears threatened to run down Luna's face as the stars words pierced her heart over and over. She knew that they were angry with her, but to be so cold and cruel, she had never expected it of them. Once they had came dancing and frolicking around her and the moon, singing and playing in beautiful displays of light. Now they barely tolerated her presence.

Are you three talking about You-Know-Who? interjected Regulus. The newcomer received a chorus of affirmatives that almost shattered the last of Luna's will. Taking in a fluttering breath, she steeled herself for what came next. I just spoke to the three sisters. The mistress was just with them, though it was weak and intermittent, they say that she could hear them talking.

The deep voice of Rukbat then entered the conversation.

Have you seen what just happened in the— Rukbat's voice trailed off as the large red star noticed Luna. I'll tell you later. But it was one of the most interesting things I've seen in centuries. I'll leave you with that little teaser. Later!

Rukbat flew off to join the other stars of Sagittarius, who had been joined by those from Libra and Scorpius.

What was that about, do you think? wondered Pollux.

Flickering in a star-shrug, Ras Thaoum replied, You know how excitable Rukbat can get. She swears she once saw a teleporting dragon with a biped on its back.

Then Polaris joined the conversation, which piqued Luna's curiosity. Polaris was known by many names; the North Star, the Guiding Light, and Moon's Bane being just a few. She was the lodestar that all other stars rotated around and by extension the most powerful and important of the stars. When Polaris spoke the other stars listened. Not wanting to be rebuffed or told of by the powerful star Luna kept quiet and just listened.

It is time, we have to move early. We can't let that interloper try to steal our mistress away. She is moving towards the mistress' physical form. If we wait for the proper time, it may be too late. We can't allow Nightmare Moon to happen again. I will wake the others that still sleep. Begin the gathering.

Frowning and turning Polaris' words over in her mind, Luna opened her eyes as she drifted her awareness back down to Equestria. The mention of Luna's mad alter-ego was troubling. She wondered if the stars were really worried that Luna was going to fall or relapse back into the crazed goddess. Perhaps that was why they were treating her so harshly and shunning her presence.

The only other explanation for what Luna had heard was that the stars thought that she was going to hurt their mistress, and there was only one mare who could possibly fit that role. But the stars had to know Luna would never harm her, not in a thousand years, or ten thousand.

High above, she saw star after star begin to glimmer and shine through the blue haze created by the sun. At first it was just a few, then more and more began to shine until every star in the sky was awake and talking.

From Ponyville, Luna felt a surge of power, one that quickly faded away but left a peculiar aftertaste in her mouth. She opened her mouth a few times, rolling her tongue around in an effort to get rid of the after taste even as she leaned forward and ordered the pegasi pulling her chariot to fly faster.

Above, the stars began to gather, crowding above the small country town of Ponyville.

She wasn't going to make it in time, Luna realized, not unless she took more direct actions. Spreading her wings, Luna leapt from the chariot, startling the two guards who had been pulling her as she passed over them in two great flaps of her wings. Alicorns weren't the fastest of fliers, not with their wing shape and greater size. They were, however, able to do something no pegasi could do. In a flash of light blue magic Luna teleported the rest of the way to Ponyville, appearing just outside the town's library, where the source of magic she'd felt originated. Back winging carefully, Luna landed next to Pinkie Pie and Spike.

"Lady Pinkamena, Spike," Luna said, giving each a formal nod. She paused, her eyes lingering on the Element of Laughter. There was something different about Pinkie Pie, like a note ever so slightly out of tune in a familiar song. Resolving to wonder what it was later, Luna continued. "Twilight is inside?"

"Princess Luna! You have to help Twilight! She... she... I—"

"Shush, Spike. Do not worry. This is happening earlier than anticipated, but it was not unexpected," Luna said, as she strode towards the library's door.

As she approached the door Luna felt two new sensations.

The first was hundreds of prayers in her name as ponies looked to the sky and saw what seemed to be a second sun forming from the stars gathering so tightly together. Luna smiled lightly as the prayers came, knowing Celestia would be receiving many more. As Physical Avatars, neither sister could directly answer the prayers, but they could gaze upon the ponies praying for a short time. Since almost all the prayers were in response to the celestial event unfolding above, Luna didn't bother to send her awareness to check in on the petitioners.

The second sensation was the taste of power leaking through the air heralding the approach of something. Luna paused as she reached for the door with her magic. She sensed both Pinkie and Spike look at her expectantly, but Luna brushed them from her mind, instead extending her senses outward much as she had to listen in on the stars. Instead of sending her awareness into the dark heavens beyond Equestria, Luna sent it outward into the hills and dales surrounding Ponyville. There she felt the approach of the same wind she and Celestia had felt the previous evening.

It was different from before, however, lesser, like great swaths of the previous energy had vanished. This was slightly troubling, as the energy had to have gone somewhere, but not as much as the hungry single purpose nature Luna felt coming from the unnatural wind. Where before the wind had felt rather harmless and almost resigned, it was now alive with desire and fear. Closing her eyes, Luna pushed more of her conscience mind into her awareness and got a good look at the wind. As she suspected, it was alive with magic and power, and then the wind looked back at the Goddess of the Moon.

"Help them! Must protect them! Danger! Danger! Must protect them!" screamed the wind at Luna's awareness, the unnatural force gathering speed and momentum.

Snapping her awareness back into her body, Luna was about to throw aside the library door when another voice broke through the spear of sudden concern and fear in her heart.

"Mother? You're here early," Cadence said as she galloped towards the library, Shining Armour and his parents following close behind. "It doesn't have to do with you-know-what starting prematurely, does it?"

Cadence had that small half-smile that said she already knew the answer. Beside Luna, Pinkie Pie was bouncing up and down with her characteristic wide smile, no doubt barely containing an enthusiastic greeting. Velvet Sparkle and Comet Chaser both slowed to a trot as they approached, their breaths long and laboured from trying to keep up with their son and the princess. Luna gave them each a respectful nod, but kept most of her attention on Cadence.

"Daughter, you are aware of what occurred last night, I gather?" Luna asked, not bothering to discuss Twilight's situation, of which both Alicorns were already aware of the particulars, and instead seeking an alternative source of information on whatever it was that was approaching the town.

"You mean the wind and the three," Cadence gave a slight uptick to her smile, "new arrivals? Yes, I am aware. There was a great surge of Love when they appeared. I'd have to have been dead not to feel it, given," Cadence lifted one of her massive wings to show her cutie mark, the diamond heart surrounded by gold filigree shining on her flank.

Luna nodded, then looked to the north, where the wind approached from. "What do you make of it now?"

Cadence closed her eyes and Luna could see her daughter practically expand, though she knew it was just an illusion of her senses. For a couple seconds Cadence maintained her expanded awareness, very similar to how Luna had listened in on the Stars and Moon, but connected to the tapestry of Love that surrounded all sentient life living on Ioka.

When Cadence opened her eyes, Luna could see the trouble and concern that wiped away her daughter's smile.

"Love, so much love. But it is twisted and malformed. Almost grotesque in its single-mindedness. I don't think whatever is in that wind is alive. It's just repeating the same thoughts over and over." Cadence glared toward the horizon. "Mother, what is it?"

"I'm not sure, though I think the Stars at least have an idea, though they aren't sharing it with me." Luna again reached for the door, and this time thrust it open.

Beyond it was a wall of swirling magenta energy like the funnel of a tornado. Luna sighed while Velvet Sparkle and Comet Chaser bother exclaimed oaths to Celestia.

"Princess, our daughter, is she alright?" Velvet asked chewing on her lip as she looked at the wall of magic.

"Of course Twilight is alright!" Pinkie exclaimed before Luna could respond, bouncing up beside Twilight's mother and wrapping her in a big hug. "Things are all 'whoosh!' and 'zappy!' right now, sure, but Twilight is going to be just hunky-dory-rific! Right Princess Luna?"

"Lady Pinkamena is correct. While spectacular, this magic is entirely harmless."

Luna thrust a platinum clad hoof into the vortex of magic to prove her point. Little red sparks crackled across the surface of the wall, but otherwise there was no change or reaction. For a couple more moments the magic continued to hum and swirl, then it swiftly began to contract back towards its point of origin. Waving for the others to follow her and wait in the main room, which was half decorated with party supplies, Luna and Velvet Sparkle made their way to the second story landing leading to Twilight's bedroom.

Below, Pinkie began to sing and return to tacking up a long banner. Cadence, Shining Armour, Comet Chaser, and Spike meanwhile sat watching the princess and Twilight's mother. Hesitating for a moment Luna could hear movement on the far side of the door. Clearing her throat loudly, Luna gave the door a knock.

There was a startled 'eep' from the other side, followed by the sound of a dresser being dragged in front of the door.

"Uh, who's there?" Twilight's voice filtered through the hardened oak.

Luna and Velvet both rolled their eyes together.

"It's your mother, Twily, and Princess Luna."

"Princess Luna! Oh no! I mean, um, good! Yes, good! I'll, uh, be right out! Yeah, heh ha ha!"

Luna could practically hear Twilight's eye twitching in the librarians voice. Soon to be ex-librarian, Luna corrected with a knowing smirk. The panic was to be expected, but Luna didn't have the time to deal with it at the moment. If she had been more like her sister Luna may have tried to play up the obvious anxious mare a bit, but with the unknown threat of the approaching wind Luna didn't have the time.

Knocking on the door again Luna said, "If you're trying to come up with a spell to hide your wings, Cadence and I can show you a couple. I, personally, use illusions. Celestia has gotten a lot of use and good results from transmutations over the centuries, however. They may be more to your liking."

Silence from the other side of the door.

Very quickly, Luna sent her awareness upwards to check on the stars. They were all still up there, awake and shining, and watching with bated breath the events unfolding so far below. A sharp intake of breath on the other side of the door told Luna that Twilight had perhaps sensed or felt something. Or she was just processing what Luna had said. Both were possible.

"Honey, why don't you open the door, and talk to us?"

More silence.

Starting to get annoyed with delay, Luna lifted her hoof willing to give Twilight one last chance to leave her room peacefully before she kicked the door down.

"I'm, uh, sick! Yeah, that's it, I'm sick," Twilight called, followed by some very unconvincing coughing.

"Twilight Abigail Sparkle, you open this door this instant or, by Celestia's mane, I am pulling it off the wall and coming in there myself! You understand me, missy?"

Luna cringed and scooted a little to the side at the fire and venom that filled Velvet's voice.

"Yes, mother," Twilight said, defeat pressing down her voice and the dresser blocking the door sliding aside. Her ears pressed back, Twilight opened the door just enough to reveal one of her large lavender eyes. Fixating on Luna, Twilight asked, "You're not mad at me, are you?"

Holding back a huff and eye roll that certainly would have only further scared the visibly shaking mare, Luna slowly shook her head and gave her most genial smile. It was a bit like a wolf looking down on a flock of sheep. Cringing back, Twilight opened the door enough for Luna and Velvet to enter. Taking it as an invitation, both ponies trotted into the bedroom.

Twilight had backed up nearly to one of the windows trying to make herself appear as small as she could. One ear occasionally flicking towards the window, her eyes flitted back and forth between the princess and her mother. This gave Luna an excellent opportunity to examine Twilight. Walking around her, Luna held her head up like a critic examining a work of art.

The first thing she examined was Twilight's new wings. As Luna expected, Twilight's wings were long, reaching back to cover half of her cutie mark, and would no doubt have a majestic span when in flight. Alicorns shared their wing structure with the Imperial Pegasi; long and broad, with the primary feathers seaming to reach out towards the horizon. The tips of Twilight's feathers darkened from the gentle lavender of her coat to an almost midnight black at the tips.

Shifting her gaze, Luna next looked over the changes to Twilight's mane and tail. From them Luna discerned that Celestia had been right. Twilight was a Physical Alicorn, representing some actual manifestation of the world itself. Luna hardly needed further confirmation, but the way the dark midnight blue streaks of Twilight's mane and tail glittered with thousands of tiny lights like they had been dipped in diamond dust bespoke of her connection to the stars.

Luna wanted to cry, shriek, and maybe, just maybe, glare at Twilight, but held back, reminding herself that the stars had chosen Twilight, if ever there had been any choice at all the matter. Twilight was no more to blame for her connection to the stars than a child could be blamed for who her parents were.

Other than her wings, mane and tail, Twilight looked identical to before. Well, except maybe her horn was ever so slightly longer. Not enough to be easily noticeable. With time, that would change, Luna knew. As she became more and more attuned to the stars Twilight would begin to grow. Luna suspected that when Twilight had completely grown into her aspect they'd be roughly the same size. But for now, at least, the new alicorn looked like a unicorn with a sparkling mane that had grown wings.

"I'm sorry, Princess Luna," Twilight muttered, continuing to wilt under the princess' gaze.

"Whatever for?" Luna asked, and she even managed a smile. "You look beautiful. Celestia will be so happy. She was right, you are the Alicorn of the Stars."

Luna didn't know how she managed to say those words without her voice hitching or giving any indication of the pain throbbing through her heart. She just sat down beside Velvet Sparkle and gave Twilight a glowing smile.

"B-but, I... wait, 'Alicorn of the Stars'?" Twilight's eyes grew wider and even more frightened. "Oh no! I stole the stars from you!?"

Twilight was almost hyperventilating, the young mare placing a hoof to her chest as she sucked in greedy gulps of air. Luna couldn't prevent the wince of pain. She just hoped that in her anxiety Twilight hadn't noticed Luna's expression.

"Honey, listen, you didn't steal the stars from Princess Luna. That's impossible, right princess?"

Luna slowly nodded and murmured agreement.

It was completely true. It was utterly impossible to 'steal' the aspect of a Alicorn. A thief would have an easier time plucking out a pony's soul. There were spells capable of the latter, there weren't for the former. Many a power mad pony had tried, never had any come close to succeeding. Even Discord, with all his reality warping power, couldn't separate Celestia from the sun or Luna from the moon. He could, however, confuse both so they'd rise and set at random intervals. But that was a far cry from stealing either.

"Mother, what's going on? Why is this happening to me?" Twilight asked, sniffing back a tear.

As she looked towards one of the few friends, Luna felt her own heart crack with pain. Twilight was so terrified and confused, not knowing why these changes had happened. Everything had gone wrong. They were supposed to have had time to prepare Twilight a bit, to inform her of what was going to occur. All Celestia's and Luna's plans had been ruined by the stars hurrying Twilight's awakening.

Stepping forward, Velvet took her daughter in a tender embrace. Running her hoof through Twilight's sparkling mane, she made gentle calming noises. Burying her head in her mother's neck, Twilight let herself cry and release the twisted knot of emotion that had grown since she'd first heard her entire family was coming to visit.

Looking up with red rimmed eyes the new alicorn asked, "How does this happen? A unicorn just doesn't become an alicorn. I've not used any huge spells, or partaken in ancient world altering rituals, or anything of that nature. So, how?"

Velvet looked towards Luna for assistance, but the princess waved her to proceed. Luna had an idea what was about to be said, and it was both Velvet's right and responsibility to share the truth.

"You're right, my little Twily, a unicorn doesn't just become an alicorn, and I don't think those methods you listed would even work." Velvet continued to pet her daughter's mane, her voice soft and firm at the same time in the way only a mother consoling her child can achieve. "I wanted to tell you this sooner, before all this began, it's one of the reasons we came to see you this year. Try not to be too mad at me and your father."

"Mom, what is it?"

Twilight pushed her mother back a little so they could look into each other's eyes. For a moment Velvet hesitated and Luna could see the conflicting desires to protect Twilight and to speak the truth war in the mare's eyes. Taking a deep breath first, Velvet continued.

"Twilight, I am not your birth mother."

Luna braced for a possible explosion. With Twilight's awakening, she certainly had the power to level the library, and perhaps most of Ponyville beyond. Twilight, however, just frowned a little, then gave a nervous laugh.

"You're joking, right? Trying to lighten the mood? Please tell me this is a cruel joke, mama."

Twilight looked so much like a little filly just then, her water rimmed eyes begging her mother to deny what she'd just been told. Her lower lip trembled and Luna continued to hold her breath.

"I wish I could, honey, I so truly wish that I could."

"If... if you're not my mother, then who is?"

"I- I can't tell you," Velvet looked towards Luna for help, her eyes pleading for assistance.

"What do you mean you can't?" Twilight almost snapped, pushing her mother back a little. "Do you not know, or do you just not want to tell me?"

"I know who, I just can't tell you," Velvet looked down at the floor between her hooves.

Twilight's eyes held a cold fury that could have frozen the charge of a pegasi legion. Her upper lip began to curl and she backed away from her mother. Luna knew where Twilight's thoughts were headed, none of them pleasant. Sensing the approach of the ill wind, Luna stepped forward laying a hoof on Twilight's withers. Immediately Twilight snapped her head towards Luna, the tell-tale traces of barely held back magic flitting around the edges of her eyes.

"Dear friend, she speaks the truth. The baroness is under an enchantment that prevents her from telling any pony even a hint about your birth mother. Observe, if you would," Luna turned towards Velvet, giving the unicorn a pained smile meant to convey how sorry she was to put her through this test. "Velvet, is Celestia the birth mother of Twilight Sparkle?"

Velvet seemed to seize up, her entire body unable to move. Luna pressed forward with the demonstration before Twilight could interrupt with a question.

"Are you Twilight's mother?"

Velvet unseized, saying, "Of course I am."

"But Lady Pinkamena Pie is her birth mother?"

Again Velvet grew rigid and still, her eyes shrinking to tiny pricks of aqua marine.

Turning to Twilight, who seemed to have a thoughtful gaze on her face, Luna said, "The same happens with any question where she'd give a possible hint who your birth mother could be. Celestia tried to remove the enchantment, but was unsuccessful. She believes only whomever placed it can remove it."

Velvet nodded sadly.

Twilight just grunted, her teeth grinding together. "You could have just told me she is under a Geas."

"I suppose," Luna sheepishly admitted.

"Velvet, I want you to leave. Princess Luna and I have some things to discuss, and I doubt they are appropriate for you to know."

Looking like she wanted to protest, Velvet nevertheless turned around, and hanging her head, she slowly left the bedroom. Pausing at the door, she gave her daughter a distraught look before she slipped into the main room and gently shut the door.

Turning to Luna, Twilight took a deep breath, then stated, "You have a lot of explaining to do."

"Indeed," Luna smiled. She hadn't been able to have this discussion with Cadence, owing in no small part to being imprisoned inside the moon at the time of Cadence's awakening. It was one of many regrets Luna had about the first years of Cadence's life. "There is a lot I have to teach you."

Jumping up on Twilight's bed, Luna patted the open space beside her in an obvious invitation. Hesitating for a moment, Twilight joined the princess of the night. Taking a moment to sort out her thoughts and figure out the best place to start explaining the history and nature of the Alicorns, Luna was caught off guard when Twilight spoke.

"So, I'm an alicorn like you, Celestia, or Cadence?" Twilight shifted uncomfortably.

"Yes and no. You are like me and Celestia yes, but not like Cadence." Luna smiled, glad for an easy opening into the subject of alicorn natures. "We are Physical Alicorns, representing something that can be seen or touched, and are intimately connected to what we represent. Cadence is an Emotional Alicorn, meaning she is connected to the weave of energy generated by a specific emotion of higher life. Ponies, zebras, griffons, dragons, and such. Our powers and abilities manifest differently. There is a third type of alicorn, the Intangible Alicorn, but we'll discuss them later if you want."

"Okay," Twilight said, then she bit her lip and asked, "Why did she lie to me? Why wasn't I told sooner?"

"Don't hate your mother, Twilight."

"But she isn't my mother, not really," growled the young alicorn, her hooves twisting the covers in front of her.

Luna gave Twilight a look that conveyed both her disgust and bemusement.

"You should know better than to think that. She raised you, and gave you the foundation to build your life upon. That you don't share blood is inconsequential." Luna waved a dismissive hood. "For the last ten years you've thought of my sister as a surrogate mother, yes?"

Twilight nodded.

"You share no blood, yes?" Luna had to be so careful to control her voice when she asked the question. There was an almost certain chance that Twilight was, in fact, related by blood to both princesses. Twilight seemed to catch the error, turning to Luna and giving her a look that said, 'really?'

"Okay, so you are probably related to both Celestia and I by blood, if who we think could be your birth mother is in fact, um, that." Luna shifted a little on the bed, her wings flicking a couple times nervously. "But, my point was, you didn't believe you were related to Celestia, yet you look to her as a second mother, yes?"

Again, a slight nod.

"There is an old saying, 'we do not choose our family.' You are angry with your mother right now, but in time it will pass. She'll always be your mother, and nothing can change that, can it?"

"No," Twilight admitted in a whisper. Her ears flicked towards the window, a pensive frown tugging at her fair features. "What is that noise?" Twilight blurted out, hopping off the bed to approach the window.

Twisting her own ear, Luna heard more than felt the approaching wind. Like the previous night, she could feel the tingle of magic being carried along. Joining Twilight, Luna prepared a series of wards and defensive spells if whatever was coming proved to be dangerous. The wind slowed, gently rustling the leaves of the library, before it moved on, slipping through Ponyville before entering the Everfree. Luna let out a sigh she didn't know she'd been holding.

"Princess, what was that?" Twilight looked towards Luna, all anger gone and replaced by concern and curiosity.

"Truly, I do not know. Celestia is dealing with it as well as some other concerns. Now, come, I was hoping to teach you how to listen to the stars. You'll also, probably, be responsible for waking them during dusk, but we won't know for sure for a few more hours." Luna made her way back towards the more comfortable bed, adding under her breath, "and maybe we can finally find out why they are so mad at me."

Torn between education and dealing with a potential crisis, Twilight hovered by the window for a few moments before slowly rejoining Luna. Just as Twilight turned away from the window, the prospect of learning combined with the assurance that Celestia was dealing with the potential crisis winning out over the desire to act, the wind reared up and burst through the windows. Flaring her wings Luna leapt across the short divide between herself and Twilight, a gentle blue corona of magic lighting along her horn as she landed.

Like fog, the wind flooded in through the windows, pooling and coiling about the floor. The surface popped and hissing like boiling water, and through the surface only darkness, an endless void of black like a starless night, could be seen. Lifting from the fog came the cloying scent of sulphur and brimstone, making both Luna and Twilight crinkle their noses.

"I know I'm repeating myself a lot lately, but what is that!?" Twilight yelped, jumping backwards onto a low trunk.

Waving her horn around in an attempt to scan the fog closing in around them, Luna said, "I am unsure."

Luna was deeply troubled. She had expected Celestia to have dealt with this issue, but so much had changed since the previous night. The wind they had sensed then had none of the malevolence seeping off it. Something must have changed, or the wind was alive somehow. As the faint light of her horn touched the fog the wind had become, Luna felt no sign of life or awareness that could be detected by her spell. If the fog was not alive, then why was it acting like it was searching for something, Luna silently wondered.

The fog lifted itself up the legs of Twilight's bed, pooling about on her covers before spilling again onto the floor. Luna backed slowly towards Twilight as the fog approached, and then rose up until it looked like a black sheet draped over a pony. The 'head' of the fog swung left and right, a wheezing sound like wind in a tunnel coming as deep within the fog. Stopping the sound and motion, the fog stared past Luna towards Twilight.

"Stand back, knave," Luna growled as the fog took a step forward, spreading her wings wider to create a barrier between the fog and Twilight. "Identify yourself and your intention."

"Protect them, I have to protect them," moaned the fog, placing one long ethereal leg forward.

"I am Princess Luna, Goddess of the Moon and Shepherd of the Night, take not another step!" The magic around Luna's horn continued to grow, the princess selecting a spell that she hoped would contain the fog. "I won't let you near Twilight."

"The Titans! I must protect them from the Titans!" howled the fog, its piercing voice trembling the bookshelves of the library. "The rest dream, but I will not. I must protect them."

"Protect whom?" Twilight asked, jumping down from the trunk and walking up beside Luna. The princess felt a hoof touch her just above the flight muscles making her look back towards the younger mare. Twilight gently shook her head 'no' and continued towards the fog. "Who do you need to protect, and who are the Titans?"

Luna pinched her brows together wondering the same question. She knew she'd heard the name before, when she was still very young. Specifics escaped Luna, only the nagging feeling that the name was important.

In the doorway to the main room appeared five faces, all of them worried. Cadence and Velvet both made to enter the room with lowered horns, but stopped when Twilight waved them to wait. Behind the two mares, Spike and Comet alternated between fear and hope. Pinkie Pie just leaned forward and growled like Applejack's dog, Winona.

"The Titans... they will corrupt them, and if they cannot, then they will kill them. I cannot allow it! I must protect them!" The fog reared back on its hooves, front legs kicking at the air. Landing on all fours it leapt towards Twilight, howling like a banshee.

Luna cursed herself a senile fool. The fog's attack surprised her and her spell wasn't ready. She'd grown slow and pampered, with little of the blunt aggressive instinct she'd carried a thousand years ago during the War of the Sun and Moon. Then again, she'd been possessed by her own envy and had become a foul creature of darkness and spite. It was perhaps understandable that she was no longer as adept at fighting, but it still grated on Luna's nerves.

Twilight's eyes widened as the unnatural fog flew towards her, trails of smoke licking the air in its wake. Moments before the Fog reached the young alicorn the room was filled with a corona of light and a high pitched shriek. All three Alicorn's eyes cleared quickly revealing Peewee hovering in the air between Twilight and her attacker. Flames and heat rolled off the juvenile Phoenix, his claws slashing through the fog's head.

Howling again, the fog flew backwards, pausing at the window to let out a knell that echoed deep into Luna's heart and left her legs shaking. Then the fog was gone, slinking and vanishing into the countryside.

Chapter Four: The Party (R)

Myths and Birthrights

By Tundara

Part One: Awakening and Arrivals

Chapter Four: The Party

Fleur was flying.

Which also meant she was dreaming.

The land below her was a dry, dusty summer plain, short yellow grass bending beneath a scalding breeze that swirled around the tops of rocky hillocks. Perched in the leeward side of the small rises sat squat little hamlets. The buildings were ugly things, built out of mud brick with thatched roofs, with no sign of care or attention to creating a pleasant front.

Between the hamlets stretched a few tended fields of wheat. Golden stalks waved back and forth in the image of the ocean. The fields were rather small, probably just for local use, Fleur decided as she continued to fly over the plains.

Around the buildings equally drab and plain looking ponies milled about. A few looked up, noticing the white spec sailing across the powder blue sky. As word of her presence spread, the ponies below grabbed their foals and hid behind slammed doors. Fleur gave a little grunt of annoyance, but didn't otherwise pay attention, and instead focused on herself.

Looking left and right Fleur got a good look at the long, wide majestic wings that took slow, lazy strokes through the air. She was no expert, but her wings were obviously those of an Imperial Pegasus, the broad, finger-like feathers thrust out behind her. Fleur could feel the wind gently caressing each feather as it held her aloft, eliciting a soft, bubbling laugh.

That was odd. Whenever she dreamed, her senses were dull and lifeless, like she had been wrapped in a wool blanket. This dream, however, felt so real. It even smelled real, the thick smell of wood smoke tickling her nose. Fleur had never had a lucid dream. After a few more strokes of her wings, she didn’t worry and instead just reveled in the feeling of flight.

Turning away from the hamlets, she started towards a distant expanse of shimmering blue water. As she approached the shore, Fleur could make out small waves gently lapping at a dock in the center of a shoe-shaped bay. A few more of the ugly, mud-brick houses were clustered near the dock and next to a market shaded from the harsh sun by white canvas sheets. Along the dock sat two long galleys, each with two masts and portholes for oars. Fleur recognised the design from her history lessons and story books. Such galleys hadn't been seen since the fall of the second Griffon Empire during the rise of Equestria.

"Just like a Trotan," Fleur said, startling herself with the tone of her voice.

Her normally soft, lilting tones had become harsh and cold like the winds that blew from the peaks of the tallest mountains. Concern for the change in her voice faded quickly as she continued to drink in the sights and sensations of the dream.

Expertly spilling the wind from her wings, Fleur began a lazy descent towards the dusty market. Her golden-shod hooves skipped over the uneven ground as she landed. The market’s patrons were all swarthy and unsavoury looking ponies wearing white duck trousers and coloured bandanas around their heads. They were the first sign of vibrant colour Fleur had seen since the dream began. A few of the denizens of the market rushed to get out of her way, others ducking down and cowering within their stalls.

All around her the ponies began to bow, dipping down until their noses were firmly planted in the dust of the earth. Fleur wanted to roll her eyes at the scene, but instead she slowly trotted forward, pulled along by the dream. Among the sailors and vendors Fleur spotted a unicorn wearing a bright maroon jacket with gold lace and a matching wide-brimmed hat, the feathers of a peacock stuck in a band of intertwined gold wires. Beneath the hat, the unicorn wore his soot black mane tied with a crimson ribbon. His dapple grey coat had been brushed until it gleamed in the afternoon light. Unlike the other ponies, the oddly dressed unicorn's bow wasn't so deep, nor so submissive, allowing Fleur to see his dull steel eyes that darted around the market, observing every pony at once.

"Lemurius," Fleur purred, a slight smile touching her lips as she approached the unicorn.

She held out a hoof towards the unicorn, letting him rise and place his lips gently on the polished metal.

"My Lady of the Light, how it is so very good to see you again. I take it you're trip was... satisfactory, yes?" Lemurius asked, his voice thick with the burr of the Cantalonian Mountains and his breath heavy with the stench of cheap rum.

"I was not followed, if that is your implication."

Fleur turned away from the unicorn, motioning for him to follow with a wave of her wing, and began to walk along the shore. The hackles of her neck began to rise, lifted up by an unfamiliar buzzing sensation. Something was wrong, she knew it was wrong, but Fleur was forced to ignore the warning.

For a short time they walked in silence, the gentle lapping of the water a few strides away drowning out the noise of the market as it regained life with Fleur's absence. When they stepped around the edge of the bay and left the sight of the market Fleur stopped. Looking around she made sure that they hadn't been followed. Satisfied, Fleur then lit her horn.

Fleur enjoyed the cool feeling of her magic washing through her. It was like a fall morning's breeze tickling through her, flowing from her hooves and wings, dancing in her heart, and then gliding through her horn.

Golden lines of magic burnt across the sand leaving behind the scent of saffron as they arced around to form a circle. When the two ends touched they darted inward, spiralling and bouncing off the walls they'd already created, criss-crossing until the circle was filled with a complex array of lines and smaller circles. For a moment Fleur reveled in the spellwork. She'd never be able to cast such a complex sigil so quickly. Releasing her magic, Fleur gave the sigil a cursory inspection before she turned to Lemurius.

The unsavoury looking unicorn gave her a very slight nod, obviously impressed with the speed the sigil was cast. "Your Divine Grace, you asking to meet in such an empty dead land and creating such an impressive Sigil of Privacy doesn't have anything to do with what you tasked me with acquiring, does it?"

The smile Fleur carried grew dangerous and ever so slightly wider as she nodded her head towards Lemurius. The unicorn stared into Fleur's eyes for only a brief moment before he flinched, his gaze falling to the patch of sand that lay between them.

Softening her expression, Fleur asked, "You did retrieve the keys, correct?"

The unicorn gulped at the hard edge to Fleur's voice that promised pain unimaginable to mortal minds if she was disappointed in his answer. A raspberry glow surrounding his horn, the unicorn pulled a small golden bag from a saddle bag and dropped it in the sand before Fleur. Taking the bag in her own magic and, ignoring the buzzing that was now like the droning of a swarm of bees, opened it to pull out three keys.

Each was black as sin and seemed to drink in light like a pony lost in the desert that stumbled upon an oasis. Quickly Fleur shoved the keys back into the bag, suppressing a shudder as she moved it towards her own saddle bags.

"And my payment?"

Shifting her magic to her other saddle bag, Fleur pulled out a crown of gold. It was a very familiar crown, one she saw often.

"The crown of Hemera herself," Lemurius moaned, his thin tongue peaking out of his mouth to wet his lips.

As she deposited the crown in the unicorn’s waiting grasp, Fleur said, "Remember, it will return to her when she next performs the rites of raising the sun. That gives you five days. If you should think to use some magic to prevent it returning to her, know that she will come in search of what is rightfully hers. I would pity any pony she found in possession of her crown. My Aunt is not as forgiving as I."

"Just so, just so. Any pony she discovered with her crown would suffer most cruelly, indeed," the unicorn leered down on the crown with a smile of cracked black teeth. "T'would not be something to be wished about one’s mortal enemy. One who violated one's mother and sisters most foully and left them for dead in the burning husk of one's home. No, not even on them would one wish the pain and suffering Hemera would bring down upon those whom stole her crown."

Fleur watched with an arched eyebrow as the unicorn muttered to himself while placing the crown in a box covered in dozens of wards and sigils. She then turned away, casting her sight over the parched land.

Clicking her tongue, Fleur said, "I think I shall make a city here. Something grand, with white walls and golden towers. At its heart a Temple of the Moon. Here will rest a great library with scrolls and books from across the Seven Lands. It shall be my gift to my Aunt upon her return and I shall name it Nyxandria in her honour. What say you, Lemurius? Wouldn't that be the most wonderful gift?"

"It would be a most... appropriate gift, your Divine Grace," Lemurius purred, dipping into a low bow and sweeping his hat from his head. "If it pleases, I shall take my leave. There are many leagues my ship must cover and so little time. I shall have to whip the crew most fiercely as is to make my next rendezvous in time."

"Of course," Fleur said, waving a hoof to shoo the unicorn away, preoccupied with the designs and plans for the new city. Watching the unicorn hurry towards his ship with one eye, Fleur waited until he was out of sight before igniting her horn. Closing her eyes, she said, "Cousin, I have them—"

Whatever Fleur was going to say was lost as a shrill cry tore her from the dream and back into the guest bedroom of Carousel Boutique .

"Rarity! Rarity! Come quick, the Princess is here!" Shouted a high-pitched voice that pierced the walls between the bedrooms like light through a window.

Looking outside, Fleur was shocked to see the sun in the west. For an idle moment she wondered how long she'd been asleep. Fleur thought back on the dream as she rolled out of the bed. Unlike most dreams, this one wasn't fading away and clung to Fleur, and in turn Fleur set her mind on making sure not one detail was lost. When she was satisfied that the dream wouldn't slip away, Fleur made her way to the door and gently pushed it open.

Standing on the landing was Rarity's little sister, the white coated filly bouncing enthusiastically in front of the door to Rarity's room.

Noticing Fleur, Sweetie stopped bouncing and gave the older unicorn an appraising look before thrusting out a hoof saying, "Hi! My name is Sweetie Belle. Who are you?"

Gently, Fleur bumped her hoof against Sweetie's, answering, "I'm Fleur de Lis, ma jeune amie. It is a pleasure to meet you at last. Your sister has told me many stories of the mischief you and your friends find."

"Uh huh," Sweetie said, her hoof rubbing her chin in deep thought. "So, are you Rarity's Very Special Somepony?"

"Sweetie Belle!" gasped a scandalized voice.

Fleur and the filly turned as one to see Rarity standing in the doorway, her mane in its perfect bouncing curl, but her make-up and false eyelashes missing. Rarity must have only been up a very short time indeed, Fleur mused as she gave her friend a warm smile before turning back to Sweetie.

"Non, we are not 'Very Special Someponies'."

"Sweetie, you were saying something about the Princess?" Rarity said, her voice a sickly sweet that almost grated on the ears.

"Oh, yeah!" the filly exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she zipped over to her sister, Fleur forgotten for the moment. "I just saw Twist, and she said that Rumble told her that Dinky saw the Princess leaving the Everfree with Fluttershy, Apple Bloom, and Zecora!"

Rarity sighed, rubbing her face slowly. Sitting down, she put a gentle hoof on her sister's withers. Fleur stepped back, and started down the stairs towards the kitchen, not wanting to intrude on a family moment.

As she descended, Fleur heard Rarity say, "Sweetie, you know both Princesses Luna and Cadence are in Ponyville for the Celebration of Life, yes?"

Smiling to herself, Fleur entered the kitchen preventing her from hearing more than Sweetie's voice crack as she responded. She even started to hum as she pulled out some bread from a cupboard and orange juice from the ice box. There was something oddly familiar, and sad yet happy, about Sweetie Belle. Fleur couldn't place it, and as she began to scramble some eggs she finally decided it must be how the filly lived up to and defied the expectations created by Rarity's stories.

Deciding to instead focus on the dream, Fleur pondered its meanings. She knew enough about dreamology to know that dreams often had meanings. Or so the other races of ponies claimed. Unicorns so rarely dreamed that, in the past, some had used it as a basis to claim that unicorns had no soul. Fleur snorted in disgust at the preposterous beliefs some ancient ponies held.

No pony knew exactly why unicorns almost never dreamed, not even Celestia. The princess had been asked once, and her answer had been, "For as long as I have walked this world, unicorns have dreamt but once in a year, and I know not the cause."

Sages and scholars claimed unicorns were heavy sleepers because of their need to replenish their magic, but Fleur didn't believe that explanation. Like the other races, when they did dream, unicorns would rarely remember the dream the next morning. So most didn't worry or bother about dreams. It was simply part of life as a unicorn. She'd never heard of a unicorn having two dreams in a year, yet alone in a night.

This revelation made Fleur stop half way through serving the eggs onto three plates.

She turned to the kitchen door, a look of pure shock on her fair face, as Rarity and Sweetie walked through its arch.

"I dreamt twice last night," Fleur stated.

Rarity froze, a look of relief entering her eyes.

"So did I," she replied, slipping into one of the available chairs. "At first I thought it was the wine and just imagined the first dream, but the second was so real. Plus, I dreamt only three months ago. So, how could I have another so soon?"

"Same," Fleur said as she sat down across from Rarity, the late breakfast forgotten. "I was flying in mine, then I landed on a beach and was talking with some pirate-like unicorn. He gave me some black keys in exchange for somepony’s crown."

"I— I am not sure I wish to talk about my dream, darling," Rarity said, her gaze drifting to where her sister sat. The filly was watching both adults with a puzzled expression, head swinging back and forth between the two. "It wasn't as pleasant as yours sounds."

The fashionista put on a forced smile, but Fleur could see it wavering, cracking around the edges. Tears threatened to run from Rarity's eyes for a moment before they were dabbed away with a handkerchief. Taking a deep breath, Rarity reinforced the smile so that only a pony as practiced at dealing with liars and politicians as Fleur could see through the deception. For the sake of her friend, and still feeling guilty over the previous evening, Fleur didn't press the subject.

It turned out it wouldn't have mattered if she had tried to as moments later a tremendous uproar came from the town square. Horns announcing the arrival of Princess Celestia, the distinct tune known to every pony in Equestria, mingled with cries or shouts of distress, piquing Fleur's and Rarity's curiosity enough to capture their complete attention.

"What is that?" Rarity said, slipping from her chair to peer out a window. She hesitated for a few seconds, before her hoof was suddenly covering her mouth in shock, "Wait, is that Princess Celestia?"

"See," Sweetie shouted, running to her sister’s side and trying to jump up to look out the window. "I told you that the Princess was in Ponyville."

Pursing her lips, Rarity didn't respond to her sister, instead focusing on the scene in the town's square. With breakfast already cold, Fleur sighed and slid out of her chair to join the siblings in looking out the window.

Then the blood in her veins ran cold.

Ponyville's central square was filled with ponies, most gathered around a stage. A contingent of royal guards stood between the stage and crowd. As distressing as the scene was, Fleur was more concerned with the fact that the guards weren't wearing their ceremonial armour, but instead the polished and magically hardened steel only used for emergencies. At the base of the steps leading onto the stage stood the town’s mayor and two other ponies.

The first Fleur recognised as one of the captains of the Day Guard. He was a tall and sturdy Imperial Pegasus by the name of Iron Gust, and it was clear from the blades on his wings and the set of his jaw that he was expecting trouble.

The other pony was Princess Celestia herself. Gone was her royal attire, the crown and heavy torc replaced with armour of burnished gold glowing with the light of protective enchantments etched into the armour. At her side, point resting on the cobblestones, was a massive sword. The blade was akin to the surface of the sun, rolling and boiling flames held inside a metal cage, and in the crosspiece was set a stone shaped like an eye, blood red and angry. The sword's name escaped Fleur, though she knew it possessed one.

"Why ever is she wearing that armour?" Rarity breathed, growing thoughtful, her head tilting a little to one side in appraisal. "I must say, it does compliment her colours rather well."

Rarity turned to see Fleur's reaction, only to find Fleur trotting briskly towards the door. After a second of hesitation, Rarity followed, Sweetie Belle at her side.

Pushing her way out into the crowd, Fleur made her way towards the princess, dipping into a respectful bow when she was only a few strides away. Celestia turned her head towards the three ponies, the grim expression on her face melting into one of minor relief.

"Ambassador Fleur de Lis, it is a surprise to see you here in Ponyville," the princess said in her kind matronly voice before she gave Rarity and Sweetie a small incline of her head and tender smile in greeting.

"Oui, your majesty. I am visiting my friend, Lady Rarity, for a few days," Fleur stated, reveling in being able to tell the unvarnished truth for once in a political situation. "May I ask why you and the Royal Guard are here, however? And in such armour, no less."

There was no being in all the world as practiced as Celestia in holding court and dealing with the control of information. It didn't surprise Fleur when Celestia said, "There is a possible threat to Equestria. It will probably turn out to be nothing and all this an overreaction."

Fleur slowly nodded in response, her experienced mind putting together what Celestia said along with what the princess didn't need to say. Everything Celestia said was certainly the truth, and the way she said it made it seem like there really wasn't any danger at all. Yet it was obvious more was going on. Something had to be terribly wrong for Celestia herself to don armour and directly seek to confront the danger. A little sliver of fear worked its way into Fleur's heart, and the ambassador slowly looked in the direction of the princess’ gaze. There she saw the treetops of the Everfree gently swaying in a spring breeze.

From the north a young guard approached, his steel boots spraying sparks as he ran. Panting he slowed to a stop, saluting to the princess and the captain, "We have set up a perimeter around the library, as you ordered, your majesty. Your sister, your niece, Captain Armour, and several civilians, including the Elements of Laughter and Magic, are inside. There was some sort of disturbance, but as you ordered we maintained a discreet distance and merely observed. Everything seems to have returned to normal, for the moment."

"I was already aware of what happened, but thank you," Celestia smiled, her eyes still fixated on the distant forest. "I was confident that situation would be dealt with in a timely manner."

Fleur shared a confused look with Rarity. Sweetie Belle, meanwhile, had circled around Celestia and was lifting a hoof, intrigued by the sword.

"You shouldn't do that, my little pony," Celestia said, her steely gaze never wavering from the trees. "Coronal Edge was forged on the surface of the sun and he doesn't like being poked."

"Oh," Sweetie said, her voice clearly disappointed and her hoof lowering to the ground. Looking up to Celestia, she asked, "What do you mean 'he doesn't like being poked'?"

"It is a long story, and perhaps best told another time," Celestia's smile grew faint and distant as the goddess thought back to days that had become nothing more than myth and legend.

"Princess, wouldn't it be best if Lady Rarity and the rest of the Elements were gathered and removed to safety, just in case." Iron Gust said, the pegasus finally making his presence felt.

"They wouldn't reach anywhere safe enough if this threat turns out to be real," Celestia simply stated, her words and tone sending a chill up Fleur's spine. "Besides, she approaches."

Turning away from the princess, Fleur saw a small group approaching. She arched an eyebrow, wondering why Celestia was so worried about a couple of mares and two fillies. Celestia herself seemed to straighten for a moment, and then relax, a relieved laugh rolling from her tongue.

"And so, it was much ado about nothing, after all. I am glad."

The harsh sound of metal on stone made Fleur's ears twitch as Celestia lifted her sword in her magic. With a little pop and golden flash the sword vanished.

Without so much as a glance to the ponies at her side, Celestia slowly walked towards the group, Fleur and the others trailing in her wake after a moment’s hesitation. As the two groups approached each other, Fleur's steps almost faltered when the 'unicorn' filly's wings fluttered. Her mouth fell open as realization struck that the filly wasn't a unicorn, but rather an alicorn.

The alicorn filly was watching Celestia with a confused look on her young face. When only a half dozen paces separated the two, the filly broke into a sprint racing towards her and leaping towards her with outstretched hooves and a quick flick of her wings to increase her speed. Hooves wrapped around Celestia's elegant neck and the filly planted her face into her white coat.

"Auntie, I knew you'd come for me," the filly cried, little tears and sniffles escaping out into the sudden silence of the square. "I knew you wouldn't abandon me."

Turning towards Fluttershy, Rarity asked in a whispered hiss, "That's an alicorn. Where'd you find an alicorn filly?"

"Oh, um, I was kind of snuggling her... in the Everfree."

Fleur gave Fluttershy a long incredulous look, though, when she thought about it, she’d heard a fair number of stories from Rarity about the impossible things that seemed to happen continuously in Ponyville.

"And Rarity, her name is Tyr."

"My little ponies, I think you have a tale to tell me. Let's head somewhere more comfortable and talk," Celestia said, running a soothing hoof down the crying Tyr's back. Then she turned to Iron Gust, saying, "Captain, you and the rest of the guard are to return to the palace. It has become apparent that your services will not be needed here."

As the guards rushed off to carry out her order, Celestia settled Tyr on her back as she turned to address the six ponies that remained, "Come, I believe there is going to be a party at the library"

* * *

Tyr tried to sort through a confusing deluge of information, face buried deep into her aunt’s mane so that the ethereal strands tickled her nose and eyes as she rode upon her back.

Since waking up in the forest glade she'd been trying to understand what was going on, but comprehension was frustratingly just out of reach. Everything was so calm and peaceful, which was so weird and wrong. The sun was shining brightly, not hidden by raging storms. The forest, though foreboding, had been alive with the sounds of small critters, not dead, silent, and littered with bones. And the villagers, they were all so happy and open, not running into their homes to cower beneath their beds at the first sight of alicorns.

It was like things had been when Tyr was younger.

When she had played and laughed with her cousins.

Before everything had gone wrong.

Before the war.

Even more confusing were the ponies. Fluttershy reminded Tyr so much of her cousin, Artemis, that for a moment she had believed that they were the same pony. Same with Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle, who reminded her of Mneme and Aoide. The two older unicorns reminded her of family as well. But they weren't her family. Tyr could feel the mortality in all the ponies as easily as she felt the essence of the sun flowing from the pony beneath her.

So the only explanation that remained was that they were all priestesses.

But Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle were too young to be priestesses, and the ponies had seemed genuinely confused by the names Tyr had at first called them. Also, there was the small problem that there were no priestesses of Mneme, Aoide or Artemis. Even her aunt was a little off.

Tyr’s aunt, Hemera, Goddess of the Day, was blind. Tyr had always shivered when her mother would tell the story of how Hemera lost her eyes. It was because of Zeus and the terrible tricks he’d play on mares. He seduced Hemera, driving his First Wife to a fit of jealousy. Hera attacked Hemera, removed the sun goddesses eyes, creating the wedge between the two great Alicorn herds.

Aside from her eyes, this pony was identical to Hemera, so she had to be Hemera. Reasoning that she must have somehow healed her eyes, Tyr snuggled into the crook of the sun’s neck. Lifting her head from her aunt's mane, Tyr looked down on one of the ponies walking beside the goddess.

"Are you a Priestess?"

The unicorn looked over to Tyr, a slight raise to her eyebrows as she gave a laugh like sleigh bells.

"Non, I am an ambassador from Prance," the unicorn said, her accent foreign to Tyr. "My name is Fleur."

"Tyr," the filly responded in accordance with mortal pony custom. After all, everypony already knew her name.

She paused, mulling over this confusing accent. She had heard every one that existed while listening to the petitions of the faithful from her mother’s side. She decided Prance must have been from very far away if no pony from Prance had ever come to the Grand Temple of Love. Then she realized that she had no idea what an ambassador was either.

"Is an ambassador like a priestess?"

Again Fleur laughed, the bell-like sound making Tyr smile despite her unease.

"We are a little, I suppose. But instead of serving a goddess we serve our nation, going to other lands to help make sure that both stay friends with each other."

"Oh," Tyr said, resting her head against Hemera's neck and enjoying the gentle roll as she walked. "That sounds nice."

"Oui, it can be, at times."

The group continued on in relative silence for a few more strides before Tyr again spoke.

"Then why do you look like a Priestess of Wisdom?"

"I'm afraid I do not understand, little one."

The young alicorn bristled a little at being called 'little' by a mortal. She was Tyr, daughter of Love and Duty, an alicorn and a goddess. She wasn't sure what she was the goddess of, but her Awakening would come, in time. Then she'd be able to build her own temples and have her own priestesses like all the other Awakened alicorns.

"You look just like a priestess of Wisdom," Tyr continued, even reaching down to poke Fleur in the withers a couple times. "You're lucky that Prance is so far away. If my sister knew you were going around trying to make friends by looking like one of her priestesses she'd find you, gut you, and hang you by your own entrails until you were almost dead. She'd then let you down and repeat the process every dusk until you died of old age."

All around her, the group of mortal ponies stared up at Tyr in a combination of abject horror and fear.

"What? It would be the just response to such a slight!" Tyr squeaked, casting her gaze around for some support, but finding none, not even from Hemera. "The law states that to steal from a goddess is to suffer for your crimes by being hanged at the setting of the sun. To take the appearance of a priestess and to use it for your own gain is to steal from a goddess. Auntie, that was the law you yourself gave after Titus the Thief was found with your crown and surrounded by a harem of mares painted as priestesses of the sun."

"That is atrocious!" said a unicorn that looked like a Priestess of Beauty. Rarity, Tyr had heard the other ponies calling that one Rarity. She needed to remember to think of the mortals by their proper names. Tyr lifted her head a little and gave Rarity a happy smile.

"I know," Tyr responded, glad to have some support. "Mortals that steal from the goddesses deserve what they get."

"I can't even think about hanging any pony in such a manner. The hanging is bad enough, but to use their own... I think I'm going to be sick," Rarity said before turning and galloping towards a nearby waste bin and emptying her stomach.

Hemera stopped walking, looked over her shoulder and gave Tyr a look that could make a mountain crumble. Gulping, her hooves trembling as they gripped Hemera's golden armour, Tyr shrunk away from her aunt's disappointment and anger. The message was clear; Tyr wasn't to scare the mortals. At least, she hoped that was the message.

Hemera began walking once more, a sigh escaping her lips as she whispered to herself. "This is why we foster our foals among the other races."

Stifling a sob, Tyr remained silent for the rest of the journey. All around her the mortals had grown sullen, putting a little extra space between themselves and the two alicorns. Even Apple Bloom had stopped skipping and babbling about 'cutie marks' and 'crusading'. Tyr had been wanting to ask why an earth pony that was so young wanted to go on a crusade. Those were always filled with terrible monsters and incredible danger. Unless she was getting a crusade mixed up with a quest again. Tyr often had trouble telling the two apart.

It took far too long before they approached the town's library, she could feel the emotions of the mortals weighing down on her like a wet wool blanket. Maybe she was an Emotional Alicorn, Tyr thought, trying to extended her senses outward. As always when she tried to find her purpose and domain Tyr felt nothing. Feeling even more sullen and wretched, she wilted on her aunt's back, barely lifting her head to examine her surroundings. Tyr found her smile returning as they approached the massive domesticated oak. Inside she could feel the energy of three other alicorns; three very familiar energies.

Wriggling off Hemera's back, Tyr turned towards the two other fillies with the group. "Come on," she chirped, her confusion, fear, and sadness forgotten, "I can feel some of the others inside."

Reluctantly Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle followed, each looking briefly towards Hemera for guidance or permission. She give them a little nod and couldn't suppress a laugh as the three fillies raced ahead. Hearing the sound lightened Tyr's heart. Aunt Hemera wasn't mad at her for scaring the mortals. Not really mad, at least. Using her wings to flap up high enough to reach the door handle, Tyr quickly pushed her way inside the library.

Inside she found several more mortals, she ignored them, a Firebird, she'd play with him later, and, most importantly of all, she found the pony that meant the most to her in all of creation.

"Mom!" Tyr shouted, speeding across the room and throwing herself at Aphrodite much as she had done earlier with Hemera.

"'Mom'? Dear, is there something I should know about?" chuckled a deep voice from the other side of the Goddess of Love.

Detaching herself from Aphrodite, Tyr's eyes went wide enough to swallow the sun as she peeked around Aphrodite's back to see who had spoken.

"Daddy?" she said, perplexed. Suddenly a squeal of pure joy escaped her lips as she flung herself forward once more. "Daddy!" Tyr cried, laughing as she squeezed her hooves tight around the stallion's neck as she bore him to the floor. "They said you were gone, and wait... You're not my daddy."

Tyr released the sputtering stallion and took two steps back, a feeling of profound sorrow and emptiness dragging her wings down. She could feel the mortality of the pony, and knew the energies of the three other alicorns in the library. Her father was neither a mortal, nor was he in the library, or anywhere within a dozen leagues.

"Tyr, maybe you should have a seat," Hemera said, bemusement dancing behind her eyes. "I need to have a quick discussion with my niece, and then we'll help get you situated, okay?"

Accepting the question as the order it was, Tyr gave a mute nod then plodded her way to a nearby cushion.

Everything was wrong. She wanted to wail; maybe also scream a bit and pound her hooves, just for emphasis. It was like a pony had taken everything she knew and scrambled it all up. Tyr had no idea what to do or even what was going on. She knew just two things; she was far from home and that everypony seemed to be different than she remembered.

Resigned to everything being turned on its head, Tyr tried not to make any sound, promptly failing as a pink pony appeared inches from her face.

"Hello, my name is Pinkie Pie, and your name is Tyr, right? That's what the princess called you, so it must be, right? Right! Of course you are. And you're new in town. I know you are because I know every pony in town and I've never met you before. So that means I was right! This is also a 'Welcome to Ponyville' party as well as a 'Happy Birthday Twilight' and a 'Happy Becoming An All Powerful Alicorn Twilight' party! It's three parties in one. A Tri-arty. No, that doesn't sound right. A trippy? A tritty? Hmmm... this is a toughie."

As the hyperactive pink ball of pink continued her barrage on her, Tyr sat there, frozen, head as far away as it could get from the possibly-dangerous blob. Curving across the room behind Pinkie, Tyr could see three banners stretched from side to side, one for each of the events Pinkie had named. Beneath the banners sat a low table covered in punch, snacks, and various treats. A few other mortals sat near the table, each giving Tyr long appraising glances. Used to being under such scrutiny by ponies, Tyr tried to sit straight. The young alicorn soon wilted as tears built in her eyes. Uncertainty coupled with the bouncing pink form in front of her quickly wearing down her resolve.

She just didn't know where everything went wrong.

The last thing Tyr could remember before waking up in that glade was going to bed and being tucked into the sheets by her mother. She had no recollection of how she got from her chambers in the Citadel of Light to the glade. But she had to have gotten to the glade somehow, and if she didn't go there herself, that meant somepony had taken her. And that meant only one thing; heroes.

Tyr gave out a fearful gulp as her eyes sought the pegasus that she had mistaken for Artemis. Fluttershy was sitting by the punch bowl chatting amiably with some of her friends.

The timid pegasus, whom Tyr had observed jumping at her own shadow a couple times already, didn't seem the type to be a hero. All the heroes that Tyr had met were larger-than-life, grand figures that commanded a room as if they were an alicorn even though they were just mortals. Well, more than mortal, perhaps. Each hero was the chosen of an alicorn and granted a small portion of their matron’s power in times of need. Throughout the long annals of history there had been hundreds of heroes, each with a legendary tale.

Tyr had never really understood why an alicorn would seek out a hero. But she also couldn't deny the power and effect a hero could have.

On the other hoof, there was Fluttershy. She just seemed to embody everything a hero wasn't. Until she could make sense of what had happened, Tyr decided the best course of action was to keep quiet. Perhaps somepony she knew would find her, tell her what happened. Comforted by the thought, Tyr managed to calm herself just as the pink menace —Pinkie, she reminded herself— finished listing off combinations of 'tri' and 'party'.

Taking a long breath, Pinkie said, "You should go mingle, meet the other ponies. I am sure you'll get along great with the Crusaders."

With that Pinkie Pie began to bounce off towards Zecora and Rarity, singing a simple, happy tune. Tyr wasn’t alone for long, as next time she looked up she herself face-to-face with the pony who looked and felt like her mother. Tyr took a long gulp as she looked up into her soft pink eyes. After a moment Celestia joined them, sitting down beside Tyr.

It only took a few seconds for her resolve of silence to crumble. “I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”

"Oh? Why would you say that?" Cadence asked, wrapping a wing around the filly to bring her into a hug.

It was a hug that felt so familiar and right, and that just made things worse. Deep inside Tyr's heart a wall crumbled, one she hadn't even realised existed. Her heart beat faster, her breaths becoming quick and shallow as a trail of sparkling tears began to trail down her cheeks.

"Because... because... I scared all the mortals, and you two seem so disappointed in me and, and, I don't know what's happening!"

Tyr’s tears dripped off her muzzle in a constant stream of crystal drops, as Tyr started hiccuping between sobs. Then Cadence started to sing, a simple lilting melody drifting through her consciousness and around the room. As Cadence sang, Celestia picked the tears up, one by one, folding them into a small cloth. Soon everypony present found themselves entranced by the song.

Over in Everfree, many years ago

My mother sang this song to me in tones so sweet and low

Just a simple little ditty in her good old fashioned way

And I'd give the world if she could sing that song to me this day

Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Too-ra-loo-ra-li

Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, hush now, don't you cry

Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Too-ra-loo-ra-li

Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, that's an Equish lullaby.

"I wish my sister was here, too," Tyr murmured, nestling into Cadence’s side as sleep claimed her.

Moments later a flare of magic snapped every unicorn’s attention to Twilight's room. As quickly as it had appeared it vanished. All eyes turned to Celestia, whose only response was a small smile touching her lips.

"It seems Twilight and my sister have taken their leave. I imagine they will not return until the morn." Celestia gazed down on Tyr with an unreadable expression.

"The poor thing," Fluttershy said as she slowly crossed the room, a blanket tucked under a wing. "She's had a short, stressful day," she added before draping the blanket over Tyr. She started back towards her friends before looking over her shoulder at Celestia, lightly chewing on her lip, as she gathered the courage to ask the question on everypony’s mind. "Princess, what she said earlier, about, um, how you, um, punish ponies. You've never done that, right? I-I mean, n-not that I think you ever would, but..."

"She had seemed so certain," Celestia said, finishing Fluttershy's thought, receiving a meek affirmative. "No, I never have and I never would. But I know of a pony who would have."

"Oh... um... who? If, you don't mind telling us?" Fluttershy retreated further and further into her mane, everypony in the room slowly gathering around.

Celestia let out a weary sigh.

"A pony I am glad to have not seen in nearly two thousand years," was Celestia’s simple reply, turning a remorseful gaze down to the bundle between her and Cadence.

"What are we going to do about her, Auntie?" Cadence said, pausing in humming the tune of the lullaby, her wing pulling the slumbering alicorn filly closer.

Celestia had been thinking through her options, turning possibilities over, dismissing some and considering others. She had been ready for the arrival of three grown and awakened Alicorns. The possibility of one being a foal had only briefly crossed her mind the previous evening, but had been quickly discounted. She’d been prepared for the three to be wanderers, arriving on Ioka after countless ages. A filly had seemed almost preposterous in comparison.

She did know what she needed to do about Tyr, but the complications and problems would be many.

"Ordinarily, I'd say she needs to be fostered, much as Lady Sparkle and Lord Chaser fostered Twilight." Celestia gave an appreciative look to the them, as they stood there shuffling their hooves awkwardly.

"Your majesty, we love Twilight, and I wish I could tell you both the name of her real mother and—"

"Lady Sparkle, there is no need to apologise yet again, and you are her real mother. You will always fill that place in her heart, never doubt that."

"Um, Princesses, what's this 'fostering' thing ya'll are talking about?" Applejack pushed back the brim of her hat, a pensive look on her face. "And I ain't so sure I buy all this 'Twilight is an alicorn' stuff ponies been saying all evening."

"Fostering, dear Applejack, isn't that different from fostering any foal. The only difference is that magic is used to conceal the foal’s nature so that she may grow up as normally as any other pony. I was fostered, as was my sister and Cadence. They grow up just like any other foal, discover their special talent, and on their twenty-first birthday, they Awaken."

"That's why Twilight's always had dreams," exclaimed Rarity. Realizing her outburst, Rarity covered her embarrassment with a little cough. "I, um, I always thought she was just joking, or making up stories when she would come over for morning tea and talk about her latest dream. After all, we unicorns so rarely dream."

"Wait, you can't dream, Sweetie?" Apple Bloom gave her friend a perplexed stare.

Sweetie just shrugged. "Yeah, but it's not a big deal, really. Mom always says, 'you rarely miss something you've never had'. I'm not sure why other ponies make a big fuss about dreaming."

"It is a 'big deal'," Celestia came close to snapping, only barely managing to control her voice. She disliked talking about unicorns' difficulty dreaming, and quickly corrected the conversation's course. "But it is also nothing that can ever be changed, so we all live with the effects, as best we can."

"Now," She continued with hardly a pause, "Tyr here has clearly not been fostered. The obvious answer, to many problems, would be to foster her right away. But there is the small matter that the other two alicorns that arrived may be her parents."

"Whoa, hold up, there are two more?" Rainbow Dash gave a deadpan stare. "First Twilight, then her, and now more? I think I need something stronger than punch to drink."

"I put some hard cider in the back room, if that's more to your taste, Dash," Applejack said, smirking as Dash disappeared into the kitchen.

"So, what are you going to do then, princess?" Velvet Sparkle asked.

Before Celestia could respond, Fleur spoke up, saying, "I'll foster her," in a confident voice.

Dead silence rang through the room.

Clearing her throat, Rarity put a gentle hoof on her friend's shoulder.

"Darling, I don't think that is a good idea—"

"I agree with Rarity, and I am sorry Fleur. Tyr isn't going to be like a normal filly, even after being fostered. This is going to require a very deft hoof with foals, and the only one who has quite enough experience, and I mean centuries of it, is Cadence. She's foalsat for the nobility since... I can't recall when."

Cadence gave a soft laugh and rolled her eyes, while a brief flash of crushing sadness flickered across Fleur's face. "Since I discovered my special talent was showing and bringing out the love and kindness in other ponies, Auntie. That'd be... one thousand and twelve years ago, I think. Oh, how the Nightmare would storm through her palace cursing whenever she caught me foalsitting down in the village. I'd be happy to take care of Tyr. She already seems to think I'm her mother, after all. And Fleur, I'd love your help, if you want to give it." Fleur gave a weak affirmative as Cadence continued, "Oh, this is going to be fun! Just like taking care of Twilight all over again, right dear?" Cadence turned her head, giving Shining a gentle peck on the cheek.

"Yes, fun," he agreed, sarcasm lacing his voice as he remembered the magic flares of Twilight’s younger years.

"Good, now that we've settled that matter, I need to return to Canterlot. There are preparations for Twilight's coronation, two more alicorns to find, and a formless black fog that needs containing. Good evening, every pony," Celestia said, her armour clanking as she stood and made her way out into the sunset.

Chapter Five: The Morning After

Myths and Birthrights

By Tundara

Part One: Awakening and Arrivals

Chapter Five: The Morning After

The first thing Twilight became aware of was the headache. It was larger than the entire Canterlot Royal Archives and the Manehattan Regional library combined. Groaning about the roaches scuttling between the floorboards, Twilight rolled off her bed and onto an equally pained Luna. The Princess of the Moon let out a thousand year old oath as Twilight fell on her.

“P-princess Luna?” Twilight stuttered, her thoughts too muddled with pain, sleep, and the last lingering traces of Moonshine Wine. “What... How... Where did,” Twilight’s voice hitched as a particularly strong throb of pain struck and Twilight found her stomach making an unpleasant series of twists and knots.

Holding back a cry, Twilight turned and dashed into the bathroom, where she proceeded to empty what little contents her stomach held into the waiting toilet. Twilight hovered over the porcelain seat for what felt like hours, sparkling mane streaming into her eyes and a dull wet sheen of sweat making her coat feel terrible. When her insides finally stopped rebelling, Twilight slipped into the shower and washed away the feeling of dirt and shame.

As she stood in the shower, her mind wandered back to the previous day and evening. It all seemed like a dream. She wouldn’t have believed that any of the events had happened, if not for the wings. The corner of Twilight’s face twitch with annoyance as a wing lashed out and knocked all her shampoos and conditioners off a ledge.

It was going to take some time getting used to having two new appendages, Twilight knew, but that didn’t stop her from groaning every time a wing did something she didn’t intend. At least her magic hadn’t changed... Except her pool had gotten bigger.

“Huh?” Twilight muttered her eyes closed as she lathered her mane, as the realization about her magic pool struck her.

Being able to sense and ‘see’ your magic pool was crucial and second nature to most magical creatures. It was just smart and good management for unicorns to keep tabs on their magical reserves. The most basic lessons in magical kindergarten were learning to see the magic pool and avoid magical exhaustion. Twilight was in the habit of checking her reserves every time she closed her eyes. With the headache and the few fragments of memory floating up in her thoughts, Twilight expected her magic pool to have been around the seventy percent mark. Instead, she couldn’t even see a bottom to her pool.

No, Twilight corrected, it wasn’t that her pool had no bottom; rather it connected to other pools through spidery threads. Along the threads Twilight could feel the ebb and flow of magic as it flowed both to and from her pool. Biting on her lower lip, Twilight took one of the thickest threads and began to follow it. After a few moments lights began to spring up from a backdrop of endless black. Through both sets of vision, gazing on her pool, and her new Alicorn senses, Twilight could see the threads connecting to the stars.

Mistress, you’re back, came the jubilant call of hundreds of voices.

Twilight flicked an ear and ‘looked’, her eyes still closed to avoid getting shampoo in them, towards the source of the voices. High above Twilight could sense dozens of stars watching her. The sensation made her skin crawl a little.

“Gah, do you girls have no sense of privacy?” Twilight snapped, her eyes opening. “Ow!” Twilight slammed her eyes closed again as shampoo stung her vision.

We were worried, admitted Polaris. We knew you arrived there just fine, but got concerned you might overshoot your return.

You mean ‘you’, Hun, laughed Brachium, You should have seen Polaris, Mistress. She was all, ‘Oh dear and woe is us, we gone and done it now. She ain’t our mistress more than five minutes and we be catapulting her across time.’

Twilight could see through her closed eyes, the roof of her home, and blue morning sky, Polaris take on a deep pink blush.

I said nothing like that. Polaris pouted, the star wriggling back and forth a little like a foal with her hoof caught in the cookie jar.

Uh-huh, no, you were far worse. I thought we’d have to get Sirius to calm you down, honey, ‘scept she’s off Moon knows where.

Twilight ears perked up, flicking a little spray of water.

“What do you mean? Sirius is missing?” The first hint of panic was already creeping into her voice. Only one thought circulated in her head, ‘I’ve already lost one of the stars, and she’s the brightest star of them all! I am the worst Alicorn ever.’

You’re not the worst alicorn ever. Regulus scoffed. That honour goes to—

Ah, ah, ah, spoilers! That’s between the mistress and—

A sharp knock on the door, followed by Luna’s voice, brought Twilight back down to Equestria with a whump, landing in a soggy mess in the bottom of the shower.

“Twilight, are you alright in there? I heard you talking to somepony.”

“Um, yeah,” Twilight called through the door as she stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel with her magic. “I was just talking with a few of the stars.”

Luna was silent for a few moments, than asked carefully, “They were still awake?”

“Yes?” Twilight hesitantly replied, then turned her attention back to the stars, “You were awake, right?”

Some of us are always awake, just as night shrouds half the sky at all times. Polaris hedged. But if you mean were those whom just greeted you awake, no, we were sleeping.

And quite soundly at that, might I add, snorted Regulus, the star gaining a chorus of agreement and support from her sisters. If there is nothing more, I would love to get some sleep. The sun can get rather cranky, especially with the stunt we pulled yesterday. Best to let her calm down some.

“Twilight?”

“Um, yes, sorry, just talking to the stars,” Twilight giggled, liking the sound of those words.

Talking to the stars, her stars. She wasn’t so sure how it worked. Each was clearly an individual, with her own thoughts and motives, yet tied to her. Twilight would ask Luna and Celestia about it when she got a chance. They were both tied to the moon and sun respectively; maybe they could give her some more guidance. Luna had given her a little bit, then the whole Wish thing had happened and... Twilight knitted her brows together trying to think about the previous evening as she swung the door open.

Calling it a fuzzy blur was an understatement. She could clearly remember hearing Celestia’s voice echoing among the stars, then a rush followed by a fall, waking in a tent, and then... the most wonderful taste. But events quickly grew disheveled and confused. For instance, Twilight kept thinking that Celestia had spent the evening talking in middle equestrian, which was foolish. Luna had spoken in middle equestrian for a while after her return, but three years of speech therapy and living among modern ponies had softened her archaic vocabulary and syntax.

Twilight came out of her thought as she looked on the Princess of the Night. Luna had a thin smile touching her lips, like she knew something that Twilight didn’t. Which was more than true, Twilight internally grumbled. Luna was two thousand years old, counting her exile, and knew many things Twilight could barely begin to comprehend.

What really bothered Twilight was how spry and refreshed Luna looked. Twilight could swear that Luna had been there with that wonderful, wonderful drink. She had no right to look so pleasant when Twilight felt like another anvil had just landed on her head.

Twilight opened her mouth to say as much, then snapped it shut before asking instead, “Luna, I don’t understand. If I am the Stars, then why are each also individuals?”

“Didn’t we explain this last night?” Luna tilted her head to one said, a perplexed frown on her face for a moment before it was broken by a light laugh. “No, I believe we were well into the third bottle of Moonshine Wine by that point.

"Think of yourself not so much ‘the Stars’ themselves, but rather as their caretaker. They are part of you yes, and you them, but you are also separate as well. The sun and moon existed long before either Celestia or I, but both said they felt completed and whole after our births. I don’t think there is a good way to explain it, but it is something that I am sure you can already feel on an instinctual level.”

Twilight thought over Luna’s explanation, and knew it was right. It’d be nearly impossible to explain to the girls, you had to experience it. ‘Maybe this is what a Hydra feels like,’ Twilight thought with a slight chuckle, ‘a Hydra with over six thousand heads.’ Except, Twilight was in charge and responsible for the stars, while each head of a Hydra was theoretically equal. No pony was certain as studying Hydras wasn’t something any pony had thought to do in a long time. The last pony to try didn’t survive long enough to share her findings.

Pushing the thoughts back to be analyzed later, Twilight followed Luna out into the library’s main room. There they found over a dozen ponies strewn about in sleeping bags or on couches and cushions. All Twilight’s friends, family, the CMC, and a pony Twilight vaguely recalled from Canterlot were in various states of sleep. A couple blinked open sleep encrusted eyes, while others, namely Pinkie Pie, lay on their backs, legs splayed and snoring softly.

“Twilight, you’re awake,” Cadence stated with a smile from where she lay, a wing wrapped around small sleeping bundle, then to Luna she added in a slightly cold tone, “Good morning, mother.”

“Morning, heart of my night,” Luna responded, her voice both hurt and hopeful, but was cut short as Cadence gave her head a sharp shake and disapproving not-glare to Luna.

The tension between the two princesses hung like mist clinging in the air. Cadence had been a constant in Twilight’s life, almost like another mother, and Twilight knew her to have a gentle and forgiving spirit. What had happened to cause Cadence to be unable to forgive her own mother? Then again, maybe it as better Twilight didn’t know. Nightmare Moon had been brushed out of history for a reason. Though it did make Twilight ponder what other events or ponies had been deliberately hidden or altered by Celestia and Cadence.

Clearing her throat, Luna brought Twilight out of her thoughts, asking, “Who do you have there?”

Twilight was startled to see and feel the glowing energy beside Cadence. It felt similar to the two princesses, but unrefined or undirected. Hunting and seeking a purpose it knew was almost within its grasp but would slip through its hooves if it tried to grab a hold. Gingerly, Cadence withdrew her wing, and Twilight got her first look at Tyr. Twilight’s mouth fell open, and if it had been possible, or if she was Pinkie, it would have hit the floor and bounced beneath a bookshelf.

“So, they are fillies?” Luna asked, her proud voice making other ponies stir. “Or is it just this one? I do not feel the presence of the other two, so?”

“Auntie Tia has gone back to Canterlot to see if she can locate the others, and that smoke-thing that attacked the two of you,” Cadence said, her wing again covering Tyr.

“’Others’? Who or what are you talking about?” Twilight tried to keep her voice down, but still managed to disturb Fluttershy and Applejack.

“Whatever y’all are jabbering about, could you keep it down? Some ponies are trying to sleep.” Applejack rolled over as she grumbled, throwing a hoof over Fluttershy’s withers before pulling the startled Pegasus close like she was a stuffed toy. Fluttershy gave a little whimper, but didn’t struggle against Applejack. After a couple moments, Applejack’s head shot up, “Hey, wait, yer back?”

Twilight quickly found a pair of powerful legs wrapped around her neck.

“Landsakes, where’d you two go off to? Pinkie and Cadence told us about that smoke-thing, and how Peewee saved y’all, then Celestia said you had to go somewhere or some such.” Applejack gave Twilight a single tight squeeze, before pushing the alicorn back a little to get a good look at her. “Wow Twi,” Applejack breathed, her eyes fixated on Twilight’s mane, occasionally flickering to Twilight’s new wings. “I don’t think I really believed it till now. You really are an Alicorn and Princess.”

Before Twilight could fully form a response, the most obvious being, ‘Yes, now please let me have some space,’ Twilight felt three more bodies wrap themselves around her as excited voices began demanding answers or just babbling. Loudest of the four was Pinkie Pie.

“Oh, wowie! This is so neat. I knew it was going to be neat, but this is like super-duper-extra neat-o-rific! Ooo, your mane is so sparkly. Twilight Sparkle with the sparkling mane, Heh, he, he.” Pinkie’s voice dropped in pitch as the party pony dunked her head into Twilight’s mane. “This is like swimming in spearmint!” Pinkie giggled, pulling her head from Twilight’s mane.

Cheeks burning a deep red, Twilight tried to calm her friends while fighting for breath. She wondered for a moment if it was possible for an alicorn to suffocate. It certainly must be possible. She had flesh and bones, had to sleep still, and all the rest, so she certainly needed to breath.

“Girls, um, girls, I think your crushing her,” Fluttershy murmured, poking both Applejack and Pinkie on the flank in an attempt to gain their attention.

Sighing, Luna’s horn lit with magic, the four mares that had piled atop Twilight lifting up in a soft silvery-blue glow. Eyes spinning, Twilight choked out a brief ‘thank you’, before climbing back to her hooves and giving each of her friends a more sedate hug. With all the commotion, everypony had woken, and Twilight found herself in her brother’s hooves, then her fathers, and then she was in front of Velvet.

“Mother,” Twilight said stiffly. Thoughts drifting back to the hazy events of the previous night, or the night a thousand years ago depending on point of view, and watching Celestia and Luna make amends, Twilight felt much of the sharp anger burning in her breast fade a little. She was still hurt, but her body didn’t tense and she managed to lean forward and give Velvet an awkward embrace. She didn’t know if things could go back to the way they had been, but Twilight knew better than to hold onto that anger and pain.

“I’m sorry I can’t tell you the things you wish to know,” Velvet whispered as she gently stroked Twilight’s mane in the same manner as when Twilight had been a filly and had crawled into Velvet’s lap after a bad dream.

“It’s okay, I think I understand,” Twilight responded, tears pooling in her eyes but not running down her cheeks. “I mean, a Geas is a pretty extreme measure, and I think I am madder that I can’t really be mad because of it.”

For a few moments Velvet’s mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping on a dock. Giving up on trying to word what she wanted to say, Velvet gave Twilight another hug, then said, “I never wanted to see you hurt, my little star. Though, I guess you aren’t just my little star now, are you?”

“Well, from what I gather I’m not really—“

“Yeah, yeah, mystical alicorn stuff,” Dash interrupted, waving a dismissive hoof before jabbing Twilight in the chest. “Okay, spread ‘em. I want to see what we’re going to be working with.”

Twilight blinked a couple times, and thought she did rather well when she came out with a very intelligent response of, “Huh?”

“Your wings. As your best friend I claim rights and dibsies on teaching you how to fly.” Dash puffed out her chest, then a momentary look of worry crossed her face. “You didn’t get magical knowledge of how to fly, did you?”

“I... uh, I’m not sure?” Twilight offered, rubbing the back of her head while she looked to Cadence and Luna.

“Don’t look at me,” Cadence said with a half-grin, “I was raised as a Pegasus. Even then my mother was having me tutored in the other races magic, even if I couldn’t use them yet.”

Blushing furiously, though it was hard to see with her dark coat, Luna said, “I wasn’t exactly in what one could call a good frame of mind at the time. To answer your question; no, you don’t gain sudden magical knowledge of all your magic. Much like I’ve been teaching you how to access and use your Alicorn Awareness, you’ll have to learn how to use Earth and Pegasi magic. You’ve progressed remarkably fast so far. I never expected you to answer a Wish on your first night and take us back in time a thousand years. That was a pleasant surprise.”

“Wait,” Spike piped up from where he and the Cutie Mark Crusaders sat. “You went back in time a thousand years?”

There was a general murmur of surprise and confusion from the gathered ponies, and a few awed gasps from the younger ponies. It was Twilight’s turn to blush as she grumbled, “I wasn’t trying to answer it or anything. I just heard it, got curious, and one thing lead to another.”

“You can answer Wishes?” three voice filled with innocent hope said as one.

Twilight’s eyes grew wide as the three crusaders appeared directly in front of her and grinning up at her with the broadest smiles imaginable. Pinkie Pie would have had difficulty wearing a smile like the ones the crusaders sent up at Twilight. And the eyes! They were like six obsidian orbs that spoke and pleaded without the need of sound. Twilight felt a stab of absolutely wretchedness, and she had yet to crush their young hope.

Thankfully, she was saved having to be the one to destroy the crusaders’ unspoken idea by Luna.

“I’m afraid Wishes don’t work in the way you believe. You’d have to wish upon a falling star. Then your need or desire would have to be strong enough that the other stars could hear it. And then a star, or stars, would have to take it and hold onto your wish until they shared it with Twilight. I only ever granted four wishes during the many centuries that I watched over the stars.”

Twilight took back her silent thanks to Luna a moment later as the full weight and guilt of the crusaders’ crushed ideas crashed into her.

“You mean you can’t grant us our wish to have our cutie marks?” Sweetie Belle sniffled.

‘Those three should be classified as non-lethal weapons,’ Twilight thought to herself as she prepared to support Luna.

Again, she was saved through timely intervention.

“Now, girls, what have Applejack and I told you time and time again?” Rarity gave her sister a long disapproving glower.

“We’ll get our marks eventually, we just have to be patient,” the three intoned together.

“That’s right. Ain’t nothing that can make a cutie mark come before it’s time.”

“Besides, trying to force a wish can be very dangerous.” Luna said, her tone terse and grave. “I tried to force a wish once. The results were corrupted and twisted.”

“Okay, forcing wishes are bad.” Dash interjected, rolling a hoof in a ‘let’s get this going’ motion, “Now, Twilight, can you please spread your wings?”

“Alright, fine, if it makes you happy Dash.”

It took Twilight several attempts to figure out how to move the new muscles. Her wings kept twitching or shooting out to then flump onto the floor. Eyes scrunched shut, Twilight finally heard the gathered ponies gasp as she flared her new wings. Twilight herself didn’t look, too afraid that if she did she’d lose control again. Similarly it took her a few false attempts to close her wings again.

“Okay, yeah, that is a lot of wing to work with,” Dash said, her eyes already going distant as dreams and images of racing one of her best friends danced in her head.

“’A lot to work with’? Dash, those wings are simply, and you will all have to forgive me here, but they are divine. Why, the way they flow, and the shading of the tips.” It was Rarity’s turn to descend into her imagination as dresses, fabrics, and colour schemes began to take shape before her vision.

“So, does this mean you’re a princess now, Twilight?” Apple Bloom asked, her question sending a stab of panic deep into Twilight’s already anxious chest.

Twilight was going to deny it on the spot. Her? A Princess? That was a ludicrous notion if ever she had heard one. She knew hardly anything about the law or Equestria’s government, despite spending half her life living in the palace as Celestia’s protégé. All her training had been in magic, theoretical magic, controlling magic, and the history of magic. Sure, she was a voracious reader, but even Twilight found reading the tomes on law to be duller than watching paint dry.

Beyond that, Equestria was a Diarchy, which meant it had two rulers. Cadence wasn’t strictly speaking a princess of Equestria, but rather the small princessipality of the Crystal City and its few outlying towns and villages. In practice, it acted like a province of Equestria, the close ties between Cadence and Celestia, not to mention Cadence spending the bulk of her time in Canterlot and not the land she technically ruled, only further muddied perceptions. The Crystal City didn’t even have any ambassadors in Canterlot. Why bother when the head of ‘state’ spent all but one week in the year in Equestria’s capitol?

Before Luna’s return, Twilight had sometimes wondered why Equestria was called a diarchy when it was ruled by only a single princess. She had thought the question answered when she’d uncovered the legend of Nightmare Moon. Just another technical hold-over from a bygone time.

All these thoughts rampaged across Twilight’s mind in the blink of an eye, and she was still beaten to the kick, though not in the manner she expected.

“Why would she want to be a princess? She’s a Goddess.” Tyr’s small head poked out from beneath Cadence’s wing, a perplexed look pinching her brows.

“That is precisely why it is better to be a princess.” Cadence chuckled. “Even as a Princess, ponies will pray to you. In the last few minutes I’ve heard almost a dozen prayers in my name asking for blessings in a pony’s love life. Imagine how many more that would be if I was the Goddess Cadence, rather than just Princess Cadence.”

“Wait, are you saying every time we say your name you can hear us?” Comet Chaser asked, looking a little green as his mind invariably went back to every time he’d used one of the princesses names, some in rather compromising situations.

“Not precisely. And not just hear, but also see. But it has to be a prayer. You can say our names until you’re blue in the face and it won’t do anything. But if you pray, then we can ‘look in’ and listen briefly to the pony.”

“Twilight, did you know about this?” Rarity asked, a tremor of concern in her voice.

“Well, yeah,” Twilight blinked a few times, taken aback by the frightened and scandalized looks all her friends and father were giving her. “It was one of my first lessons with Celestia, I, uh, had a habit of praying while studying. Celestia described it as ‘distracting’ and ‘cute’.” Her cheeks burning hot enough that water would vanish on contact, Twilight quickly said, “Celestia taught me to only pray if I was in trouble.”

“It was the same when I used to foalsit you,” Cadence said, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “The difference, however, is what we can do about prayers.”

“Come again? Ain’t a prayer a prayer?”

“Yes,” Luna chuckled. “But remember there are three types of Alicorn, much as there are three types of pony.”

“I’m getting so confused right now,” Applejack muttered, rubbing her temples with her hooves. “What do you mean there are three types of Alicorn?”

“You didn’t know?” Luna arched a brow following it with a sigh. “Now I’m starting to get who knows what confused. I have an idea. Twilight, you should explain what you’ve learned to your friends.”

Twilight face brightened considerably at the prospect of giving a lecture. It was not a look shared by her friends.

“Okay, well, you know that Celestia and Luna are the Sun and Moon, respectively, I am the Stars and Cadence is Love, right?” Slow nods. “Well, we,” here Twilight indicated Luna and herself, “Are Physical Alicorns. It means we govern and are bound to something in the world itself. Cadence is an Emotional Alicorn. She is tied into the emotional field created by ponies and other sapient life. Love isn’t a thing like the sun, moon, or stars, but it is a real force or energy present in the world. Just being near Cadence causes the love you feel to be stronger, which in turn makes her more powerful, as the more love there is the stronger Cadence becomes. It creates a positive feed-back loop of sorts. Cadence has lived so long in Canterlot that it’s a little surprising the Changelings didn’t attack the city sooner.

“Now, if you pray to Cadence, the prayer has to be in some way about Love, and if it is she can exert an amount of influence on the pony or ponies praying. This is different with Physicals. We can see and listen in, but since our powers are tied directly into something that actually exists, there isn’t a whole lot we could do other than show up. Understand?”

Applejack and the other Elements of Harmony all shared a long considering look, then as one shook their heads. Giving an exasperated snort, Twilight tried to think of a new way to explain it to her friends. Rainbow Dash waved her off, the Pegasus giving a little chuckle.

“I think we all get it that if we ‘pray’ to you, you’ll be able to spy and eavesdrop on us.”

“Oh my, and if everypony always thought of you as a Goddess, and they could get your attention with prayers... How does Celestia manage with so many ponies praying to her every day?” Fluttershy gave a sympathetic shiver as she thought about hearing the voices of hundreds or thousands of ponies all the time.

Luna gave a light chuckle. “You learn to tune it out and listen for the important voices, like Twilight’s or those of the Elements of Harmony.”

“There’s something else I been meaning to ask,” Applejack shifted uncomfortably. “Pinkie told us all about that smoke thing—.”

“Puff the Smokey Alicorn,” Pinkie interjected a knowing grin on her face.

“And how it almost got Twilight yesterday,” Applejack continued without even looking at her friend, used to Pinkie’s ways.” But why’d it run off when Peewee attacked it, and what did it want?”

“I-uh, don’t know,” Twilight admitted, shifting her attention to Luna, hoping for an answer herself.

“This is conjecture, but I believe it has to do with the nature of the... Puff the Smokey Alicorn,” Luna said, her voice faltering for a moment as she received a significant look from Pinkie. “Phoenixes are closely attuned to the sun, just like a Stellar Beast such as an Ursa Minor is attuned to the stars or the Werefolk are to the moon.”

“Werefolk? As in Werewolves? Like in Daring Do and the Temple of the Moon?”

“Yes, exactly like in that piece of pulp fiction,” Luna deadpanned, staring down an almost prancing with excitement Rainbow Dash. Gesturing to where Peewee and Owlowiscious sat watching the group of ponies, Luna continued, “Moving on, given that Peewee managed to drive away Puff, I’d wager the smoke is attuned to either moon or star magic, most likely the later given Puff’s interest in Twilight. She’ll be like a beacon to creatures and monsters attuned to star magic.”

“More of them will come looking for me?” Twilight gulped. Her mind drifted back to the Ursa Minor and the damage its short rampage had caused to the small town. She could sometime still hear its roars or smell its fetid breath when she closed her eyes to go to sleep. It had always amazed her how easily she had managed to calm and contain the beast. Now she knew at least partially why.

“Some might,” Cadence laughed, “When I first Awakened a group of Nymphs came out of the Everfree to find me.”

That caused a short spat of laughter among the adults who were aware of Nymphs and the kind of ‘love’ they followed. The youngsters all just looked at the adults like they were a bit mad.

A little perturbed that her question about Twilight being a princess still hadn’t really been answered, Apple Bloom repeated it.

“Well, that is up to Twilight,” Cadence laughed, her clear voice making the assembled ponies smile as a wave of warmth washed over them. Shining slid a little closer to his wife, gently nuzzling her while Comet threw a leg around Velvet and pulled her tight against his chest. “Auntie and I have been getting things ready just in case. I believe the coronation could be held as early as next week.”

Twilight sat considering everything. Her life, her future, what ponies would expect from her as an Alicorn, all of it circled through her thoughts. There would be confusion and worry by many almost certainly. In many ways, being a princess would solve a lot of problems, and Twilight couldn’t deny that a part of her had always dreamed and wanted to be a princess. But now the possibility wasn’t just real, it was staring her in the face, Twilight felt a hitch of uncertainty in her belly.

Either way, everything was ending. It would be impossible to go on living the life of a simple country librarian who on occasion went out and saved the nation or world. Even her title as Countess of the Everfree paled in comparison to the offer before her. The nobles wouldn’t be able to ignore her any longer. But that was true regardless. She was in some manner related to Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, either as a sister or as a cousin, if she understood Luna correctly from their brief conversation on the subject before Twilight had noticed the Wish.

They could attempt to hide the truth, but all it would take would be a single slip by Twilight and it would all come crashing down. A cover story about the stars’ display had probably already been prepared, assuming Celestia had anticipated the stars gathering above Ponyville in broad daylight. On top of that was the tiny issue that Twilight wouldn’t age. Eventually, she’d have to leave Ponyville, and a part of her asked, ‘Why postpone and fight the inevitable when it is something you’ve always wanted’?

“Yes, Apple Bloom,” Twilight said, lowering herself so she was eye to eye with the young farm filly. “I’m going to be a Princess.”

Chapter Six: The Coronation (R)

Myths and Birthrights

By Tundara

Part One: Awakening and Arrivals

Chapter Six: The Coronation

The Citadel of Light was burning.

Panting, Shyara ran down the corridors as the walls trembled and shook. Passing a window, she saw the streaks of red fire being launched by the trebuchets of the Titan's armies. Closing her eyes, Shyara screamed for her mother as she rounded a corner and the citadel groaned under the bombardment.

All around her she could feel the energies given off by her aunts, cousins, and mother. Some were weak and thready, while others flared and then dimmed. Among her family Shyara felt other energies, those given off by the Titans, as they were now called. There were too many and they kept moving so quickly that Shyara didn't know which way to run, so she just ran, twisting and weaving through the corridors of the crumbling Citadel.

The steady deep rumble of hurled boulders and barrels of exploding pitch reverberated through the citadel and Shyara's bones. The smell of burning hair and thick smoke filled the filly's nostrils while the shrieks and cries of the wounded combined with the sharp reports of metal striking metal drowned out her own voice.

Deeper and deeper she went, her small hooves skipping and sliding occasionally as she encountered slick red pools on the polished marble. She tried not to think of what the pools were, to push the thoughts out of her mind and focus instead on running and not falling.

Laughter ahead of her made her skid to a halt.

Minotaurs, three of the bull headed monsters, stood blocking her path. Just past the minotaurs stood the door to Tyr's chambers. The thick steel banded oak had been splintered and torn open; a thin trail of crimson leaked through the opening and was splashed on the wall. There were no signs of the Guards that watched over and protected Shyara's cousin.

"A Godling," the largest of the minotaurs shouted, pointing an arm bulging with muscles towards the filly. "Get her and bring her to Lord Ares."

"Stop! Take one step towards me and I will use my magic on you," Shyara growled, hoping she projected strength and confidence, but feeling her knees shaking.

The two minotaurs that had started towards her paused, looking towards their leader for guidance. Snorting, he pushed past his subordinates and with slow measured strides made his way towards Shyara. "She's just a Godling, they ain't got no magic, yet."

From his large meaty hand extended a triple headed flail, the spiked steel balls sparking as they slammed into the marble floor. Shyara gulped, swiftly backing away from the towering brute.

"Go ahead, little one, use your magic. Rip the flesh from my bones. Crack my chest so I can see the last beats of my heart. Tear the bones from my body. Do it."

Shyara stepped back at the minotaur's vile grin, a slight chill sweeping up her spine. Setting her jaw, she tried to conjure her magic. All that came were a few sputtering silvery-blue sparks that died skipping along the marble and the minotaur's hooves. Gasping for breath, Shyara felt her tentative grip on her magic slip as she backed up against the wall.

"Pathetic."

The minotaur reached down towards Shyara, the terrified alicorn filly unable to look away from the monster's grim, red eyes. A flash of silver caught her attention for a moment, and then the minotaur's arm sailed through the air leaving a trail of crimson viscera. Howling, the minotaur clutched at the stump of his right arm, his flail crashing to the ground. He only began to turn towards his attacker before a steel blade thrust through his chest, hot blood splashing across Shyara's face.

Dead, the minotaur fell to the side revealing his killer.

"Trixelion!" Shyara exclaimed, never more happy in her eighty-five years to see a mortal.

The dragoon didn't respond as she turned to face the two remaining minotaurs. The destruction of their leader had been so swift neither had time to realise what had just occurred. Hefting axe or sword, the two monsters appraised their foe.

Trixelion was tall and slender, her fur dyed a rich violet and covered in gilded steel plate. Her silver mane draped down her shoulders from beneath a war-helmet. Through a hole in the helm was a short rounded horn glowing with blue-white magic. Beside her hovered a long-sword, her magic only visible around the golden hilt. Painted on the flanks of her armour was the great twelve pointed star of the Goddess of the Stars.

Keeping her eyes trained on the Minotaurs, Trixelion said, "Lady Shyara, stay low, I will protect you." To the minotaurs she then added, "Foul beasts, what have you done with the Lady Tyr?"

"Lord Ares already has that one," the left minotaur chuckled, fingers tightened like knots on the haft of his axe.

Hiding behind the dead alpha minotaur, Shyara tried to watch the confrontation. She had heard in song and legend the tales of Heroes and how they fought, and Trixelion was one of the greatest heroes ever as far as she was concerned. For a long moment the two sides stared at each other, and then in rush of clanking metal and sparks, both sides charged.

The minotaurs never stood a chance against Trixelion.

Ducking and weaving, the dragoon avoided their sloppy attacks with practiced ease. The tip of her sword spun around the axe wielding minotaur's guard, slicing across and through his neck. Dropping onto her knees, Trixelion slid beneath the other minotaur. Jumping back up to her hooves she spun and, with a resounding crack, shattered the monster's nearest knee. The beast's screams flowed through the corridor. Screams that were quickly silenced in a bubbling gurgle.

"Pitiful, I would have expected more from Minotaurs," Trixelion spat as she turned and trotted towards Shyara, her blade sliding into its sheath along her side. "My Lady, you are unharmed I pray."

"Y-yes, I'm alright," Shyara mumbled, her eyes fixated on the three unmoving forms.

She'd encountered plenty of dead bodies already in her frantic dash through the Citadel, but this was the first time she'd seen death. Trembling, she felt herself being guided away from the bodies.

"You are in shock, I fear," the dragoon stated, looking Shyara over with a critical eye.

"N-no, I am f—" Shyara's voice faltered as she became aware of an alicorn heading straight towards her.

Before Shyara could call out a warning or duck, the wall in front of them exploded. Shards of stone skipped off Trixelion's armour and Shyara's coat as the dragoon interposed herself between the filly and the explosion. Blinking and coughing through the dust, Shyara let out a strangled gasp.

"Mom!" she cried, trying to leap forward only to be stopped by Trixelion. "Let me go, that's my mom!"

Then she felt more than saw a third alicorn. Shyara recoiled, hissing in pain. It was like having boiling oil poured on her Awareness. The other alicorn could only be a Titan, one filled with seething rage and sadistic glee at the carnage filling the Citadel. There were only two Titans that energy could belong to, and both possibilities made Shyara tremble.

Through the thick dust Shyara could see a shadow stalk forward. Standing before something propped against the wall, dull rust red magic make the shadow's outline glow.

"This has been a pleasant game, but it comes to a close with you once more powerless at my hooves. You were supposed to be one of the strongest among us, only Father and Hemera your greater, and look at you. Broken, weak, and soon to be nothing but a memory and an echo that slowly fades from existence."

The dust settled as the Titan spoke, revealing a massive red stallion covered in dull grey armour. Tears and dents covered the armour's surface, attesting to a life of constant conflict. A golden blonde mane fell haphazardly about his face and partially hid vibrant green eyes. On his flank stood three curved black swords forming an outward spiral. Beside the stallion hovered a massive war-mace, bits of gore and blood dripping from its surface.

"Come, we must leave," Trixelion whispered into Shyara's ear, but the filly stood frozen watching and listening to the scene before her.

Smiling a little, the Titan said, "Don't think I don't know you are there, little Shyara. You and that mortal will be next."

"No, Ares, you will not have them. With the last of my strength, I spit upon you. With the last of my will, I curse you. With the last of my love, I will save my herd. With the last of my magic, I will send them somewhere you can never reach them." Shyara's legs gave out as she heard the malice and fear in her mother's voice. "Trixelion, protect my daughter."

Before anypony could move or respond, a blinding wall of silvery light expanded outwards from the rubble hiding Shyara's mother.

Screaming, the filly jolted upright, her eyes darting madly for some sign of Ares, Trixelion, or her mother. All she saw was the brightly painted interior of Trixie's wagon.

"The nightmare again?" Trixie asked, the showmare rolling over on the bed to watch Shyara.

"Yeah."

"You don't... want to tell Trixie about it, do you? The Great and Powerful Trixie has travelled far and wide, maybe she can help."

Sighing, Shyara shrunk back into the thick quilts. Trixie waited long enough to see that the alicorn still wouldn't tell her about the nightmare before rolling over and closing her eyes.

"Well, try to get some sleep. We still have a long way to travel before we reach Vanhoover."

Giving a weak little nod, Shyara scooted a little closer to Trixie, closed her eyes, and was soon back to sleep. Trixie just rolled her eyes and laid her head back down on the pillows.

* * *

"Okay, Twilight, now, gently, reach out to the stars," Luna said, looking to Twilight as the two sat atop Canterlot's Observatory.

Twilight nodded slowly, gulping back a feeling of apprehension. All around the two alicorns Equestria was wrapped in the hour for which she was named. A soft reddish haze lingering in the west while in the east the very edge of the moon could be seen on the horizon. Overhead there was only a blank inky tapestry, one that was waiting for Twilight to fill with her stars.

Her stars. That idea still seemed so foreign.

Closing her eyes, Twilight started to extend herself outwards and into the sky. She could feel and see Luna still beside her, the darker alicorn a white mist as the two reached towards their respective charges. At Luna's touch, the moon gave a contented sigh and gave Twilight a lazy greeting. Twilight waved to the moon, or tried to, but it was difficult when she was a twinkling mass of purple stardust. Passing the moon and leaving Luna behind, Twilight climbed higher and higher. Ahead she could see her destination, Polaris, the Lodestar gently sparkling as it slumbered.

"When you are ready, Luna," Twilight called down to the older goddess.

Luna swirled closer to the moon until they seemed to merge, and then, in a flair of silvery moonlight, both began to climb into the night. At the same time Twilight flowed closer to Polaris, her essence tingling so close to the star.

"Polaris, time to wake up," she cooed softly.

The sleeping star gave a grunt and rolled over, growing a little dimmer as if she could hide.

"Polaris, come on, let's not delay this, again," Twilight growled giving the star the equivalent of a nudge.

Just another few minutes, please, the Lodestar mumbled, and Twilight could swear it looked like the star was clamping her eyes shut. How exactly a star could do that, when they were balls of energy and light, stymied Twilight.

"Oh no, not tonight, missy. We've been tardy every night this week and I've gotten three protests by the Astronomers Guild, as well as the Astrologers Guild. Tonight we are doing this on time. Got it?"

Giving a weary moan, the star stretched, saying, Alright, mistress. Any particular orders for tonight?

This caused Twilight to hesitate. Polaris had asked the same question the first time Twilight had awoken the stars. Afterwards Luna had explained that the Lodestar was wondering if there were any changes Twilight wanted to make to the night sky. With everything that had been going on Twilight hadn't had time to even consider if she wanted to make any changes to the night.

"Uh, not tonight," Twilight said, and then feeling Polaris take on a disappointed tinge added, "But maybe soon."

Alright, the star said, a hint of unhappiness in her voice. Well, we should get the others up, I suppose.

Lights splashed and weaved across Equestria's skies as together Twilight and Polaris reached out and woke the other stars. In a rolling wave the constellations appeared, the stars glimmering and stretching before beginning their vigil over the ponies and creatures below. Twilight had started to receive letters complimenting and asking her about how different the stars' appearance had become.

Relieved to have been only a little late, Twilight slowly floated down to her body.

Beside her Luna also wore a look of relief. She gave Twilight a slight smile before saying, "Well, I think that has been the best start to a night yet. Though I see Sirius is still refusing to come out."

Suppressing a groan, Twilight followed the older alicorns gaze towards the constellation Canis Major. Sure enough, the star was missing from its spot again.

Grinding her teeth, Twilight again began to lift up into the sky, but was stopped by a light tug. Turning she saw Luna had somehow managed to grab a hold of her. The connection tingled like mint and smelled like fresh rain. As quickly as Luna grabbed her, she let go of Twilight. Feeling a little dazed and lost for a few moments, Twilight couldn't shake the sensation that something was missing but she wasn't sure what.

"Don't worry about the Firestar, you need to start getting ready for the morning," Luna said as she gave Twilight a gentle smile.

"Princess, what was that? When you touched me it felt like a cool winter breeze, and I couldn't think after you let go."

"Ah, yes," Luna looked away and in the early evening light Twilight could almost swear the princess was blushing. "What you just felt, it's a far more... intimate connection than just regular touching. Our essences were mingling and we were, uh, experiencing a bit of the underlying power of the other. By the way, your touch tastes like those frizzy pop rock candies." Luna, leaning down while her eyes hunted for any sign of her sister, added in a conspiratorial whisper, "Celestia is like jalapeños and she smells like cinnamon."

Suppressing a laugh with her hoof, Twilight smiled, forgetting about Sirius' disappearance for a little while.

Together the two Alicorns of the Night walked down into the palace proper and into the hustle and bustle that filled the center of Equestria's government at all times of the day. After a few moments they parted, Luna heading towards Night Court while Twilight turned in the direction of the various royal apartments. The busy activity was a stark contrast to when Twilight had lived in the palace as Celestia's student. Then the palace had grown quiet and serene during the night. Now pages and stewards moved about carrying out the work of supporting Luna's half of the diarchy. All around her servants were putting the final touches on the preparations for the morning.

Or was it their half now? Twilight had little idea what was going to be expected of her in the future, only that in a few hours she'd be a crowned Princess of Equestria, as well as a living goddess. Would she have to hold court? Would she have to live in the palace? Would she have her own personal guards?

On and on the questions went, most left unspoken as she went from lessons on controlling her alicorn powers, to learning to fly under Dash's guidance. Then there were the hounding questions of the press. Twilight was silently thankful that the press were kept off the palace grounds. Between it all she barely had a few minutes in the day to just sit down and relax.

And the nobles! Twilight was no novice at dealing with the nobility, it came part and parcel growing up as the heir of one of the oldest —if not prominent— Houses. For the most part Twilight had managed to avoid dealing too much with the other Houses, that had always been more her mother's forte, and since moving to Ponyville she'd almost dropped completely out of the other Houses' sights. Even when she'd been named a Countess it hadn't caused too much of a stir. A countess of a monster filled forest with no pony living on her land was only marginally more important than a commoner. There was no wealth and little prestige attached to the title.

Winding her way through the busy corridors Twilight gave a little grunt of annoyance. She was supposed to be heading towards her old quarters where her friends would be waiting for her. Instead her hooves carried her towards another portion of the palace.

It wasn't that Twilight wanted to avoid her friends. Sure, Rarity's fawning had started to become a little irksome, and Pinkie's jubilation could wear down the most resilient. Applejack and Fluttershy had taken the change stoically, and while both were genuinely happy for Twilight, neither could fully hide their concerns or fears that this meant the end of their little group. For better or worse, nothing was ever going to be the same. But those were minor compared to the real issue that hovered at the back of Twilight's mind like vulture.

Maybe she could use some of those transformation spells Luna had told her about and return to living in Ponyville. The idea always left her chest feeling a little lighter and the knot of tension constantly in Twilight's stomach would dissipate for a moment. The feeling never lasted as Twilight realised that it just wasn't possible.

Anything is possible, mistress, chuckled a swarthy voice.

Twilight stopped in the middle of the corridor almost causing a porter to crash into her.

"Sirius," Twilight snapped, drawing a few curious looks from the servants. "Where have you been?"

I was watching one of the others, the star said as if it was obvious.

"Really? One of the new arrivals?" Twilight asked, aware of her surroundings and blushing a little at the stares she was receiving.

No, I was watching Discord. Of course one of the new alicorns. Twilight could feel the star's 'eye roll'.

"Okay, so what can you tell me about him or her?"

Nothing.

"What?" Twilight's voice cracked off the stone walls making any pony unfortunate to be close wince and shrink away. Her left eye twitching, Twilight growled through clenched teeth, "What do you mean you can tell me nothing? Do you not know anything, or are you just being obstinate?"

The star laughed. From the deep rolling timbre Twilight could just imagine the star doing the equivalent of grabbing her belly while throwing back her head. If stars had bellies or heads.

I've learned a great deal about our 'guest'. Like whom she travels with and how much of a threat she is to you. I'll be nice and give a hint; kittens pose a greater danger. They are prone to causing diabetes I hear.

"You're a jerk, you know that?" Twilight muttered.

Most of the ponies in the corridor had started to give Twilight a wide berth, slipping past as close to the far wall as they could.

Mistress, I love you with all of my being, I am incapable of doing otherwise. But that doesn't mean I like or respect you, yet. I'm not like Polaris or the others, I won't just dance to your tune because you say so. You need to earn my respect. But, I won't let anything happen to you or risk you being in danger. You can infer from that what you will about the alicorn.

Sensing the star move off, and hopefully take her proper place in the night, Twilight gave a little grumble and continued on her own way. A few of the servants continued to give her odd looks before scurrying away, but Twilight was too pre-occupied thinking over what Sirius had told her.

The star didn't think the alicorn she had been watching was a threat. That was good. She also didn't respect Twilight, which explained a lot. Unsure how to deal with the star, Twilight continued through the corridors until she came to a smallish door set in the west wing. Beyond the door was one of the palace's most secure sanctuaries.

Twilight knocked politely on the white oak door, for old time's sake. Celestia, over the last few days, had tried to make it clear that Twilight was welcome in her office any time, but Twilight didn't want this little ritual to change. There had been far too many changes in too short a time for her liking, and this one thing would stay the same, always.

Slipping into the room, Twilight saw her mentor sitting behind her wide desk. The office was a thing of pure utility and little frills. Few ponies ever got to see the inside of the room, and it had been kept almost bare as a result. There were a couple bookcases against one wall, one for knick-knacks, the other for various books, a table with a tea service on a gold tray, and a few cushions for Celestia to sit on while reading reports in front of her hearth. Along one wall sat three tall windows trimmed with scarlet curtains to let in the light of the afternoon and evening sun, the office facing the west.

The office had always felt comfortable and safe to Twilight, like this was the true nature of Celestia, and the other rooms that were covered in gold leaf and tapestries just a show put on for the benefit of others.

Looking up from a stack of reports, Celestia gave Twilight a weary smile.

"Still no luck, Princess?" Twilight asked as she settled onto a soft cushion of duck feathers.

"Nothing. Not the alicorns, not that smoke-thing, just, silence," Celestia sighed as she rolled up the parchment in front of her and moved it into a tray labeled 'Furnaces'. Plucking up the next report in the mountainous stack on her desk, she asked, "What about you? How has your night been so far? I noticed that Sirius was still missing."

"Oh, she's back," Twilight grunted, unable to hide her anger towards the star. "She's been watching one of the new alicorns."

"Really?" Celestia's ears perked up, a glimmer of hope flickering in her eyes. Twilight cringed at having to crush that hope. "What did she say?"

"Not much. About all I got out of her was the alicorn travels with somepony and that Sirius doesn't consider her a threat to me."

"Well," Celestia said hiding her disappointment with centuries of practice. "That is more than we knew before, at least. It doesn't help us locate them, per se, but even the slightest information is welcome." Then, with a practiced tongue, Celestia redirected the conversation. "What about your studies? Still having difficulties with flying?"

"Um, a little."

Celestia gave Twilight a deadpan stare.

"Okay, a lot," the younger alicorn admitted, flopping down further into the cushion and her wings stretching out. As they did small aches and pains in the new flight muscles twinged. "Dash keeps saying that all it takes is practice. But the only practice I seem to be getting is falling and crashing. I don't know, I'm starting to think that maybe I just can't fly."

"Hmmm," Celestia hummed, tapping a hoof to her chin. "Have you thought that the problem might not be you, but that you and your teacher aren't suited for each other?"

"Huh, what do you mean? Dash is arguably the fastest flier alive, and has lots of experience teaching Scootaloo the basics of flying."

Celestia gave Twilight that infuriating smile that said, 'I know something that you don't, but should.'

"Twilight, describe your friends wings, and then her flying style."

"Um, okay, not sure where this is going, but fine." Twilight lifted herself up a little, settling her wings and thinking about everything she knew about flying, which wasn't a whole lot admittedly.

"Dash has the long slender wings and slight build of the Peregrine sub-race of Pegasi. Like all Peregrines, this gives her exceptional speed, especially while in a dive, and better than average agility. However, a well trained athletic Raven Pegasus can often keep up in a horizontal, or more commonly called, 'flat' race, and are far more agile. Speed, particularly their diving speed, is often a central aspect to Peregrine Pegasi that are part of one of the Legions. The most famous Peregrine Legion is the Wonderbolts, who still serve the Crown as both stunt fliers at shows and as an elite reactionary force if Equestria is threatened. Correct?"

"Correct, as always, Twilight," Celestia said expecting the mini-lecture she had received. "Now, look at your wings and tell me what you see."

Twilight knew where the conversation was going even before she turned her head to take a look at her wings. Her majestic, large wings that fanned out to her sides, the primary feathers reaching towards the walls. The best way Twilight could describe her wings was 'broad and powerful', but not slender.

"Oh," Twilight gasped as comprehension dawned. "I have Imperial Pegasi wings. They are much larger than a Peregrines and more suited to catching rising thermals and soaring. The slotted tips reduce the induced drag and wind vortexes and... I see what you're getting at, Princess."

Smiling a little at the blush touching Twilight's cheeks, Celestia said, "Perhaps your friend Fluttershy could assist? She comes from an Imperial Legion, doesn't she?"

"Does she?" Twilight asked, titling her head in genuine puzzlement. "She's hardly ever talks about her family, I really don't know."

"Mm Hmm, now, why don't you tell me why you're hiding in my study and not getting your mane primped and washed for the coronation." Celestia carefully set aside the letter in front of her, reaching for the next in the stack.

For a moment Twilight paled, then she let out a long sigh, tension flowing out of her body.

"I don't know, it just seems, urgh, everything is happening too fast. One day I'm your student and a simple country librarian. Next day, I'm a Goddess. Sure, I've had a few adventures over the years, but this, this is pretty steep on the bell curve. Now I have thousands of voices that all treat me like a long lost friend. I'm taking a crash course, often literally, in Pegasi and Earth pony magic. And to top it all off, every pony is tip-hoofing around me like they are walking on eggshells."

"But none of that is what is truly bothering you, is it?"

Twilight almost regretted going to see Celestia in that moment. Her mentor was too wise and knew Twilight too well to miss the truth.

"It... It's my friends," Twilight finally admitted, as much to herself as to Celestia. "They are all so happy for me, even Applejack and Fluttershy who are worried about how this will change things. Rarity is skipping and singing so much it'd be easy to confuse her for Pinkie. But all I can think about when I am around them is how all too soon all there will be left of them is a stone marker in a cemetery."

Celestia sighed, stepping around her desk so she could drape a wing over Twilight’s withers and pull her into a gentle hug.

"Twilight, I know I don't have to tell you this, you've already had these conversations with Spike when he'd get sad and depressed about how he'd outlive every pony, but I'll tell you what my mother told me. None of the mortal races know how long their time will be on this world. All too often they are claimed young by events outside their control; war, disease, or simple accidents are always waiting. The best we can do is cherish the time we have with them and then remember them when they pass.

"So, don't hide from them because you are afraid of tomorrow. Laugh, love, live and enjoy today. It will hurt, I won't lie. Oh, how it hurts sometimes, but they wouldn't want you to squander eternity in misery or mourning their passing. Especially while they are still around. The pain will fade and in time you'll make new friends. Just as I have done. Through it all, you'll always have Luna, Cadence and I, and probably Tyr too, now."

Twilight nodded, slowly, a tightness clutching at her heart. No tears came however, not yet at least.

"Thanks Princess," Twilight said, giving her mentor a weak but genuine smile as she started to stand. "I needed that reminder."

"I will always be here for you, Twilight, always," Celestia replied, nuzzling Twilight gently. "Now, you better start getting ready for tomorrow. It's going to be a big day."

* * *

Everything was ready.

The throne room had been decorated in plum coloured tapestries while lavender, lilies, roses, and carnations sat in bouquets next to the rows of seats, under the windows, or had their petals spread along the lush carpet leading to the dais that normally held twin thrones of the Sun and Moon. The thrones had been removed and in their place rested pedestal with a replica of the Element of Magic on top.

Ponies from across Equestria had gathered, filling the courtyards and squares of Canterlot. Most tried to get as close to the palace as they could, watching the stained glass windows of the palace's north facing side with rapt attention. News of the coronation had reached as far away as Vanhoover in the northwest and the Crystal City to the northeast. For days a steady stream of dignitaries and officials had been arriving. Unlike the commoners, they would be seated in the throne room.

The nobility began to arrive hours before the start of the ceremony, the heralds calling out the dignitaries names and their titles. They strode forward with their heads held high and in their finest clothes to take their seats. A few looked with envious eyes at the front rows of seats, those reserved for Twilight's family and friends.

Safely ensconced away from the nobles, Twilight sat in the middle of a chattering cloud of mane products, make-up, and giddy voices. Along with Rarity and Velvet, Twilight was joined by her herd-mothers; Whisper and Glitterdust. It had been years since Twilight had really seen either of her herd-mothers, since before moving to Ponyville, and it had been good catching up with the pair.

Of all Twilight’s parents, Whisper Runes had been the greatest influence on Twilight, overshadowing Glitterdust, and even Velvet to a large extent. It was Whisper that Twilight was the most alike, the two sharing the same joys of scholarly activities with little regard for the world beyond their musty old books. Whisper was forever working on a magnum-opus meant to begin perhaps a fourth Reformation. Soft spoken, but with a sharp tongue, Whisper only left the House manor to spend time with one of her wives, usually Glitterdust.

On the other end of the spectrum was Glitterdust, an outgoing youngish mare, bursting with life, energy, and an easy playful heart that reminded her so much of Pinkie. She had married into the herd shortly after Twilight’s arrival. Closer to Shining than Twilight, Glitterdust brought a flair and joy into the herd that had been lacking with Comet’s stoic indifference, Whisper’s bookishness, and Velvet’s mundanity.

As a stage designer in Manehatten, Glitterdust bonded with Rarity almost at once, the pair attacking Twilight’s mane and makeup with an unreserved fervor. Whisper sat back in a corner, watching over her horn-rimmed glasses while Velvet chatted amicably at Twilight’s side.

Twilight couldn’t recall exactly what her mother had been talking about, only that her voice was creating a pleasant and warm blanket within the room. Still, it could do little more than smooth the outer edges of the anxiety prowling through Twilight.

"You sure you're okay, darling?" Rarity asked for the tenth time. She'd been growing increasingly concerned by the twitch in the corner of Twilight's eye and how the alicorn constantly glanced towards the windows as if searching for an easy escape route.

"Y-yeah, I'm good," Twilight muttered between breaths. She'd been going through her breathing exercises for the last half hour as the moment to step into the throne room and be judged by all those waiting eyes approached. Her eye twitched again as the thought passed through her head.

The others shared concerned looks that told Twilight none were convinced, but didn't prod her further. It took Rarity only three point four seconds before her eyes were shimmering with delight as an excited giggle made her mane bounce.

"This is so exciting. To think, in a few minutes you'll be a crowned Princess of Equestria."

Like Rarity, Glitterdust's face broke into a pronounced smile as she joined in the giggling and again fussed with Twilight's mane.

"I’ve wondered about this day since you showed up in that little basket,” Whisper commented, adjusting her glasses before giving a nervous laugh. “Vel’s always been so overprotective of you, as well. You should have seen the look on her face when we received news of Nightmare Moons’ defeat, the return of Princess Luna, and your role in events.”

“I made a binding promise,” Velvet said with a roll of her eyes, “one I intended to keep.”

“Only because you’ve been enchanted,” Whisper snorted derisively.

There was no response to the comment, Velvet clamping her mouth shut while Twilight just stared straight ahead into the mirror. Focusing on her reflection kept her mind away from over-analyzing her mother’s geas.

Her make-up was both plain and stylish, a prime example of less being more, making her eyes seem brighter. The way her mane curled around her head and neck almost made her features seem longer. Squinting a little, Twilight realized that they were longer. Luna and Celestia had both said Twilight would grow a bit and change to fit her new role, but she hadn't thought it would happen so fast. Turning her head to examine the sharp angular lines of her face, lines that echoed the other princesses, Twilight admitted she looked beautiful.

"Your brother was always so curious where you came from those first few years. And don’t get me started on the rest of the House,” Velvet said in a voice of mock scandal. “I thought for sure somepony would figure it out that you were adopted, or fostered, or whatever you want to call it. And when Celestia showed up on our doorstep with the royal guard in tow, well, I almost fainted on the spot."

“No, you didn’t.” Whisper smirked behind her glasses, saying, “You almost attacked her with the fire-poker when she picked Twilight up and cradled her.”

“Wish I could have seen that,” Glitterdust hummed while pinning Twilight’s mane behind an ear.

"That must have been terrible, having such a secret and not being able to share it," Rarity's voice held a bit of scandalized sympathy. "I don't know if I could have managed it."

"It wasn't so bad, actually. Because..."

"Because of the geas," Twilight finished when her mother's voice drifted off. "I'm going to find a way to remove it, mother."

"Oh, no need to worry. I've grown used to the... it." Velvet shook her head before reaching into a drawer with her magic and pulling out a small box.

“This,” Velvet began as she opened the box, “was with you in the basket. It belongs to you.”

Within the box sat a simple platinum chain and locket. There was little to catch the eye. A few swirling motifs around a strange symbol Twilight didn’t recognise. What the eye could not see but Twilight could feel were the spells and enchantments weaved deep into the metal. Twilight could discern three different protective wards along with a few she couldn’t recognise.

“Uh, thank you, mother,” Twilight said as the locket was lifted and placed around her neck.

Twilight was uncertain if she really wanted to wear the necklace, but relented realising it could be the entirety of her birth mother's presence.

A few moments later a knock on the door and a voice calling through the wood announced that the last of the nobility and dignitaries had been seated. Taking a long breath, Twilight stood with absolute care not to damage the dress Rarity had crafted.

It was one of the most gorgeous gowns Twilight had ever seen. Tiny diamonds, one for every star in the night, had been sewn into the hems and down the train. The fabric itself was dyed a midnight blue much like her gala gown so that it almost seemed to be an extension of Twilight's mane. Shoes of matching platinum adorned her hooves. To finish the ensemble, her mane had been primped and styled so it fell in bouncing ringlets and curls about her face and down her left side, the magical stars that had appeared when she'd Awakened shining brighter than ever.

Together they walked to the throne room's entrance, and there Rarity and Twilight’s mothers gave her a quick nuzzle before slipping through the doors to take their seats.

Alone, Twilight waited.

After only a minute she heard the Canterlot Royal Choir begin 'Sure on this Shining Night'.

Taking her cue, Twilight walked through the doors and towards where Equestria's Princesses stood. On either side sat the nobility and dignitaries, a sea of peering and curious eyes. For most this was their first time seeing the young alicorn. Focusing straight ahead, and not tripping on her dress, Twilight studiously ignored the looks of awe or curiosity given by the crowd. As she passed the final row, she looked to her left and right taking reassurance in the smiling faces of her friends and family.

All of whom were smiling.

The entirety of House Sparkle was present, from great uncle Pumice Sparkle to all of Twilight’s aunts, uncles and cousins. Even with the branch members, they weren’t many in numbers, barely over a couple dozen. House Sparkle was a small House, but a proud, happy, and inordinately powerful one with its connections to the Royal House.

Once more the House’s heir, Lady Sateen Sparkle and her only foal, Tartan Sparkle sat beside Twilight’s immediate family. Twilight knew very little of either, only that her aunt Sateen was a small, frail mare while her daughter was brooding and perpetually angry. When Twilight had spent time with her cousin, Tartan had picked on her fiercely. Not to the point of cruelty, but a constant, oppressive wave of envy and dislike. Tartan had been jealous of her, Twilight realised in later years, with a mother that was strong and didn’t dote or smother her. Today Tartan was all smiles, holding her mother’s hoof in her own, and mouthing encouragement as Twilight passed the isle.

Tyr sat between Velvet and Glitterdust with a combination of confusion and sullen misery on her young face. Gone were Tyr’s wings, and her coat no longer shone with magical lustre. For all the world could see she was simply an ordinary unicorn adopted by Shining and Cadence. A cover story had been crafted —something about a military school friend of Shining’s passing away suddenly— though few truly believed it. Underneath the false exterior, Twilight could still sense the truth of Tyr’s nature. It gave Twilight an inkling of how Celestia and Cadence had been so certain about her own future and past.

Behind the Sparkles were the Armours. House Armour and House Sparkle were long allies, stretching back hundreds of years. Twilight’s father was an Armour, though he didn’t care much for the name. ‘Comet Armour? What kind of a name is that! Namegiver, please give my sons and daughters much more sensible names,’ he’d often grumbled during Twilight’s younger years. It was still his official name, though no-pony ever used it. Even the other noble houses had known him as Comet Chaser for so long that they forget it wasn’t his real name.

Shining Armour stood off to one side at the head of the Unicorn honour guard, to his left and right the Pegasus and Earth honour guards at rigid attention. The unicorns, a mix of dragoons and battle-mages, all wore swords strapped to the sides. The Earth guards leaned on pikes, while the Pegasi appeared to only wear their polished armour. Shining's demeanor of stoic indifference cracked for a moment as he gave his sister a wink.

Twilight barely suppressed a little smile as she ascended the dais in slow measured steps. Atop the dais, Twilight bowed to the gathered the princesses in turn; going from Celestia to Luna before finally Cadence. Around her hundreds of ponies watched with bated breath as the princesses each bowed in return. Cadence's eyes danced with mirth as she lingered a little in her bow before she rose.

All three princesses wore gowns similar to Twilight's. None were as elaborate, but all seemed designed to showcase the Princess' aspect. Celestia's had light golden and brassy yellow tones. Luna's was a pale silver like moonlight had been turned into a shroud and draped over her. Pinks and reds swirled together in heart shaped patterns throughout Cadence's gown. The sight of one would have been enough to steal most pony's breaths. Together they left the crowd speechless.

Taking a deep breath, Twilight turned to face the crowd. Her outer expression of supposed calm almost shattered at the eyes staring up at her. She was anything but calm, all the eyes not belonging to her family and friends seemed to judge her.

The voices of the choir swelled then ended, leaving a blanket of silence in their wake.

Her gaze firmly fixed ahead, Celestia took two measured steps forward.

“Ladies and Lords, honoured guests, and friends, I here present unto you Princess Twilight. All ye who have come this day, to whom do you swear your homage and service?”

In a single voice, the gathered crowd responded, “Princess Twilight Abigail Sparkle!”

Her heart settled by the response, Twilight bowed solemnly to the crowd.

“To whom do you swear to honour and protect?”

Again the crowd said in a single voice, “Princess Twilight Abigail Sparkle!”, followed by Twilight bowing once more.

“To whom do you swear your fealty, and the fealty of your foals —born and yet-to be?”

For a final time the crowd thundered, their voices the loudest yet, “Princess Twilight Abigail Sparkle!” and for a final time, Twilight bowed in response.

Returning to stand before Twilight, Celestia asked, “Madam, is your Highness willing to take the Oath?”

Twilight had begun to answer when a sharp crack and the smell of ozone broke through the hall. Twilight winced as the powerful, ancient protective spells woven through the walls sundered. Throughout the hall ponies looked around, some whispered questioningly if the noise was part of the ceremony. They couldn't feel what Twilight and the princesses felt. All four shared worried looks then turned to face the doors.

Or what Tyr felt, apparently, as the filly began to scream.

"It's a Titan!" Tyr yelled at the top of her voice, leaping from the bench to run up the dais and dive beneath Cadence.

Twilight barely had time to wonder what a 'Titan' was before the great doors were thrown open. Into the room stepped a figure wrapped in a green travel cloak. Soft white fur trimmed the cloak, and golden shod hooves clicked in the sudden silence that had fallen over the hall like a death-shroud. Though the cloak was drawn up so it covered her features, it did little to hide her nature from the crowd. Through slits in the cloak's side sat a pair of snow white wings and a long slender horn thrust forth from hole in the hood. A soft murmur of confusion began to sweep the crowd.

In her ears Twilight could hear her heart hammering. Her throat clenched shut and a few simple words echoed through her head, 'Is this my mother?'

The scent of rainy mornings and pine needles wafted over Twilight. It was vaguely familiar, like the memory of a foalhood dream. Twilight began to take a step towards the uninvited alicorn, only to be stopped as Celestia leapt over her with a flap of her wings. Anger and heat rolled off the elder princess in waves, her shoes cracking like thunder as she landed. Shining and the other guards all set their shoulders and stances, those practiced with weapons drawing their blades. All the guards stood ready to charge to their princess' aide at a moment's notice.

"Iridia, you are not welcome here."

Iridia. A shiver ran up Twilight's back, she knew the name from pre-classical history, from before the founding of Equestria. A tyrant without compare, she had marched at the head of a black army slaughtering all that fell beneath her gaze. Deathgiver, Black Star, She Who Shall Not Be Named, Bloodmaned; many were her titles, none of them pleasant. History recorded that it was Clover the Clever who stood before the Dread Queen and halted her advance, casting her down into the fiery pits that were Tartarus.

"Welcome or not, it was paramount that I come." The alicorn’s voice was as cold as the light of the spring moon and full of a rich rolling timbre. As she spoke she threw back her hood revealing eyes clear as a pond and a mane of honey-suckle yellow with a band of golden wheat. "This can not be permitted.”

“You would dare—”

“I dare!? It is not your place to crown my daughter,” Iridia snapped, wings flaring.

The declaration sent a shiver through Twilight. Happiness warred with confusion and doubt, leaving her thoughts in scattered disarray. Heart pounding, Twilight glanced between her birth mother and Celestia, watching as the pair glared at each other.

Taking a moment to settle her wings, Iridia continued in a gentler voice.

“I’m sorry, this is meant to be a joyous day, and I…” Swallowing what she was about to say, Iridia instead said, “I’ve done what I must.”

“What you must?” Celestia repeated the words with a harsh, almost disbelieving bite to her voice. “You always claim to ‘do what you must’, and damn the consequences or ignore who you have harmed in the process. You hide behind those words like they are a shield. If you truly cared, you would have been here sooner.”

“I arrived as quick as I could, but I am not without responsibilities of my own. If you had deigned to give me appropriate notice, this whole debacle could have been avoided. Or maybe this was all a ploy to draw out my sister. Is that it? Did you try to set a trap using my daughter?”

Eyes widening in disbelief, Celestia advanced a step. In a low voice she said, “Leave, now, and never return to my lands.”

Face contorting as if she’d been struck, Iridia nodded once, before looking up to Twilight and saying, “Daughter, come with me.”

“What? No. I... Please," Twilight looked between Celesia and Iridia, "both of you, stop."

“Agreed. Sister, please.” Luna went to Twilight’s side.

Celestia looked between her sister and Twilight, then to Iridia. With a sharp turn, Celestia said, “No, not in this. That… monster is not welcome in my presence.”

“I see I can not make you acknowledge reason,” Iridia gave her head a slow shake. “You’re as hard headed as the Halla, niece. If you are so intent on this folly, then so be it. It is a mistake, and not an insignificant one.”

Irida began to leave, only to be stopped by a pleading voice.

"Wait."

Ponies throughout the throne room started at the forlorn note in the voice, and for a moment Twilight was also confused having not intended to sound so desperate.

“Don’t go,” Twilight called. “I have so many questions. Not to mention that we can’t proceed.”

A low murmur rippled through the crowd as Celestia glanced back at Twilight, a disapproving scowl firmly in place.

“Well, we can’t, can we? I mean, not until we sort this out, right?” Twilight looked between Celestia, Luna, and her parents.

“Yes, this is something to be taken behind closed doors,” Luna said as she used a wing to guide Twilight from the dias and towards a side-door. After a few steps she stopped and, turning to address the crowd, said, “Everypony, please, though the coronation may not be happening after all, there is no reason to let the entire evening be ruined. Retire to the gala, and enjoy thyselves.”

The nobles and dignitaries muttered amongst themselves, a few doing as Luna suggested and filing slowly out of the throne room.

All of her friends made to join Twilight, but were stopped by Luna’s outstretched hoof.

“My apologies, but this is a matter for family alone,” Luna said with a hint of regret.

“Surely, we are like family, yes?” Rarity replied, her sentiment echoed by the others.

“Not in this.” Luna stared the five mares down. “Later, perhaps, Twilight will share with you what is discussed. That is her prerogative. At this moment, the best way you can be of assistance is by going to the gala and projecting an air of confidence and normality. Show Canterlot that you, the Elements of Harmony, are not concerned by these turn of events.”

It took a few minutes of further convincing to get Twilight’s friends to go to the gala. Each gave words of encouragement to Twilight before leaving. It was odd not having her friends around her, even though Twilight was far from alone or without support.

Luna lead the way through the palace to Twilight’s chambers. A haze settled on Twilight as they trotted quickly through stunned and silent halls, the guards tense, and servants bowing low as they passed. Everything felt so unreal and odd, like she were watching a play.

Her mother —her birth mother— trotted just in front of her. Twilight had wondered where she came from, what were her origins, and why she’d been placed with a foster family to be raised. Part of the final question had already been answered; but not why Twilight hadn’t even heard or seen anything of Iridia in the intervening years.

A small whisper of self-doubt had answered that it was her fault. Stupid and illogical, Twilight knew, but even among the thousands of chattering stars, that one voice had found obstinate purchase. It was like a tiny serpent hissing in her ears, telling her that if she’d been wiser, more outgoing, stronger —or one of a hundred different things— than her birth mother would have shown some interest in her, or at least let Twilight know that she thought about her.

From the short argument, Twilight had at least gleaned that Iridia had been unable, rather than unwilling, to make her presence known. Given the few facts bubbling up in her recollection, Twilight had to wonder if what had been said was truthful.

Iridia trotted with head high and firmly held forward. She didn’t try to sneak little peaks or do any of the little things that would show interest in Twilight. Every few strides her tail would snap, but otherwise she was stoic and silent.

Resolving to withhold any judgement until after she’d talked with Iridia and heard her birth mother’s story, Twilight retreated to her stars, simply listening to them talk. Most of the conversations were about Iridia. Rukbat was sharing stories, most of a sultry nature with Brachium. Regulus spoke of the kings and queens Iridia had encountered. Mintaka and her closest sisters were making a game of predicting how the encounter would end. The hundreds of conversations merged into a single humm of noise that acted like a warm blanket upon Twilight’s thoughts.

Twilight was brought out of her reverie when they arrived at her chambers. Feeling a little more at ease, she sat down before a crackling fire, the others all finding places to sit or stand.

Celestia and Luna stood on either side of Twilight, their wings extended in a protective gesture. Her parents sat in a small cluster nearby. Glitterdust wore a worried frown while Comet's face was as unmoving and stoic as stone. Whisper seemed lost in thoughts. Velvet, however, was like a statue, her features frozen in neutrality. Cadence and Shining had taken Tyr off to try to calm the filly.

Iridia stood inspecting one of the many bookshelves that filled the room, or the various trinkets and artefacts. She had taken off her cloak and let it hang from a cloak rack that stood beside the door. As Iridia walked, Twilight peered at her mother's cutie mark. It was a single large poppy flower surrounded by a ring of lilies, each one a different colour of the rainbow.

"Okay Iridia, what do you want?" Celestia nearly spat the words, the heat that had appeared with Iridia once again rolling off the Goddess of the Sun.

"Would it be such a burden to at least attempt to be civil?” Iridia's words snapped across the room like a whip making Twilight's heart beat higher and faster. “As for what I want, I want to be part of my daughter’s life, if she wishes it."

A giddy smile pounced, unbidden, on Twilight’s face at Iridia’s words. It quickly vanished as Celestia gave a humourless laugh.

"Civil? Civil was buried beneath the meters of snow left in the Windigos' wake. Civil died during the Spring that never came. Civil lay broken and shattered amid the wreckage you left of our family! You chased mother off to who-knows-where and left me to watch over an inconsolable sister and a new country full of ponies I had to bludgeon into working together! That, all of that, I could forgive. I could leave it to the past, but I will never forgive you the desecration of Namyra's memory."

Celestia spat the words out like they were acid, her wings shuddering with barely suppressed rage. Twilight's smile fell in an instant as her mind again went back to the few mentions of Iridia in history. Hope and fear twisting in her guts, Twilight remained silent as she watched and listened to the princesses and Iridia.

"Yes, I betrayed you, and I betrayed her. I slaughtered countless innocent lives. I left foals to freeze to death clutched in their mothers arms. I took the name of Death and watched with impassive eyes while thousands starved." Iridia's tone was like ice, jagged and cold with a desperate bite. "I was the first Nightmare to walk Equestria and the Old Kingdoms, forging the path for Nightmare Moon." Hope shattered inside Twilight, a cold, pallid grip encasing her heart as she listened to her birth mother speak of killing and letting ponies die. "I betrayed my herd and everything I once stood for as I let my grief and rage consume me. Then, as the world was at its darkest, when all hope and light had been stolen, a group of heroes emerged to stop me. When you, Luna, and my beloved sister could not halt my advance it was six mortals and the Elements of Harmony that saved all pony kind. For five centuries I was a prisoner trapped in stone."

"Five centuries?" Luna asked, stepping forward but still shielding Twilight. "Your defeat was closer to two millennia ago."

Iridia slowly lowered her head, tears threatening to well in her eyes. When she spoke again, her voice was low and soft with none of the harsh bitterness of a moment before. Her words and tone gently caressed Twilight's face and heart, settling the rising tempest of emotions.

"I was and am the wellspring of all life, dear Luna. Even in that endless dreamless sleep I felt every birth and heard the prayers of every mother asking for a foal. Eventually I could see and experience the world again as a shadow, a wraith or ghost floating on the wind. You were the first ponies I tried to contact, but when I did I saw something that chilled my spirit. I saw you so sad, alone and falling to despair, so I tried to help you, to start to atone by giving you something wonderful and special. I gave you Cadence."

Iridia paused, taking a deep breath, a far off look in her eyes.

"And I watched as my gift sealed Luna's descent and she became Nightmare Moon. Helpless, I watched for twenty years as my nieces fought and then, with Cadence's help, you sealed your sister inside the moon, Celestia."

Celestia stood still as a statue next to Twilight. If not for the heat Twilight would have believed Celestia to have been turned to stone.

"It was then, when I was at my lowest, that I tried to climb into the sky and escape the world and the pain it brought, only to fall and begin to burn as I streaked back towards the earth."

"You were the 'star' that fell?"

"Well, obviously I wasn't a 'star' star, but yes, I did appear as a shooting star." Iridia moved closer to Celestia as she spoke. "And then I saw Twilight. I only caught the ending of your meeting that night, but it gave me such hope to see you and Luna laughing again, and to know the cause. But I was still just a shadow flitting across the world. Until The Sorceress freed me."

At this, Iridia turned to face Velvet. Twilight’s mother had remained silent and stoic the entire time, her gaze fixed firmly ahead as Iridia and Celestia argued.

“I’m sorry, my friend, for what I made you endure.”

"Endure? While I admit Twilight had her moments, keeping her safe and raising her was a pleasure. Besides, for what I did to release you from your prison..." Velvet’s voice trailed off, her eyes growing wide as saucers. "I talked about it? I can talk about it! The Geas is gone." Velvet then turned to Twilight, a smile blossoming across her face and making her eyes shine. "Oh, the stories I can tell you now."

"They'll need to wait, mother," Twilight replied, giving Velvet a weak smile in return before she returned her face to a more neutral expression and continued to regard her birth mother. "What I want to know, more than anything, is why? Why did you never try to contact me until now. I’ve been told a fair bit about fostering and why it is done, but I want to hear it from your own mouth."

Iridia sat down, the pensive tug at the corner of her eyes showing old wounds being re-opened.

"I fostered you with the one mare in the entirety of the world that I knew I could trust. You couldn't remain with me. I learned from that mistake. Even if I wanted you to stay, the Eagles wouldn't have allowed it. Even after thirty years they are still in a tizzy that I was released. If they had learned I'd foaled, and after what happened before..." Iridia shuddered. Beside her, Twilight could feel Celestia and Luna soften, their wings gently closing as both princesses sat down. "They are probably calling a War Council right now, or will as soon as they realise I left a simulacrum behind in the castle. So, I can't exactly stay long like I want. Then there was Celestia to consider. I'm glad you managed to refrain from trying to hurl me from your palace, by the way."

"Don't tempt me." Twilight could hear Celestia's teeth grinding.

Giving a weary sigh, Iridia continued. "So, I had to protect you from my past, my present, and yes, even from Celestia."

"I never would have harmed or let harm come to Twilight," Celestia snorted dismissively.

"How was I to know that? I was surrounded by enemies of my own creation. I had to take every possible precaution to protect my daughter. Including not seeing her until her Awakening." Iridia weakly shook her head.

"Okay," Twilight said, strangely at peace with everything she'd heard. The stuff about Iridia nearly destroying all of pony-kind was troubling, yes, but no more so than Nightmare Moon's attempt to bring eternal night. That would have also resulted in the death of almost every pony. "I have one final question. Where do we go from here?"

The question hung in the air like a hangmare’s noose. There was a long silence, one no one seemed to want to fill. When the answer did come, it came from an unlikely source.

“Twilight is the Princess of the Taiga, right?” Glitterdust asked, looking around the room.

“She is indeed,” Iridia confirmed, a hint of pride in her voice. “Though the numbers who know of her ties to me are few, it was impossible to keep her birth a complete secret. Twilight is the rightful heir of the Taiga, and has already been crowned such. I see she even wears the necklace.”

Blinking a few times, Twilight glanced down at the necklace that hung around her neck. Her attention was brought back to her herd-mother as Glitterdust said, “No, what I meant was, in the Manehatten plays, isn’t she supposed to run off to reclaim her throne?”

“That is a terrible idea, love,” Velvet snorted, rolling her eyes. “Trust me.”

“So, what then?”

“What then indeed,” Luna said. She cast a last look at Iridia before saying to Twilight, “The best I can offer is to continue your education and offer you a place at the Nightcourt. Unless you object to that as well.”

The last was said to Iridia, who said around an exasperated frown, "Last I checked, the stars belonged among the night."

Looking between all of her mothers, Twilight gave a slow nod of consent.

* * *

The blue alicorn filly danced and ran between Gilda's legs, a constant stream of laughter and giggles trailing in her wake.

"What about Blue Skies?" Blinka asked, her voice tight and strained as she leaned against her cousin for support. "Is your name Blue Skies?"

"Nuh uh," the filly called back as she dove after a butterfly flitting from flower to flower. "Not ma name too."

"You do have a name, don't you?" Gilda barked. She'd grown tired after days of treading across the dusty Zebrican plains. Ever since the filly had woken up it had been a constant guessing game about her name. Everything from Sunny Skies to Dew Drops and Buck Finley had been tossed at the filly, and each time the response was the same.

"Nope!" the blue terror responded as she started to chase a meerkat and warthog that had been silently watching the trio pass. After a few moments she turned around, and with her head held proudly in the air cantered back to the two griffons. "No name. Mamma said I have no name."

"What kind of a mother doesn't name her foal? I thought all ponies went to those Temple of Names for some sort of ceremony thing to learn their foals names." Gilda stared down at the filly as she began to skip and run on the spot.

"I dun know why. Just no name."

"Well, that can't fly," Blinka said giving a little laugh that turned into a hacking cough.

Gilda winced at the wet sound and the slight red spackle on her cousin's beak. Blinka had been slowly but steadily getting weaker. The crash had to have caused some internal wounds, but the younger griffon was too proud or stupid to tell Gilda what. Every time Gilda asked the answer was the same, that she was to flap off and mind her own health or watch the filly. From where the two griffons touched Gilda could feel her cousin shivering, despite the oppressive sun beating down on them.

"Let's rest here for a bit," Gilda muttered, helping Blinka to lay down in the shade of a Mopane tree.

Far off in the distance a hazy rise could be seen, the first indication from the ground of Mount Kiligriffjaro and Southstone Spires. Gilda had flown up a couple times the previous day to sight the solitary mountain and make sure they were still heading towards it and not walking in circles. At times Gilda could swear she could see the sun glinting off the copper domed roofs.

"Come here, little one," Blinka said when she'd been settled. The young griffon could hardly hold up her head, yet she still gave the filly a wide smile. "You need a name, don't you?"

"I guess," the filly responded curling up next to Blinka.

"Well, you're going to be a warrior, right?"

"Yup! Like you and Gilly!" Jumping back up the filly began running in tight circles making 'whooshing' and roaring noises.

"Yes, like me and... and Gilly."

Gilda shot her cousin a glare at the use of the silly nickname.

"So, you need something strong... strong and fast," Blinka wheezed. "How about Zephrous?"

"Nuh uh." The filly violently shook her head.

"What about Sirius, for the star of battle?"

Snorting, Gilda teased, "May as well call her Gal—"

"Don't even finish that sentence, cousin," Blinka scowled, then returned her attention to the filly.

She sat there, calmly watching the two griffons, her head a little askance and her eyes wide with innocence.

"I got it, Talona. It means 'Avenger of the Skies' in old griffese."

The filly seemed to consider the name, then she smiled and nodded vigorously.

"Right Talona it is. I'm glad that's finally over," Gilda huffed as she laid down beside Blinka and slowly closed her eyes. Her eyes had only been closed a few minutes when something small and warm began to wriggle it's way in between the griffons. Sighing a little in frustration, Gilda made a small space for the newly named filly.

Sleep, if it came at all, didn't last long before Gilda was jerked awake by the sounds of heavy bodies landing. In an instant she was on her paws and alert, eyes darting to find threats and claws ready to end any she found. Around the tree dozens of other griffons were landing, and many more filled the sky overhead. Gilda silently cursed herself for a fool. Of course other survivors of the battle would make their way back to the aerie. She was surprised that they hadn't been overtaken by the army's remnants earlier.

Every griffon showed signs of injury and fatigue with bandages, often blood soaked, wrapped around wounds. Very few showed minor wounds, much like the scrapes and bruises Gilda had acquired. Almost none were completely unharmed.

A griffon in the gold trimmed armour of an officer landed next to the tree, making Gilda snap upright and to attention. Quickly she stepped to the side to hide Talona from view. She didn't know what the other griffons would do, precisely, but she was sure that unless she entered the aerie with Talona the glory would be stripped from her.

"Well, well, well, what have we here? A pair of deserters?"

Gilda's blood ran cold at the officers tone and words. If they were believed to be deserters, which Gilda didn't think they were, then losing the glory of discovering Talona would be the least of her worries.

"No sir, not deserters. We were making our way back to the aerie with..." Gilda's voice trailed off as she realised her mistake too late.

"With? With what, precisely? Speak."

The officer snarled, his beak pulled back in a grimace while his claws teased the ground. Knowing there was no way to avoid Talona being discovered. At the very least the filly would be found when a medic went to check on Blinka, who was still asleep. Resigned, Gilda stepped aside and gestured towards the small blue bundle of fur and feathers.

"A pegasus?" the officer sneered. "I hardly think bringing back one little meal is worthy of deserting your flock mates."

"Not a meal, you featherbrain," Gilda snapped, the fatigue and aches in her body making her already short temper razor thin. "Take a look," she added as she swept aside Talona's mane to reveal the filly's horn.

"By the first egg," the officer breathed, his eyes wide as saucers and beak falling open. "You, get the general this instant. She'll want to see this," the officer said to a nearby griffon, and then to Gilda added, "This better not be a trick to save your neck."

Gilda just smirked as they waited for the general to land.

In a flurry of dust and feathers, the large older griffon in charge of the army landed with a thud. A bandage covered half her face and a chunk of her beak was missing. Her one good eye drilled into the assembled griffons as she stalked forward, ignoring both Gilda and the officer as both tried to speak up and claim finding the filly. With a sweep of her claws the general got a good look at both Talona's horn and her wings. Clicking her tongue, the general looked towards Blinka, then called over her shoulder for a medic.

"You, soldier, where and how did you find this pony?" the general asked as a medic hurried forward with a medicine pouch to examine Blinka.

Standing at attention as she'd been trained, Gilda recited her name, number, and rank, again as she'd been trained, before explaining how the filly had been inside the fireball that had devastated both armies. The general listened impassively to the explanation, asking for clarification of a few points.

"You did good soldier. You are one of the few survivors from the vanguard, and that alone makes you worthy of praise, whether it was luck or skill that guided your wings." To the medic, the general then asked, "What of her?"

"She is slowly dying, general. We could save her, but her wing has already begun to set. She won't fly again."

"A pity," the general murmured, her voice heavy and her head hanging low. "Make her comfortable then return her to the earth."

"What?" Gilda snapped, her training breaking and her head swinging from the general to the medic, and the long ceremonial knife the medic pulled from his medicine pouch.

"No," she screamed, her voice waking Talona as she hurled herself towards the medic.

At the last moment the medic turned, Gilda's talons skipping off his beak before she bodily struck him. There was a flash of pain in her side followed by a heavy pressure entering the left side of her chest. Gasping, Gilda fell backwards crimson spraying from her beak. Turning her head slightly she saw a red pool begin to spread beneath her as well as the general's saddened look. Rolling her head back towards Blinka, Gilda called out to her cousin. She closed her eyes to avoid watching, but she couldn't avoid hearing Talona's shrieks of fear or the filly calling for Gilda and Blinka.

"General? Should we save her?" The medic asked looking towards Gilda.

"No, she raised her claws against a Brother. She will return to the earth with her cousin." To Gilda the general then added, "I am sorry, Gilda. Know that your sacrifice strengthens the aerie and the Third Empire will rise thanks to you. Go to your next life in peace and may you be reborn as a hunter and not prey."

The griffons then turned one by one and took to the sky leaving Gilda to slowly drift off into a cold inky embrace.

End of Part One: Awakening and Arrivals

Interlude One: The Shaman, the Star, and the Smoke

Myths and Birthrights

By Tundara

Interlude One: The Shaman, the Star, and the Smoke

The constant drone of rain pit-tap-tapping on his roof was Zubu's loudest companion, if a most inconsistent one. The old zebra had more, like the gentle flickering of a small fire in the center of his hut or the welcome heady buzz of the herbs in his pipe. Fire and Herb, as Zubu called them, were both more common than Rain, but not as common as Pain. Pain had been Zubu's companion the longest, as it so often liked to remind him.

At least Rain was back and, with Herb and Fire, had taken Zubu's attention away from Pain.

"I tell you Rain, it is good you are back," Zubu shouted up to his dripping ceiling, waving the pipe containing Herb a little wildly. "It has been a good fortnight since you last visited. Seen anything interesting?"

All around the zebra droplets of water fell into precisely placed buckets, pots, and urns creating an almost musical din. Nodding his head to unspoken words, Zubu muttered, "Uh huh. No. You don't say? Scandalous! So the mayors daughter was caught in the granary with some young buck? Most wonderful! Oh, halloo and hurray!"

Zubu fell backwards off his small cot, his head striking an urn and tipping it over. In a hiss of smoke the fire was extinguished as both the laughing zebra and urn rolled across the floor. Jumping up to his three hooves, Zubu swore.

"Fire! I'm sorry! Are you okay, old friend? Fire?"

Zubu leaned his right side towards the remains of the fire. Dangling at his side, his right fore-leg tried to reach towards the wet soot. The elbow, fused in a right angle, couldn't move and his mangled hoof hung limp and useless, a twisted mass of rolling black-white fur, dislocated bones and cartilage. Flipping the smothered fire with the crippled limb, Zubu shook his head sadly.

"Don't worry, Fire, I know how to breath you new life. Mm Hmm, I do indeed. Yes, I do."

Limping over to one of the many shelves lining the soggy hut, Zubu picked up a small stick with his mouth. Aiming it using his lips, Zubu growled a few syllables. Sparks shot across the hut, landed in the sodden pit and relit the few logs in a burst of orange.

"Ah, you're back, Fire? Where'd you go? Hmm, hmm?" Zubu smiled as he put the fire-stick back in its proper place. "Such wild and crazy antics you get up to every time you leave, Fire. Not like Rain, she is far more sensible. Just listen to her soothing song, Hmm, hmm."

Zubu's eyes widened when he realised he could no longer hear the gentle pittering and pattering of rain striking leaves or his roof. In the hearth the fire shrunk and gutted. Even the fuzzy warm haze surrounding Zubu's thoughts began to clear. Wrinkling his nose, the old zebra detected a peculiar scent on the tip of the wind. It was sugary and impossibly sweet, like over-ripe honey-berry pies.

It was the scent of magic.

The last of the clouds filling his mind vanished, Zubu spinning and snatching up a long staff propped in a corner. Bones rattled and chimes sang as he leveled the staff using his mangled leg at the small door of hanging beads. Beyond the door he could see movement, a shape flitting through the thick trees and broad leaves that hid his hut.

All was silent. None of the incessant chirping of insects, nor the distant roars of the Great Apes as they battled over mates and territory, nor the song of birds drifted through the early morning gloom. The hackles along the back of Zubu's neck continued to rise. The smell was growing stronger. A quick shift of a shadow drew the zebra's gaze, his staff shifting even as he cleared his mind.

A swift crack rang through the jungle, blue light briefly breaking the stillness and the sharp tang of ozone filling the hut. Smoke trailing from the staff's head, Zubu slowly made his way out of his home, eyes darting in case he had missed, or the threat wasn't alone.

Come, Zubu, you must come...

The words drifted like gossamer through the shafts of shadow and light striking the jungle floor and entering Zubu's thoughts directly.

"Who are you? Where are you?"

Hope, Zubu... She needs you.

The old zebra snorted, resting against his staff. "Are you an apparition, here to take me at last? Spirit perhaps? Or a foal thinking to play games with Zubu the Maimed and Mighty? If it is the last, then know I have not lost my wits nor my magic out here." A bead of sweat rolled down the side of Zubu's face, his thin tongue peaking out to lick his lips.

A rustle in his vegetable garden made him turn slowly and his breath hitch in his throat.

The creature that had driven away his friends was a being of bubbling pink smoke and pure magic. His nose hairs twitched at the ambient energy given off by the thing. It looked a bit like a zebra, only taller, and with wings of fog that frothed from its back. In the forehead between where eyes should have been, sat a glimmering star.

You must follow us, Zubu, you must help us... She needs you.

Peering closer, Zubu realised just who he was speaking with, and the knowledge chilled him through the muggy jungle air. "Firestar, is that you? Why are you not sleeping with your sisters?"

This one dreams and needs my help, and we need yours. You must follow us, please. She needs you.

Looking between the comfort of his hut and the wet fetid air of the jungle, Zubu gave a long weary sigh. He was old and tired, his joints ached, his mane was almost pure white, and his right eye could barely see it was so filled with cataracts. If he left his home and followed this Star, Zubu knew he wouldn't see his home again. Adventures were for the young of body and spirit, and he was neither. Zubu gave the Smoke and Star a toothy grin.

"Lead on, I will follow as best my old bones allow."

Come, time runs short before all hope will be lost.

Through the thick boughs of the jungle, over streams glutted with water so they became dangerous torrents and slippery logs bridging chasms, the Star and Smoke lead Zubu. His pace was consistent, if slow. He knew the jungle and her ways, it was not long before the thick foliage broke and became a rolling golden plain. Far off in the distance so it was just a smudge on the horizon was one of the griffon's aeries. Hesitating, Zubu turned to his unusual companions.

"Out there, in the open?" He asked, only for the smoke and star to move ahead. "Of course, it would be near those rotten cat-birds," Zubu grunted as he followed, his staff digging into the hard dry ground.

For hours they traveled, but never with a sign of griffon or one of the many other predators that called the land home. It wasn't long before they came across a set of tracks. Zubu lifted a curious eye as he saw two sets of prints that could only belong to griffons, one whom was dragging both feet on her right side. Among them, racing back and forth in a chaotic swirl, were the tracks of a foal. At least, Zubu believed they were a foals tracks. They weren't right for a zebra foal, a little too round, and the hollow was too narrow. He had never seen tracks like them.

As he inspected the tracks, shadows began to cross the sun. Looking up, his old heart almost seized. Hundreds of griffons flew past, many giving him angry or suspicious glares. Saying a little prayer to the White Walker, hoping the griffons were unaware that he was unprotected by the Compact, Zubu sat down and waited for the flock to pass. The star and smoke had completely vanished.

When the last griffon vanished behind a small hill, Zubu let out a deep gasp of relief he'd been holding.

"Firestar? Firestar? You still here, Firestar?"

We are here. The star dryly intoned from a little ways down the path. We must hurry. Our time is almost gone.

Gulping down the fear swirling in his stomach, Zubu hustled after the swiftly moving smoke. A few minutes later, he again saw the griffons taking wing, lifting off from around a lone tree.

We are too late, the Firestar lamented, the smoke slowly and gently rolling towards the tree.

Silently, Zubu followed, taking laboured breaths and his hooves dragging as he walked. Beneath the tree he could see two griffons, both laying far too still for the time of day. Dread over what he would find filling his mouth with burning bile, Zubu carefully approached the griffons. All around were a sea of prints making it impossible to tell what precisely had happened.

A tear trickled from Zubu's eye as he inspected the first griffon. She was so young, and had been horribly battered, a wing mangled by some fight or crash. Her throat had been slit, no doubt with one of those terrible ceremonial knives. Griffons, Zubu snorted, they believed it a kindness to end the life of those they thought were cripples. Zubu looked to his own mangled leg.

He had lived his entire life with his maimed limb, and it had only made him stronger, fiercer, and more determined. Now, in the autumn of his life, Zubu wouldn't have traded it for a functioning leg.

The Griffons made no sense. Zubu tried to think over what he knew of the cat-birds as he went to inspect the second griffon. They were so fiercely loyal, and cruelty from a griffon was almost unheard of, they went out of their way to avoid making anything suffer a lingering death, and yet they were so cold. At least they were predictable. Unless they were an Exile. Zubu shuddered thinking about the wild and frightening ways Exiles from the aeries could act.

Approaching the second griffon, Zubu was surprised to see she was still alive, her chest just barely moving. A large pool of blood spread beneath her making the ground wet and sticky. Curious, Zubu bent down and saw she'd been stabbed in the chest. She also seemed to be in prime health, if a little dusty and unkempt.

The griffon's eyes shot open as Zubu moved her head to see her neck. Jumping back, he leveled his staff at the griffon despite knowing that she was no threat in her state.

"Talona, they took her," the griffon said, spitting up blood.

Confused who a 'Talona' could be, Zubu looked to the smoke for guidance, but it was gone along with the star. Snorting, Zubu turned back to the dying griffon.

"Looks like your day is lucky. I was brought here to save someone, and you get to be it."

Chapter Seven: Southstone Spire (R)

Myths and Birthrights

By Tundara

Part Two: Tremors in the East

Chapter Seven: Southstone Spire

The early evening wind kissed the general's face like a timid lover, ruffling her crest feathers as she lead the remnants of her army towards the aerie below. Southstone Spire, once a proud hub in a prouder empire had seen better days, but she was far from ruin or desolation. Sure, there were far too many paupers in the streets and alleys begging for scraps of food, and the armoury was short on everything except rust. Yet, she still glowed beneath Celestia's sun, the polished copper domes and dark basalt towers thrusting up from the flat plateau atop Kilagrifjaro. Soft white clouds clung to the sides of the mountain, hiding the city from the rolling hills and plains surrounding the solitary peak.

Bells began to ring and horns blare, announcing the army's return. Chicks ran through the wide open streets, chimes hanging from their necks and vests pinning their wings down so they couldn't sneak away from the safety of the aerie. Den mothers trailed the flocks, smiles touching their beaks as they both cajoled and corralled the fledglings. The general winked with her good eye to a group of teens that had perched atop one of the wide balconies that ringed the cities roofs. Soon they'd be able to join the army or one of the trade-halls. Positions were scarce in the trade-halls, but the general had a good feeling that the army would soon be recruiting like never before.

Not only to replenish their ranks after the staggering losses of the Rite of Possession, but to prepare for the future. The other aeries would be coming for Southstone's prize.

And they wouldn't be alone.

The general glanced to her side at the captain carrying Talona. The foal had put up a struggle, but eventually had fallen into a sullen silence. Detaching themselves from the rest of the army, the general and a small company of officers turned towards the massive central towers of the palace. The rest of the army continued towards the barracks and training squares on the north side of the aerie. They would find rest and warm food waiting for them there. The general sighed, wishing she could be with her Brothers and Sisters when the celebrations inevitably began. Despite their losses, a victory was still a victory, no matter how hollow it felt.

There was one griffon who should have been at the feast, who should have been carried through the streets as a hero. Gilda, even thinking the name brought bile and shame into the general's mouth. Why had the fledgling lunged for a Brother? The question had been stuck in the general’s mind, overpowering thoughts even of the filly. She must have known the punishment for striking out with her talons at a Brother. All griffons of the aerie learned as yearlings the penalty for using their talons against another griffon of the aerie; Death.

But Gilda hadn't been of the aerie, she'd been an exile-in-return. The general had only learned this during the flight home, but she should have suspected, she should have taken Gilda aside and explained why her cousin was being sent to the earth. Almost half of the army formed for the Rite had been exiles-in-return. No, she had just assumed that both of the griffons found beneath that tree were Aerie Born.

The general refused to make that mistake again. If she knew her king, and she knew him well, he would draw on the exiles again to fill the army’s ranks. She made a mental note to speak with her captains about better training for those born outside the aerie.

"Where are we?" Talona yawned, slipping out of the claws of the griffon that had carried her as the small group alighted upon a gilded balcony. Blinking, she turned in a small circle, "Why are we here? I want Blinky and Gilly back. Take me back to Blinky and Gilly! I don't like you not-ponies. You're mean."

Surrounded by silence and faces set like stone the filly's ears folded back as she shrunk towards a wall. Stepping slowly forward, the general reached out and laid her claw on the cringing filly's withers.

"Privates Blinka and Gilda are gone, little Talona, returned to the earth from whence all life must spring anew."

"But, they just laid down to sleep. When they wake up—"

"They won't wake up," the general said with a slow shake of her head, her voice unbending but falling soft as feather.

"I don't understand," Talona whimpered.

Pulling Talona gently into the massive tower, the general sighed, "No, I suppose you don't.”

Talona was remarkably silent as the group descended towards the throne room. Guards snapped brisk salutes as the general and her retinue passed, their eyes only wandering for a moment to the small blue form of the alicorn before briskly being set straight ahead again. Murals depicting the long and storied history of the aerie and griffons hung along the walls, each woven from the finest silk threads. Most were faded or damaged, left unpreserved or repaired over the cruel centuries. The images of a few could barely been seen, so old were they.

"What's going to happen to me now?"

"That will be up to the king," the general said as they approached the thick steel banded doors that lead to the throne chamber. The general paused, removing the bandage that covered half her face to reveal a deep gash that had torn out her eye leaving a grisly hole behind. Pus and ointments to counter infection had been applied liberally, but the sight still made the nearby griffons wince or look away. Looking down on the alicorn filly with her remaining eye, the general said, “When we step through that door, you will refer to the King as ‘His Majesty’ or ‘King Pyras’. Answer questions quickly and honestly. Otherwise stay quiet and calm.”

Turning, her talons clicking on the bare stone floors, the general told her captains to wait in the corridor, then she thrust the door open and strode forward every pound of her lean form the conquering hero. At her side, head lifted high and eyes wide and shining, Talona followed. The general’s wings fanned out, creating an umbrella over the alicorn filly. Around them, ceremonial staves thundered from the balconies of the noble prides set into the walls where they could look down on those approaching the throne. Like the nobles’ perches, the throne was set onto a high balcony where everyone had to crane their heads and look up at the King.

Flanking the throne were four massive windows of stained glass, gifts from Celestia and Equestria, depicting the aerie’s founding over five thousand years ago. It was a beautiful scene, with golden and silver griffons alighting upon the flat top of the ancient volcano. In a corner of one window stood a white figure that was barely recognizable as a pony. Some of the nobles believed it was supposed to be Celestia herself and a statement of pony superiority over their long-time enemies. The idea was preposterous, ponies didn’t do such things, and besides, the mane was the wrong colour. It was a ruddy rust red, rather than the dancing aurora that graced the Goddess of the Sun.

Taking her eyes from the windows, and studiously ignoring the whispers of the nobility above and to her sides, the general strode forward, chest puffed out with pride.

As was befitting, the king’s throne was simple, a large ‘U’ shaped stone bowl held on two legs almost like a bench. No carvings or adornment marred the stone. It was a statement of plain honest strength, not one of pretentiousness or false grace. There wasn’t even a rug or cushion, just the small grooves and hollows worn into the surface by countless kings.

King Pyras rose slowly, claws gripping the sides of his throne. Perched on his brow was a golden laurel wreath, taken from a lost civilization from beyond the northern sea, and the one ostentatious sign permitted. On the kings broad chest was a simple hauberk of steel, and at his side was his sword. Long lean muscled stretched and rolled as the king jumped to the floor and strode forward with strength and purpose in each step.

“General Hydros, the Rite of Possession was a week ago, where in the blazes have you and yours been?” The king’s voice was sharp as flint and his eye hard as the foundations of the aerie. Then his hardened facade broke and he grabbed the general by the head and placed his own near her so their brows touched. “You had me worried, sister,” he whispered in private before he broke the embrace and stepped back. “Report, tell your King and his court, were you victorious or is it in defeat you return?”

Here they were, the words the general had longed to speak since she was a chick and inducted, as all the non-heirs of the royal bloodline were, into the army. Holding her head higher, if it was possible, she took in a deep breath, and in a booming voice, said, “My king, we are victorious. The plains of your forefathers and foremothers once more belong to Southstone Spire. None remain to contest your rightful claim. They are yours to hunt and manage as you please.”

King Pyras broke into a hearty laugh, his sides shaking as he let out his mirth and returned to his throne with a few flaps of his magnificent wings.

“Tell me everything. Spare not a detail. I want to hear all about the battle and what caused your delay.” The king took a sip of wine from a table at the side of his throne.

“The battle was glorious and decisive, though cut short. As was agreed, we met Bloodrock in honourable combat, and as they defended their claim to your lands, had brought the larger force. All was not going well, and though we fought with ferocity and bravery, valour ever in our hearts, we were slowly being pushed back. The Bloodrock’s numbers were too great.

"And then, in a great ball of fire, she descended from the sky and smote the Bloodrocks and all those who were beginning to lose hope.” With a flourish, general Hydros pulled her wings to her side revealing the small, blue alicorn filly.

Silence, a moment of it so pure the bards watching from one corner of the chamber would create poems in praise of its beauty and power, hung in the air for but a second before a great clamour erupted from the nobles.

“You bring a pony into these chambers?” screeched minister Talrok of the Shigrifka Pride, the other noble’s stamping their staves in agreement, “And not just a pony, but one of their younglings at that? What madness has possessed you, General Hydros?”

On his throne, the king remained silent and unmoving, his golden eyes never wavering from his younger sister. At last he held up a talon and silence again descended on the chamber, one tense and heavy with anticipation.

“General, this is most inappropriate. Explain the meaning of bringing prey before me.”

Beside her, the general could feel Talona begin to quake. Touching the small pony with the tip of her wing, Hydros gave her a brief grin, and then stepped forward alone.

“My meaning should be plain, your majesty,” she said as she turned and gestured to Talona. “If it pleases you, I would have the High Council of Magistrates tell you what they see.”

Most saw the invitation as the trap it was, but a few of the younger magistrates still spoke up.

“It is a Pegasus. The pony’s wings are clear and plain,” snorted the magistrate from the Phillagrif Pride.

“You are blind, she is a unicorn. It is as clear as the horn upon her brow,” retorted the magistrate from Hippogrif Pride. They had been long known to consort, and in ancient times, even take ponies as mates. The half-breeds produced by such unions still carried the pride’s name, though almost all had been born to exiles for the last dozen generations. The Hippogrif magistrate’s snide voice brought many of the other nobles onto his side, swayed by his supposed expertise.

“You are both wrong, and both right. She does indeed have wings and a horn,” Hydros smirked as both of the nobles who had been called on their mistake glowered. “My King, I present Talona, the avenger of the skies, she who returned your hunting grounds, and an Alicorn.”

There was no moment of silence, no hesitation, just the furious screeching of the nobles as they attempted to scoff at the general’s declaration. King Pyras sat through it all, the calls for the general’s expulsion and exile, the denials, and even the callous laughter. He sat through it all, his mind buzzing with hope. Standing, the king again quieted the chamber.

“An Alicorn you say?” King Pyras said, his words slow and considered. “No Alicorn has graced Kiligrifjaro since Fate herself led us to this peak in the time before time, when the mountains themselves were young and the First Empire ruled all beneath its gaze.” Leaping from his balcony, the King passed Hydros to stand above the visibly shaking filly. Her eyes darted from griffon to griffon watching from their balconies as the King addressed her. “Tell me, in your own voice, what is your name?”

Hesitating, and eyes seeking permission from Hydros, Talona said in a trembling voice, “Blinky gave me the name Talona. I liked Blinky.”

“Blinky?” the King turned his attention to the general, though his eyes never wavered from their piercing gaze on the filly.

“Private Blinka, exile-in-return, your majesty. She and her cousin were the first to find Talona. Blinka was returned to the earth.”

“I see,” the simple statement made the general’s back shiver. It was a statement that said that a full accounting of events would happen in due time. “Now, little one, tell me, who are you?”

“I’m Talona?” the filly said, confusion clear in her voice as she looked from griffon to griffon.

“Not your name, but who you are, little one,” the king said pacing around Talona to inspect her from every angle. “What is your place in this world? I am Pyras of the Grifagon Pride, King and sovereign of Southstone Spire and all the lands that fall beneath her gaze.”

Talona hesitated, her mouth opening and closing a few times as her young innocent mind attempted to comprehend the king’s question. Then she brightened, the sun seeming to shine across her fur and making it glow. “Oh, I know this one!” She began to dance about, singing the words over and over, head swaying from side to side and little wings buzzing.

“Talona, answer the King,” Hydros said, cutting through the filly’s joy.

“Um, oh,” Talona settled down, a slightly sullen scowl on her face at her fun being interrupted. Looking up at the king, she puffed out her little chest, and in her high voice said, “I am Talona, daughter of Wisdom and Retribution.”

“Wisdom and Retribution,” Pyras chuckled, “How fitting. Very well, Talona.” Lifting his head to stare at all the magistrates while looking at none, his clear eyes taunting and cowing all who looked upon him, he continued, “I take Talona, daughter of Wisdom and Retribution into my Pride. Henceforth, she shall be known as Talona, daughter of Wisdom and Retribution, scion of the Grifagon, princess of Southstone Spire. Should any wish to challenge this claim, speak now and the Rite of Possession shall commence.”

The king hardly paused a moment before he thrust out his broad wings, a wide grin on his face. To the thunderous report of the Magistrates staves banging, he turned back to the once again confused filly. Placing a claw on the side of her face, talons lightly brushing through her mane, he whispered, “Welcome to your new home, my daughter.”

* * *

Twilight gave an exasperated sigh, her eyes flitting across different reports from members of the royal guard and the Information, Secrets, and Intelligence Specialists, or ISIS. Twilight had heard of the select group of ponies that served as spies and were Celestia’s eyes and ears throughout Equestria, and apparently beyond, but she hadn’t really believed they existed.

The reports all centered around a single focus, locating the remaining alicorns that had travelled with Tyr from where ever it was she had come from. Tyr herself had been unable to give little more than rudimentary information. She could name her home, The Citadel of Light, who her parents were, Aphrodite, the goddess of Love, and Apollo, the god of Duty. The names of her aunts, cousins, sister, and so on she refused to divulge. Twilight found this perplexing, but Celestia and Cadence both seemed certain that when she was ready, Tyr would open up more about her origins.

Twilight had hoped that there would have been a clue as to why the foal and two other missing alicorns would be sent to Equestria. Assuming they'd been sent. Celestia seemed to believe it was the case, but remained tight lipped as to why she believed it.

Being sent meant they had come from somewhere, that limited the possibilities to somewhere else on Ioka —Celestia and Luna were adamant this was not the case— or some-when else.

Twilight had a little experience with time-travel, having on her very first night as an ascended alicorn accidentally sent herself and Luna to visit Celestia a thousand years in the past. A both minor and significant event, according to Celestia. All they'd done, after-all, was just spend time sharing wine and stories. But it had given Celestia the strength to carry on until Luna's return.

Still, time-travel was a very far fetched idea, unless Cadence changed her name at some point. There was also the minor issue that Twilight had used a Wish when she and Luna had gone back in time, and that had only lasted a few hours before they were sent home. It had been a month and a half since Tyr appeared, and there was no indication she was going to vanish.

There was another possibility; Tyr was from another world.

Magical theory said it was possible that other worlds existed, there was Tartarus and Elysium after-all. Though, philosophers and the Sisterhood tended to argue whether they were separate worlds or just layers below and above the disc, respectively. Twilight had read, and re-read, the theories of other worlds, and she had to admit they seemed sound. But they'd never been proven.

Having a working theory on where the alicorns were from did nothing to help find them though. To take her mind off her family problems Twilight had offered to help Celestia go through the various stacks of reports and missives from Celestia’s intelligence network. It was exhaustive work requiring painstakingly reading hundreds of dry reports. Exactly what Twilight needed.

Beside her, nestled up in his basket and covered by a checkered blanket, lay Spike. The small dragon had insisted on staying with Twilight when she had presented the options of returning to Ponyville without her following the coronation or staying with her foster family. On the same perches used in the library sat Owlowiscious and Peewee.

At least little had changed with them, unlike almost everypony else. Spike was a little miffed about being away from Rarity, but when the fashionista and other Elements had returned to Ponyville, each promising to visit at some point soon, he’d been placated a little. The same could not be said for all of Twilight’s family.

Guilt bubbled a little in Twilight’s stomach. She’d hardly said two words to her dad since all the madness of her Awakening had begun. She tried once to visit him, but had lost her nerve and turned around before reaching Sparkle Manor. He was hurt, she could tell by the little ways his eyes crinkled, like he was crying with no tears. She just didn’t know what to say. She’d never been extremely close with her father, and now, he felt almost like a stranger. Her mother and herd-mothers had taken it more in stride. Glitterdust and Whisper even stayed in Canterlot for a few days following the coronation to help Twilight adjust while Comet and Velvet had gone to the manor with Cadence, Shining and Tyr.

But what really rankled Twilight was the one question she had failed to ask. If Iridia was her mother, then who was her father? In retrospect it seemed like the most obvious of questions, and it hadn’t been asked for hours. Twilight was unsure if it ever would have been brought up if not for Applejack.

The answer almost troubled Twilight as much as not thinking of the question herself.

Iridia just shrugged and said, “I never really bothered to learn his name, or much about him. I found the most promising physical candidate I could, bedded him, and that is that. I doubt he even knows of your existence, and if he did, well, cultural differences being as they are, he wouldn’t care much now that you’re an adult. Maybe he’d have some pride at having sired a Goddess, but beyond that?”

Twilight sat in stunned silence along with the other elements while Celestia and Luna both glowered at their aunt. It had again been Applejack who said what needed saying.

“Now, reign that in, you’re saying you ain’t got no idea who Twilight’s Pa is? Didn’t you think that would be kinda important for her to know when you were making your big escape to come barge into her life?”

Iridia looked genuinely surprised and confused, then she threw her head back letting out a long peel of deep laughter.

“Oh, I can find out in an instant just by looking at my daughter the name of her parents, and all their ancestors back to the binding of the first soul to a mortal coil. It does nothing to tell me about them, however. Okay, give me a moment.” Iridia stopped her laughing, wiping away a tear of mirth before she set her eyes on Twilight.

The stars in Twilight’s mane prickled, glowing brighter as she felt something wash over her. She wasn’t sure what it was, exactly, but it felt a bit like when Twilight and Luna touched while controlling the night. Except it was cold, oh so cold, not like mint or the slight chill of an ice-box, but like the deepest darkest night of the arctic, a frost so biting that not even the sun could bring it warmth.

Shivering, Twilight snapped, “Stop it.”

At once she felt the touch withdraw and warmth began to seep into her again. Panting a little, Twilight pressed a hoof to her chest to help still her suddenly racing heart. She felt like she’d just been attacked, but couldn’t see the attacker, or like a great eye was watching her, plotting and scheming, whispering behind her back. The sensation left her coat crawling, and she could see stars.

“Oh, my,” Fluttershy whimpered, and as Twilight blinked, she realised she was seeing stars.

Polaris, Ankaa, Phad, and Antares all hovered between their mistress and Iridia. Each glowed with a soft dangerous light that gently pulsed and roiled from the stars’ hearts. She could hear Polaris and Luna both asking if she was alright, and Iridia profusely apologizing, but it all washed together as Twilight tried to control her anxiety. Above her, Twilight sensed all the other stars had diverted their attention to the scene in the garden a short distance from the feasting and dancing of the gala.

“I’m sorry, I-I’ve not touched another Alicorn with my essence since... Since the dark times. I didn’t mean to... I didn’t know it’d be... I-I, I’ll take my leave,” Iridia turned, and before anypony could call her to stop, spread her wings and flew towards the small room Celestia had said her aunt could use.

Their postures heavy with guilt and surprise, Celestia and Luna both approached from where they had been watching while Twilight introduced her birth mother to her friends. Celestia gave the four stars a long considering look, the small points of light buzzing over to dance in front of her nose before zipping back to Twilight and circling about her like a halo.

“I’m sorry, Twilight,” Celestia cautiously began.

Twilight’s ears perked up, and she gave a weary chuckle.

“Sorry? What do you have to be sorry about? That my mom was a blood thirsty tyrant from the pre-classical era? That she cares so little for other ponies she didn’t even bother to learn my father’s name before seducing him and bearing me? Or that her touch is like being plunged into the Arctic Ocean?” Twilight gave her mentor, no, she silently corrected herself, her cousin, a cheeky sort of half-grin in an effort to lighten the mood. It could do little to lift the odd weight that she felt between her shoulders.

Trying to smile in return, Celestia said, “No, for not sending her away the moment she stepped into the throne room.”

Chewing on her lower lip, Twilight asked the real question she had wanted to ask, but had been too afraid to speak aloud, since Iridia first told her story.

“How much of what she said was the truth?” Twilight hesitated and almost retracted the question as she saw a flash of pain behind Celestia’s ancient eyes.

“It was a mix of truth and guilt. Some of what she said, while technically true, was blown a little out of proportion. That crack about her being worse than Nightmare Moon, for instance. That is only technically true because I was able to combat Luna so much easier. This was due in part because of our natures, Night versus Day, Moon against the Sun, but also because I was older, wiser, and more practiced in magic, ruling a nation, and in fighting. Luna and I were barely over a century old when Iridia fell. Her fall, it wasn’t like what happened to Luna. There was no great shift, no flashing lightening and monologues, no physical change, but then again, Iridia is an Intangible. Just a coldness as she cut her heart off from knowing joy and pleasure and gave into the desire for revenge.”

“Revenge?” Rarity covered her mouth with a hoof. “Whatever could she have wanted revenge for?”

“The murder of her first-born.”

Luna’s words cut through the garden and sent a shiver up Twilight’s spine. The stars about her twirled faster, and she felt them send comforting thoughts down to her. Twilight had suspected, but she hadn’t been positive. She knew that there had to be a reason a pony would do the things history attributed to Iridia. Or maybe, she’d just hoped that there was, that she wasn’t the daughter of a monster.

The other Elements all hugged Twilight closer.

“Murder? Who would murder another pony?” Rarity clutched Twilight harder as the words escaped her lips.

Celestia gave a slow shake of her head after shooting her sister a scathing glare.

“It is a tale I don’t care to re-tell right now. Someday, Twilight, you will learn the details, but not tonight. It is probably better to hear it from your mother, even if the story is liable to be embellished again."

Accepting Celestia’s idea, and deciding that she’d pry the truth from Iridia if she had to, Twilight, her friends, and the princesses joined the party.

It had been almost a month since that night, and Twilight still hadn’t heard the full story about her older sister. She’d tried to bring it up with Iridia, but the Queen steadfastly refused to discuss the topic further than she had the first night. In desperation, Twilight had even gone to her mom, but Velvet had admitted to only knowing the legends and oral history shared among those that had watched over Iridia’s statue form.

Twilight shivered, the scroll she’d been staring blankly at for a half hour dropping from her magic. The story had to be false. Ponies couldn’t have done the things in Velvet Sparkle’s tale. She wasn’t naive enough to fully believe the sanitized history taught in schools across Equestria. Celestia had all but admitted when Twilight was younger to toning down certain events to ease the minds of her subjects. But to imagine them capable of the events in the story chilled her marrow.

It had been very poetic, Velvet had a certain flair for telling a story, but filled with darkness and sadness. Her sister had been not murdered exactly, but torn asunder by unicorns seeking to steal her immortality. Their spell had failed and destroyed the unicorns, but Iridia couldn’t be satisfied with just their deaths, and so she plunged the world into the cold that she felt with her daughter’s death.

That part confused Twilight the most. According to Luna, Alicorns were effectively immortal. Their bodies could be destroyed, but so long as what they represented still existed, than in time they’d be able to reform, or be reborn, or something. Luna wasn’t too certain as the only Alicorn to have their physical form destroyed was Twilight’s sister. She still didn’t even know her sister’s name.

A knock on her door brought Twilight out of her thoughts. Looking over the letters in front of her she was disappointed to see she had only managed to read and a few in the few hours peace she’d had.

“Princess Twilight,” came the voice of one of the guards stationed outside Twilight’s room. “You asked us to remind you when it was time for Nightcourt.”

“Yes, yes,” Twilight sighed, gathering up the scrolls. She’d have to finish reading them in the morning before going to bed. As she stood a single word caught her eye on the next scroll in the pile. Lifting the scroll quickly Twilight scanned its contents, a troubled frown on her face followed by a slight grin. “Found one of you.”

Rolling up the scroll, she slipped out into the corridor, an excited skip in her step.

* * *

Silence broken only by the steady rhythmic tic-tock of a grandfather clock filled manor of Fancy Pants and Fleur de Lis. All was dark, the window blinds drawn shut to hide away from the gaze of the street. Only in the window of the master bedroom was silence and shadow absent.

Fleur sat at her writing desk, a house-coat wrapped around her shoulders, a pot of steaming tea beside her, and a candle gently flickering from a sconce set in the wall. In her gentle golden-yellow magic hovered a quill, the tip dipping into an open inkwell before being returned to the open pages of a journal. Most of the page was already covered in Fleur's flowing cursive writing, little loops and flourishes showing throughout the script.

Again, the dreams have come. That makes it the third time this week. They seem to be gaining frequency and strength. Fancy had to shake me awake this time, and when he did he claims my eyes were glowing white with a building magical charge.

My dear, beloved Fancy believes it is time I bring my problems to the Princesses. One must have some idea of what is happening to me. But it feels so foalish and silly. All the other races dream, why must it be a worry that I too dream? But he is right. These are more than just dreams. We are Unicorn, and unicorns dream but once a year. I have had dozens now, the pages of this journal filled with the adventures and terrors I have seen.

Tonight I was again in the Citadel of Light. I stood in the Chamber of Thrones, as I've taken to calling it. One of the thrones was missing this time, so I believe this dream was further back than normal. Celestia's look alike, Hemera sat upon her throne, the golden sash hiding her missing eyes present, and though she was blind I knew she was staring at me. She knew I had stolen her crown and I was ready to face my punishment. I seemed almost relieved, actually. I suppose my counter-part has no taste for lying to and manipulating her Aunt after-all.

My counter-part. Odd to think of her that way, when I see with her eyes and speak with her tongue. It is as if I am her, in the dreams.

Fancy seems to think that these aren't just mere dreams. I have begun to agree.

The elements are too common between the dreams, even though they are jumbled and out of order. One night I will be a filly running through fields beneath the gaze of a pony looking remarkably similar to Princess Cadence, or clutching a stallion's neck as he flies over lush fields and pleasant simple villages. Other nights are filled with such terrible things. So much blood and suffering. And though I know the fault is mine, I don't know what I have done to cause so much despair and misery.

Tonight held a small clue, perhaps.

Hemera forbade me to look for some-pony named Nyx . She went on to say she was aware of the actions of my co-conspirator and I. 'The Sun sees all that happens beneath her light,' she snarled, and for a moment I thought she would strike me down. But she did not, and left soon after to return to the mountain's peak and her solitude.

Cowed, I returned to my chambers in the Citadel, and there the one known as Authea was waiting. The small alicorn, much smaller than my dream-self, seemed to glow with a bright pink light as we talked. It was like looking on the sun, only instead of being blinded and stung, the light was soft and comforting like the moon. Authea was curious why her mother had descended from her solitary vigil atop the mountain.

I lied, said it was nothing of any great significance. I believe Authea saw through my deception, but I can't be sure. Normally I am very good at reading a pony's face, and she seemed to accept my lie, but she knows things. Things she shouldn't know. Before departing, she gave me a wink, and said, 'Ne vous inquiétez pas Fleur, tout se passe bien à la fin.' Though I understood what she said easily, and the message couldn't have been but for me, my other self was confused. Authea didn't even seem to know what she said, brushing it off as a 'Hope thing' before bouncing out of the room.

That uncomfortable buzzing sensation began again while we talked and danced around my meeting with Hemera. I still have no idea what it means, if anything at all.

In a few hours I will meet with the Nightcourt. I will bring this journal, perhaps Luna or Twilight will have some idea what is happening to me. At the very least it may bring some peace to Fancy, and after what I put him through during the Celebration of Life, he deserves that much at least.

Cleaning her quill, Fleur waited for the ink to dry before closing the journal and slipping it into a saddlebag. Trotting over to her bed, she gently nuzzled Fancy as he slept, and whispered into his ear, "I'll see you in the morning, bien-aimée."

Fancy stirred a little as Fleur withdrew. He would perhaps be a little upset that she left him behind, especially with how hard he was pushing Fleur to speak to one of the princesses. But something told Fleur that this wasn't something that involved him, silly as it seemed. He tried so hard to protect and support her, and for once, Fleur both didn't want and thought it would be a bad idea to involve Fancy. She was the matron, and it was supposed to be the matron who protected the rest of the herd, even if it was a herd of two.

Slipping on a light cloak to ward off the chill of Canterlot's spring night, Fleur stepped out onto the street, softly closing and locking the manor behind her.

Few ponies were in the streets of Canterlot so late in the evening. A few drunken young mares and stallions staggered their way home from the nightclubs. The occasional pair of royal guards strode past, eyes fixed ahead but taking in everything around them. Near one of the terrace edges of the city that hung over the Equis Valley so far below sat a group of stargazers.

Fleur paused in her walk, checking a nearby clock-tower to see she still had several minutes to spare before her the Nightcourt opened. She then took in the beauty of the night sky created by Luna and Twilight. A thin smile managed to tug at her lips as she watched a pair of stars twirl and dance high above the Dragonsmoke Mountains beyond the town of Ponyville.

The night sky had become far more active in recent weeks, with the stars hardly sitting still for more than a few moments. Fleur couldn't help but chuckle as a couple of young lovers cooed at the stars' display while a pair of older stallions with night themed cutie marks just shook their heads and grumbled softly. Mutterings of discontent about the changes to the night had been growing.

Even the other ambassadors and embassies had voiced concerns, letters and missives from their homelands arriving asking about the sudden alterations and odd occurrences in the night. The Minoan delegation had gone so far as to proclaim the dancing stars a sign of the End Days. Most of the other ambassadors had just rolled their eyes at the Minotaurs; not a week went by where something wasn't a harbinger of the end of the world, according to them. During tea one day, the Zebrican ambassador had voiced concerns, which had surprised Fleur. She had always admired the calm level headed zebra, the shock of seeing him slam his tea down and exclaim that Twilight had no right re-arranging the stars had left her almost speechless. After a few seconds she had managed to stutter out a few words to the effect that Twilight was the Goddess of the Stars, and it was up to her what the stars did or did not do.

Fleur had quickly excused herself and returned to her home before the zebra could respond, her thoughts spinning and unsettled.

Not everypony was concerned or upset with the changes. Like the young lovers on the terrace, there were many who loved the displays. Painters, musicians, and poets in particular flocked to the stars antics, immortalizing the spectacle in their art.

Fancy Pants was more interested in the stars than Fleur, as a rule of hoof, and had been delighted when the stars had begun their dancing. He had even hosted a few mid-night garden parties. Fancy had tried to invite the princesses, but both had been too busy with royal matters to attend. Fancy, bless his kind nature, had offered to host another party when the princesses were available. Luna, in particular, had been grateful. Twilight had tried to demure and find an excuse to not attend, but it was hard to outright deny an invitation given in earnest good intent.

Fleur had to wonder how the new, high strung, princess was handling the complaints.

Not very well, Fleur learned when she reached the palace.

A small crowd stood outside the doors to the Nightcourt, quietly muttering to each other while a pair of Luna's Nightguards stood at attention. Through the ancient, magic hardened, oak doors Twilight's voice could be heard, the Traditional Royal Canterlot Voice being employed to its fullest power.

"The Stars are MINE to guide and protect, understand Lord Parallax? If I want them to spell out the recipe for dandelion soup, I can have them do that! The next time you try to tell me what the Stars can or cannot do I'll—"

Twilight's voice trailed off as Luna, presumably, calmed her cousin. Several long minutes of absolute silence filled the corridor, the other petitioners all looking to each other with wide frightened eyes and ears pressed flat. When the door to the chamber opened and Lord Parallax slipped out, his head hanging low and tail dragging, the entire collection of ponies gulped. Behind the noble stepped Quick Quill, the chief seneschal and aide to Luna.

"If any other pony out there wants to complain about the stars and night sky, I strongly urge you to reconsider for this eve," she said, looking over her shoulder to where the princesses sat. "Princess Twilight is not in the most... temperate of dispositions tonight."

Fleur laughed, covering her mouth with a hoof as scalding glares were directed her way. In all her years in the palace, she'd never heard one of the princesses' aides come so close to telling ponies to not bring their issues to the court. The gathered ponies heeded the warning, leaving in twos and threes until only Fleur remained.

"Ambassador, odd to see you at Nightcourt," Quick Quill said when the last of the malcontents had left. "You have business with the princesses?" The question was more of sincere surprise than curiosity. Almost none of the ambassadors ever had business with the Nightcourt, even with Luna being half of the diarchy.

Despite Celestia trying to include her sister in the running of the nation, most other lands still took their issues and dealings directly to the Sun Princess. She was the princess that they had dealt with for centuries, and they were simply more comfortable maintaining the status quo. Even Fleur was guilty of taking Prance's proposals or issues to the Daycourt and Celestia rather than trying to speak to Luna.

"Oui, this is more a personal issue," Fleur blushed a little as she followed Quick Quill into the throne room.

Luna sat on her obsidian throne, a smirk beneath her twinkling eyes, leaning down to speak with Twilight. The younger princess sat on a simple velvet cushion, her head hanging low. It was hard to tell, but Fleur was sure she saw a deep blush on Twilight's cheeks. Both princesses looked over to Fleur as she entered and performed a short bow.

"Ambassador Fleur de Lis, it is a pleasure to see you at our court," Luna said in a formal tone, holding her head high. "To what pleasure do you come before the Nightcourt?"

Fleur licked her lips, and for a moment she considered lying and returning home to her thick covers and the warm embrace of her husband. It'd be so simple, and they were just dreams. It was silly to talk to the princesses of the night about dreams, wasn't it? Fleur shook herself out of her reverie, realizing she'd been standing silent for too long while the princess awaited her response.

Taking a deep breath, Fleur plunged into the truth.

"I've been having dreams ever since my time in Ponyville. They've been growing both in frequency and in... intensity. This morning my husband had to shake me awake and claimed I was on the verge of a magic surge. I... I, Ô Célestia, donnez-moi le courage, I don't know what to believe."

As Fleur spoke Luna's face grew from amused to long and grim, her eyes taking a dark cast like a moonless night.

"Dreams," Luna's voice was cold as the most bitter winter wind, "visit any unicorn but once in the year. It has been so since,” Luna’s eyes briefly darted to Twilight before returning to Fleur, “before the founding of Equestria. What you are experiencing may seem like a dream, but they cannot be one."

Fleur bowed her head a little.

“I realize that, of course, your majesty. Which is why I have brought you a diary of what I’ve experienced.”

“A Dream Journal?” Twilight asked, clapping her hooves together. “I used to keep one myself. Can I read yours?”

Removing the diary from her saddle-bags, Fleur was a little surprised when her golden aura of magic was quickly over powered by a magenta glow and the book sailed across the room to hover in front of Twilight. For several long minutes Twilight hummed to herself as she skimmed the entries, pages flipping quickly. She stayed on a few pages for some time, re-reading an entry or staring at a particular word or sentence. Fleur felt a slight blush touch her cheeks as her private thought were laid bare before two of the most important and influential ponies. At last Twilight lifted the book up and almost shoved it under Luna’s nose.

“Look here, look what it says,” Princess Twilight almost babbled, her words tumbling over their selves in her excitement.

“I don’t see... Wait. Oh my. This is interesting,” Luna said, tapping her chin as she read the page three times. “So, that is another accounted for, then,” Luna gave Fleur a wide smile, one that set the hairs on the back of the ambassador’s neck on edge.

Leaning over, Luna whispered something to her seneschal, something that made the earth pony go pale. She bowed quickly to Luna before scampering out of the hall. The diary floated back to Fleur in a blue-white aura as Twilight stood. For a few minutes the two princesses seemed to talk, though their lips never moved. They would giggle, roll their eyes, or make the facial expressions of conversation leading Fleur to suspect they were using some Alicorn magic to talk.

Eventually, the doors to the throne room sung open. It took all Fleur’s experience not to betray her surprise as Iridia strode into the hall. Her eyes were heavy with sleep, though she carried her head high and her stride was even. Drawing even with Fleur, the ancient alicorn never took her gaze off Twilight.

“You requested to see me, daughter?” Iridia asked, stifling a yawn with her wing.

“Um, yes,” Twilight said, fidgeting a little on her cushion. “I need you to look at Ambassador Fleur and tell me what you see.”

Without so much as moving her head, Iridia said, “I see a mare in her early thirties. Very pretty, in the Celestian manner, for those with an eye for such things.”

Rolling her eyes, Twilight said with a slight huff, “That’s not what I meant, mother. I need you to look at her. With your Awareness, not your eyes.”

An ever so slight smile touching her lips, Iridia winked up at her daughter. “I know, I just wanted to see if I could get a rise out of you.” Adjusting her gaze to Fleur, Iridia said, “Now, don’t worry, this won’t hurt at all.”

Fleur shifted uncomfortably, looking between the expectant princesses and Queen Iridia. Fleur tried to understand what the princess was talking about and what she meant by Awareness, but again, she suspected it was alicorn business. She couldn’t help but feel that Iridia was staring through her, rather than seeing her. Fleur’s skin began to crawl, a deep buzzing sensation filling her head. Through the candle filled chandeliers blew an ill wind making the flames dance and cast a grim mask across the Queen’s face. For a moment Fleur saw not a pony sitting before her, but a white spectre of death.

With a cry, Fleur reared, front hooves kicking the empty air as Iridia jumped back with a quick flick of her wings. From Fleur’s ears and mouth poured a thick soupy smoke whitish-pink in colour. Around her it coiled, wrapping about the unicorn like a shroud until it covered Fleur completely. Unable to think through the buzz filling her head, Fleur slumped forward inside the smoke. From her eyes flowed forth golden light, and two wings of smoke swept toward Iridia.

“Spite, I will not allow your trickery to harm this one,” Fleur snarled, her voice a resonating hiss that bubbled and popped. “Die!”

A scream, clear as crystal and sharp as shattered glass, erupted from Fleur’s throat as she launched herself toward Iridia. A lance of magic burst from Fleur’s horn, striking the Queen in the chest and knocking her back. Leaping forward, Luna and Twilight both summoned spells, Twilight encasing her mother in a protective pink shell while Luna struck Fleur down with a beam of moonlight. The smoke enshrouding Fleur hissed and spun about the unicorn, another scream rolling from her tongue. She began to turn towards Luna, curses ready to be flung at the princess, when the smoke seemed to quiver, and then retreat back into Fleur. Free of the smoke’s physical grip, Fleur stood for a moment before toppling onto her side, gasping for breath. Slowly the noise filling her head began to recede and she could think clearly again.

Through the doors to the throne room burst a squadron of guards, the darkly armoured Nightguard taking quick stock of the scene before descending towards the princesses and Fleur. Blinking her eyes clear, Fleur looked up to see a pair of Nightguards standing over her, the edge of their wings pressed beneath her throat. All it would take would be a twitch and the magic of the Nightguards would slice through her delicate skin and sinew as if it were water. Wanting to ask what had just happened, but terrified by the dark look in the pegasi’s eyes, Fleur lay absolutely still.

“Mother, are you alright?” Twilight shouted, a clear note of panic in her voice, as she rushed to the fallen queen.

“I-I am unharmed, mostly,” Iridia groaned as Twilight assisted her to her hooves. “I am too old for this sort of excitement,” she muttered as she looked at the black mark and burnt skin on the left side of her chest.

“You’re hurt,” Luna stated, the surprise and astonishment clear in her voice.

“I’ll be fine in a day or two,” Iridia shrugged. “I may not have the sturdiness of a Physical Alicorn, but I am not some flower that can be trampled upon.”

“Should we summon a medic?” queried one of the guards, a lieutenant by his armour.

“No,” Iridia said forcefully, shrugging off her daughter’s help to stand on wavering hooves. “I said I will be fine, and I meant it. She just caught me by surprise.”

“Are you sure? I mean, it might be better if—.”

“Twilight, daughter, I said I am fine, and I mean it.” The note of finality in Iridia’s voice was clear; they were all to drop the subject. “Now, I believe you wanted me to have a look at that one and tell you what I saw, yes?”

“Um, yes,” Twilight said, more than a little shocked by everything that had happened. With a word and gesture, she indicated the guards were to release Fleur.

“You’re majesties, I beg your forgiveness, I don’t know what happened, I just—.”

“Shush, calm you self, Fleur de Lis, you are not to blame.” Iridia waved a dismissive hoof. “As for what I saw; it was both Fleur de Lis and somepony by the name of—.”

A terrible shriek filled the hall, tearing itself through and from Fleur as Iridia spoke the smoke’s true name. Falling to her knees, Fleur continued the terrible noise for a moment before voiding her stomach onto the thick royal carpet. Trembling, she hardly noticed when Twilight wrapped a wing about her like she was a filly.

“What was that?” the young alicorn asked, seeking help from her mother and cousin.

“She is two souls becoming one,” Luna said. Pity filled her eyes as she looked down on Fleur. “Those are not dreams that fill her journal, but memories as you suspected, Twilight. I suspect that it’s not a complete soul, however.” Luna looked to Iridia for confirmation.

Cringing, the queen gave it reluctantly. Slowly, she sat down in front of Fleur, careful to avoid the pile of sick.

“Fleur, do you know what I am?”

Head still spinning, it took Fleur a few moments to register the question and slowly shake her head. She knew the whispers the other ambassadors had been saying. Iridia was a topic as popular as Twilight in the past weeks. She would have been even more popular if not for the displays of the stars and the queen’s penchant for avoiding most ponies other than the princesses. As the ambassador from Prance, Fleur’s knowledge had been picked by the other ambassadors for clues about the queen. There was little Fleur could tell them other than she vaguely recalled the name from the pre-classical era, from when Prance was divided into the Pegasi City States, the Unicorn Kingdom, and the Earth Pony Confederacy under the hooves of the other two races.

Iridia began to talk, but Fleur just couldn’t follow what the queen was saying. She caught a few words here or there, but not enough to make sense of what she was being told. A couple times Twilight asked for clarification about something, and Fleur tried to wrest control of her scattered thoughts to listen. It was a futile effort, and Fleur’s eyes took on a glassy sheen as she began to stare off into space as all thought ground to a resounding halt.

A pony calling her name several time slowly got the gear and cogs in Fleur’s head to begin to spin again.

“Je m'excuse, my thoughts are so hazy,” Fleur mumbled.

“You’ve been staring off into space for the last half hour,” Luna said with a worried frown. “Are you sure she is alright?” the princess of the night asked Iridia, quirking a brow.

“You were there with me when this happened last time. That Fleur hasn’t burnt into a shattered husk is amazing as it is.” Iridia didn’t quite snap, but her tone was strained and she leaned to her right with very little pressure on her left fore-leg.

“Well, I’m not sure if I like this plan, and I know Celestia will like it even less.” Luna’s wings fluttered at her sides with agitation as she spoke.

“You read her journal, and you’ve read the report from Griffonia. I think it is important that she comes.” Twilight tapped a hoof to her chin as she looked down on the prone ambassador.

“Griffonia?” Fleur asked as she struggled to her hooves. She felt so weak, like tea made with too much water. Wavering on her hooves, she waited an explanation, one she hoped she’d actually hear.

“Fleur, I’m going to be going on a bit of a journey tomorrow. As I’m sure you know the other nations have been concerned by the displays of my stars, and it would be good to have their concerns addressed. There is also a small matter of cosmological important in the Griffonia city of Southstone Spire that needs attending, and I believe you are tied to it.”

“Me?” Fleur tried to contain her surprise, but failed spectacularly as her jaw almost hit the floor.

“Your entry from two weeks ago, it spoke about a ‘dream’ in which you were giving birth to a foal,” Twilight said, her voice falling into a lecturing tone. Heat flared across Fleur’s face as she remembered that particular dream and the confusion it had caused. She’d spent hours wandering the manor looking for a foal. A foal that she eventually came to believe didn’t exist. Not noticing Fleur’s sudden discomfort, Twilight continued, “Earlier this evening we received a report from Griffonia of a foal matching the description you gave in your journal.”

Fleur felt her blood chill, her blush vanishing as all the blood drained from her face.

“You mean my daughter is real? She lives?”

The three alicorns shifted uncomfortably.

“You must have missed the explanation of what is happening to you,” Twilight sighed, her wings dragging down by a heavy weight. “She’s not your daughter. Those dreams you’re having, they are memories of a ghost or spirit or something that defies classification. There is another soul inside you, and the two of you are slowly,” Twilight tapped her hooves together, “merging, for lack of a better term. It’s something far outside accepted magical study or practice and none of us can really say what will happen to you. I mean, Necromancy and the study of Souls was outlawed by all nations during the signing of the Treaty of Magical Ethics in the year one hundred and three, Equestrian Reckoning. Before that, especially in the pre-classical era, attempts were seen as taboo and done by only the most amoral magic users. Books on the subject were destroyed by authorities on discovery. I doubt there is even anything in the forbidden archives of the Royal Library."

Taking a moment to let what she'd said sink in, Twilight added, "Using the Elements of Harmony is a possibility... but it's impossible to tell what they will do to restore the harmony within you. They could remove this other entity or... forcefully merge you."

Luna quickly agreed with Twilight while Fleur sat in quiet shock. Sure, she had begun to suspect they were memories and not dreams, she’d written as much in her diary. But it seemed too fanciful to really be the truth. She had come to the Nightcourt expecting to be told that what she was experiencing had been seen before. There might have been a few spells involved, but the princesses would sort it out and Fleur would be able to return to her normal life.

To hear that the princesses had only a theory of what was happening with no way to actually help pressed down on Fleur like a terrible weight. Carefully, Fleur pulled out the diary, flipping it open to skim various entries. Like fireflies, her eyes darted across the pages, a few words enough to bring back the memory-dreams in their entirety. She stopped on the pages that detailed the birth of the nameless foal. Silent tears crept into the corners of her eyes as she relived a memory that was not her own, and one she dearly wished was.

Lifting her head, Fleur asked, “You’re sure that the filly in Griffonia is the one from my diary?”

“I can’t say it is for certain, but, yes, I am almost positive.”

Snapping the book shut, Fleur looked at the three alicorns one by one, searching for something that would dissuade her from what she was about to say. Nothing presented itself, and saying a silent prayer for Fancy Pants to forgive her, she said, “When do we leave?”

Chapter Eight: Journey's Start

Myths and Birthrights

By Tundara

Part Two: Tremors in the East

Chapter Eight: Journey’s Start

It was with some reservation that Fleur stepped into Carousel Boutique. Ahead of her, Princess Twilight moved with old familiarity while a pair of Pegasi guards from the Royal Legion quickly positioned themselves to flank the door into the shop. A few unicorn battle-mages stood a short distance away attempting to look inconspicuous, eyes scanning the town square for any threat to the princess. The large white unicorns looked about as inconspicuous as a dragon in a tie-dyed cape. Fleur had to contain a sigh at the pointlessness of the guards. Anything capable of harming an Alicorn would make short work of the pegasi and battle-mages.

But Celestia and Luna had both insisted Twilight bring a detail with her, and when Shining and Cadence joined the argument against her, Twilight relented.

Through the store’s showroom and into the kitchen the princess and the ambassador walked. Fleur was greeted by light chatter and the smell of freshly baked scones mixing with chamomile tea as she stepped into the familiar room. Around the wide table sat the Elements of Harmony. Rainbow Dash looked to be almost half asleep, while Pinkie Pie was bouncing her chair up and down, her face split by the biggest grin and her mane practically shooting sparks it was so frizzy.

“Okay, Twi, why don’t you tell us what that letter this morning was all about?” Applejack said from where she leaned her chair beneath one of the room’s windows, her hat slanted over her face to shade her eyes from the morning sun.

Twilight’s excitement was palpable as she slid into a chair. “We found one of the two missing Alicorns.”

From the way all the ponies were sitting it was evident that they had conducted similar meetings over the years. Fleur felt a little out of place among the group of heroines. Even Fluttershy seemed more at ease than Fleur felt, the butter-yellow Pegasus gently blowing on her tea as she sat beside Rarity and Rainbow Dash.

“Well, that’s good, ah suppose.” Applejack gave a sly smile to Dash before adding, “So, is she claiming to be your first cousin once removed or something?”

“Naw, AJ, probably thinks Twi’s her mom,” Dash scoffed, sending both mares into a fit of laughter.

“No, she is mine,” Fleur snapped before she could catch her tongue. Her eyes went wide at the deep flare of anger and protective urge to defend a filly she’d never met. Blushing heavily under the looks sent her way, Fleur made to excuse herself from the room.

“Darling, um, I was under the impression you,” Rarity darted a quick look around her friends, and then in a soft voice continued, “couldn’t have foals.”

Fleur froze as if she’d just turned a corner and bumped noses with a Timberwolf. Her mouth opened and closed a couple times, but no words passed her lips. Rarity’s eyes quickly doubled in size, the fashionista covering her own mouth as she gasped like a meadowlark being strangled.

“Oh, Fleur, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean, I just... Please, forgive me?”

“N-no, it’s alright. The truth should always be alright, even if it sometimes hurts.”

Clearing her throat, Twilight asked Fleur to stay and take a seat. The ambassador sat silently onto a stool near a corner where she’d be out of the way, and hopefully less likely to further embarrass herself.

“Um, It’s kind of both, actually,” Twilight began, tapping her hooves together as she explained about Fleur, the other soul inside her, and how her dreams were in fact memories surfacing. Rarity tensed a little at the mention of dreams and souls, hiding her expression behind her tea cup.

Fleur vaguely recalled Rarity mentioning having more than one dream. In all the confusion and events surrounding Twilight’s Awakening and coronation, the two hadn’t had an opportunity to speak more about the issue. As her own dreams began to consume her mind, Fleur had forgotten entirely about Rarity having the same issue.

Resolving to speak with Rarity before leaving Ponyville, Fleur kept silent.

“So, Puff the Smokey Alicorn is hiding inside Fleur?” Pinkie tapped a hoof to her chin.

“It’s doubtful it is ‘Puff’, Pinkie,” Twilight shook her head. “The smoke that came out of Fleur to protect her didn’t look or feel like Puff.”

“There are more of them smoke-things?” Applejack gave a little shudder.

“Um, Fleur isn’t in any danger, is she?” Fluttershy whispered in the brief silence as Twilight considered Applejack’s question.

“Almost certainly there are more, and... we honestly have no idea if Fleur will be alright or not, Fluttershy.” Twilight gave Fleur an apologetic look. “We’re dealing with forbidden magic that hasn’t been seen since before the founding of Equestria. No pony can say what’ll happen to Fleur. Our best hope is that by retrieving the filly it’ll satisfy the other soul inside Fleur and it’ll leave her of its own accord. Otherwise?” Twilight just shrugged and looked morosely into her tea. “But that is why I’m here, in part. I’m going on a journey to retrieve the filly, as well as deal with all the complaints about how I’m letting the stars dance. We’ll be going by train to Baltimare, and from there going by ship to Zebrica and Griffonia. After we collect the alicorn filly, we’ll take a round-a-bout route home, going via Camelon, Germaneigh, Prance, and finally Trotugal before taking passage back home. Should take about four months before we’re home, most of that because of the time crossing the Equis Ocean. It’d be less if I didn’t have to answer all the concerns about me and the stars. The dancing wasn’t even my idea, it was Arrakis’, I just said it was okay if she wanted to dance, and then the others began to join her. Now over half the stars are dancing, and to be honest, I rather enjoy it myself. It makes them so happy after countless years of them just making the same slow movements across the night sky.”

Twilight continued to stare into her tea after her short rant. Ears flicking to her silent friends, Twilight looked up, and with an obviously forced smile, asked, “So, who wants to join me?”

“I’d love to, Twi, but the farm and my family need me. I can’t be gone for months on end.”

“As much as visiting Prance and Germaneigh would be delightful, such a long journey is out of the question, I’m sorry. More so since my mother will be returning from one of her business trips next week. Father has taken my aunts to meet her and I have to take care of Sweetie until they return.”

“Oh, no, I just can’t leave my little animal friends. And Griffonia is so very far away from here, and so very close to the Dragon Desert and all the dragons that live there, I just, no.”

“Sure! My best foalhood friend was a griffon. Gilda told me all about the griffon code of honour and how they have all these cool flank kicking rituals and trials for things.”

Applejack, Rarity, Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash all spoke at the same time, each shaking their heads sadly, or grinning broadly in Dash’s case. Fleur saw Twilight almost deflate a little when three of her best friends so quickly said they couldn’t join her.

"Oh, oh! Pick me, pick me! I want to go, pick me!"

Sighing ever so slightly, Twilight turned to Pinkie, "Pinkie, I was asking if you wanted to come."

“Yeah, but it is more fun to be picked to come. So, can I come? Please?” Pinkie dragged out the final word, her eyes growing somehow larger as she clasped her hooves in front of her.

Barely stopping a face-hoof in time, Twilight groaned, “Pinkie, I pick you.”

“Well, I don’t know. I’m rather busy foal-sitting the twins, and now that the Season is over, ponies start having all their ‘Yay! A New Foal Is On The Way!’ parties.”

Twilight’s eye twitched as she stared incredulously at her friend.

"Heh, heh, you should see the look on your face Twi. Of course I’m going to come. That makes four, the perfect party size for a group of swarthy adventuring types." Pinkie was practically vibrating around the room, her widest most Pinkiest smile on her face.

"Pardon?" Applejack tilted her head to one side, and Fleur found her own expression matching the farmer’s.

"Yeah, Dashie is a monk with her speed and karate. Fleur must be a bard with her knowledge of history and nations and stuff, and she’s a unicorn, so she must have magic. Twi is a cleric... or wizard. Ooo, a cleric/wizard! And that means I get to be the fighter? Hmm, I'm going to have to respec." Pinkie plunked down onto her rump, rubbing her chin with a hoof, tongue hanging from the corner of her mouth in what Ponyvillians knew as the 'Thinking Pinkie'.

"I-I am terribly confused what your friend is going on about, Princess," Fleur said, slowly looking between an exasperated Twilight and the energetic Lady Pie.

"Don't worry about her none, sugarcube, she's talking about some game we play over the winter. Pinkie Pie is just being Pinkie Pie. You get used to her hardly making a lick of sense." Applejack laughed as she and the others stood.

“Well, I guess that’s settled then. I wish you three were coming as well. It’ll be weird going on an adventure without all of you. Dash, Pinkie, we’ll be taking the morning train, so you better get packing. And, I’m going to assume there will be a farewell party.” Pinkie vigorously nodded her head. “I guess we’ll all see each other there. I’m going to stop off at the library and see how the new librarian is settling in.”

“Here, let me help, mon amie,” Fleur called to Rarity, lifting up a few of the empty saucers and cups with her magic. Left alone as all the others went off to do what they needed to accomplish, the two shared pleasant empty banter, not really saying anything other than enjoying the company while cleaning the room. Fleur was mildly surprised to see that confetti and candy sprinkles had fallen beneath half of the table. Sweeping the brightly coloured bits up, she finally asked, “Rarity, why didn’t you tell the princess that you’ve also been having dreams?”

Rarity stiffened in front of the sink. Slowly turning to face Fleur, and brandishing a spoon like it was a weapon, she hissed, “Because it is no-ponies concern but mine, and if you tell Twilight anything about them I will destroy you, understand?” Eyes glowing and narrowed into slits that promised a slow painful death, she jabbed the spoon at Fleur. After a few seconds the glow dissipated. Blinking rapidly, Rarity threw a hoof over her mouth as she looked between the spoon and the corner she’d backed Fleur into, quickly apologizing, “Fleur, I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

“I-it’s alright,” Fleur said, kicking the spoon away as she felt her heart begin to slow after the panic of Rarity’s reaction started to fade. “I reacted similarly when confronted by Queen Iridia.”

“Yes, Twilight mentioned that,” Rarity sighed, sinking into a chair and laying her chin on the table. “I don’t know what to think or believe anymore, darling.”

“Why don’t you tell me? I think of any pony, I have the best chance of understanding, no?”

Nodding stiffly from the table, Rarity said, “I’ve only had six, no seven, and they’ve all been so terrible and frightening and sad, except one.” A light whimsical grin found its way onto the fashionista’s muzzle. “In that one I was sitting in front of a fire-place reading a book. I had three daughters, all curled up against my side as I read to them and they slowly drifted off to sleep. Mneme, Aoide, and Melete were their names. Their father entered the room. I can’t clearly recall him, except he was the colour of polished brass and had a deep rolling laugh that I chided him for using with the fillies sleeping. He helped me carry them to their beds as I sung them a lullaby.”

Rarity’s voice grew far-away and sad, a lilting string that could make the mountains weep glacial tears.

Lullaby, and good night,

With pink roses bedight,

With lilies o'erspread,

Is my babies’ sweet heads.

Lay you down now, and rest,

May thy slumber be blessed.

Lay you down now, and rest,

May thy slumber be blessed.

Lullaby, and good night,

You're your mother's delight,

Shining alicorn beside,

My darlings abide.

Soft and warm is your bed,

Close your eyes and rest your head.

Soft and warm is your bed,

Close your eyes and rest your head.

Sleepyheads, close your eyes.

Mother's right here beside you.

I'll protect you from harm,

You will wake by my side.

Guardian heroes are near,

So sleep on, with no fear.

Guardian heroes are near,

So sleep on, with no fear.

Lullaby, and sleep tight.

Hush! My darlings are sleeping,

On their sheets white as cream,

With their heads full of dreams.

When the sky’s bright with dawn,

They will wake in the morning.

When noontide warms the world,

They will frolic in the sun.

Tears streamed down Rarity’s face as the last note of the lullaby drifted away through the open window. Gingerly, she wiped away the tears and running mascara with a nearby cloth.

“You are Beauty,” Fleur whispered, wiping away a small tear that worked its way to her chin. “I-I encountered her in one of my dreams, during the... dark days of the war. She is the mother of the Muses, and they were killed by... Oh, je suis désolé mon amie.”

Stiffening a little, Rarity dropped the cloth on the table. Giving Fleur a hard look, she lifted her nose into the air.

“No, I am Rarity, not whomever it is that, according to Twilight and you, seems to be sharing my head. I am not an arrogant, cold alicorn. I am not the mother of the muses. I have never been married. And I most certainly have not partaken in any wars. Whatever this is,” Rarity gestured at her head, “I will not let it get the better of me. I don’t need to go traipsing across the ocean to deal with this. I am Rarity, and I can manage, am I understood?”

“Oui.”

“Good. Now, I’d prefer to discuss something other than all this business about dreams and what-not. It is giving me a headache.”

Head still lifted high, Rarity left the kitchen. Fleur continued to sit and ponder, wondering what other surprises were in store in the days ahead. She didn’t agree with Rarity’s decision, especially since it was clear that their dreams were connected. Shrugging her shoulders, Fleur decided it must be a heroine thing.

* * *

Vanhoover, the city of the Seven Peaks, home to the bourgeoning picture-film industry, there was a theater on every street with shows playing nightly year round. Two opera houses sat on the shore, their halls filled with music each evening. It was a city of beauty and passion that had arisen from simple beginnings as a lumber town. The buildings weren’t as tall or grand as those of Manehatten, and there wasn’t the rich history of Canterlot or Baltimare, but in their place was a vibrant youth and vitality.

Less than a day away sat the sole pass across the Crystalspine Mountains, beyond it lay the mysterious true north and lands no pony had set hoof in and returned. As one of only two ports on Equestria’s western shore, Vanhoover was filed with the tall masts of sailing vessels while near the harbour a frenzy of activity could be seen from a distance as the Great Experiment was built; a coal powered ship.

She had already been given the nickname of Lady Luna in honour of Luna’s return just days after her keel was laid. Revolutionary in every respect, she was to be built from steel rather than wood. In place of masts and sails she had coal-fed steam engines, like those of modern trains, that turned two giant propellers. But it was her size and luxury that truly set her apart. She would tower over the older sailing ships and be almost three times as long and twice as fast. Dining rooms and spacious cabins for the rich gentry and nobility filled the top decks, with smaller berths below for the commoners. Lady Luna was a marvel of modern equine engineering and thinking in every regard. But, at only half completed, it’d be another few years before her maiden voyage.

Trixie and Shyara learned all this as they went from theater to theater looking for any willing to take Trixie’s show and stomach her arrogance.

“Well, Trixie never heard of such bull-headedness,” the showmare growled through grinding teeth as the pair left behind another theater with no job. “’Any unicorn can do magic’? Pah, simpletons, all of them are simpletons. The Great and Powerful Trixie should have known better than to come to an Earth Pony city.”

Remaining silent, Shyara kept her eyes fixed on the glass fronted shops that comprised the merchant district. This was the first time she’d ever set hoof in a mortal city and everything about it surprised and shocked her. Ponies jostled each other in the narrow streets as they carried bags of goods. A few carriages moved through the crowds, their drivers shouting for ponies to move aside. A sea of top-hats and feathered hats showed the city to be a place of fashion and culture for the gentry, while unclothed commoners, or ponies from the outlying towns and villages came in on the morning trains to conduct their business before they’d return home in the evening, moved in a swarm of pastel colours.

Every few steps gave the filly new sights, and when they entered the restaurant district she was assaulted by a wave of mouth watering smells. Food from every corner of the world was served and left Shyara dizzy with hunger. She almost wanted to ask Trixie if they could stop to eat. The single minded look on the blue mare’s face dissuaded Shyara, and with some effort she suppressed the question. Trixie noticed the hungry eyes the young alicorn used to watch the ponies dining at a Prench styled bistro.

“After Trixie finds work, she’ll take you to a nice place to eat, how about that?” Trixie asked, surprising Shyara.

Giving her protector a happy smile and nod, she stepped closer to Trixie, shifting her wings a little under the enchanted vest Trixie had made for her. It itched and pulled at her feathers, but if it kept her hidden Shyara wasn’t going to complain. Any of the ponies in the city could be worshipers or followers of a Titan. All it’d take would be a single prayer that got a Titan’s attention and they’d come looking for her. No enchanted vest would be able to hide her once another alicorn was close.

Shyara was puzzled though. In the city, and before it the towns and villages they’d stopped in briefly, there were no temples to any of the Titans or Goddesses. Well, except for the Temple of Names they’d passed entering the city. In front of the white marble building several priestesses sat asking for donations to assist with caring for orphans.

Trixie had sneered at the priestess that approached and stated, “I give generously daily,” before hurrying along, leaving Shyara staring at the statue of the alicorn between the temple doors.

The statue sat smiling benevolently down on the ponies entering or leaving the temple, her wings outstretched like they were shading the doors. Painted a pure white with red mane and steel-grey eyes, the statue seemed to stare into and through Shyara, making the filly tremble.

“Who is that?” she shouted down from atop Trixie’s wagon to the priestess that Trixie had berated.

Chuckling at Shyara’s naiveté, the priestess said, “That is the lady of fate, the Namegiver, and according to our oldest and most sacred texts, the mother of Celestia and Luna.”

“Oh,” Shyara muttered, tilting her head in confusion. “I thought Celestia was born from the thoughts of Order, springing into being in a burst of fire to bring light to the endless dark of the world. Luna was then born to bring back the dark so that there would be balance between the Light and Dark giving us night and day.”

The priestess laughed, little tears of mirth in the corners of her eyes.

Stopping the cart, Trixie sent her best glare up towards an oblivious Shyara. Seeing the filly wasn’t paying attention, she snapped, “Leave the priestess alone.”

“That is quite the imagination your daughter has,” the priestess said as she stood up and approached the cart. “What is her name?”

“Shy Spell,” Trixie answered automatically, used to giving the answer and the assumption she was Shyara’s mother. “She isn’t my daughter, either. Her parent’s passed away leaving her with me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry for your losses,” the priestess said, covering her mouth with her hoof in shock. “May Celestia, Luna, Cadence, and Twilight watch over the both of you,” she added before watching as Trixie pulled the wagon into the city.

Trixie’s step hesitated for a half-moment, almost causing her to trip and fall before she regained her balance. “Princess Twilight Sparkle, some ponies have all the luck,” Trixie grumbled, glowering towards the priestesses before flickering her gaze to Shyara. “Well, Trixie is lucky, and talented as well,” she added with a smirk, "plus, Trixie isn't an alicorn pretending to be a normal unicorn that ruins other ponies lives and professions."

They ended up leaving the wagon in a lot behind an inn, the streets too packed to pull their home, while Trixie hunted for work. She could get a street performers license to perform near the large sea-side park, but Trixie kept insisting the real bits and fame only came from having a stage in one of the theaters. Privately Shyara thought it was hopeless. She knew better than to voice her concerns to Trixie though.

Passing a park, Shyara’s attention was grabbed by a group of fillies and colts running around a small copse of trees.

“Riot, stop, I got you already,” one of the fillies shouted at a small palomino pegasus colt.

“No you didn’t,” the colt taunted as he flapped his wings to help him buzz up one of the tree. The unicorn filly that had called to him stopped at the tree’s base, growling as she stomped her hooves. “And now you can’t ever get me, nyah!”

“No fair, we said no flying or magic!” the unicorn shouted, her call being echoed by several other fillies and colts.

Looking to Trixie, the showmare knocking on the door to yet another theater, Shyara bit her lower lip, then slowly began to approach the playing youngsters. All of them, she noted as she approached, already had their Soul Marks. Glancing at her blank flank, Shyara chewed on her lower lip a little more before stepping closer.

“Hi,” she said to a small black unicorn colt that was watching the other youngsters with a smug grin on his face. His mark was a pair of tornados, their tips touching so they formed a ‘V’.

Looking Shyara over, he tilted his head a little, saying, “Hullo. You new? I don’t recall seeing you around the neighborhood before.”

“Um, yes, my name’s Shy Spell.”

“Twister, of House Swirl,” the colt responded before turning his attention back to the argument at the tree.

“What are you playing?” Shyara asked as she sat down beside Twister.

“Predators and Ponies,” Twister responded lazily, not noticing the startled look that flashed behind Shyara’s eyes. “Snow Drops is a predator, if she catches you then you have to go to the time out spot for five minutes. Riot’s cheating though. He always cheats.”

“Can I join your game?” Shyara asked, looking between the various youngsters, almost a dozen in number. A few turned to her, a couple of the youngest in the group smiling and excitedly bobbing their heads.

“I don’t know, blank-flank,” sneered a bright orange earth pony filly with a pair of crossed hammers on her flank. “Think you’ll be able to keep up?” Her eyes sparkled with malicious intent that almost made Shyara regret leaving Trixie.

“Oh, come off it, Ball-Peen, doesn’t matter if she’s blank-flanked,” Twister snorted as he stood and approached the tree. “New game every pony! Riot, you’re out of the game since you cheated. New filly and Snow Drops are predators, everypony else is a pony. No magic, flying, or special talents allowed, okay?”

The gathered youngsters all nodded or clapped their hooves in excitement as Shyara walked towards where Snow Drops sat. Above them Riot snorted and called the ponies various names as he pouted. Shyara could sense that the palomino colt was going to cause problems of some sort. Snow Drops tilted her bluish-white head and blew a lock of white mane out of her eyes as Shyara joined her.

Turning to face the tree while covering her eyes, Snow Drops asked, “You ever play ‘Predators and Prey’ before, new filly?”

“Um, well, no,” Shyara admitted as she mimicked Snow’s posture. “But it sounds a lot like a game me and my cousins used to play.”

“Okay, well you stay close to the trees. With your darker coat you’ll be able to hide and sneak better than me. I’ll see if I can flush them out and herd them towards you.”

“Sure, I guess,” Shyara said as Snow began to loudly count.

Once the unicorn reached a hundred the game was started. Shyara quickly slipped into the well maintained trees and bushed in the park’s center. A little shiver of anticipation worked its way up her back as she moved from shadow to shadow. It quickly became clear that Snow Drops knew of all the good hiding spots, the unicorn racing back and forth, easily catching some of the younger ponies or driving those faster than her to where Shyara lay in wait.

A wide grin plastered on her face and a ready laugh willing to be given at a moment’s notice, Shyara would leap from cover to tag the unsuspecting filly or colt. It felt good, it felt right, it felt like something she’d almost forgotten over the past few years as the armies of Ares and Chranus marched across the land slaughtering and destroying any who followed the Alicorns of Harmony. Too long it had been since she’d just been able to play with youngsters, even if they were mortals.

Almost invisible beneath the leaves of a fern, Shyara watched as Twister and then Snow Drops came sprinting around the trees. The older colt had a good few strides on Snow Drops, but his route would take him right past where Shyara crouched. Licking her lips, Shyara began to shake her behind a little as she readied her pounce, like the good predator she was pretending to be. Around her the ferns shifted and shimmied in the still afternoon light, creating a slight rustle. Ignoring the ferns, Shyara focused all her attention on Twister as the colt drew closer and closer.

Just before she was going to pounce something hot and wet landed beside her head. Eyes shrinking to pin-pricks, she slowly looked at the glob of slime that had just fallen from above her. A low growl, as primordial as the foundations of the mountains surrounding the city, trembled through the shadows and rattled Shyara’s boned. Rotating her head back to look up, Shyara’s voice came out as a whimpering little yelp as she saw a black mass of something above her. Twister’s hooves thundered passed Shyara’s hiding spot as the thing above her opened its mouth, a mouth filled with large teeth and even larger fangs.

Shyara screamed at the same time as the something roared, the ferns billowing in its fetid breath. Calling for Trixie and her mother, Shyara darted out of the trees, her initial scream being joined by those of the other youngsters.

The something followed Shyara out into the open field of the park, the shadows seeming to expand and chase the filly rather than the monster stepping out of them itself. Six great ethereal paws sunk into the soft grass as the monster followed Shyara with its glowing golden eyes. Easily twice the height of a regular pony, the monster oozed confident danger as it ignored all the fillies and colts save Shyara. Head and body shaped like a cat, two long tails whipped and danced as the monster pounced.

Giving a short scream, Shyara darted to the side her little leg moving as fast as they could and her wings trying to flap beneath her vest. Landing only a few strides from the terrified filly, the shadow spun, twin tails cutting and stretching through the grass. Out of the corner of her vision Shyara saw the tails too late. With a slight crack, Shyara’s legs were swept from beneath her, sending her tumbling across the field. Panic continuing to grow, she struggled back to her hooves, turning her head just in time to see the monster leap forward again.

Shyara was vaguely aware of Snow Drops and Twister screaming her fake name and telling her to run, but she was stuck to the spot. Her legs refused to work, each tripping over the other when she tried to run so she fell face first back into the dirt.

“Shy Spell!” Snow Drops screamed as a paw slammed down on Shyara, pinning her back half to the ground.

Head snapping down, the shadowy cat bit at Shyara’s back only to find and tear off her vest. Screaming frantically as her wings snapped out to beat the air and her fore-hooves desperately dug at the ground, Shyara prayed desperately for some-pony, anypony, to save her. As the shadow tossed aside the torn vest, Shyara called again for Trixie, her mother, adding her grandmother, aunts, and even great aunts to the list. Mouth slowly descending towards its trapped prey, the shadow growled in anticipation of its satisfaction.

Sobbing as she felt the monster’s icy cold breath on her neck, Shyara wondered if she’d see her cousins in the Elysian Fields waiting for her. Would she even go to the fields? It was a place for the honourable and heroic; she was neither. And she was supposed to be a goddess. She heard that the gods and goddesses killed in the war became echoes, would that happen to her instead of going to an afterlife? The questions had barely been formed when a long shrill howl pierced the day drawing the shadow’s mouth away from Shyara’s neck.

From out of the sun fell a second shadow; one like a black cloud hissing and shrieking as it dove towards the earth. Magenta lines of magic crackled around its form as it slammed into the monster pinning Shyara. Rolling together, both shadows disappeared back into the trees and ferns that had hidden Shyara during the game. From within their boughs came piercing roars and terrible booms of trees being splintered and collapsing to the ground. Brilliant flashes of light showed snap-shots of the fight being conducted away from the gaze of the sun, the shadow-cat and cloud spinning and grappling each other.

From the copse came only a few words, repeated over and over, each coinciding with a flash of light. “Protect her! Must protect her!”

Hooves wrapped around Shyara, dragging the stunned alicorn away from the scene. In the distance sirens began to blare and dozens of pegasi flocked towards the park. After only a few yards the hooves pulling her were replaced by a gentle blue-white glow of magic. She was barely aware of the streets and startled looks ponies shot at her as she was carried by her rescuer. It was only as the yellow roof of Trixie’s wagon came into sight that Shyara shook off the fear gripping her thoughts.

“Come on, get inside,” Trixie ordered as she raced to the wagon’s reins. “What did I tell you? ‘Stay by my side and stay hidden’, and you couldn’t do that?”

Shyara hung her head as she jumped inside the wagon and poked open the window above the reins.

“W-what was that thing?” Shyara asked in a quivering voice.

“I, Trixie, believes it is a Shadowfiend. They used to roam the woods that were here before the city. They’re supposed to be extinct though,” Trixie said as she began to rapidly pull the wagon through the panic filled streets. Ponies either ran for cover or sat staring dumbly towards the source of the commotion. “Keep the window closed and your head down. We can’t afford to be caught now,” Trixie snapped out of the side of her mouth to Shyara.

Nodding mutely, the alicorn filly grabbed the pull rope to close the window, only to stop as a sudden pressure struck her at the base of her horn. Groaning, she rubbed her head and fell back into the wagon. Somewhere, very close, an alicorn was seething and pouring out her rage. Teeth buzzing in her head, Shyara began to tumble down into the waiting embrace of sleep.

* * *

Celestia slowly massaged her temples as she listened to the latest petitioners to her Daycourt. A dispute between House Dust and the city of Manehatten that had bounced through the lower courts and before several of Celestia’s Arbiters, only to end up in her hooves. She’d set up the Arbiters and court houses to avoid having to deal with such bitter and petty disputes. With Luna also back, and more than willing to be involved in such legal matters, Celestia had hoped to have even less involvement in the bickering of the Nobility and the two so-called Free Cities of Manehatten and Vanhoover.

If an important petition reached Celestia’s court it invariably involved one of the two cities in some capacity. Both founded by Earth ponies during the time of the Everfree Council, neither directly answered to the crown or any of the nobility. Hence the belief that they were freer than other cities. The last time Celestia had to personally become involved in a dispute between one of the cities and one of the Noble Houses had been in response to the city of Vanhoover confiscating almost all the property of the Swirl House and auctioning it off. The city had kept half the proceeds and given the other half to the Swirl House.

House Swirl had been furious, and after years in the various courts had brought their grievances directly before Celestia. The princess smiled as she recalled what she’d said after five boring days hearing all the details from both sides.

“No one tradition or system of governance is better than another. You sought to buy half the city and in doing so become the Duchess of Vanhoover. The city’s laws are very clear in this matter, I must rule in their favour.”

Celestia had hoped her decision would have smartened the nobility enough to avoid the free-cities for at least a generation. Her smile nearly faltered as she realized it had been almost fifty years since the Vanhoover vs. Swirl decision.

Taking care to maintain her calm facade, Celestia turned to the two ponies beside her. Chronicle, her seneschal, looked almost as bored as Celestia felt. Still, he listened to the arguments attentively, though he barely tried to stifle his yawns. Next to him sat Tyr, a keen look that should have been impossible flickering across her eyes.

The filly was adamant that she be allowed to attend and watch court. Cadence had at first refused, but acquiesced after thinking about the merits and how Tyr wanted to take part in what most ponies considered boring state affairs. So long as Tyr behaved herself during schooling, Cadence gave her permission. Surprised by Tyr’s request to join Daycourt, Celestia had happily allowed her presence, and had even begun to make a little game of it by asking Tyr’s opinion.

“So, what do you think?” Celestia whispered, aware that hundreds of eyes stared at the trio.

“It’s not as clear-cut as Vanhoover versus House Swirl in fifteen seventeen. House Dust was purchasing only the buildings and not the land itself. This still left the city as their land-lord. But it also cannot be denied that they were consolidating their control of the lower city. Almost a third of the area was paying rent to House Dust. I can’t find anything in the city’s laws that strictly prevent such a method of acquisition or the amount of buildings any one House may hold. Everything mentions land only.”

Chronicle gazed over his floating notes as he spoke, using the rolls of parchment as an impromptu shield between him and the court. Tyr gave a little snort of digression from her cushion.

“Manehatten was wrong to take away the Dust unicorn’s buildings. They weren’t doing anything wrong or bad, and even the city admits they were improving and making things better by fixing the older places.”

Smiling sweetly at the simplistic view of the filly, a filly over a hundred years old, but still just a filly Celestia stood to give her judgement. A hush fell across the chamber as the petitioners and Canterlot’s elite waited.

Taking a breath and going over again in her mind her decision, Celestia’s ear twitched as she heard a scream. The court remained unmoving, a little frown beginning to find purchase on her usually placid face. Again came the scream, and with it a hysterical voice.

Celestia, somepony, please!

At once the princess’ features hardened, her wings extending as she sought the source of the prayer. It took her half a beat of her suddenly racing heart to shift through the hundreds of voices calling her name at any given moment and homing in on the one she sought. Her ancient eyes widened as her divine gaze fell upon a silvery-grey filly pinned beneath the paw of a Shadowfiend. A silvery-grey filly with wings and a horn.

“Court is adjourned for the day!” Celestia shouted to the gathered ponies as she began to pull together the weave for a teleportation spell. She barely heard the muttering that filled the chamber her entire attention on the Shadowfiend and alicorn five hundred and twenty leagues away. She hoped she’d arrive in time, the small prayer to her mother barely forming before the inky nothingness of the null-space beneath reality engulfed her.

Cut off from the world and the events happening in Equestria’s western city, Celestia counted the seconds down. The bone numbing cold seeped into her wings and legs as Celestia basked in true silence. There was no sound except the rush of blood in her ears; no prayers begged for her attention, the sun didn’t play any of her games, nor were there any of the small almost imperceptible noises that filled the palace, just silence.

Then, in a rush of heat and sharp smells, sound and light returned.

Bellow her, ponies, many of them foals, ran about, screams tearing from raw throats. Celestia instantly recognised the mountains and skyline of Vanhoover even as she searched for the Shadowfiend and alicorn hoping the delay in teleporting had not sealed the filly’s fate. Her attention was drawn to a small group of trees like iron filings to a magnet. From within came flashes of magic and the sharp howls of the Shadowfiend. Her wings slowly stroking the air to keep her aloft, Celestia closed her eyes to locate the alicorn.

She felt nothing other than the sun curiously observing.

For half a beat of her ancient heart, she knew only emptiness and sorrow. A memory, buried for almost sixteen centuries, flashed before her eyes. More and more in recent months it had surfaced, plaguing the princess, taunting and tormenting her with old failures. She stood at the mouth of that accursed cave high in the Marenese Mountains of southern Prance. Before her, scattered about the cave, were a dozen bodies, all withered black husks. Beneath the bodies the rocks had been burnt and charred, and Celestia could smell the magic responsible lingering in the air like a clinging musk. At the cave’s heart, in a ring of stone obelisks, Luna sat clutching a small aqua-marine body in her hooves as tears streamed down her face.

Luna looked up, her eyes sunken pits of anguish and despair, and then the memory was gone, replaced by searing rage. Celestia’s aurora like mane vanished, becoming flames hot as the surface of her beloved Sol, boiling away the omnipresent clouds over the city. Celestia gathered her magic causing the air around her to hiss and crackle. There were no fancy spells or tricks, Celestia simply launched her magic, conjuring a lance of energy that she poured centuries of regret and anger into.

In a flash and deep, trembling rumble the trees and ferns vanished, burnt to ash and dust under the weight of the goddess’ might. The pegasi that had rushed to the scene were all blown back, twisting and spiralling through the air while those on the ground unfortunate to be near the source of a goddess’ ire rolled and tumbled through the grass. High above, Sol gave a smug satisfied grin and sent a wave of comforting energy to Celestia. The princess ignored the sun, her eyes searching for any trace or sign of the beast that had stolen the potential from an alicorn. She saw movement, a wave of smoke that crawled across the ground.

Grinding her teeth and recognising Puff from Twilight and Luna’s descriptions, Celestia attacked again, the ground boiling into slag beneath her spell. Wings still gently flapping to keep her aloft, Celestia surveyed the devastation she’d created. Of the shadowfiend and Puff there were no signs. Breath slowing, Celestia felt the old wound in her heart twist. For the moment, her anger was spent with nothing to be directed towards.

Celestia, thank you.

Her head snapped towards the prayer, so weak it could hardly be discerned among those flowing from the frightened city. Closing her eyes she fixed her Awareness on the tired voice. She saw a bed and heard the rumble of wheels, but it was the sight of the silver filly, her head resting on a threadbare pillow and shielded from the slanting light of the sun by a lock of black mane, that both comforted and confused Celestia.

The prayer was too weak to maintain the sight for more than a few seconds. Back-winging to land in the center of the damage she’d caused, Celestia twisted her head around trying to seek out some feeling or sense of the filly, but found nothing. She’d been able to sense Tyr easily. Not being able to find a trace of this new alicorn left her head spinning with questions, the most important being ’why’? Twilight, even as a fostered filly, had been so simple to locate. This alicorn wasn’t fostered, and yet it was like finding a shadow in a pitch black room. Closing her eyes and concentrating Celestia finally found a lingering echo of the alicorn’s presence, like the whisper of shampoo on a pillow. But she couldn’t follow it.

“Well, I know now what you look like and where you were. You can’t get too far,” Celestia said as she again took to the sky.

With an expert flip of her wings she angled towards Fort Manely and the small detachment of Royal Guards that made the fort their home. If they set up the search now, it was possible to find the filly and whoever was with her before they slipped away again.

* * *

“You should be careful, Lord Dragon, the pony goddesses are not to be taken lightly. Oh, no, no, no, they should not.”

Gilda’s sleep encrusted eyes slid open as the thick rolling voice tumbled through her ears. Groaning at the pain lancing through her side, she tried to turn over on the small bed but found herself strapped down. All drowsiness vanished as she spotted the rope lashed around her body, binding her to the bed. For a few moments she struggled against her binds, when a second voice, one like the rumble of thunder and the falling of a mountain, made her heart skip in panic.

She couldn’t understand any of the words spoken by the second voice, if it was indeed a voice and not an avalanche. Taking short ragged breaths, Gilda looked around for something she could use to free herself. She saw nothing but pots and potions of every colour filling the shelves that lined the walls. In the center of the room bubbled a cauldron over a large fire. Carved masks glared down on the griffon from their perches on the walls.

“Where the buck am I?” Gilda snarled as she pulled and tugged.

“I understand, yes, I understand.” The first voice gave a weary sigh.

From his tone and the way the hut shook Gilda guessed that who, or what, ever the voice had been speaking with had left. The rhythmic tap of wood and hooves signaled the voice’s approach. Bound and helpless, Gild snapped her eyes half-shut so she could peer at the beads hanging in the doorframe and see who had captured her without him knowing she was awake.

“I know you are awake, cat-bird,” the voice said as the beads were swept aside by a staff to let a crippled zebra into the hut. “I raised seven daughters and taught five apprentices, I know when someone fakes sleep. You are not very skilled at it, neither.”

“Who are you? Where the buck am I?” Gilda snarled the questions, straining again against her restraints.

“I am the Mighty and Mostly Magnificent Zubu, at your service,” Zubu gave an awkward bow, rising up to lean his staff next to the door before hopping towards Gilda. “And you are in my home on the edge of the Great Ape Jungle. Well, just inside, actually. On the edge, more or less.”

Gilda froze, her blood turning to ice. She and Blinka had heard legends and stories about the jungle and the large white apes that lived beneath its shade. Terrible beasts that hunted anything that intruded on their home and could move through the treetops like ghosts. Griffons that flew too low were said to be grabbed by vines and pulled down to waiting claws and fangs. Even the most hardened and strongest griffons of the aerie had trembled when giving the warnings to the un-exiled griffons.

“Don’t you worry none. Those savage brutes live much further into the jungle.” Zubu chuckled as he approached, using his good hoof to lift a compress from the side of Gilda’s chest.

She craned her head to look and saw a patch of shaved fur and plucked feathers right where her coat merged with her crest. A wave of embarrassment flashed through her as he tutted and slathered on a thick pungent smelling ointment.

“You are healing well. Had me worried for a while as you slipped in and out of the deep sleep. Thought you’d be joining your ancestors more than once. But I am Zubu, and I know my arts well, yes I do. But I am out of Mungus Root, so there will be little I can do for the aches and pains you will surely feel. How do you feel?”

Gilda blinked dumbly at the question. She felt... sore, all over. Her wings, legs, back, even her beak was sore. Taking a hiss of breath, she looked away from the zebra, not willing to admit how terrible she felt. He just chuckled some more as he began to undo the ropes binding her.

“I’m sorry for the ropes, but you would thrash about terribly when you had nightmares during the fever and infection. Fire suggested the bindings.”

“Fire?”

“Fire!” Zubu gestured to the flames kissing the cauldron, a wide manic grin on his old wrinkled face.

“Uh huh,” Gilda muttered as the last rope was loosened. Rolling off the bed, Gilda had to fight off a wave of exhaustion and nausea that assaulted her, making the hut spin. “Listen, thanks, I guess, for helping me, but I need to find my cousin and Talona.”

“Talona? The daughter of Wisdom and Retribution? She is in the aerie.” Zubu tossed the rope into a corner, next to a pile of mushrooms and old rags. “As for your cousin, she was young griffon? Broken wing, yes?”

Gilda nodded slowly, mostly because her head spun and her stomach clenched with the slightest movement.

“She is dead then.”

The words were said with simple finality. No preamble, nothing to soften their blow, just the hard truth. Gilda’s beak fell open and she slumped on the cot.

“Dead? So... they killed her? Because of a broken wing?”

“That is the way of the cat-birds. To ‘return to the Earth’ those that cannot contribute. In doing so they feed the grass, as the grass feeds the gazelle, and the gazelle feeds the cat-bird. A soldier who cannot fly, what good is she?”

“She could have been helped! Or had done something not flying related if it was impossible to fix her wing!” Gilda stood in a rush of anger, and almost as quickly toppled over, her head barely missing the cauldron and fire.

“You are both exiles-in-return, yes?” Gilda nodded as she was helped back onto the cot. “Then you are not craft-birds or nobility. Soldiers are all you are seen as having a use for, nothing more. Not as shamans, baker, or butcher. Not even as manual laborer. But to fight for the aerie and hunt for the aerie. That is cat-bird way.” Zubu clicked his tongue and made a tut-tut. “It is a waste.”

Moving around to the other side of the hut, Zubu began to root and shift through shelves. As he did Gilda sat staring off into space. She couldn’t believe that Blinka was gone, left to rot beneath a tree. Since losing Rainbow Dash’s friendship, Blinka had been the only other soul Gilda really knew or interacted with. There were only three griffon families in all of Equestria, and none of the other exiles had liked Gilda any more than the ponies of Ponyville.

It had been Blinka who consoled Gilda when she’d flown back to the roost. It had been Blinka that had pulled Gilda out of the funk and depression that losing Rainbow Dash had caused. It had even been Blinka who suggested they travel a bit, visit the other exile colonies. It had been Gilda, though, who wanted to go to the aeries when they heard word of their exile being renounced if they joined the army.

Now, the one remaining friend she had in the world was gone, stolen from her by the general of Southstone when all she and her cousin had wanted was to find a new home. A low growl rumbled in Gilda’s chest as she looked at her talons.

They had taken Blinka from her, left her for dead, and they had the alicorn foal. She had nothing, was nothing. She could hardly stand on her own four legs.

“I be knowing that look, yes, I do,” Zubu said from where he’d been watching. “You’re thinking of doing something very stupid, Mm Hm.”

“They took Blinka from me,” Gilda whispered, tensing her talons. “I’m just going to repay them.”

“Revenge, it is not the way.” Zubu shook his head.

“Yeah, well I’m not some lame old cripple,” Gilda snarled. “Ponies, Zebras, you’re all the same. Run away rather than face your problems head on.”

Zubu’s face grew dark and stormy, his good eye turning into a dangerous black pearl. In a flash he crossed the hut, his face so close to Gilda’s she couldn’t avoid the stench of tobacco and rotten teeth on his breath. His mangled leg shot up, jabbing a short stick underneath Gilda’s beak.

“I will forgive that comment because you are ignorant, little cat-bird.”

Sneering at the supposed threat, Gilda made to brush the stick aside. Quick as a cobra, Zubu grabbed her wrist and twisted it back, pain flaring through the limb.

“Ow, hey!” the Gilda yelped as she found herself unable to move.

“Youngsters, you are all the same, especially you cat-birds. So quick to lash out and think the world owes you something. Never stopping to think or wonder if tragedy could have been avoided. If a father needed to bury his children.” Zubu released her, huffing as he turned away, his tail slapping her across the face.

Sitting in stunned silence, Gilda massaged her tender wrist.

“You need to rest. There will be no taking vengeance tonight or for the next many nights. Rest now. We’ll talk more in the morning.” Zubu grabbed his staff from beside the door and stepped out into the jungle.

Left alone, Gilda rested her head back on the lumpy pillow, nursing the pain in her body and heart. Tears soaked her pillow long before she fell back to sleep, only one thought in her mind; finding the general and making her suffer the same pain Gilda felt.

Chapter Nine: The Sea Serpent

Myths and Birthrights

By Tundara

Part Two: Tremors in the East

Chapter 9: The Sea Serpent

The wailing of the dead rose from the black river, lifting into the putrid fetid air like a fog. The noise was omnipresent, a constant single grinding sound that wore away at sanity, hope, and desire. Mortals that found their way to the river’s bank rarely survived long, a slight tingle of magic speaking of the haunting litany's true nature.

There was a second effect, a calling, a whispering undertone that begged those that heard the wails to come closer to the river, to sup of its poisonous water.

Those that did instantly and irreversibly lost themselves, their very souls pulled into the Styx.

A pair of ash grey hooves landed with a sharp report on the sole dock. A dozen withered specters looked towards the hooves’ owner, their open mouths and empty eyes gaping at the newcomer. A few tried to shuffle towards him, drawn like moths to a flame by the energy of life flowing from him. The sharp crack of a whip and acid tongue made them return to their ordered lines. A second crack of the whip and they began the long journey towards a distant palace of obsidian, violet lightning highlighting dark twisted spires that towered above the barren landscape.

The newcomer hesitated a moment as summer-blue eyes looked sadly to the sprawling complex.

“Brother, what have you been up to these last few thousand years?” a voice, rich and sad, asked.

The newcomer stepped past lines of chained and shackled spirits, their jailers and masters not looking at the intruder as they went about their duty. It took nearly half a day, as the clock would reckon time, for him to cross the empty featureless plain that stretched between the river and the palace. Small puffs of dust and ash swirled with each step, the cracked, parched ground emitting little squeals or moans as hooves churned the earth. A road did connect the dock and palace, but it was filled with endless throngs of the marching dead; grist for the palace’s mill.

At last he reached the palace, turning to the right as he passed beneath through a wide gate. The gate-house, and the wall surrounding the palace, were covered in sharp spikes that dripped with misery, lording over the flat barren lands they held back. Gargoyles sat along the parapets, occasionally leaping into the bleak sky to fly to a new perch. With every flap of their leathery wings the gargoyles shed scales of volcanic rock, the stones creating a harsh crackling din like hail.

Crossing the courtyard, the newcomer approached the doors into the palace itself. Before them sat a pale-white alicorn. He was gaunt and sickly looking, his features sunken and his eyes two dull black orbs. Hanging limply about his face and neck like a cloak was a mane of wiry black hair. On the alicorn’s flank was a smiling black skull.

“Uncle, what a... pleasure, to see you come visit our humble abode. Come to lord your sons’ victory over my mother’s slayers?” the pale-white alicorn asked in a voice like the hissing of sand falling through an hourglass.

“I have come to speak with your father, Achlys,” the newcomer said, his voice thundering across the desolate waste.

“Of course you have,” Achlys laughed sourly. “He sits where he always has this past while. You will find him at the graves, mourning our loss.”

“Alicorns do not die, as you know best.” The newcomer snorted and narrowed his eyes.

“Even gods can die. It is what happens after death that is uncertain,” Achlys slowly stood as his retort rolled from his tongue like drops of oil. “I, of all beings, should know." A black aura shrouded his horn as he turned, thrusting the door open.

The newcomer did not respond, simply following Achlys into the shadowed palace. Braziers of burning pallid green spiritual essence gave the halls, the inner walls as dark as the outer ones, a foreboding air. Hooves echoed among the almost deserted halls. There was little in the way of decorations. No banners or tapestries hung from the walls, paintings didn’t show previous tenants; not that there had ever been any. Even the roof was plain, with no lattice work or carvings etched into the obsidian. Other than the braziers the halls were completely featureless, devoid of life or creativity.

Both kept their silence as they passed libraries and grand bedrooms. These rooms, unlike the stark hallways, were filled with individual touches and flourishes. Achlys’ uncle’s eyes took in the rooms open to sight as the two passed.

The first, and largest, of the bedrooms hidden deep in the almost empty palace, was filled with oil paintings of a soft evergreen toned mare. Her blue mane was pulled back into a harsh bun in most of the pictures, her sickly yellow eyes gleaming above a smirk. In each her attire was different, some of the styles unfamiliar to the palace’s guest. In the center sat a hanging bed that took up half the room. The dark plum coloured sheets had a thin layer of dust covering them and a white dress had been left spread across the lower half.

The doors to the second and third rooms were both closed. From inside the later came the gentle morose tinkling of a wind-up music box.

Like the first room, the door to the fourth was open. Inside sat a room of simple earthy beauty. There was none of the extravagance of the first room, just simple brown tones and wood with carvings of woodland scenes. Above an empty hearth sat a ruined painting. A knife or claw had torn and ripped the canvass removing almost all trace of the subject. Only a few yellow and green tones could be seen on the dangling scraps. The small bed showed similar signs of mistreatment, the sheets tossed to one side and the mattress spreading its feathery guts across the floor. A lock on the door into the room had been shattered leaving a small hole where the doorknob had once been.

Achlys stopped in front of the room for a few moments, his lips peeling back to reveal broken yellow teeth.

“I cannot believe she is gone,” Achlys growled, the moment passing and the pale alicorn continuing to lead his uncle.

“Your sister?”

“She alone in this wretched realm understood me, pitied me.” The God of Death flicked his wings as he stared straight ahead. “She knew my loneliness well, for she shared it.” Achlys stopped before a small wrought-iron gate that led into an equally small garden. “This is as far as I go, Uncle. I’ll warn you this once, be careful around Father, he is not the alicorn you banished here all those millennia ago.”

Left alone, he waited until Achlys’ hoofsteps retreated into the palace before pushing the gate open. The grey alicorn stepped into an even greyer garden. There was no greenery or life in this place, just the withered and wretched stalks of flowers surrounding the bones of an apple tree. The air was heavy with the stench of rotting plants.

“So, the mighty Zeus has finally come to pay his brother a visit,” chuckled a sour and mirthless voice from behind the dead tree.

Trotting quickly around the tree, Zeus laid eyes on his elder brother for the first time since he had banished him from the mortal world of Gaea.

Hades, Lord of Tartarus, God of the Dead, was a pale sickly shadow of his former glory. Where Zeus remembered a stallion filled with the pride and arrogance to challenge for the crown to rule the alicorns, he now saw a being broken by grief. His obsidian coat was unkempt and filthy, covered with years of dirt and grime as it hung loosely on a frame as withered as the garden. Likewise, his once silvery-white mane and beard were messes of snarls and knots, clinging to Hades’ hollow face in oily clumps. A crack ran the length of his horn, Zeus cringing at the sight of the wound. It was the eyes though that effected Zeus the most. Gone was the brilliant cunning and ambition that once shone like a beacon, able to find the strengths and flaws, the truths and lies of a soul, replaced by nothingness. Only Hades’ mark remained the same, the golden gate on his flank sitting before the ghostly outline of a pony.

Zeus craned his neck to get a look at the object Hades ice-blue eyes never wavered from. A pair of mausoleums sat leaning against the garden’s back wall. Etched into their soft stone were only a few words; ‘Hecate, Wife’ and ‘Artemis, Daughter’.

“You mourn for no reason, brother,” Zeus snorted as he sat down beside Hades.

The garden trembled as a sharp thunderous crack echoed throughout, spilling onto the empty wastes of Tartarus beyond the palace. Zeus hadn’t even seen Hades move or felt the build up of magic before the blow was struck and the King of the Alicorns sent crashing into a wall.

“Do not presume to tell me whether my grief is in vain or not!” Hades howled, eyes bulging from his head. A bident hovered in his golden magic above Zeus. Green runes of sickly magic glowed along the haft as low tortured moans of the damned echoed from the weapon’s prongs. “I care not for your dominion nor your supposed and overly exaggerated wisdom. This is Tartarus, and here—,”

True thunder rang across the desolate plains as Hades was hurled away and into the opposite wall. Laughing, Zeus cracked his neck as he stood. Across the small garden, Hades snarled as he pulled himself up. Wafts of smoke and singed hair filled the air as the two elder alicorns glared at each other.

“I didn’t come all this way to fight with you, brother,” Zeus finally said, spreading his wings low in a gesture of peace. “I came to ask for your aid.”

“My aid, that is a laugh,” Hades snorted as he drove his bident into the ground. “What possible aid could you need from the lowly Lord of Tartarus?”

“I need to find my daughters, of course.”

For several seconds the two brothers stared at each other, then a thin smirk began to grow on Hades face. Zeus breathed a sigh of relief, lowering the magic filling his horn.

“Find your daughters, that’s all?” the black alicorn asked. His joints and bones snapped and popped as he slowly returned to his vigil before the graves. “What help do you need from me? They are not in Tartarus; I looked. When the Citadel of Light was consumed by tainted magic, I looked, wondering if any of them would be cast down to my home where I could exact my payment. Only a smattering of their mortal servants arrived, those from the kitchens, maids, gardeners or the like. Only the most sniveling and worthless came to Tartarus, as is the norm. Most went to Elysium. As for the alicorns, there was no sign.

“I cannot help you, brother.” Hades placed a hoof on the grave of Artemis. Tears welled in his eyes, but couldn’t be shed. Zeus looked on his brother with pity.

Glancing up to the clouds of eternal ash that hung above Tartarus, Zeus said, “I do not believe that those at the Citadel perished that night.”

“The mountain was sundered, ripped in half by the magic unleashed. Ares, Chranus, Achlys, and Baste were flung beyond the horizon by the force of the explosion. How could a bunch of wounded mares and un-awakened fillies survive?”

“You are not the first I have visited in search of answers. I went to the Fates, and the crones told me much of that night that was hidden to all but their eye. While the mountain was indeed broken, that was simply a cover to allow them to save their foals and possibly themselves.” Zeus began to pace as he spoke, his steps fast with agitation and suppressed hope. Hope, his beautiful niece, Authea. The old alicorn cracked a smile as he remember her infectious happiness and how she always seemed to know what do. If any pony could have anticipated that terrible night and prevented the worst of the tragedies, it was Authea. “There is a chance that they are out there, still.”

“Out where, brother?”

“There,” Zeus swept his wings indicating the horizon of Tartarus.

“I told you already, they are not in Tartarus. If they were I would know about it. It is almost impossible to step a hoof or flick a wing in this realm without my knowing, even in my current condition.”

“No, not in Tartarus, but in the domains beyond.” Zeus’ smile cracked wider.

Hades turned his head from where Zeus paced and instead looked out across his realm. After contemplating everything he’d been told, he fixed a sharp glare on his brother. “You speak of the Seventeen Gates, don’t you?”

“I do indeed.”

“They say grief has driven me to madness... Clearly, I don’t have it the worst.” Hades shook his head as he stood, a grim disapproving pinch to his lips. Turning to leave the garden, he muttered, “You don’t know what you ask of me.”

“I ask you to find our missing fillies! I ask you to make amends for the imprisonment of the Moon and every hardship caused by your lust. I ask you to help me restore stability and harmony to Gaea. Damn it, brother, I beg you, help me.”

Zeus’ plea had the desired effect, halting Hades before the God of the Dead left the garden. Suppressing a grin of victory, Zeus knew he had to be extremely careful, more so than ever before in his ten thousand years of existence, for the next few moments. Wetting his lips, he waited for Hades to slowly turn to face his brother.

“You, Mighty Zeus, God of Storms, King of the Alicorns, you beg help from me and have the temerity to blame the war on my actions?” Hades pulled his face back into an enraged sneer. Zeus felt his heart beat quicker as his older brother approached. The next few moments sat on the edge of a knife, with failure lurking to cackle its mad laugh. “I brought her here because I wanted to keep her safe. I loved her, I still love her, I will always love her!”

Zeus almost let the smile of victory touch his lips as he said, “Then help me find her missing daughters! Help me find our daughters. They are out there, somewhere, beyond one of the Gates.”

Hades slumped back in defeat, a weary sigh leaving his body. “The Fates told you this?” Zeus nodded. “And you don’t believe they are playing their games, clearly.”

Leaning against the small iron gate, Hades turned to consider the right grave, the grave he had constructed only a month ago. She was alive, his most precious filly was still alive. Standing straighter, his wings tucked tight to his side, not dragging in the dust and ash, Hades said, “Very well, I will take you to the Seventeen Gates and see if we can re-unite our herds.”

Zeus finally allowed himself to smile again and slap a hoof on his brother’s withers.

Shooting him a sharp glare, Hades cautioned, “They may not be behind any of the Gates, and some of the worlds beyond them make Tartarus look tame in comparison. This is almost certainly a fool’s errand.”

“Then it is good we're mighty fools indeed, brother!” Zeus let out a booming laugh.

He could taste the scent of victory on the parched Tartan air and almost feel his hooves again able to wrap themselves around his eldest daughters. Then, maybe, he could finally figure out what exactly had caused his large and extensive family to feud so fiercely. Arguments and disputes weren't uncommon, and there had been fights, but never before had alicorn destroyed alicorn. Zeus had theories and ideas, a few clues as well, but no hard evidence or facts. He had to know, exactly, what had happened, and then he would punish those required.

“A pair of Titans once more, out to reclaim what is ours,” Hades agreed with his sharper laugh. "Not even one of the Quus could stand in our way."

* * *

It was with a profoundly weary sigh that Luna lowered the latest report from the Royal Scouts. To her left, Celestia was asleep, her head resting on the table as a thin trickle of drool leaked out onto detailed maps showing the entire province of Western Equestria. Luna was glad her sister was finally getting some sleep, even if it looked uncomfortable, not to mention how embarrassed Celestia would be when she awoke.

After three days of continuous activity, stopping wagon after wagon, searching every town and village along the roads from attic to basement, there wasn’t a sign of the silver filly except a few lingering traces of her essence being carried on the wind.

At first this excited Luna as she and her sister narrowed the search location. But the traces had no rhyme or reason to their movements or origins. It was Celestia who concluded that they were being led on a wild goose chase. This was very troubling to the princesses.

They had never encountered an alicorn that could purposefully hide or obfuscate her essence. That a filly was doing it, and without Awakening told them a couple things about her. Not being fostered, she had to be close to her Awakening for her to be able to even subconsciously use her alicorn abilities. It was very similar to pre-cutie mark magic unicorns began to develop in the few months before they discovered their special talents. The second was, once she awakened, it would be completely impossible to find her if she wanted to stay hidden.

Luna had started to scribble possible domains that would grant such an ability. So far she had Mysteries, Stealing, Shadows, Darkness, Secrets. It was far from a comprehensive list.

Celestia didn’t disagree with Luna’s assessment, but she also urged caution. The Solar Princess was secretly ashamed of her actions in Vanhoover, and wondered if the filly had seen her when she’d been consumed by rage and guilt. Tyr had been terrified of Iridia’s mere presence, maybe this filly was running and hiding because she was afraid of her. Celestia couldn’t shake the feelings of doubt and self-reproach. She worked twice as hard to make up for her actions.

One of the few bits of good news the sisters had received was that Puff was sighted fleeing up into the Crystalspine mountains. Up in those barren and foreboding peaks, it wouldn’t be able to harm anypony.

Luna hoped.

Setting the note down, Luna rubbed her red rimmed eyes. She needed sleep almost as badly as her sister. Coffee could only do so much, even for an alicorn, before the needs of the body would finally catch up. The beds put aside in one corner of the old campaign tent looked like sirens, begging and singing for the Lunar Princess to sink into their warm comforters and lay her head down on the plush duck down pillows. She could feel her eyes begin to droop staring at the beds.

"Good morning, Lulu!" chirped an aggravatingly perky voice, forcing Luna to snap her eyes off the beds and to the tent-flap.

Wrapped in the early morning light filtering through the flap like it was her green cloak stood Iridia. The queen had used a spell to hide her wings, making her appear like a tall Prench unicorn. She claimed it was to help her 'blend in' and not draw suspicion, but it did neither. Unicorns of Prench descent in Equestria were one of two things; part of the embassy or fashion models.

'At least she doesn't stick out like a broken horn as much without the wings,' Luna sighed to herself before asking, "Iridia, what are you doing here? I thought you were... uh... doing something."

"'Doing something'?" Iridia tilted her head and rolled her eyes. "I've had nothing to do for thirty years, and before that I was an amorphous energy... thing. Honestly, living in Canterlot is almost as bad as Reinalla. Though you and your sister are mildly less paranoid about me going all evil than the Halla. I was allowed two rooms, and to go to the garden with an escort consisting of their fastest, their strongest, their wisest, and their most magically gifted warriors." The Queen rolled her eyes as she picked up a report sitting on the table and began scanning its contents.

Rubbing her forehead, Luna barely managed to suppress a groan at Iridia's attempts at a pity session. Eyes fixated on her work, Luna reminded herself to avoid rising to Iridia's baiting. She couldn't afford to be distracted, not with a filly missing and in possible danger.

Laying down on one of the beds, peaking over the parchment to watch Luna's reaction, Iridia continued.

"I think after fifteen hundred years of oral tradition, they've gotten the facts of who did what to whom all muddled up. Yes, my behaviour may have been a little extreme, but really, It—,"

Luna's eye twitched, an image of a small filly laying in her hooves flashing through her mind's sight. The filly was so cold, cold as the white winds whipping through the mountains. She could feel the slight weight in her hooves again, even after fifteen centuries, pulling her heart down to the deepest pits of Tartarus.

She could feel the boiling rage as well.

Any idea of weathering Iridia's self-pity vanished as the memory surfaced, Luna's ears flicking back to rest along her head.

"Auntie, you are not the only one who those cultists wronged, and I am not speaking of Namyra. I was there before you. It was I who saw her final moments, who felt her small body grow still, and it was I who forced a star to fall to create a wish to save her. It was I who had to destroy the abomination that wish created!" Luna shouted, leaping up and stamping a hoof, her eyes flashing in time to the tent shuddering. "Yet, I don't go moping around wanting other ponies to feel sorry for me!"

"No," Iridia laughed, her mirth cold and cruel as the most bitter winter wind. "You sulk and worry your nights away tormenting yourself about the War of the Sun and Moon, terrified you'll fall and become Nightmare Moon again. I've seen the front you put on in front of our herd, and I've seen your face as you sit, alone, in the gardens staring up the moon."

"How dare you!" Luna eyes narrowed, her nostrils flaring as she snorted. "At least I admit my mistakes and attempt to atone, not whine and cry like a foal begging for attention after stubbing a hoof."

"Why you little...," Iridia's voice trailed off as the parchment held in her magic began to blacken and crinkle as if it was in a fire. Luna knew she shouldn't provoke her self-centered and volatile aunt, but she couldn't help but smirk as Iridia slowly advanced towards her. "I've attempted to atone! I tried everything within my limited power to ease the suffering of your heart because you were the one there for my Namyra when I failed as a mother! Me, the Goddess of Motherhood, of Life, of the Spring, failing at the very thing I symbolize."

The illusion Iridia had wrapped around herself to appear as a unicorn faltered, her wings flaring with trails of golden magic. Her mane came alive, whipping and cracking as if caught in a tempest.

"I killed my eldest daughter through my negligence and pride, Luna! Then, because of that same pride, I took my grief out on a world that had done nothing to wrong me!"

The air trembled and the earth shook as Iridia continued to advance towards Luna. Most ponies would have cowered before the display; Luna was not like most ponies. Instead, she almost felt a flicker of pity for the much older mare. She was not intimidated in the least, having once been prone to often giving such displays of pure unbridled power. The effect could not be maintained, the tent growing still as Iridia slowly closed her wings.

"Don't think I don't know, in my heart of hearts, that I alone bear the burden of responsibility for all the deaths that almost endless winter caused." Tears gathered in Iridia's eyes as she sat down and curled into a ball in front of Luna. Slowly, the tears began to trickle down her face. Luna was so stunned, she almost failed to snatch a small empty bowl from the table and place it under Iridia's chin before the first fell.

"I'm not as strong as you or Tia," Iridia whispered, "I'm just a bitter old mare lost in a world I hardly recognise or understand, weighed down by my innumerable failures."

For a minute the tent was filled only with the gentle clinking of two thousand years worth of tears falling into the bowl.

"I'm sorry," Iridia sobbed. "You should be finding that missing filly, not arguing with me. This is silly, I didn't even cry when Namyra was murdered," she added in a muttered undertone, growing silent afterwards.

"Crying isn't silly," came Celestia's voice.

Turning her head a little, Luna saw her sister still laying her head on the table, her rosy pink eyes half-lidded with the lingering drowsiness of interrupted sleep. Yawning, Celestia stood and stretched, her wings brushing against the top of the tent. A head poked into the tent, the new guard captain looking anxiously between the three alicorns.

"We... uh, heard raised voices. Is anything... amiss?" she asked, her voice almost as timid as Fluttershy's.

"No, captain," Luna said. "Just an ancient herd dispute being aired."

"Ancient dispute? How ancient?" the captain asked, her curiosity overtaking her common sense and training.

"From before Equestria, Captain." Celestia shook her head, then added, "You are dismissed and may return to your post."

"Yes, ma'am," the captain said as she saluted and closed the tent.

"I'm sorry, Tia," Iridia whimpered as she tried to wipe away the crystal tears clinging to her coat. "I know you've been working hard and I didn't mean to be a distraction, I just—,"

Iridia's voice was cut off and muffled as Celestia grabbed the smaller alicorn and gave her a stiff hug. Luna felt her mouth fall open at the sight, a sight she thought she'd never see. Both sisters had held onto the anger and hurt Iridia had caused when she'd torn their herd apart and made ponies suffer under her tyranny, using it as a talisman against the past. Luna sighed, knowing that the echoes of that suffering that had contributed to her own fall into Nightmare Moon. She knew she needed to forgive, though not forget, and was surprised to find that the ancient pain had begun to lessen and mend.

Pushing Iridia back so they could look each other in the face, Celestia said, "I'm glad you finally admitted the truth, Auntie. Not a flippant half-admission like at Twilight's coronation, but the heartfelt truth."

Iridia's marine blue eyes darted between Celestia and Luna as she whispered, "I don't deserve forgiveness. Not for my apathy, not for unsealing the Windigos, not for manipulating and inciting the Halla into raiding pony villages." She took a shuddering breath, her wings drooping at her sides. "I'll be out of Canterlot as soon as Twilight returns so I can give her a proper good-bye."

"You don't need to leave," Luna protested, lifting a hoof ever so slightly.

"That's kind of you to say, Lulu," Iridia gave a wet chuckle. "But I should return to Reinalla before the Halla get it into their fool heads that they need to go looking for me."

Celestia nodded slowly, a pensive twist pulling down the corners of her mouth. The elder princess didn't say anything as Iridia moved to the tent's exit. Luna looked between her sister and aunt, an itching sense of doubt and wrongness dancing at the tip of her thoughts. Just as Iridia was slipping out into the sunlight, Luna called for her to stop.

"Auntie, before you return to Canterlot, I have a query; are you able to find this missing filly?"

Iridia tilted her head, and then sighed, turning away from the exit and returning to the table.

"I... uh, Maybe? Do you know her name? Age?"

Celestia and Luna both admitted that they did not.

"She was using the name 'Shy Spell', according to ponies interviewed in Vanhoover, but the name is almost certainly an alias," Celestia grumbled, her eyes dancing across the reports scattered atop the table.

Iridia thought for a moment, then shook her head.

"I'm afraid I can't help," Iridia sighed, again moving towards the exit. "I'd need concrete specifics; pictures, her real name, date of birth, so-on and so-forth. And then I could only tell you things like her parents, grand-parents and such. I can't just pluck her location out of the Aether. Not unless she was an expecting mother, or if I could remember the divination Scrying, or would Discern Location be more appropriate?" Iridia sighed then shook her head slowly.

"You can't remember the spells?" Luna asked, her brows shooting up into her ethereal mane. "But, you invented half the Divinations."

Shrinking down, her ears falling flat against her head, Iridia muttered something about being old, forgetful, and locked in stone for centuries. A dark shade of crimson touched her cheeks and she stared at a very interesting pebble sitting beside one of the table's legs.

"What about you?" Iridia peeked through the bangs of her mane at her nieces. "Don't either of you remember the spells?"

Celestia and Luna both shared bemused looks, before Celestia said, "Divination isn't a separate field of magical study anymore, Auntie. It hasn't been since the Third Magical Reformation in the second century, Equestrian Reckoning. Since then the spells have slowly been lost. I did try to Scry, with no success."

"Well, that's a shame," Iridia gave a weary sigh. Holding open the tent flap with her magic, she added, "I hope you find her. An alicorn filly left unprotected is in great danger," before slipping out into the day.

Moving back to the table, Luna sat down with a resigned thump. She scanned the reports again, but her mind was too pre-occupied. Iridia's visit had brought up too many memories, some good, others too painful to bear. She looked down at her hooves, and for a moment she thought she saw crimson stains. It was just a trick of the light, a shadow cast on her dark coat, but it still made Luna's heart race and her breaths become short. Snorting and shaking her head to clear the cobwebs, Luna turned to address Celestia.

She found Celestia staring at her, a distant glazed look in her eyes. Snapping out of her thoughts, Celestia cast a dismissive glance about the tent.

"Well, I think we've neglected our courts long enough, Lulu. We are getting nowhere searching like this," Celestia gestured to the reports.

"Maybe what we need is to try a different tact, sister," Luna said, her mind still on the events of her cousin's death, or rather, how she'd found the cave. "Somepony is looking after her, and they need food and shelter, just like any other pony. Even if they had some way to hide her appearance, we both know dozens of spells capable of such a thing, they'd still have to enter or travel through villages. So far we've been trying to keep her a secret, to keep her safe."

"You're not suggesting we tell ponies about her, are you?" Celestia's voice made it clear how little she thought of the idea. "If any of the Great Houses got their hooves on her, you know they'd try to use her in some way to gain favour or power."

"How do we know one of them doesn't have her? We can't rule out the Dust, Swirl, Almanac, or Warder Houses from having her even now. All of them have access to unicorns practiced or skilled enough to be able to hide her." Luna waved a dismissive hoof. "But that's not what I meant. I was trying to get at using the Arbiters and Mayors. Put out word that a small filly has gone missing and there is a reward, or something, for her return."

Celestia tapped a hoof to her chin as she thought the idea over.

Luna knew what was probably going through her sister's mind. Ponies went missing more often than either liked. The causes were as varied as the ponies themselves, with everything from animal attacks in rural areas to foalnapping in the cities. It was still, thankfully, uncommon, no more than a half-dozen going missing in a year.

"Okay, but we need to keep it low-key," Celestia finally relented. "We're getting nowhere like this and have probably raised a lot of suspicion already in Canterlot. Hopefully all the gossip about Tyr has kept the nobles busy."

Luna snorted her thoughts on the likelihood of the nobles having not noticed the princesses' absence.

A short time later the small camp was packed up and the princesses returned to Canterlot.

Only a few miles to the south Trixie and Shyara sat cooking dandelion soup over a camp-fire, both finally relaxing.

* * *

The salty spray of the ocean rushing up over Bellerophon's bow splashed into Twilight’s mane and face with every wave. Bending their knees to absorb the shock as the ship finished its fall and began to rise on the swell, Twilight and Pinkie both let out long joyous laughs.

“Best. Adventure. Yet!” Pinkie shouted, one fetlock wrapped around a shroud while she hung precariously above the frothing white water racing passed the ship’s hull. Over one side of her face she wore a black eye-patch with a skull and bones motif on the front.

Only minutes before Twilight had put the stars to bed. She should have gone to bed herself, but the rush and excitement had yet to leave her even after a week of sailing. Twilight wanted to spend every moment she could out on the deck. The ship felt alive as the brisk north-north-west breeze rushed over her decks.

Around Twilight and Pinkie flowed the sailors and crew of H.M.S. Bellerophon as the old 74 gun ship-of-the-line raced across the Equis Ocean. To the ship’s lee could be seen the islands of Marelantis, home of the Kestrel Pegasi. Somewhere ahead, far beyond the horizon, were the Cardinals, and beyond them the continent of Zebrica. As the ship lifted up high on the crest of a wave, Twilight fluttered her wings a little to lift her front hooves off the wooden deck, hoping to see the peak of Greater Cardinal. She knew it was impossible, the Cardinals were well over a thousand nautical miles away still; a journey of weeks for Bellerophon.

But knowledge did little to stop the fluttering in her heart and belly as the ship buried her bowsprit into a wave sending gallons of water rushing along her deck and over the two mares.

“Lady Pinkamena, Princess Twilight, I’m going to have to request that you return to your quarters,” Captain Hardy hollered over the wind rushing through the rigging, the huge stallion’s wiry light brown mane plastered to the side of his face beneath his simple hat. The blue frock coat he had worn when Twilight was brought aboard had been replaced by a simple rain coat. “Or at the very least step back to the quarter-deck with Ambassador de Lis and Lady Rainbow.”

“If you think it best,” Twilight called back, taking a moment to shake off some of the salt-spray. “Come on, Pinkie.”

Practically skipping, Pinkie didn’t even pout or complain as she joined Twilight at the railing on the port side of the quarter-deck. Twilight had been amazed with how quickly Pinkie had taken to life aboard ship. She had to have been born with sea legs; the moment Twilight and her small detachment of guards and retainers were aboard Pinkie had joined the sailors up in the rigging to loose the sails. The ship’s Master had even mistaken her for one of the crew and threatened to stop her grog when she’d started singing a sea shanty.

The same could not be said for Dash, Fleur, or any of the Royal Guard Detachment. Dash, in particular, stood at the railing, her face an aqua-marine in colour rather than its usual cerulean blue. Every few moments she’d dry heave, her wretched moans crossing the ship’s deck. Looking up with red rimmed eyes at Twilight’s and Pinkie’s approach, the pegasus moaned, “Please, kill me now. Letting me linger like this is just cruel.”

“Oh, come on Dashie, this is great!” Pinkie wrapped a hoof around her friend’s shoulder, the motion sending Dash back to the rail where she dry heaved again. “Still no sea legs, Dashie?”

Pinkie was answered by her friend's continued retching.

“How are you holding up, Fleur?” Twilight asked after giving Rainbow a sympathetic look.

Fleur, while not as green looking as Dash, clung to the railing for dear life, her back legs shaking so badly her knees almost knocked together. She gave Twilight a tepid smile, and muttered, “I-I’ll be fine, your majesty. I am just not too fond of the water.” Clutching the railing tighter as the ship pitched suddenly, Fleur added, “He’s not going to fire those Tartarus damned cannons again, is he? Le capitaine, that is?

“Not this afternoon, swells to high, and the way the barometer looks this weather will be with us another few days at least.” Striding easily across the swaying deck, the captain said, “Come, why don’t you go below and get both of your friends settled in—.”

“Ahoy, the deck, sail!” A strong voice called down from the top of the foremast carrying clear across the ship.

“Where away, Miss Pin?” Captain Hardy bellowed, turning and in a flash of his short horn, pulling out a brass looking glass.

“Two points off to port by the bow, sir.”

A sullen anticipatory silence grasped the ship, those who were able slid closer to the captain as he leveled his looking glass. Twilight cast a quick glance to her friends; Pinkie looked thrilled, Fleur was terrified, and Rainbow continued to almost droop down the ship’s side. Chewing on her lip a little, Twilight approached the captain.

“Can you see her sails?” Captain Hardy shouted, his deep voice almost knocking Twilight back with its force. “Is it a Kestrel fishing boat, mayhaps?”

“Ship, sir, hull down and running fast with the wind. Frigate from the looks of her.”

The anticipation among the crew grew, a few smiling and nudging each other while nodding towards Twilight. It had become apparent almost as soon as they left Baltimare that the Bellerophon's crew thought of Twilight as something of a good luck charm. Pinkie, who had taken to eating her food among the crew in addition to all her other antics, told Twilight that a hat the princess rescued from being blown overboard on the second day was being put into a small shrine near the chain lockers. Twilight really didn’t need Pinkie to know as much, the number of prayers in her name on the ship had increased exponentially. As the captain continued to search for the mysterious sail Twilight’s ears twitched towards no less than a dozen prayers.

“Got her,” the captain said to himself, then added to nearby midshippony, “Miss Tracer Round, the lead, if you please.”

Saluting, the pony, who looked like she was barely old enough to have a cutie mark, rushed to perform the order. Clicking her tongue, Twilight made the mental note to speak to Celestia about the navy’s recruitment policies when she returned home. She’d made the note at least two dozen times already, but it never hurt to be thorough. The midshippony quickly returned, saying the ship was moving at 8 knots.

Twilight continued to watch as a series of orders were given. Sailors scrambled up the shrouds into the masts and out onto the yard-arms. A drum began to beat, rousing the entire ship’s compliment. In a flash the deck was cleared for action, the long and jolly boats lowered over the side and the ship trembled as her guns were primed. Through it all, Captain Hardy remained staring across the heaving ocean towards the other ship, a predatory grin on his face.

Cresting a wave, Twilight finally saw the other ship as it emerged out of a short squall, the grey sheets of rain parting to white canvass sails and a blue painted hull. She was smaller than the Bellerophon, a single decker and mounting only half the number of guns. From her masthead flew a black flag, and beneath it a white pennant emblazoned with a golden serpent whipped and snapped in the gusting wind.

“It’s the Sea Serpent alright,” chuckled a mare beside Twilight that looked older than her parents. “The ship of Bloodrose ‘Bonnie’ Belle. Twenty three years she been on these seas hunted by the entire Royal Navy, and now she comes to us when we got a Princess aboard. Discord himself be at the wheel of that ship.”

Twilight gaped after the old sailor as she went back to her duties. Turning back to the captain, she saw Hardy had been joined by his First Lieutenant. Over the spray and happy rumble of the ship, Twilight listened to their short conversation.

“We can’t fight them, not when they have the weather gage and we have one of the Princesses aboard.”

“She’s the faster ship, Spirit.” Hardy pointed out, his unwavering eye on his enemy. “They have us by the hip, and I will not turn and run just to be chased down. I don’t trust them not to have a few friends waiting for us near the Marelantians, either. They’d have us well before nightfall, regardless.”

“How’d they find us?”

“It’s been long rumoured that the pirates have spies in Canterlot. No use dwelling on it now. See to the Princess and her friends.”

“Aye sir,” Spirit gave a quick crisp salute before turning to Twilight. “Princess, I’m going to have to insist that you and your friends go below.”

“No.” Twilight was surprised how forceful her voice sounded.

Fleur and Rainbow both were half-way to the hatch that would lead them to the cockpit, a dank area of the ship where the midshipmare and various officers berthed located just before the mizzen mast and below the waterline. Both stopped and gave Twilight curious looks until a wave slapped against the ship’s side. Fleur fell to the deck, grasping a crewmare by the neck while Rainbow turned and dove for the railing as sea sickness claimed her again. Pinkie had vanished entirely.

“I can help. I’m a sixth level Abjurer and Enchanter.”

“I don’t care if you could call your blasted stars down like meteors to blast that ship to splinters,” Hardy snarled, addressing Twilight for the first time since the sails of the Sea Serpent had been spotted, “it’s my duty to protect you. You don’t know the first thing about magical-naval combat, Princess. So get to the cockpit where you’ll be safe!”

Twilight’s ears flicked back against her head at the venom in the normally composed captain’s voice. Setting her jaw and widening her stance, Twilight made it clear that if the captain wanted her to go to the dark and fetid cockpit he was going to have to order his crew to drag her. For a few moments Twilight expected him to do just that, and then the Sea Serpent flashed out a dizzying number of pennants and flags, punctuating them with a gun.

“Code Book, what is she saying?” Hardy shouted to a junior officer.

Taking out her own looking glass, the officer peered at the flags for a few moments as the distance between the two ships continued to close. “’Truce. Hail the crown. Honour the sea.” Lowering her looking glass, Code Book gave her captain a puzzled look. “What does that mean?”

“It means they know we carry one of the princesses and we won’t engage them without being provoked,” Hardy snorted, snapping his looking glass closed. “Keep the mares at quarters, but the guns housed. I don’t want to be caught with my tail in the air if this is all a trick. Strike the topgallants as well. Let’s have a nice leisurely sail.”

“Aye sir, quarters, guns housed, and strike the topgallants.”

Closer and closer the two ships drew until less than a hundred yards separated the two. Twilight and the others were told two more times to head below, but she continued to stand her ground. Her gaze fixed on the Sea Serpent as the pirate frigate continued to approach the Equestrian Ship-of-the-Line until they were close enough that their yardarms almost touched as the ships swayed on the sea.

Through the rabble of ponies hanging on the rails of the Sea Serpent Twilight could see the pirate captain. Her long red coat and white duck trousers would have made Rarity faint with their out-dated style, and the tri-cornered hat on the mare’s head only heightened the perception. Streaming out from under the hat was a long mane of soft velvet and cobalt blue. A reddish-pink glow surrounded the pirate captain’s pink muzzle.

“Captain Hardy, been ages since we last bumped into each other. How’ve you been keeping?” The pirate’s thick mid-western accent almost knocked Twilight to the deck, both from its volume and the surprise of hearing it from the supposedly dastardly sea pirate.

“Bloodrose ‘Bonnie’ Belle, it’s a pleasure to see you again. Last I heard you were terrorising the coast of Germane.”

“That was over three years ago. Me and the girls here have been having a bit of sport the last while with them nice, slow Trotuguese merchant vessels loaded to the brim with silver and gold from the southern Zebrican mines. Then I got the most fascinating letter from my eldest daughter and the stars started doing the craziest things, and I thought to myself, ‘Why, Bonnie, perhaps it’s time to head home and spend some time with the herd. It has been a year since you last saw your youngest, after-all. Maybe go pay the new princess a visit.’”

The crew of the Sea Serpent cackled and jeered, a few waving their bottoms in the air. Some of the Bellerophones responded in kind, until their captain called for silence on the deck.

“The guard would have you in irons the moment you set a hoof in Canterlot,” Captain Hardy responded, earning a cheer from his crew and booing from the pirates.

“You’d be amazed at the doors open to me, Hardy, oh, you’d be amazed.” Bonnie Belle laughed, throwing back her head. “And Princess,” sweeping off her hat, Bonnie Belle bowed, “I’ll be sure to give my daughters a hug from you. They are rare, sweet things, my fillies.”

Spilling the wind from her sails, the Sea Serpent slowly turned away and for the east, her sails turning her into a white tower before she disappeared over the horizon a little after the noon bell was struck. Twilight sat watching the pirate ship until she vanished. A helpful Bellerophon crewmare pointed out that she was technically a privateer, given that Sea Serpent was said to sail with papers from the Prance National Congress to conduct her bloody trade against enemies of the nation, which currently meant Trotugal.

What puzzled Twilight were Bonnie Belle’s final words and the uncertain feeling she’d met the mare before, but couldn’t place where or when.

A little after six bells, or three in the afternoon, Twilight found herself still staring towards where the Sea Serpent had vanished when she was approached by the captain and the ship’s surgeon.

“Ah, Princess, still up I see,” Hardy said as he took a sip of some coffee. Twilight had no taste for the strong drink, and crinkled her nose a little at its aroma. Dabbing a hard biscuit into the cup, the captain turned to the stallion at his side, “This is my good friend, Timely Crown, the ship’s physician.”

Twilight gave the mentioned stallion a cursory glance and found his watery blue eyes and short, almost shaved, brown mane sent a small shiver up her back. He was polite, bending a knee gracefully enough, but there was something unsettling about the way he watched Twilight, like he was appraising her as if she were a body on his operating table.

“I’ve been wondering captain, what would have happened if there had been a battle?” Twilight asked, again turning her gaze to the gently rolling ocean.

“Well, I suspect they’d have stayed at range, relying on their long eighteen pounders and any unicorns with skill in combat magic. With the weather gage, they could have kept their distance and we’d have been roughly equal, all things told. If we could close and use our thirty-two pound carronades, it’d be another story entirely. Why do you ask?”

“I just never realised how dangerous the sea could be. In Canterlot and Ponyville, we don’t hear much about the navy or sea travel,” Twilight sighed as she accepted a cup of tea from the captain’s steward. “You’ve mentioned the ‘weather gage’ a few times, what is it, exactly?”

“Plainly, it means the wind was in their favour and they could dictate the terms of an engagement. I believe that if you hadn’t been present it would have been a bloody mess. Then again, they probably would have steered clear under regular circumstances. No profit in attacking a ship of your majesties’ navy.” Finishing his coffee and hard biscuits, the captain turned his eye to the horizon. “You’d best get some rest, Princess. We’re headed towards a storm, and she’s going to be a big blow.”

Twilight tilted her head and gave a little frown. “Why would ponies make a storm out here?”

“Ponies? Ha! The Ocean makes her own weather without our influence or interference,” Hardy chuckled as he left to begin his routine pacing of the quarterdeck.

“It is true, your majesty,” Timely Crown gave a weak watery chuckle as he lit a pipe. “I scarcely believed it myself at first, but the entire ocean is like one giant Everfree Forest. My colleagues at Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns postulate it has to do with the ocean currents picking up and conducting Ley Energy in wild and chaotic ways, much how the Ley Line beneath the old Everfree Castle was wounded during the War of the Sun and Moon in five fifty-two. I confess, I never fully understood all the magic involved. I am more into birds and medicine, naturally.”

Twilight remained silent, not that Timely Crown seemed to notice, as the physician began to discuss all the different seabirds that lived near the Marelantians. He followed up by detailing all the problems and issues dealing with health and medicine aboard a so-called modern naval vessel. No power for any of the devices doctors used on land, few resources besides what herbs and lotions he could cram into his medicine chest. His greatest asset was a keen medical mind and a sharp saw in the event the ship entered battle. Truthfully, while Equestria as a whole had progressed, life on the seas hadn’t changed in hundreds of years, sea-going ponies being even more suspicious and opposed to change than even the most stubborn pony on land.

Eventually, Timely finished his pipe and headed below to check on his patients, the hard and dangerous life of sailing always keeping him busy. Twilight gulped the last of her, by that time, stone cold tea and left the railing.

The captain’s warning proved true. Long before Twilight needed to wake her stars the ship began to shudder and skip under fierce winds. With storm sails rigged and the topgallants struck to the deck, Bellerophon raced through the night and next day, making almost eleven knots at every heaving of the log.

Below deck, in the spacious main cabin, Rainbow Dash and Fleur both lay strapped into their cots. At some point the captain’s steward had discovered the ambassador whimpering in a corner, an empty bottle of merlot clutched in her hooves. Rainbow had been put into a deep sleep by the use of magic, ending her torment at the hooves of seasickness. Even Pinkie felt the effects of the storm, sitting with her head on a table in the junior officers mess, sliding back and forth with slow languid groans and complaining about the ocean being a big grumpy rump. Twilight’s body lay in her cot, while her mind drifted up to the stars. From her vantage point above the planet she could see the spinning disk of the storm and the distant lights of the villages and towns on the Marelantians.

Luna visited briefly at sunset and sunrise, but couldn’t stay long to chat. The stars gleefully took Luna’s place, sharing stories from various times and ages. Rukbat and Brachium had the most, having spent their nights watching over and listening to writers, poets, and bards. Eventually, Twilight and the stars went to sleep, the sun glowering at them as she began to rise at Celestia’s behest.

Dreams came quickly, and in their warm embrace Twilight was oblivious to the goings on of the ship as they continued through the lessening storm. She was still asleep as night shrouded the sea, only a firm breeze and a few heavy grey clouds remaining of the storm. Briefly, Twilight’s eyes fluttered open as she prodded Polaris before the princess rolled back over and let sleep claim her again. The pleasant and needed sleep was shattered by a sharp and screeching sound that echoed across the rolling waves.

“What was that?” Twilight groaned as she rolled out of her bed. Slipping on her shoes, Twilight stifled a yawn as she stepped out of the cabin and onto the deck. Near the starboard rail she saw Captain Hardy, a worried pinch to his brow as he swung his looking glass out across the sea. “Captain, what’s going on? Is it the pirates again?”

“Pirates? No, this is something much worse,” Hardy shook his loose mane before returning to his vigil as the noise came again.

The entire ship grew still and tense, the only noise the wind whistling through the rigging and the occasional slap of a wave against the ship’s side. A couple of the crew started to whisper fearful words and prayers in Twilight’s name. At her side appeared Fleur, Rainbow and Pinkie, the three mares rubbing sleep from their eyes.

Twilight was about to tease Rainbow hoping to alleviate some of the tension gripping the ship like a vice when a great fountain of water burst just off the ship’s side. From the heart of the water flowed a tower of white scales. Mouth falling open, Twilight could only stare as the tower coiled around itself, the head of a massive serpent held high as the Bellerophon's mainmast. Tendrils of steam belched and curled from the corners of the serpent’s mouth as it smiled down on the ship.

Maw gaping wide, the serpent lunged forward striking as fast as lightning. Wood shattered and the Bellerophon trembled as a great chunk was torn from her side leaving a gaping wound. Lines snapping like cord, the ship shuddered as her sails flapped in the wind, and then the serpent sunk back beneath the waves. Captain Hardy staggered back to his hooves bellowing orders to the crew. Turning to tell the princess to go below, as futile as the order had become, he saw instead the princess and her friends gone with only the hole in the ship’s side in their place.

Inside the serpent’s mouth, Twilight clung to Pinkie and Rainbow. Surrounded by absolute dark Twilight couldn’t see her own nose, let alone Fleur, if the mare was with them. She could feel the stars screaming her name, not in fear or hope, but in cold fury.

“Polaris!” Twilight shouted trying to reach the Lodestar.

A sharp pressure jabbed into the base of Twilight's horn, making her gasp. She tried reaching the lodestar again, but found the connection buzzing like a swarm of bees had entered her ears. She could hear the stars, and feel their magic, but it was as if a great chasm had opened between them, and in that chasm two massive eyes like swirling nebulas stared back at Twilight. It was only for an instant, the eyes vanishing as Twilight blinked and groped for the stars, making her wonder if she'd imagined the eyes.

Her attempts at contacting the stars were interrupted by a flick of the serpent’s mammoth tongue as it pressed Twilight and her friends against its teeth. The realization that she was about to die and be eaten along with two of her best friends slammed into Twilight. While terrified about the experience of dying, she was somewhat comforted by the idea that she’d probably reincarnate, maybe. By Luna’s own admission, she knew of no alicorn that had gone through the process, so it was all just theoretical. Being eaten by a giant sea serpent wasn’t how Twilight wanted to test the theory. Not that it would matter if she somehow survived, two of her oldest friends and a new one would be dead.

Forcing down her fear as the screams of Pinkie and Fleur assaulted her ears, Twilight began to charge her horn. With no time for anything fancy, Twilight lashed out with a simple telekinetic punch. Around the four ponies the serpent’s cheeks bulged and its teeth rattled, but Twilight’s magic did little else. Straining harder and changing tactics, Twilight gave a deep guttural growl as she tapped into the lines of energy connected to her magic pool.

Cold collapsed in around the four ponies for less than the flicker of a star, and then they appeared several hoof lengths above the water.

Twilight and Rainbow both thrust their wings open, and with a quick succession of flaps kept themselves from plunging into the water. Pinkie and Fleur were not so lucky, both mares screaming, one with excitement, the other in abject terror, before falling beneath the rolling sea with a pair of splashes. Twilight twisted and spun, her head darting around as she tried to spot the two mares.

“Over there!” Rainbow shouted, a single powerful thrust of her wings sending her blazing across the choppy waves.

Struggling more in the last lingering wind of the storm, Twilight fought to follow her cyan friend.

“Hey Dashie,” Pinkie called waving a single fore-leg, the other wrapped around a visibly trembling and struggling Fleur. Pinkie’s teeth chattered like she’d been outside all night in mid-winter. “This adventure is becoming a little less fun, Twi,” she added as Twilight back-winged into a sloppy hover.

“I know, I’m sorry. Here, let me help you two out of the water.” Twilight lit her horn with magic and picked Pinkie and Fleur up in a soft pink bubble. Straining her wings towards their untested limits, Twilight slowly began to fly higher, encouraged on by Rainbow. She needed to get them all back to the ship, and into warm blankets.

Though it wasn’t exactly cold, their latitude being just north of the tropics; the currents combined with the storm made the water in the mid-Equis to be close to freezing. With the wind-chill, they were all in trouble. Not to mention they were completely lost. The lingering clouds meant Twilight couldn’t see the stars, and the stars couldn’t see her. She knew that there was no land for hundreds of miles in any direction. Rainbow and her wouldn’t be able to fly that far, they weren’t Kestrel Pegasi, who could cover such ocean distances with ease.

“Uh, Twi, what happened to the boat?” Rainbow asked, a sharp tinge of concern in her words.

“It should be right over... there?” Twilight’s mouth dropped open as she turned to the direction she thought the Bellerophon should have been.

Flapping her wings harder to gain some more altitude, Twilight spun in circles desperately scanning for the ship. There was nothing. No masts and pennants flying tall and proud in the early night. Just the slap and roll of the waves and inky walls of night.

“Polaris, Regulas, I need your help!” Twilight shouted as Rainbow joined her.

We are all here, Mistress, answered the lodestar. Her words came fast, almost tripping over each other, and were forced, like the star was having to yell across whatever was trying to block the connection they shared.

“I need your help finding—,”

“Twi, dive!” Rainbow yelled, tucking her wings to her sides and colliding with the princess.

Twilight didn’t have time to reprimand her friend before she felt her left wing explode with searing pain. A low scream hung in the fading storm. Desperately, Twilight tried to regain some semblance of control over her flight, only for her left wing to prove unresponsive. Closer and closer the water drew, waiting to welcome all four mares with its icy embrace.

Use Watertouch, mistress, Regulas’s voice sliced through the fear and pain, jarring Twilight to quick action.

Purple light burst from her horn and up into the clouds, tingeing them an ugly cruel colour. As the magic began to fade, Twilight pulled Pinkie and Fleur in close. Turning around, she did the last thing she had time to accomplish, she tensed herself for the impact. She plowed into the water, digging a deep hole, like a stone tossed into a snow bank, but not breaking the water’s surface to plunge into the cold sea. Little pains and aches joined those in her wing as the hole they’d created began to shrink and retake its original shape, lifting the group back to the surface. Pinkie giggled as they found themselves laying on top of the rolling ocean.

“Okay, adventure is fun again!” she laughed, jumping up and down, the water acting like a trampoline.

“Pinkie, we don’t have time to play. Twi is hurt,” Rainbow snapped, as she pulled Fleur off Twilight.

All semblance of irreverent behavior left Pinkie, her mane smoothing ever so slightly. With a quick nod, she trotted across the waves to help Rainbow pick up Twilight and Fleur. The ambassador was staring at the water under her hooves, her eyes tiny pinpricks in her head, her lips moving soundlessly as she repeated words only she could hear over and over.

Twilight didn’t dare move, and gave a sharp intake of breath when Rainbow touched her wing. She refused to look, knowing that whatever had hit her had done some terrible damage. Rainbow’s cursing and the tears that began to stream down Pinkie’s face, the party pony’s mane going perfectly straight, confirmed her fears.

Instead, she asked, “What hit me?”

“I saw that big snake spit... something... at us. It’s so dark even I only barely noticed in time.”

Grinding her teeth together, Twilight slapped a hoof to her face. “Condensed super-heated balls of steam. It’s not a snake, Dash, it’s a Sea Serpent.” Slowly getting to her hooves with Rainbow's help, and finding her balance precarious from both the pain and the ocean’s rolling waves, Twilight added, “We need to get moving. Find someplace safe. That thing is still out there and probably knows where we are.”

Biting the inside of her cheek to help manage the pain, Twilight tried to come up with a plan.

Teleporting was out of the question; both to the Bellerophon or to land. She needed to know where she was going and visualise her destination. While she could clearly picture the ship's deck, she didn't know where it was. The closest point that Twilight felt confident she could reach with a long-range teleport was Canterlot. Such a distance wasn't out of her reach, not since Awakening, but the time spent within the field of Aether would be almost a minute. With the absolute cold and their coats soaking wet, the likelihood of freezing to death or blacking out and being lost inside the magical Ley Lines were too high to risk.

They could try to fight the sea serpent, but cold, hurt, and with little chance to strike at their attacker, trying to fight was even more foolish than teleporting.

From around them the sea bubbled and laughed, a deep menacing chuckle timed to a large white waving cresting and breaking to reveal the long spiny back of the serpent only a few yards away from the ponies. Behind them, two jets of steam erupted like geysers.

'Its toying with us,' Twilight realised as she did some quick calculations to figure out the sea serpents size, and concluding it had to be over two hundred hooves in length.

"Dash, can you fly?" Twilight asked out of the side of her mouth as a shadow passed underneath them.

"Of course," Rainbow puffed out her chest.

"Take Pinkie and—," Twilight was cut off as the sea serpent rose out of the water, a deep rending roar echoing from its cavernous mouth, less than three lengths in front of her. Twilight's eyes darted left and right quickly, looking for some sign of help in the empty ocean, and seeing none, before shouting, "Everypony, duck!"

Twilight called on her magic, magenta light streaming through her horn. Around them appeared a shell of brilliant energy that lit up the night like a beacon. As soon as the shield appeared, it flashed and let out a deep 'thoom' as the serpent spat out a ball of steam that exploded against the protective magic. Twilight's face twitched a little, the feedback reaching into her horn like an ant crawling across her skin. Again, she found herself silently thanking the increase to her pool of magic. In quick succession the serpent fired several more balls of steam, each exploding against Twilight's shield and creating a rolling field of fog.

Beads of sweat began to prickle her brow, not from strain, but from worry. She estimated she'd be able to maintain the shield for at least until morning. The trouble was they couldn't stay standing in the middle of the ocean. Eventually, Twilight would tire or make a mistake.

Rainbow was pawing at the water gently lapping the inside wall of the shield, while Pinkie sat holding Fleur as the ambassador continued to be lost in her own fear. Neither of her friends would be able to fight the serpent. More and more, Teleporting was looking like her only option. She was about to tell Rainbow and Pinkie to take a deep breath when, through the fog, she saw a rippling wave of orange flashes break the night.

"Huh?" Twilight said moments before a series of loud bangs echoed over the water.

What followed was a dull crash and huff as hundreds of iron balls each the size of a cherry slapped into the water, Twilight's shield, and the serpent. Several of the large scales on the serpent's neck cracked or were chipped off creating a small hole in its armour. Roaring, the serpent turned and dived, its spines breaking the waves as it swam towards the source of the attack. Twilight almost allowed herself to sigh in relief and relax as she dropped her shield and began to cast a short range teleport. There was only one source for the iron balls and flashes, and that told her which way she could find the Bellerophon. In twin bursts of pink light, Twilight pulled herself and her friends the short distance across the water, landing with a wet thump on the ship's rolling deck.

"Double time, lasses, double time!" roared the Captain as the four mares appeared on the Bellerophon's quarterdeck.

Captain Hardy turned towards the magic, a cross expression on his face, one that melted into concern as he saw the mares' bedraggled appearances. To his left stood Lieutenant Prism Flux, the officer in charge of Twilight's guard detail. The white dyed unicorn stood in his golden armour next to a group naval battle-mages in bright red coats.

"Princess," Hardy and Prism both shouted at the same time, the captain darting forward to stabilise Twilight as a sudden lurch coupled with the searing pain in her wing threatened to send her sprawling across the deck. Hardy took in the condition of the four, clucked his tongue disapprovingly, and called for a midshipmare to take them below.

For once Twilight didn't argue or object.

They were lead down decks, past gun crews furiously stuffing shot and powder into their weapons, and into the small, cramped, and musty medical bay. Timely Crown barely looked up from a pony on his table, a saw clutched in his magic, and the patient held down by a burly assistant. Above them the ship shook from the roar of her cannons, and from the sea serpent. Twilight sat with a dull thump, leaning back against a bulkhead. Rainbow sat to her left, the athlete's face white under her coat, while Fleur was laid in a swinging hammock, inaudibly muttering.

The sound of the saw biting into bone coupled with the pony on the table screaming through the leather bit shoved into her mouth made Twilight clench her eyes shut. A moment later she felt more then heard the operation, if such a barbaric act could be called such, as Timely Crown laid the saw aside and used a spell to put his patient into a controlled sleep. Out came a needle and thread, and with stitching that Rarity would have been proud of, if it had been in a dress and not the stump of a leg, sewed the wound shut. The pony, moaning in her induced sleep, was then taken to one of the many hammocks in the medical bay.

Twilight didn't see Timely finish the operation, but she did note his hooves approach Fleur's hammock.

Cracking an eye open, Twilight watched as Timely shone a light from his horn into Fleur's eyes, and then nodded to himself.

"Your friend is going to be alright. She's just beside herself with fear, from the looks of things. A few drops of laudanum will set her at ease," he said, his voice rather jovial in spite of the grim surroundings. Around them the ship shook again, and Twilight detected the tang of magic being added to the assault. "Would you be a dear and let me look at your wing?"

Barely even acknowledging the request, Twilight extended her wings, wincing as a dull throb echoed through her body.

"Remarkable," Timely muttered, lifting a pair of spectacles to his nose and a lantern up to shine more light on Twilight's wing. "Burns from Leviathan himself, truly remarkable." Lowering his lantern, Timely indicated that Twilight should follow him to the table.

Looking between the blood soaked sand on the decks to the even bloodier table, Twilight felt her stomach lurch, her eyes shrinking to pin-pricks.

"You're not going to cut off my wing, are you?" she almost screeched the question.

Timely looked baffled for a moment, then shook his head.

"Celestia, no! Such actions are only done when the life of the patient would be forfeit without a quick stroke of the saw. I simply want to apply a salve that will ease the pain and assist with healing. Nothing more, on my honour."

Still feeling apprehensive, and looking to Rainbow and Pinkie, only to find the pink pony missing, for support, Twilight begrudgingly trotted into the better light. Rainbow followed, shooting the doctor a look that said in no uncertain terms that she'd end him if he tried to hurt Twilight. He took it in stride, lifting a pungent smelling ointment from his medicine chest and spreading it conservatively across Twilight's burnt wing.

At once a cooling sensation began to spread through the limb, and Twilight almost wilted in relief.

While the medicine was being spread a stillness settled over the ship. The slap of water on her wooden sides and the gentle groan of her timbers the only sounds so deep inside her. Several more ponies were brought down into the medical bay, all suffering from burns. Twilight cringed, wishing she knew of a spell that could heal.

But no such spell existed.

Many unicorns had tried over the years to create healing spells, but they always came with terrible side effects. Attempts had been abandoned even before the War of the Sun and Moon.

Mistress, are you alright? asked Polaris, the lodestar's voice soft with concern and a hint of sadness.

"I'm okay," Twilight said, drawing a look from Timely.

Rainbow shook her head as the doctor opened his mouth to ask who Twilight was talking to, saying, "Don't bother, she's not paying attention to us. She's busy with them." Rainbow pointed a roof upwards as she spoke.

The clouds have begun to clear, and it looks like the sea serpent has left. Polaris shifted a little, her colour dull and listless. I'm sorry we were of no help.

"Yeah, why couldn't you help?" Twilight tilted her head a little as if the star could see her puzzled expression. "My head would buzz if I tried to talk to you."

I... don't know. Polaris admitted, growing even more downcast. Whatever was the cause is gone now.

Twilight's face fell, a slight tick in the corner of one eye. She didn't know what was more troubling, the idea that the Bellerophon had just been attacked by a sea serpent, or that something was capable of blocking her stars from coming to her aid. On the edge of a panic attack, her breaths coming in quick gulps Twilight found her mind unable to settle as, eventually, she and her friends were allowed back into the main cabin.

They found Pinkie sitting there, her face covered with soot and a sloppy grin on her face.

In a daze, Twilight was pushed into her cot as she came to a conclusion. There was only one creature that could interfere with an alicorn's ability, as far as she knew. Discord. But he was trapped in stone back in Canterlot. Trembling as she pulled her sheets up to her chin, Twilight wondered if, perhaps, another Draconequus was out there, waiting, watching. As she drifted off into a fitful sleep, Twilight failed to see a pair of massive twinkling eyes watching her through the large stern windows of the ship.

Chapter Ten: Ask Not The Stars...

Myths and Birthrights

By Tundara

Part Two: Tremors in the East

Chapter Ten: Ask Not The Stars...

Night wrapped itself around the world, the stars taking up their nightly dances even as the creatures of the day far below crawled into their beds. Those stars that didn't join in the dance instead took up vigils, eyeless gazes turned towards the corners and places that interested them the most.

A few of the stars, a very small few, gathered their magic and followed the link down to Twilight Sparkle. The sleeping alicorn, her wing bandaged, tossed fitfully in her cot as small specks of light detached from her mane and shot off into the night. The few wayward stars felt guilty about hiding their newfound ability to manifest in the world below from their Mistress. They comforted themselves with the knowledge that Twilight did know about it, just not the extent of the stars abilities to visit the world below.

Three in particular, Ankaa, Phad and Antares, had shown the Mistress their ability to appear among ponies. Guilt and anger rankled among the three stars as they flitted out of Twilight's mane and shot out through Bellerophon's main cabin window. They, more keenly than any of their sisters, felt shamed and enraged over their failure to protect Twilight from the sea serpent.

For a moment Antares paused, turning to watch the three other ponies sleeping beside her mistress. The pink and blue ones she quickly turned away from and ignored. Instead, the star approached the fourth mare, the one containing part of the soul or essence of an alicorn. Antares could see she was dreaming, eyes flicking back and forth behind closed lids. Curious, the star drifted down lower, touching the unicorn's sleeping mind.

She backed away at once, shocked by the connections and the magic fueling them, that she had felt at the brief touch. It was so very familiar, yet wrong, like a song that was being played out of tune. No, that was wrong, Antares decided, it was more like all the instruments had been changed.

Ankaa and Phad calling her name drew Antares to the window. She made a note to mention her discovery to Twilight once the mistress had awoken from her healing slumber. For the moment, she had a sea serpent to hunt. Casting one last concerned look back, she raced off into the night, a small speck of light buzzing low over gentle lapping waves.

In her cot, Fleur rolled over clutching the thin blanket closer about her.

It was not a particularly important dream in the scheme of things. There were no great events, no dark conquests or battles, no encounters with terrible beings or warlords.

Murmuring to herself, Fleur began to wriggle and moan, a hoof occasionally kicking as if she was trying to run. The kicking slowed and the ambassador began to calm, the moaning turning back into contented sighs.

She remained like this, a couple legs dangling over the side of the swinging cot, a tight smile on her sleeping face, for a several minutes. Then, eyes bursting open, she darted upright, the motion causing the cot to swing violently and send her tumbling to the deck with a groan and clatter.

Almost immediately the cabin's door was thrust open, the head of a royal guard entering the room, his eyes darting to every corner and shadow in search of a threat to his princess until they settled on the moaning pile of sheets and pillows on the floor.

"Ma'am, you alright?" the guard asked, his voice and face a mask of practiced indifference.

"Oui, ca va bien," Fleur managed to respond as she dragged herself upright and towards the large desk overlooking the wide stern windows.

Scrolls and books on Zebrica and Griffonia covered much of its surface, with weights carefully placed so the papers wouldn't go flying with every motion of the ship. Sitting down as she rubbed sleep from her eyes, Fleur opened one of the desk's drawers and retrieved her dream journal. Flipping the book open, over three quarters of its pages full, she reached for a quill and inkwell.

Realizing the guard hadn't moved from the door yet, Fleur looked back up and frowned over her shoulder.

"You may go, Monsieur," She said, a faint note of exasperation pulling at her still groggy voice. "I'm quite alright."

"Yes, ma'am," came the expected response, the door starting to swing shut.

Just before the latch clicked, Fleur had a sudden realization, and called out, "If the galley is lit, I'd greatly appreciate a pot of tea."

"Of course, ma'am."

Click, the door went, and Fleur bent over her journal, her quill already dancing as it detailed the latest, and possibly last, dream.

Far away from the ship bobbing gently in the ocean, beyond the Crystalspine Mountain and deep in the ancient northern forest, the dark apparition known as Puff paused in its hunt. Turning to the south it lifted a hoof, searching for something that had vanished. Gone was a silver string of magic that had brought comfort to the entity. Throwing back its head, the apparition let out a piercing howl as if the Gates of Tartarus had been opened. The monsters and fiends that called the forest home all shrunk back from the sound, fearful of the creature that could make such a cry.

"Protect. Must protect the others," the smoke muttered as the howl ended, turning back to the north. Somewhere ahead was another like itself, somewhere ahead it would find one suitable for protecting those that couldn't protect themselves.

* * *

Bellerophon was filled with the rap-tap-tap of hammers and chisels as the ship's crew set about repairing the damage caused by the sea serpent. Long gouges from the serpents claws had been tended to along the port side, and the gaping hole mended with a speed and efficiency that surprised Twilight as she walked back and forth along the stern railing. The strong pungent smell of mariners paint wafted across the deck as brushes restored the yellow and black stripes along Bellerophon's sides. She marveled at how quickly the crew of Earth Ponies and Unicorns managed to repair the ship.

The Butcher's Bill, as the captain had so blithely called the casualty report, had been shockingly light as well. In addition to the one amputation there had been a few splinter wounds and broken bones, and a gun crew had suffered burns when their weapon overheated in the furious exchange, but otherwise everypony was fine. Not a single death among the ship, which had surprised Captain Hardy. He'd taken the report stoically, returning to his pacing along the quarterdeck even amidst the hustle of repairs, side stepping or turning around repair crews.

The crew had smiled and cackled as a whole, more than a few saying prayers to Twilight, Celestia, and Luna as they hurried about their duties. To fight a dreaded Sea Serpent and come off so handsomely was almost unheard of in the annuls of the ocean.

More amazing than the restoration of Bellerophon was Twilight's own recovery.

The crew had been beside itself with anxiety and concern when word spread of the princess' injury. Many took to smoking their tobacco around the skylight set above the princess' cabin. Several times the ship's Master or one of the officers had to chase the loitering crewmares back to work, only for they themselves to stop and try to peer through the tinted glass into the cabin below. Each time Doctor Crown entered or left the cabin he found himself surrounded by a gaggle of curious ponies. Not surrounded in the traditional sense, but rather all ears flicked in his direction and he felt the full weight of the attention of over a hundred ponies descend on his every movement and word, only once he was safely ensconced back in his cabin with his journals did he breath.

Twilight spent a day and a half nearly comatose tied down in her cot. Much to the astonishment of the Officer of the Watch, she stepped out of the cabin the next morning, stretched her fully healed wings and asked for a cup of tea. In a flash the steward was roused from his hammock and forcibly pushed by no less than a third of the mid-morning watch into the Captain's Galley. Under the stern eye of the gunner and her mates, he brewed a quick cup of chamomile with three drops of rich golden honey —long since discovered to be the princess' preferred blend— toasted some bread, applied an apple jam to the crisp brown slices and hurried out onto the deck with the princess' breakfast.

It was under these happy conditions that Bellerophon shook out her sails, caught a brisk northern breeze and set off once more towards the distant Zebrican shore.

Just before the Noon Bell was struck Pinkie and Rainbow emerged from the cabin, a cringing and almost distraught Fleur trailing in their wake. Her customary bounce once more in her step, Pinkie bounded up to Twilight, and almost over the stern railing as the ship lurched.

"Whee!" Pinkie giggled and snorted as she was caught in Twilight's magic and plonked down onto the deck.

"Pinkie, how many times do you need to be reminded to be more careful?" Twilight asked, but there was no bite or anger in her words.

"Silly Twi, the boats have been let out and are trailing the ship." Pinkie pointed over the stern railing to where, sure enough, the ship's boats trailed, attached by thick lines. "You can even see that stuffy doctor in one. Hiya Doctor Stuffy!" Pinkie waved a hoof to the larger jolly boat and her single occupant, the doctor more focused on the nets he had cast from the boat than the ponies on the ship.

Giving her friend a level glare, Twilight sighed, "That's not the point, Pinkie. "

"I know," her friend responded, a moment of clarity flashing behind her baby blue eyes before she was again bounding across the rolling deck, a sea shanty dancing from her tongue.

Twilight just snapped a hoof up to her face at Pinkie's antics. A part of her, a very large part, admitted she'd be more worried if Pinkie ever didn't act in a frivolous and care-free manner. Leaving Pinkie to her own devices, Twilight instead focused on Rainbow and Fleur.

Rainbow, while still looking a little on the queasy side, seemed to have gotten over the worst of her sea-sickness. Fleur looked to have her mind elsewhere, enough so that her paralyzing fear of the ocean wasn't causing her to latch onto the nearest object for dear life. The ambassador simply sat a polite distance from Twilight, her sight fixated on the horizon, a pensive frown pulling at the corners of her mouth.

"The two of you seem to be doing better," Twilight commented when the silence began to grow oppressive.

"Yeah, I think I'm finally getting the hang of this sailing thing," Rainbow grunted. "Sea sickness is so un-cool. Just remember your Pinkie Promise. Nopony in Ponyville is to know about this, ever." Rainbow tried to look threatening, but after being nearly eaten by a sea serpent, the glare she shot towards Twilight was more comical than dangerous.

For her friends benefit, Twilight again went through the motions of the Pinkie Promise, stopping just short of jabbing herself in the eye.

"I don't know why you're so worried about it. Ninety-five percent of Pegasi have terrible sea sickness. Almost half get train sickness as well. It's nothing to be ashamed of, Dash. Why do you think there are so few pegasi among the ship's crew?" Twilight shrugged as she let a bit of her lecture mode slip into her tone. "It probably has something to do with how your natural magic is being influenced by the magic of the oceans." Tapping a hoof to her chin, plans and ideas on possible methods to test the hypothesis began to flicker behind Twilight's eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. And the Kestrels are adapted to the oceans and islands, and that's why they avoid the mainland, blah-blah. I learned it all in Pegasi History class in school, Twi'," Rainbow smirked, the grin growing wider at the genuine surprise and then glee that shone from her friend's open face.

"So, you know about the first divergence in the pre-classical era, when Commander Desolation and Commander Harbour had—."

"Yeesh, I know about the history Twi. I just said that," Rainbow gave her eyes an exasperated roll.

"Well, yes, I just thought it'd be interesting to talk about it and see each other's point of view on things and if..." Twilight's voice trailed off as she began to sulk, her ears pressing downward and her mane drooping a bit as the stars glimmering among the strands faded ever so slightly.

"Your majesty, it is good to see you about," Captain Hardy said, his thick voice interrupting Rainbow before she could give Twilight the friendly ribbing she'd walked into. Like every pony else, he fixated on Twilight's wing, a light shake accompanied by the word 'remarkable' ending the brief inspection. "What an interesting voyage it has been, eh?"

"Yes, I wasn't expecting the ocean to be so... dangerous," Twilight admitted sheepishly. "I mean, I've read the stories. About ships that just vanish, or those that sail blindly over the edge. I just never thought I'd see pirates and a sea serpent."

"Sea Serpents are not so uncommon. They just normally demand a toll for sailing across their waters before sinking below the waves. I haven't heard of a sea serpent attacking a ship since I was a colt on my first voyage and still yearning for hearth and home." Hardy gave his hoof an angry tap on the deck.

"So... you're saying something made that thing attack us?" Rainbow tilted her head to the side, concern more than confusion pressing her brow together.

"Almost certainly. The way it attacked and went for the princess with a single minded focus, something was driving the beast, or controlling it."

Twilight couldn't help but give a light snort. As Hardy and Rainbow both gave her questioning looks, she said, "That serpent had to be at least a thousand years old, given its length. The spell needed to control or even manipulate it would be incredible. It's more likely that it was just in a bad mood." Twilight finished her short explanation with a short nod of satisfaction.

Hardy gave a level chuckle as he considered Twilight out of the corner of his eye.

"That is as may be, your majesty, but it doesn't explain why it followed you and ignored the ship until you managed to teleport back here." Pausing for a moment, Hardy then said, "Princess, I am concerned that you couldn't fend off the beast on your own."

Twilight felt her face instantly heat, a deep blush making her coat go an almost maroon colour. Rainbow and Twilight both sputtered for a moment, but were quickly intercepted by Hardy.

"You are a scholar of history as much as magic, I'm sure you know what happened at the Battle of Baltimare in the year Five Thirty Two?"

It took Twilight a few moments to recall the battle, naval history not being a particular strong point in her education. She knew that it had been fought off the coast of Equestria, and that it had been between the Solar Navy and the Kingdom of Unicornia, but that was the limit of her knowledge.

"I'm not surprised," Hardy chortled when he saw Twilight's blush deepen. "The War of the Sun and Moon isn't exactly commonly taught in this age. Princess Celestia tried her hardest to insure that when Princess Luna returned it would be with a clean slate. That the events of the war have been mostly lost is just an unfortunate side effect.

"The Kingdom of Unicornia had decided to throw their lot in with Nightmare Moon. Why, who can say. Princess Celestia, at the time, was pressed in tight in the north-east, Nightmare Moon controlling nearly two thirds of the nation. Unicornia planned to land their armies in the village of Baltimare, and in doing so open a second front. Celestia's forces would have been crushed, all modern historians agree. She got word of the attack, however, and with only a few sloops and a brigantine the princess went out to face almost a hundred Unicornian ships.

"The princess won the battle, not because she out manoeuvred her enemy, but because she out-powered them. The Battle of Baltimare is a prime example of why no nation has fought a war, and had any meaningful victory, against Equestria since Princess Celestia was crowned.

"Princess Twilight, you said you were a sixth level Abjurer and Enchanter, but what is your skill and knowledge with Evocations like?"

Twilight stuttered for a moment, then she gave a defeated grunt. Rainbow was trying hard not to come to her friends defense, the pegasus' face twitching as her hooves jittered on the deck.

"I made my qualifications," Twilight finally muttered. The argument rung weak and hollow in her own ears. "And I've learned a few basic spells since the Changeling Invasion, but..."

Hardy let an impassive look form on his face as he nodded understanding. Turning to return to his pacing, he said in parting, "It is something you should learn sooner rather than later, princess. You have a long life ahead of you. Who can say what enemies may come knocking on your door?"

Twilight had already come to a similar conclusion. Still, the idea of learning proper combat magic frightened her. Though not as much as facing something like the sea serpent again without any way to fight back, or protect those she loved. Part of her wanted to say 'No', and put her hoof down on learning such spells. That part was drowned out by the pragmatism formed from several adventures and nearly being eaten. Before she'd managed to resist the idea under the guise of her being just a simple country librarian. It was Future Twilight's problem, not hers. Well, now she was Future Twilight, and she cursed her younger self for being so naive and sheltered.

"He is right, the captain," Fleur said, finally showing signs of life. Twilight started a little, having forgotten about the unicorns presence. "I have had more than a few dreams now where," Fleur paused to wet her lips and wince at some memory, "where my 'guest' has used terrible magic."

"Yeah, but, we don't know where those ponies are, or if they are even real," Twilight tried to protest, though she wondered why she was even arguing. She agreed with Hardy and Fleur; she needed to learn combat magic.

Fleur just shrugged.

"This other soul inside of me came from somewhere, princess," she stated. "It'd be wise to consider what would happen if the other ponies in these dreams are real, and what would happen if they found Equestria." Fleur let out a little sigh, moving away from the railing to face Twilight. "We also have to consider that we are going into a hostile nation to retrieve an alicorn foal. They may not be willing to give her up without a fight. What will you do if that happens?"

Twilight was taken aback by the question. She hadn't considered the idea that there would be a problem retrieving the filly. A simple application of logic, that only other alicorns could properly raise and deal with an alicorn foal, and the griffons should be more than willing to let Twilight leave with the filly. After all, who'd want to have a potential bomb sitting in their city? If an alicorn foal had a magic surge... Twilight didn't like to contemplate the idea.

"Of course we'll get the foal," Rainbow snorted, answering for Twilight as the princess' mind raced. "And if they say 'no', well, I know a few tricks to make them see things our way."

Rainbow puffed out her chest, customary cocky grin on her face.

Again, Fleur just shrugged.

"I only mention it so you can think it over, princess."

Something was wrong with Fleur, Twilight realised as she recovered from the turn of the conversation. She wasn't acting normal, though Twilight would admit she had little idea of Fleur's normal. But she had come to expect the Prench Ambassador to be calm and collected, but not detached and almost disinterested.

"Fleur, is something going on? Did something happen with the, you know?"

Fleur jumped a little, guilt and worry warring on her face.

"Oui," she eventually said. "She visited me last night."

"She can do that?" Rainbow asked, scratching the side of her head.

"I guess so," Twilight said, a spark of curiosity making the princess almost dance on the spot. "So what happened? What did you talk about? What could you sense? Oh, this is so fascinating! Wait, I had a checklist of questions in case something like this happened!"

Twilight's horn flashed, a long roll of parchment blinking into being beside her.

"Yeah, before you get too egg-heady on us, Twi, why don't you let her just tell us what happened?"

"Oh, fine," a slight huff escaped the princess, the scroll vanishing in a puff of magic.

Fleur returned to staring out across the sparkling ocean. "There is little to tell," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the creaking of Bellerophon's rigging and hull as she slid through the water. "Except that she came to tell me that she is passing on."

"You mean, she's going to the Fields?" Twilight kept her voice low and soft as the implications struck her. She wasn't sure if she should have been sad or not. On one hoof, whoever it was that had invaded Fleur was leaving the ambassador. On the other, it meant that whoever it was that had possessed Fleur was truly dead. Logically, Twilight knew that the other soul had always been dead, and this was a good thing, but she couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity. Stepping over, Twilight wrapped a hoof around Fleur's withers.

"Who can say? Would you go to the Elysium Fields if you were to die, Princess?" Fleur raised a brow, while slumping a little beneath the hug.

"I... I don't know. Luna said that we can't die. But that makes no sense, because I had a sister who did die, or something. Everypony is being frustratingly glib on the subject." Twilight ground her teeth together a little as her mind flickered back to the conversations she'd tried to have with Iridia, Celestia, and Luna on the subject. It always ended the same; deflection and a promise of 'later'. Twilight couldn't help but feel like it was her really being an alicorn and no pony telling her all over again. "But, I suppose, yeah, we'd go to the Fields."

Fleur nodded slowly, her features lifting a little out of the glum pit they'd been in all morning.

"I hope that is where she went," Fleur rubbed her hooves together.

"Is there anything else she said?" Twilight asked, trying to comfort and satisfy her curiosity while also not pry. She found it a tricky balance to achieve.

Fleur hesitated for a second, then she nodded.

"Oui. It is all in my journal, princess."

Twilight barely resisted the urge to clap her hooves in joy. Fleur's journal, while a bit subjective in its observations in places, was rather thorough. She couldn't wait to get her hooves on the book and feel its crisp pages beneath her magic. Rainbow, recognizing the look in Twilight's eyes, shook her head while muttering the words 'eggheads' under her breath.

Just as she was about to head to the cabin to read the journal, Twilight gave out a sharp hiss, a hoof flying up to her horn. Far off to the south she felt a loud note of distress. High above in the bright blue sky a pair of stars burst awake.

Mistress, did you feel that? Polaris shouted, her panicked voice making Twilight wince.

"Yes, I heard them!" Twilight shouted, Rainbow and Fleur sharing a look of profound confusion at the sudden change in the princess' demeanour. "It was Ankaa, Phad, and Antares, right? What are they doing awake, and down here?" Twilight demanded as she hurried over to the starboard railing.

Somewhere beyond the horizon she could hear the three stars shouting to each other in sudden panic. What they were saying Twilight couldn't tell, only that all three were suddenly very afraid. Closing her eyes, Twilight detached her Awareness from herself, flinging it towards where the three stars were. After only a few moments Twilight found herself panting in exhaustion, sweat flowing down her face and neck. The sun was too high and bright, her magic, antithesis to that of the stars, creating a sweltering blanket across the world. It was like Twilight was trying to fly through a sauna, one filled with smoke that obscured her sight. Growling in frustration, Twilight abandoned trying to send her mind to the three endangered stars.

"Captain!" Twilight shouted, her voice only a few decibels below the threshold of the Royal Canterlot Voice. "Turn us south, NOW!"

To his credit, Hardy quickly snapped out the orders without asking why they were turning, Bellerophon jumping forward as she turned to run with the wind. As the ship began her turn, he strode across the deck, his face an indifferent mask.

"Princess, for what reason are we heading south? There is nothing there but many thousands of miles of open sea until you reach the glacial Antarctic."

Trying her best to contain her anxiety, heart hammering in her chest loud enough that Twilight was sure the entire ship could hear its erratic beats, she responded, saying, "Three of my stars have gotten themselves into trouble."

The answer was frustratingly cryptic even in her own ears. It came as a bit of a surprise when Hardy just nodded, gave a crisp salute, and then turned to the pony at his side instead of asking for clarification.

"Miss Flintlock, I want Royals and Skysails set!" The captain barked to the second lieutenant as the drum was beat to rouse the crew up the masts and into the shrouds.

Sails began flashing out in rapid succession creating a white pyramid atop the gently rolling sea.

"Something has the Princess in a right pinch, mate," one of the crewmares said to pony beside her as they hauled the lines to raise the sails. "Tartarus itself must have opened up, the way she is cracking on."

"Oh, this is nothing!" the other pony laughed as she stamped her hoof before giving the rope a mighty tug. "You should see her when something is really bad. She gets a twitchy-twitcher-twitch in the right eye and her mane starts to go all frazzled."

Looking over her shoulder, the crewmare almost jumped out of her skin when she saw it wasn't her usual crewmate beside her, but Pinkie Pie. The line wrapped around one hoof, Pinkie was considering her friend while Twilight continued to stare over the railing, a look of profound determination on the princess' face. As Pinkie watched three strands of Twilight's mane sprung loose and she saw a distinct mini-twitch. Not a full on twitchy-twitcher-twitch, but enough to concern Pinkie.

"Come on, lasses, heave-ho!" shouted the ship's Master, forcing Pinkie to pay attention to hauling the line and not tripping up any of the crewmares.

Glancing up at the angry sun, Twilight chewed on her lower lip.

After the initial burst of fear and activity, the three stars had grown quiet. Closing her eyes Twilight could feel the connections to the stars, but they were weak and fluttery. Cursing herself for not making sure that all the stars had been in the sky when she'd put them to sleep, Twilight began to pace, a nervous energy stabbing through her legs.

The ship was moving too slowly, Twilight realised. It would be hours, maybe even days, before Bellerophon could reach the distant stars. She wanted to scream in frustration as worry bubbled higher and higher, her eye taking on a constant tick as more hairs came loose from her mane.

"Twi, you need to calm down," Rainbow said, trying to put a hoof on her friends withers.

"No! I can't, Dash!" Twilight snarled, rounding on the pegasus. "I should have made sure that all the stars were alright! I knew that more than a few were sneaking down in order to explore or visit the ponies they'd spent years watching. They thought they were being crafty, but I could feel each one as she manifested. Except Sirius. I still haven't figured out how she's managing to avoid me."

Twilight began grinding her teeth, glaring at the horizon as it seemed to stay the same, passive, unmoving and unchanging. She knew it was just an optical illusion. She could feel Bellerophon trembling as it surged across the ocean, making over twelve knots at the heaving of the log. It wasn't near enough Twilight knew as she made a few simple calculations. She could feel the stars were almost three hundred knots to the south. At their present speed it would take them just over a full day to reach the stars' location.

It was wholly unacceptable.

But what choice did she have?

Unless she teleported there was...

Twilight froze as the idea blasted into her anxiety addled mind. Three hundred miles, that would only be several seconds within the Aether. That was doable. Now, she just needed a visualization of the destination.

"Polaris, can you see where the others are?" Twilight asked, casting a glance up at the star flickering in the baby blue sky.

I can, came the stars hesitant response. It is an island in the mid-Marelantic. It is hard to make out, something is trying to block my sight.

"If it is Sol, I am going to have to have a chat with Celestia when I get home," Twilight growled, the tone of her voice making even Rainbow back up and flatten her ears in shock.

Eyes closed, Twilight waited what felt like an eternity for Polaris to touch her thoughts and share the image of a small crescent shaped island sitting amidst the dark blue ocean. The bay was wide and a bright turquoise while a thick canopy of green covered most of the island except a tall peak in the middle. Smoke billowed out of the mountain, showing it to be an active volcano. Feeling the image was clear enough, Twilight turned to Hardy.

"Captain, you may want to order everypony to brace themselves," was all Twilight said before she started to channel her magic.

Hardy opened his mouth belatedly to ask what Twilight was up to before turning and ordering the crew to brace.

Sparks began to spit and snarl from the tip of Twilight's horn as she called on more and more of her immense magic reserves. She pulled up her entire well, leaving barely a scrap behind to avoid magical exhaustion. No pony had ever even attempted what she was trying as a thin pink light began to encompass the ship. Theoretically it was no different than what she'd done while fighting the serpent, except for the mass being vastly greater.

Mass was the biggest limiter when it came to teleportation, even more so than distance and needing to know where one was teleporting. Teleportation wasn't uncommon because of the later two draw-backs, it was the power required to overcome the exponential increase in needed magic that keep the spell from being used by the vast majority of unicorns. Twilight was only aware of a dozen unicorns capable of the spell to begin with, and of them only three could teleport a second pony when using the spell.

Teleporting a weight that was measured in the hundreds to thousands of tons would have gotten Twilight looks like she was utterly mad if she'd mentioned the idea to any of her old professors at Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns. Twilight had no idea Bellerophon's actual weight, only that she had to get the ship to that island.

Fleur caught on to what Twilight was planning, a look of panic filling her face in the last moments as the light generated by Twilight's horn encompassed the ship. With a grunt, Twilight finished the spell as the ambassador shouted for her to stop. A deafening crack resounded through the air, the ocean where the ship had stood trembling as a shock-wave forced the waves back.

Everypony felt the bone numbing chill of being submerged within the flow of Aether crash down on their bodies. Those below decks that hadn't been prepared for the sudden change fared the worst, many stumbling about in the absolute blackness, unable to see even the tips of their noses. Some clawed at the decks, desperately trying to breath, but no air existed to fill their lungs. Panic and terror gripped the ship as the seconds ticked by.

Twilight heard a chorus of five hundred voices shouting prayers in her name, most asking for forgiveness or her mercy. She cringed knowing that it was wrong to put so many through such terror, but comforted herself that it was only for a few seconds and then it would be over.

With a second almighty boom, Bellerophon emerged from the aether, the sea thrust back by the ship's appearance. Ponies sat stunned around the ship, many checking themselves over to make sure they were all there.

"Wowie! That was chilly," Pinkie exclaimed, leaping up from the middle of a crowd of ponies.

Panting heavily, Twilight gave Pinkie a thin smile. Beads of frozen sweat clung to her body, clumping her mane about her face. To her surprise, and relief, Twilight found the spell had only drained roughly half her well. The exertion still left her body feeling like it had been run over by a stampede, every movement sending fresh aches jolting throughout her. Ignoring the grumbles, Twilight pulled herself to the railing, spotting the island only a few miles to the south.

A smile had barely time to grow before Twilight's senses fully re-oriented themselves and she found herself sitting down with a heavy thud, her mouth falling open.

"Ugh, Twi', don't ever do that again, no matter how cool it might be," Rainbow groaned as she gathered her hooves beneath her, Fleur and Captain Hardy echoing the sentiment. Knocking feeling back into her hooves, Rainbow noticed Twilight's shocked expression, and asked, "Hey Twilight? Rainbow to Twilight? What gives?"

Working her mouth slowly, afraid her voice would crack, Twilight pointed to the island. The island where she could feel her three missing stars.

"There is an alicorn on that island, one I've never felt before," Twilight said, turning to Rainbow as the colour drained from her face, "And I think he or she has my stars."

Chapter Twelve: Storms On The Horizon

Myths and Birthrights

By Tundara

Part Two: Tremors in the East

Chapter Twelve: Storms on the Horizon

"A spoonful of honey makes the medicine go down, yes, the medicine go down," Zubu hummed as he puttered around his hut, the notes so off tune that even Gilda was cringing and trying to cover her ears.

The shaman had been singing the same verse continually for the past day and a half. If Gilda hadn't still been so weak from her injuries she would have knocked Zubu upside the head before winging it towards the plains, Great White Apes or no Great White Apes. That she could barely shuffle around the hut, made the idea of trying to overpower the fast and crazy zebra preposterous.

"Do you have to sing that song?"

"You don't like Marey Trottins?" Zubu asked, an amused smirk making his yellow teeth glint in the firelight. Putting on an affectation of false hurt, he added, "I thought everyone from the western continent just loved Marey Trottins!"

"Do I look like some lame pony that went to Manehattan stage plays?" Gilda grunted, turning away from Zubu.

"No, no, no, you look like a cat-bird with a clipped wing, stuck here in the jungle with the Wise and Wonderful Zubu! Yes, that is what you look like indeed!"

Grunting again, Gilda shuffled out of the hut and out into the streams of light filtering down through the jungle canopy. She never would have admitted it but she kind of liked the place. There was a coziness coupled with a sense of danger and excitement. A blend of the comfortable and the unknown. It didn't hurt that prey was plenty and the Zebra's garden was overflowing with tasty breadfruit, rhubarb, and sweet-root.

Stretching out her aching legs and wings, Gilda felt a pinch in her side that was quickly becoming familiar. Grumbling to herself rubbing the sore muscles, she began to pace in a circle as she continued through the warm-up routines taught in Flight Camp.

From the hut she heard Zubu continue to talk.

"Silly cat-bird is going to get herself, or worse, both of us killed. Too young. Too angry. So much anger. Reminds my old heart and head of Zimi." Zubu paused as if he was listening to a response. Probably the kettle he'd hung over the fire-pit. Gilda rolled her eyes as the crazy zebra started talking again. "No, no, no, that is too much to ask, too much, Firestar! Did you not just hear me? 'Teach her' you say! Rescue the lost pony goddess you said too, and look at how that turned out. Those cat-birds would have made Zubu Soup if they knew the Compact did not protect me. Lucky I am, yes, lucky. Mend her bones, I will. Sew her flesh, yes. But teach her? No. Too much. Far, far too much."

Silence flowed from the hut following the shaman's short rant, the only noise coming from the bugs and birds that filtered through the jungle. Gilda frowned at the beads serving as a door, wondering just what some lame, crippled zebra could teach her. Once she worked all the stiffness and aches out of her system with exercise and a full diet she'd be up in the air again, and then she'd be unstoppable.

"Fine! Fine, Firestar, fine. I will teach her."

Zubu's voice was defeated and constrained as it tumbled passed Gilda's ear. A couple moments later she heard his odd shuffle-hop gait before he stepped out of his hut. His good eye roamed over Gilda, making her feel like a chick again in front of the teachers at Flight Camp.

Approaching his hammock, Zubu asked, "Tell me, cat-bird, what do you know of magic?"

"'Magic'?" Gilda scoffed, inspecting the built up dirt beneath one of her talons. "Only unicorns use magic. Those prissy dorks in their manors and castles with their stupid parlour tricks. I never bothered with them. They were all so boring and lame."

"Ancestors preserve me," Zubu muttered to himself, before adding as he turned away from the hammock, "Wrong! All races have magic. Zebra and Water-backs. Bird-Pony and Ground-Pony. Others too. All the Seven Races have magic. All of them. Unicorns just flashy with their spells and supposed mastery. Pah, they've lost so much because they only concern themselves with magic connected to their Marks. Great musicians and artists they may be, but true magic-users? No, slowly they vanish and soon they be no more."

Zubu rolled his own head and snorted as he limped into his hut only to return a moment later with his staff.

"You use magic to fly, cat-bird. Or did you think those pretty wings alone were responsible?"

"Well, yeah, I heard all about that in Flight Camp." Gilda smirked, crossing her forelegs and drumming her talons.

"Oh, good!" Zubu laughed. "Then why you say only Unicorn has magic?"

"Well..."

Before she could find an excuse, Zubu cut her off with a sweeping gesture. "No, Zubu really doesn't care for your reasons."

In the dirt in front of Gilda, Zubu began to draw and etch symbols and equations, diagrams and pictures. She couldn't understand any of it. After a few seconds, her eyes began to glaze over as Zubu muttered to himself while he worked.

Gilda flashed back to the classrooms of Flight Camp. She and Dash spent their time either skipping those lame and boring classes, or goofing off in the back rows. They were fliers and doers. Naturals in the sky that didn't need any of the stupid math and equations the teachers tried to teach.

She couldn't believe that the insane old zebra was actually going to try to teach her magic. She didn't want to learn about magic. Spells and studying were for egg-heads and Gilda had no need for them.

"Listen, you fixing me up and giving me a place to stay has been great and all, but I don't need some silly spells. What use would I have for being able to float light stuff in fuzzy pink auras when I have these bad-girls?" Gilda showed her claws and slid her wings open with a wide grin.

She waited for Zubu to realise his error, but the old zebra just cocked a brow and frowned.

"Oh, yes, your talons are sharp and you are fast, cat-bird," he waved his maimed leg in an airy motion.

"Gilda," she responded in a flat tone, tired of not being called by her name.

"Your name is Cat-bird until you are no-longer cat-bird, yes? Good." Zubu hardly paused before sitting back, a wide grin of his own on his face. Suspecting he was up to something, Gilda narrowed her eyes. "So, you think you no need magic."

Gilda nodded, opening her beak for a retort, when Zubu rolled his staff down from his shoulder. A green glob of goo shot from its with a soft 'fwump' and fizzle. Like prey hearing a griffins' screech for the first--and last--time, Gilda only started to dodge when the glob caught her and sent her spinning backward into a tree. Blinking, she found her left wing and legs stuck to the tree and holding her just high enough that only the toes of her back-right paw could touch the ground.

"Felb's Sticky Blob," Zubu laughed, falling backwards into the dust and dirt to roll around as he clutched his side. "Good for trapping mouthy know-it-all cat-birds, it is."

Struggling against the substance sticking her to the tree, Gilda let out a sharp screech.

"Let me down, or I'll—,"

"You'll do nothing but sit and listen," Zubu snapped, his grin dropping into a vicious frown. "Magic flows through every living thing, through the ground and sky, through the seas and rivers, and from the stars, sun, and moon. Magic be everywhere!"

With the butt of his staff, Zubu pointed at the first diagram he had drawn.

"This be the runes for a simple counter to the Sticky Blob," Zubu stated, pausing at the flat glare Gilda fired back at him. "You can read it, yes? No? No, you can't." Grumbling to himself, Zubu returned to his hammock and rolled up into its swinging knotted cords. For almost a half hour he swung back and forth, muttering to himself as he observed Gilda grunt and curse against the spell. At last he pronounced, "First lesson is Cat-bird getting out of spell."

"I've been trying," Gilda snarled back, heaving again until her entire body moaned in silent protest and she relented with a gasping wheeze.

"You try with muscle. Use magic. Any decent apprentice could get out of that spell in ten seconds flat."

Gilda reeled back as if she'd been slapped. She stared at the crazy zebra, her beak hanging open. Twisting her stare into a glare, she snarled at the zebra before turning to her wings. Gilda had known that magic was involved in flying, every youngling learned that lesson. It didn't help her to know how it would help her escape the spell.

For an hour she strained, cursed, screamed, and issued threats. Zubu sat through them, relaxing in his hammock or drawing and writing in the dirt.

"This going to be harder than even I thought," he muttered to a chipped tea pot sitting above the fire-pit in the hut. To Gilda he shouted, "You do magic all wrong, cat-bird. It doesn't come from muscle, it comes from heart and head."

Gilda was about to issue a particularly loathsome curse when she was struck on the head by the zebra's staff. Groaning and rubbing what was going to a lump, she growled, "What was that for?"

"There needs to be a reason?" Zubu laughed, before pointing his good hoof up at Gilda. "Now, calm yourself, cat-bird. Steady your heart and your head. Picture two trees, their limbs interweaving like the legs of lovers. Do you see it?"

With a large huff Gilda relented, deciding to play along. Perhaps if she did the crazy shaman would remove the spell. Closing her eyes, she grunted, "Yeah, I got it."

"Good, now, holding onto the image feel the energy of your wings, the rump-thump-thump of your heart. Can you feel it?" When Gilda gave a slight nod, Zubu continued, "Now, take the two trees, and tear them apart while feeling that energy. Bend and pull it, as you bend and pull the trees."

Feeling utterly ridiculous, Gilda did as she was told. She slowed her breath like she would just before a dive and felt the little tremors of energy that flowed through her wings, down her back, and to the tip of her tail. Above her the wind whispered through the tree, ruffling the emerald leaves and sending little ripples through the yellow lines of magic snaking and zigzagging through the bark. She pictured each feather, pictured how they felt as they swam and thrust through the air, the currents of power they touched to hold her aloft.

With the image of the intertwined trees overlaying those flowing through her, Gilda pulled.

She felt and heard a slight popping, like the cork of a bottle being opened, and tumbled to the ground. Panting a little, she flicked her free wing and tested her legs, the muscles and joints groaning.

"Good, good! You may have some small talent after-all, Gilda," Zubu nodded, a lopsided, bemused grin on his face as he shuffled into his hut. "Now, let's have some dinner. Then we start Second Lesson."

Gilda limped after Zubu, a little smile of pride at having bested his spell making her carry her head a little higher, and her heart beat a little faster.

* * *

Located deep within the heart of Canterlot's western district stood the city's Temple of Names, Notra-Dame de la Chanson, Our Lady of Song. The oldest building in the entire city, older than the university, older than the city, older than even Canterlot Castle built following the War of the Sun and Moon. Half the temple thrust out onto a natural ledge of the mountain while the remainder was sunk into the mountain itself using a combination of natural caverns and carved chambers. A terrace extended from the ledge, giving the city its distinctive look hanging over the Equis Valley.

Across the broad face of the temple were etched one hundred and one carvings of ponies going about the daily life of Equestria at the time of the temple's construction. Most of the acts were simple, from washing clothes in tubs to tilling fields with simple hoes. Others showed acts of magical strength or courage by armoured knights.

Three sets of doors led into the Grand Chapel, above the central door a tinted window let the light of the noon sun into the heart of the temple. Each pane of glass was stained wonderful blues, rich purples, or vibrant reds, showing the scenes of Hearth's Warming: from the Exodus of the Old Kingdoms, to the trials of the three tribes, the Earth Ponies and Unicorns in their ancient boats and the Pegasi dragging their ancestral city, to the banishment of the Windigos by the Three Apostle's of Fate at their first meeting, before being sent to spread the message of Harmony to the still fractured ponies.

Illuminated in the light cast by the North Rosette, a statue of the Namegiver stood in the Grand Chapel, her wings holding the ceiling aloft. The entire roof was covered in painted frescos taken from the Book of Sol. It was here, in this singular sanctuary, where Celestia the Goddess took precedence over Celestia the Princess.

Above the entry shone an image of Celestia as she looked during the war, her mane and tail raging infernos of flame licking the air and eyes burning embers of barely restrained vengeance. Coronal Edge at her side, cleaving through a nameless black mass of shadow as fire poured from her horn.

To the Namegiver's right was Celestia as a maiden, her mane a fluffy candy pink as she played in green fields with several foals. Much of the scene couldn't be seen for the scaffolding reaching up towards it as skilled experts performed the necessary acts of maintaining the frescos.

Behind the Namegiver was the founding of Canterlot, and Celestia as a protector. Sheltered beneath her wings were ponies, all reaching up towards the goddess. Through a break in painted clouds shone a beam of sunlight, the golden pillar pointing the way towards the Canterhorn, the mountain devoid of the city.

The final frescos was dark. Midnight blues swirled around Celestia's white coat with a moon half hidden by the Mare-in-the-Moon. A tear clung to Celestia's cheek as she gazed up to the moon, a song clear upon her lips, as she mourned the war, and the loss of her sister.

Beneath the frescos, standing halfway into alcoves along the walls, were statues of the Alicorns. Of the dozen alcoves, only four were occupied, the painted statues looking so lifelike visitors often commented to the priestesses how they expected them to start to walk around the temple. Twilight's statue was the newest, the paint still damp, while Celestia's had a time worn and weathered sheen to it. Along the western wall, under tall windows that displayed the setting sun, were Luna and Twilight's statues, with Celestia's and Cadence's opposite.

Small altars for private prayer stood before each statue, while candles lined the walls. During the day a few ponies would visit the shrines, most heading to Celestia's, though Twilight's was popular due to the novelty of her ascension. On Sundays the entire temple would fill with the faithful to sing Celestia's praises, the temple resonating with their song until the heavenly sound would flow out into the city and the valley below, for which Notra-Dame de la Chanson was given her name. The only other time the temple saw much use was during the Rite of Names.

The Rite was the most sacred and honoured tradition among ponykind, practiced throughout both the Old World and Equestria. While most settlements and towns had at least a shrine to the Namegiver, only the older or larger towns had a temple. It was to these temples that expectant mare’s would travel in pilgrimage.

Even with its age and location, Canterlot's temple was most famous for the multitude of candles that would burn behind the main altar. There, the High Priestess would stand as she mixed the draughts that the expectant mothers would drink. The heady smell of incense in the air, the mares would commune with the Namegiver. All claimed to hear Her voice, though none agreed on what it sounded like. For some it was like she was standing beside them speaking as if the mare was an old friend, others claimed Her voice was like colour being carried by the wind, an impression as much as sound. The experience was always unique.

Otherwise, the only ponies that spent any time in the temple were the priestesses and their acolytes.

Upon joining the order, new acolytes took a vow of chastity and silence, not speaking again until taking their second vows and becoming full priestesses. Most of the priestesses spent their time away from the Grand Chapel, reading and studying the holy books; the Book of Sol, the Book of Selene, the Book of Love, or inking the new Book of Polaris. The priestesses found much of their time consumed by the final endeavour. In their hooves were copies of Twilight's friendship reports, among other correspondence the temple had managed to gather that the new alicorn had written. From them they correlated and created tales and parables that would guide the faithful for generations to come.

Or so was the priestesses’ hope.

Beyond the priestesses chambers sat the Reliquary. A great vault, secured with layer upon layer of protective wards and shielding magic, buried almost in the mountains heart. Inside the reliquary was housed some of the most precious artifacts. The cloak of Clover the Clever, the chalice of Smart Cookie, and sword of Pansy were each granted places of honour before all the other relics. Only the High Priestess had the key into the reliquary.

It was into the temple Tyr walked, her hoofsteps slow and tentative as she crossed the threshold. Back home such places held Power, much like Names. Tyr didn't know if it held true here, or if the temple's matron would even be able to sense her presence given her condition. Holding her breath, she took the last step as a single jump, scrunching her eyes closed in case the Namegiver came thundering down from wherever she was living.

When nothing happened, Tyr breathed out a long gasp of relief and trotted fully into the temple.

For a society as impious and un-devout as Equestria, Tyr was impressed. The temple wasn't as grand nor as magnificent as the Citadel of Light, but nothing was — save Zeus' own home. And the Obsidian City of Tartarus, according to Athena. Tyr wished she had been old enough to join Athena and Demea when they ventured through the Gate and into the forsaken wastes of the underworld. Maybe if she'd been there the war could have been avoided.

Looking around the Grand Chapel, Tyr's steps echoed on the well travelled marble floors. She paused in front of the shrines, and for a few minutes she pictured a statue of herself in one of the empty alcoves. 'Maybe someday soon,' she silently whispered.

"You're early," stated a rich rolling voice from behind Tyr, making her jump into the air with a gasp.

Spinning about, Tyr found herself only a feet yards away from a middle-aged mare in red-gold robes. Her coat had been dyed a snow-white and her mane a rusty red, the roots of both showing their natural pink and blue colours respectively.

"W-what do you mean?" Tyr asked, pressing a hoof to her chest to help still her heart.

"For the evening sermon," the priestess said, a playful smile tugging at her eyes beneath the hood of her robes. "You are here for the sermon, aren't you, little one?"

"Why does everypony call me that?" Tyr asked herself before in a louder voice said, "No, I was just curious after my mother told me about the temple. I had to see it for myself."

"Oh?" the priestess gave her head a little tilt, "Are you thinking of joining the sisterhood?"

"No, but someday—," Tyr faltered as she almost said, 'I'll have a Priestesshood devoted to me.' Instead she muttered, "Someday, I believe that the Priestesshood will be escalated to their proper position within society."

"Well, we are just glad that any pony is willing to hear the teachings of the Namegiver and her herd," the priestess said, giving an airy laugh. "I am the Revered Speaker for Notra-Dame de la Chanson, Blessed Harmony. What is your name?"

"Tyr."

"Tyr? An interesting name. Not Equestrian, I gather. It sounds more like it comes from the Old Kingdoms," Blessed said, half to herself and half to Tyr. "So, would you like a little tour of Natra-Dame de la Chanson?"

Shrugging, Tyr said, "Sure, I'm curious about how the Goddesses are revered in this land."

Choosing not to comment on Tyr's odd phrasing, or used to such statements, Blessed Harmony began to lead Tyr around the Grand Chapel. Her voice formed a soft sort of melody as she explained what the various frescos symbolised or the event displayed. As they neared the altar near the Grand Chapel's back, she began to tell Tyr about the Rite of Names.

"'Rite of Names? What's that?" Tyr asked. She'd never heard of any such rite being performed in the Citadel of Light.

A bright, whimsical smile touched Blessed Harmony's face as she began to speak on the subject of the Rite. Her voice was lithe, almost dancing, an extra little skip entering her step. "By consuming a special potion, a mother can touch the essence of the Namegiver and are granted a moment of her sight. It is in this way that they learn of their foal's Fate, and from Fate, her or his name."

"That's not how I was named," Tyr muttered, her shoulders slumping. If she could have, she'd have drooped her wings until they touched the cold stone floor. "My mother just liked how my name sounded."

"I suspected as much. Tyr is an odd name." Blessed Harmony gave Tyr a comforting smile.

"Does it have to be just expecting mothers, or can anypony drink the potion and learn their name?" Tyr looked up, a little light of hope glimmering behind her azure eyes.

"Oh, certainly. There have been ponies who lost themselves, either through magic or injury, who have partaken of the Rite to rediscover their destiny. Curiously, this does not always grant them the same name, but a new one, one tied to things yet to come." As she spoke, the Revered Speaker lead Tyr up to the altar. It was empty, just a simple monument of black marble with a gold trimmed white cloth hanging over its sides.

"Can I take the Rite?"

Hesitating, Blessed Harmony replied, "If you want to take the Rite, Tyr, you should ask your mother first. You're only a filly still."

"Everypony keeps saying that, I'm sick of it!" Tyr stamped a hoof. "I'm not a foal! I can make my own decisions. Adults don't have to force them on me. They don't have to force me to be something I'm not just because they think it's better for me. Well, it isn't! They had no right to do that to me! None!" Tyr collapsed against the side of the altar, letting out a long sniff as tears dampened her cheeks. An irritated hoof wiped aside the unwanted reminders. In the past few months she'd cried more than she would in the rest of her life. It was wrong, though it felt good and right just letting everything out.

Blessed Harmony settled down beside Tyr, the Revered Speaker lifting a cloth in her hoof and dabbing away the tears.

"You feel very strongly about this," she stated, considering the filly. After several minutes she stood, the cloth vanishing into her red robes. Moving around to the back of the altar, she said, "Very well, if this is your desire."

"It is," Tyr affirmed, lifting herself slowly, perplexed by the shift in the priestess' position.

Onto the altar the Revered Speaker placed a simple wooden cup, one weathered and glossy from countless years of use. Into it the priestess placed several herbs, among them Tyr recognised henbane, belladonna, and coriander. Pulling out a pestle, the priestess ground the herbs together, her lips moving to a chant Tyr did not recognize. Taking a pinch of the resulting powder, she dropped it into a silver chalice along with a golden liquid. Swirling the contents, she then placed it before Tyr.

No words were spoken between them. Hesitantly, Tyr took the chalice in her hooves and drank the potion in several greedy gulps. It was like ice and fire, sweet and bitter, scouring her tongue and soothing her throat at the same time. Tyr thought she could detect a trace of licorice and cinnamon. Putting the empty chalice down she looked up at the Revered Speaker expectantly.

She continued to stand still watching Tyr with an almost bemused expression.

"Nothing's happening," Tyr said after a minute of silence.

The Revered Speaker did not respond. She didn't even blink, the strands of her mane hanging suspended in the air as if held up by invisible strings.

"Well, this is a surprise," a light fluttering voice said behind Tyr, making the filly spin and drop into a fighting stance. "I wasn't expecting this meeting until this evening."

Behind her the Grand Chapel had been replaced by an endless multicoloured sea. Flat and featureless, it stretched on forever, the sky a gentle greyish-white that gave off a soft light. Only a few steps away stood an alicorn, white hooves not making a ripple as she trotted towards Tyr. Presuming her to be the Namegiver, Tyr slowly relaxed and flicked her wings in eager anticipation.

It took a few moments for her to process the action, and when she did Tyr gave an excited yelp as she craned her neck to look at her back and see her wings, her precious little wings.

Remembering why she had taken the potion, Tyr turned her attention back to the approaching alicorn. This was just a dream or vision, Tyr reminded herself. Hopefully it would lead her towards regaining her real wings.

"You're the Namegiver?" Tyr asked, though she felt the question silly. Who else would it have been? Zeus? Tyr gave a snort at the idea of the King of the Alicorns ever getting off his throne long enough to do anything other than seduce a mortal.

"What were expecting, Angel Bunny?" The alicorn gave a slight, almost hollow chuckle, as she came to a stop just before Tyr. "My name is Faust, and I am the Watcher of Fate and the Mender of the Weave."

"I'm Tyr." The statement felt beyond foolish, given who she was addressing.

"Yes, you are," Faust responded, starting to circle around and inspect the filly. "I've been looking forward to meeting you ever since your Binding."

"My what?"

"Since my daughters and granddaughter took your wings and earth-sense."

"Y-you know... Do you know when I—."

Faust put a hoof to Tyr's lips to silence her. It felt like biting down into freshly baked bread, and left a taste like daisies and cream when Faust withdrew her hoof.

“It doesn’t work that way. I don’t know events, but I can see them. Or rather important ones.” Faust began to move away, stopping after a few steps to look back, a brow arched as if to ask if Tyr was coming.

Hesitating only a moment, Tyr quickly drew up beside the ancient alicorn. As they walked, Faust drew herself tall, wings partially extended to create a canopy over Tyr. It felt so much like home, and the walks Tyr had once taken with her sister. Other than the different mane, Tyr could almost imagine it was Athena at her side, and not a stranger.

Then Faust began to sing, and the image of Athena was shattered.

Her voice like the chorus of ringing crystal, Faust let a few wordless notes hang in the air before she broke into a mournful low song. Though Tyr could not understand the words, she could feel their meaning resonating through her, leaving her feeling empty and alone, as if she stood atop a cliff overlooking the sea, grey waters waiting below to swallow her, and all she needed to do was leap.

Mi anyáro aurië

Mallo lá hanyalúmë

Carilwë ilcala ve silmë

Ananta nauta ló vanda

É endalma mernë

Quildë falassër

Tana lá hanyaohta

Faust’s voice, lifting high as the peak of the Canterhorn, hung in the air for several impossible moments, the goddess pausing at a patch in the endless ocean. Before her hooves was a thread of softly glowing gold, the light it gave seeming to brighten all the strands laying near or woven around its core. With the tender care one would use to pick up an injured butterfly, Faust lifted the thread from the water.

Nalláma lendë arta i palla

Istimalwë anessëlma

Ar lendëlwë

Tempëlma olavalerya pella

Umbar ná nwalca ananta feuyahranga

From around the two alicorns, the water began to vibrate with a low hum, accenting and pulling Faust’s song into a slow, languid, looping descent. Following the gold thread, Faust lead Tyr away and into the past. Tyr could not explain how she knew this, only that it was true.

I quildë malafëalma

Ar ve antavenwë

Órëlwë na lanta

Ar er carlwë

Marto ná nwalca ananta feuyahranga

Yassë yestata tyaliëlwë inwë ranta

They followed the thread for what felt like mere minutes and many centuries. The song pulled Tyr’s spirits further down the torn and frayed thread, its golden shimmer replaced by warped black strands. Tyr’s heart twisted looking at the change in the strand, though she couldn’t understand why. At last stopping at a tangle, five golden threads mixing with dozen of the rainbow coloured lines. Only five threads continued from the tangle, the others simply ending. Three continued golden and pure, one was black as ebon and seemed to hiss and give off an aura of hate, the final strand was the one they had followed to the knot. The last notes of Faust’s song hung in the air before drifting away, the goddess laying down in the waters to stare at the knot.

“What happened here?” Tyr asked, her own voice hesitant, and she wondered if she truly wanted to know. But Faust had to have brought her to the tangle for a reason.

Tears began to shimmer down Faust’s face as she silently gazed upon the tangle. Reaching out, she picked up the dense ball of interwoven fates, and gently stroked it. A pair of tears fell from her chin, adding to the endless sea.

“I made a choice, Tyr,” Faust whispered. “I passed my test, and it cost me and the world so much. Had I failed, however, it would have been far worse.”

“I don’t understand.”

“We are the last of the Aethyir, Tyr,” Faust slowly released the tangle, letting it fall back into the ocean. “Some call us Gods and Goddesses, and they may be right. As the Aethyir, we were Perfection and Harmony. But as Alicorns, we are both blessed and cursed, Tyr. These shells we inhabit are not perfect, and those imperfections resonate down to the cores of our divine essence. Eventually, we all will either crack and succumb to the Taint, or we will choose to fade from the world.

“I chose the latter, my sister did not.”

“And this, um, knot was the cause?”

“Aye,” the single word contained a weight as great as the disc resting upon Ioka’s shell. “I had the choice to prevent a member of my herd from being harmed in the worst possible manner. From the moment I looked at the weave and saw what was to come, it became set and almost unavoidable.”

“You couldn’t change it?” Tyr scooted forward as the question left her tongue, looking down on the knot with greater curiosity.

“Yes, I could have. I could have snapped the threads, re-woven the Weave. It is not outside my Domain. But to do so, to not just maintain and watch the Weave, but to tamper, to bend it to my whim? I would have fallen, becoming a Nightmare that would have been impossible to redeem or defeat. I passed the test, and I went and found a place where the world would be safe from me, and where I could tend the wounds of my heart.”

Standing abruptly, Faust left the knot, the weave shifting and flowing until it returned to the present. All around Tyr were patches of... something. Tyr wasn’t sure what to call the effect, except that it made seeing the strands difficult. Not impossible, but it was like looking through a tinted jar.

"Why is it harder to see these strands?"

"That is caused by the presence of those not part of the Weave, such as yourself when you first arrived. There are almost a dozen such causes still. As they either return to their home or are sewn into the Weave, things will become clear again."

'Almost a dozen,' Tyr mouthed, her heart skipping a beat to think of so many of her relatives somewhere out there on this world. She was aware that two others had come with her, at least, given what she'd overheard and been told. Tyr suspected her cousins Shyara and She-Without-A-Name had been the two that came with her, but wasn't certain.

"You know who they are, yes?" Faust turned to Tyr. The elder Goddess' features had lost all their sorrow and distant concern, becoming hard and dark. "I need to know who they are, Tyr! I need to know if they are a threat. I will not let history repeat itself again. Not when the Weave is in flux, not when I can change things for the better without risk." Faust's horn flashed with ruby magic, an image of a lithe unicorn shimmering into existence between her and Tyr. "Who does this pony remind you of? Which of your relatives?"

Tyr scooted back a little ways as she shifted her gaze from Faust to the illusion of Fleur, then back to Faust.

"That's Fleur. Has something happened to her? Did my sister hurt her for looking like one of her Priestesses?"

Faust dismissed the illusion before laying down next to Tyr, extending a wing in a hug. "Your sister... has done something terrible to Fleur. She has tried to steal Fleur's destiny. I must intervene, but how I do so will depend on what you tell me."

"You won't hurt her, will you?" Tyr asked, dread bubbling up in her stomach. "Fleur is a nice pony."

"I can make no promises, Tyr." Faust looked away.

Grinding her teeth Tyr tried to order her thoughts.

"Athena, Goddess of Wisdom." The name whispered into the air, a faint tear at her betrayal tracing down her cheek. "She's not a bad pony, she just... She made a mistake! She didn't intend for the War and for the Citadel to be destroyed! Nopony could have known what Ares, Achlys, and the other Titans would do after Demea killed Hecate! "

Faust nodded slowly, raising to her hooves. She said, not unkindly, "It's time for you to wake and return to the physical realm, Tyr."

"Wait! You didn't tell me my name! Isn't that what you're supposed to do?" Tyr scrambled to her hooves.

Faust gave a little bubbling laugh, pressing a hoof to her lips.

"Tyr, you know that our names have Power. You are Tyr. You have always been Tyr. You will always be Tyr," Faust said as she and the Weave of Fate faded away.

"No, please, I need to know, what is my destiny? What is my Domain?" Tyr cried out after the vanishing goddess, throwing up a hoof as a series of lights burst before her eyes, blinding her for but a moment. When the spots cleared, Tyr found herself laying in her bed in the Palace.

Blinking back confusion, she looked around and saw the sun just peeking above the horizon from her east facing window. Tyr was further surprised when she felt a warm weight beside her. Turning she saw Cadence, the princess sound asleep with her wing extended over Tyr like a shield. On a nearby cushion sat Celestia, her horn glowing and her eyes closed while she communed with the sun.

"You're awake," the Goddess of the Sun stated as her magic faded and she opened her eyes. "You gave us a lot of worry, Tyr."

"How did I get back to the Palace?" Tyr asked. Her entire body ached like she had bounced down a flight of stairs, again. She groaned as she tried to stretch out sore muscles.

"Cadence found you at the temple. We had almost mobilised the entire Royal Guard for a discreet search of the city when she and the Revered Speaker slipped into the Palace through one of the ancient hidden tunnels." Celestia stepped off her cushion, stretching out her majestic wings as she moved to sit beside the bed. "You've been asleep for over a full day."

"A full day?" Tyr blinked in shock, thinking back to the vision. It had only felt like a few minutes, and a few years at the same time.

"Mm Hmm," Celestia said, leaning down to wrap Tyr in a light hug. "Don't you dare scare me like that again, please. I can't lose another foal."

Tyr opened her mouth to make assurances that she was fine, and would also remain so, but the conversation with Faust continued to ring in her ears, and the snarl of threads hung before her sight. Wrapping her hooves around Celestia’s neck, Tyr said, “I promise to try my best.”

“Good,” Celestia said, keeping her voice low to avoid disturbing Cadence. “Now, why don’t we see what they have in the kitchen.”

* * *

Applejack rubbed the back of her head as she watched her friend, the clatter of the train creating a calming background noise. "Ah still don't understand why you wanted us along, Rarity."

"Why, it's only the Summer Fashion Show, the premiere gathering of Equestria's fashion elite!" Rarity clapped her hooves together, stars shining in her eyes and an excited giggle making her tremble.

"Uh-huh," Applejack muttered, nonplussed, "But why am Ah and the Crusaders coming is what Ah don't get. Fluttershy I can sort of understand, what with her short modelling career." Applejack waved over to where the pegasus sat trying to contain the three fillies. "But me? I ain't got no reason to go rubbing noses with them snooty Canterlot ponies."

"Not even for moi?" Rarity pressed a hoof to her chest in an air of false indignation.

"It's just, Ah should be at the farm with Mac and Granny, not scampering off for a weekend of frou-frou," Applejack immediately responded, falling for the trap.

"But if you weren’t here who would I get to supply the hors d’oeuvers for the after-party? So it is partially business related, if spending time with your friends isn't reason enough."

Rarity stuck out her lower lip ever so slightly, making Applejack cringe and wriggle uncomfortably on her bench.

Then she did something Rarity didn't expect: Applejack started to cry.

"Ah'm sorry Rares, Ah didn't mean it like that," Applejack said, furiously scrubbing tears from her eyes.

"Darling, are you okay?" Rarity asked as she dropped the little teasing barbs that had been readied on her tongue. Instead leaning over to place a concerned hoof on Applejack’s withers.

Taking a steadying breath, Applejack nodded, "Y-yeah, just peachy. Ah've just been prickly these last few weeks, like a Timberwolf with a cracked paw." Applejack then clapped her hooves together as the city perched on the side of the Canterhorn came into view. "We've all not been ourselves since the others left."

Fluffing her coiffure with one hoof, Rarity said, "That is true, I certainly haven't —girls! If you don't settle down this instant, you'll all be grounded to your rooms in the Palace until we return home. There will be no cake, no exploring the palace and making mischief, and certainly no crusading! Am I understood?!"

Rarity's voice cracked through the train-car like a whip, her eyes almost burning as she glared down towards where the three Cutie Mark Crusaders had been playing. All three sat frozen mid-heated argument, Sweetie Belle between Scootaloo and Apple Bloom, keeping her two friends from clobbering each other. With mouths hanging open, they chorused a 'Yes, Rarity,' before sitting primly on their couch, hooves tucked in front of them and overly innocent smiles plastered on their faces.

"Much better," Rarity smiled back, turning to continue her conversation with Applejack, only to find the farmer staring at her.

"Rares, what in the hills was that about?"

"Oh, I, uh, didn't want them to get hurt?" Rarity's voice faltered with uncertainty, the unicorn turning away as a deep blush burned onto her cheeks. Fluttershy walking along the train-car and giving her a curious expression only deepened the blush. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at your sister, or Scootaloo, like that," Rarity hastily apologised.

"Aw, shoot, I ain't concerned about that. Me and Mac yell at her worse when she's being a hooffull. What shocked me was seeing you yell like that at your sister. I've seen you lose your temper, but never at Sweetie. Is something else going on you want to talk about, Sugarcube?"

A few small drops of unladylike sweat prickling at her brow, Rarity shied away from Applejack and Fluttershy, the pegasus staying silent but intently listening to the conversation.

"Um, n-no, there is nothing at all." Rarity gave a weak laugh that she knew Applejack had to see through.

She was thankfully saved from being called out on her lie as the train pulled into Canterlot Station, the engine's whistle, the squeal of brakes, and the conductor's voice working together to end any conversations. For the next few minutes the three worked in a concert of organised chaos as they corralled the Crusaders, got their luggage, and disembarked from the train.

"Now, remember, we have reservations at Ratatouille for dinner," Rarity said as she left the train, Applejack, Fluttershy, and the Crusaders trailing, with one of the train's porters straining beneath her mountain of cases behind them.

"Lady Belle, it has been too long," said a smooth and measured voice as they stepped off the train.

Rarity just barely suppressed an undignified squeal as she turned and saw Fancy Pants standing near the exit, a porter at his side. Smiling demurely, Rarity crossed the platform as her luggage was unloaded onto a trolley.

"Fancy, it has been too long," Rarity said, holding up a hoof for Fancy to kiss.

"Indeed, it has," he said, his voice slightly tighter than normal. "It feels like a lifetime since your last visit."

Pressing her lips together, Rarity's eyes performed a quick inspection, and what she saw shocked her. Fancy's vest had ever so slight creases in it, indicating he'd slept in it at least once. The remnants of a faint stain below the breast pocket only further confirmed her suspicions. His mane lacked its normal bounce and shine, while barely perceptible bags hung under his eyes.

"Dear, you look absolutely dreadful," Rarity gasped, covering her mouth with a hoof.

Fancy looked like he was about to argue, then he just gave a non-committal shrug, saying, "The manor has not been the same since Fleur left."

"Oh, I understand completely. Ponyville has felt so empty since the girls left on their little adventure. But it is only for a few months. They'll all be back, safe and sound, by Autumn."

"Indeed," Fancy agreed, though his voice held little conviction.

Rarity frowned as she began to lead the small group towards the exit, and the waiting pony-drawn carriages. She'd never seen a friend looking so down. Well, not since the time Pinkie thought everypony was avoiding her and didn't want to be her friends. A ridiculous notion, given Pinkie's zest for life, even if she could be a bit overbearing at times with her antics.

Deciding that she had to do something to cheer the stallion up, Rarity slowed as dozens of possibilities began to swim and take shape. Several she discarded quickly, a new suit would hardly help Fancy out of his malaise, nor some bejeweled bauble. He did rather enjoy himself at garden parties, Rarity mused, the perfect idea leaping to the fore. She was going to host a simple after-party for the fashion show already, and with a few alterations, she could turn it into a wonderful garden party. She just needed the right venue.

The palace, of course! Rarity gained a wide, proud smile. She was already staying there, and she was certain the Princesses wouldn't mind lending their beautiful garden for a soirée. Some nice wine, good company, and Fancy Pants would surely feel more like his old self, if just for the evening. Rarity held no illusions that it would cure him completely of his ennui. Only Fleur's return would be up to that task.

Finding the time to speak privately with one of the Princesses turned out to be harder than Rarity first assumed. Celestia and Luna were both in their private studies working on some hush-hush endeavour. Princess Cadence was likewise nowhere to be seen. The scuttlebutt among the palace's staff stating that she too had withdrawn from the public eye.

It was while she was asking a baker —who was in the middle of creating a truly monstrous chocolate fountain— that Rarity caught a break and learned that Cadence was foalsitting, or something to that effect, for the Ambassador of the Crystal City. Leaving her friends to settle into their rooms, Rarity made the short trek to the Palace's gardens.

Trotting up the paved walk towards the aviaries, Rarity heard a filly laughing, followed by Cadence's own crystalline voice. Speeding up, Rarity rounded the building and saw the princess and Tyr.

All at once Rarity felt like she'd been bucked in the gut by Applejack, her insides twisting as she watched princess and filly playing and gambling in the small garden.

Tyr noticed Rarity first, halting mid-jump as she turned to see who had intruded.

"Greetings," she said, her breath a little short, "I remember you. You're one of Celestia's heroes, right? Lady Rarity Belle?"

Picking herself out of the grass, small clumps of green clinging to her coat, Cadence smiled broadly. "Rarity, it's good to see you again," the princess said as she and her foster-daughter approached.

Her coat felt like ants were crawling through it, making Rarity squirm as the princess drew up before her. Rarity tried to smile in return and remember why she had gone to find the princess. Party, it had something to do with a party.

"I-I, uh, I wanted to ask you for permission to host a moderately sized soirée in the palace's gardens," Rarity finally managed to say, her voice coming out a little strained and breathless as if it had been her romping and playing.

"Well, I don't think it would be an issue," Cadence hummed, rubbing her chin as she thought. "Why do you want to hold the party here, if you don't mind my asking?"

With a mental shrug, Rarity forced her thoughts back on track, and her eyes away from Tyr as the filly slunk off to hide behind some low bushes. Rarity explained what she had seen at the train station and how she wanted to do a little something to help cheer Fancy Pants up.

"If it is for Fancy Pants then you should invite Admiral Jib Sail and his wives, Lady Silver Tongue and Mrs. Primrose. He's the current head of the Board, though he's expected to retire in the next year or so. Fancy and Jib are old friends, if memory serves me. The Marchioness of Abbotsford is in Canterlot for the fashion show, and a little bird has it that she has taken an interest in a young and upcoming Lady recently. The Marchioness and Fancy have had a friendly rivalry the past few years, and her inclusion could go a ways to bringing him out of his depression. It also wouldn't hurt your fortunes." Cadence gave Rarity a significant look as she finished. "I'll also see if I can pry my Aunt and Luna into attending. He tried for a while to get one of us attend his Starlight Parties, but we were always too busy."

"Excellent," Rarity barely avoided squealing with delight, turning it into a semi-lady-like giggle. "Oh, how are you and Tyr doing?" Rarity then asked.

Cadence sighed, an ear twitching. The same ear had been following the progress of Tyr as she slunk and shimmied between the various bushes. Based on the movements Rarity suspected the alicorn turned unicorn was somewhere off to her right.

"It's been... different," the princess admitted. "I've foalsat for many important herds throughout the long years, as you know. But it's odd always being there. To be the one she cries for when she gets sick, or having a bad day and needs to talk. Last week I had a Parent-Teacher interview even. It was... Interesting."

"Yes, foals can be such a hoofful," Rarity agreed, letting a slight smile tug at the corner of her mouth. It took her a few seconds to notice the odd look Cadence was giving her. "I had to help raise my sister," Rarity hastily explained, "Our mother is the captain of a merchant vessel and would be gone for months, or longer, at a time."

"What about your father, or his other wives? Or was your parents’ herd a..." Cadence let her voice trail off and she gave a polite cough.

"Oh, no they weren't, uh, those. Our mum lost her co-mother to a storm off the Marelantians shortly before Sweetie was born. Mum had taken time ashore to deliver, and Crest was given the ship. S-she was knocked over the head by a block and never woke up." Rarity scoffed at the ground, the memories of those days still fresh in her mind. The looks of complete devastation on her remaining parents' faces when they received the news was seared into her memory. It had been the reason her father had decided to move from Shelmareston inland to Ponyville. But the sea ran too deep in her mother’s veins for her to stay away.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up painful memories," Cadence said.

"It's alright," Rarity quickly said, shaking off the memories. Taking the opportunity, Rarity stood to leave." So, the garden party will be held here?" When Cadence confirmed, Rarity gave a brisk smile, and called back, "Thank you Princess," in a sing-song voice.

Rarity gave a little squeal of delight. There were plans to be made, and only a few days to make them. Between the fashion show and party, she would have her hooves full, each requiring different touches. But it would be worth it, she just knew it. Rarity couldn’t wait to see Fancy Pants’ face at the garden party.

* * *

"See, Fluttershy, dear, this isn't so bad," Rarity said as she took a sip from a wonderfully full and fruity Pinot Noir.

Fluttershy, for her part, gave a simple murmur of agreement that was lost in the sea of gentle hub-bub of conversation they were immersed within. The party wasn't precisely small, but it wasn't one of the wild and packed parties Pinkie often threw in Ponyville either. Instead it was a happy medium, but still enough ponies that Fluttershy felt her wings constantly jittering as she tried to hide behind her mane and the ice sculpture of Princess Celestia beside the hors d’oeurvres table.

Even the Royal House was in attendance. Celestia and Luna mingling, having arrived after putting the sun to bed and bringing forth the moon, while Cadence and Shining Armour laughed politely at some joke Fancy Pants had said near the statue of Equis Victorious. Fluttershy didn't see either Tyr or Prince Blueblood. It would have been odd to see the filly, given that publicly nothing had been said about her. Fluttershy had the distinct impression that Tyr was being kept a bit of a secret.

Or she was in bed. That was a strong possibility too, Fluttershy privately thought as she slunk towards the table to get a glass of wine. She didn't normally drink wine, but Rarity had put so much effort into the party and selecting the drinks that Fluttershy knew she had to try a little for her friend. Timing her approach just right, she darted forward, poured herself a small glass, and turned to find herself nose to nose with The Admiral.

Admiral Jib Sail was a light coated unicorn with a thin, fading mane that was swept back and shone with oils and perfumes. Scars covered much of his visible hide, the compass cutie mark on his left flank split into two ragged halves. He gave Fluttershy a wide smile that showed his many missing teeth.

"Lady Fluttershy, it is a pleasure to see you out and about," the Admiral said, sweeping up one of Fluttershy's hooves so he could place a gentle kiss upon it. "After I read that you had retired from the public life after your short, but highly spoken of, modeling career, I thought never to see you about Canterlot again."

"O-oh, um, yes," Fluttershy felt her mind go a complete blank, like white paint had been poured into her thoughts.

"So, Princess Twilight should be just about reaching the Zebrican coast about now, if they had fair winds and fair seas," the Admiral gave a hearty laugh, thumping the table as he shouted, "Touch wood and scratch a backstay."

"I-I wouldn't know. I've never—."

"Yes, they should make land somewhere off the Arquipelago dos Bijagos if I know Captain Hardy, and I should since he was a midshipstallion of mine aboard the Charger in '44," the Admiral said as he refilled his glass. Fluttershy tried to slink away while the Admiral was distracted, but found him right beside her again, a hoof tossed over her withers, as he began to talk about ships, and wind, and a lot of things Fluttershy couldn't begin to follow.

"Did I just hear you correctly, Admiral?" Rarity asked, her voice dripping with excessive sweetness as she appeared beside a trembling Fluttershy. "Did you just say that Lady Chastity took the Queen Awning's Retribution in '43? While heading from the port of Mozamba to Brest? And in a brisk northerly wind?"

For a few moments Rarity gave the Admiral a harsh eye, the elderly stallion grinning wider and wider until both broke out into a chorus of dignified laughter.

Ears pressed flat against her head, Fluttershy said, "Um, I don't understand the joke."

"It seems our Lady Belle has something of the sea in her blood, is the joke," the Admiral said, magicing out a hoofkerchief to dab at the tears of mirth in the corners of his eyes. "Quite so, my Lady. It wasn't in '43, it was in '46, during the peace, and in seas heaving so terribly the crews had to fight their own ships as much as the enemy."

"Mother told me about that battle. She was in the South Seas at the time, transporting porcelain dolls if memory serves me. As I recall, the Lady Chastity took Queen Awning's Retribution by playing the prize, shot out the Queen Awning's Retribution's main-mast, and proceeded to put two broadsides through her galley windows."

"Oh, my," Fluttershy gasped, covering her mouth with her hooves. "Was anypony hurt?"

The Admiral gave Fluttershy a flat, sad look while Rarity winced. Fluttershy recognised the look Rarity gave whenever she had unknowingly said something hurtful or rude. Rarity said, "No, Darling, everypony was—."

"Tosh! The pirates were mauled something fierce," the Admiral barked, taking another gulp of his wine, his cheeks glowing a rosy red beneath his coat. "A hundred and fifty dead in three minutes. Captain Wild Beard himself had two of his legs shot off at the knees by chain-shot. Had himself propped up on a chair so he could continue to direct the battle until his ship was finally taken. A neat, quick, bloody action if ever there was one. By Celestia, what I'd have given to have been on the Lady Chastity's quarter-deck that day. "

Rarity was almost vibrating with rage, directed both at herself and the Admiral. Fluttershy had gone green and was visibly shaking, her stomach performing a dance so complicated it could have won awards on Broadway in Manehattan. She could picture it so clearly, Twilight, Pinkie, and Rainbow laying, face down and unmoving, in pools of their own blood. Just like in her worst dreams, the ones in that awful white citadel. Fluttershy began to tremble as the images tumbled through her mind.

"Oh no, and Twilight, Pinkie, and Rainbow are on one of those ships right now." Fluttershy's trembling increased until she was almost creating small tremors in the ground.

Trying her best to control her features and diffuse the situation, Rarity gave Fluttershy a reassuring smile and said, "Oh, don't worry for our friends. They are aboard a Third-Rate Ship-of-the-Line. The largest Privateer afloat is that wicked, and unfashionable, Captain Bloodrose, and I can guarantee you she wouldn't dare try to harm our friends."

"R-really?" Fluttershy sniffed, trying to reclaim some of her confidence and composure.

"Indeed," Rarity said with a stern nod. "She knows what I'd do to her if she did."

The Admiral arched a brow, a dark chuckle rumbling through his throat. "Ha, a good jest, Lady Belle, but Bloodrose answers to no mare or stallion. Still, I doubt even she would want to tangle with a ship of Their Majesties' Royal Navy, especially one with a princess aboard. T'would be suicide."

Grinding her teeth, Rarity said towards the oblivious pony, "Yes, indeed."

"Furthermore," the Admiral continued, "I was under the impression you've seen more than your share of action yourself, Lady Posey. Why, weren't you and the other Elements in Appleloosa for the end of the border skirmishes with the Buffalo? And your role in the Battle of Canterlot last summer is well known. That was the first major battle the Equestrian Royal Guard and Army has had in centuries."

"Admiral," Rarity interrupted the old pony, her voice tense like a bow ready to let loose an arrow. "Appleloosa was a glorified food-fight. A lot of posturing and beating of chests, but the worst injury any pony, or buffalo, suffered were sprained ankles or getting pie in their eyes. As for the Battle of Canterlot, dear Fluttershy hid behind the rest of us." Rarity puffed her chest out, laying a hoof on her friend's withers to still her trembling. "Fluttershy is an invaluable part of our group, but not as a fighter, but as a pony who ends fights with but a few words and a stern glare."

"Of course, of course, the Posey's are Mindshatterers," the Admiral nodded his head sagely. "Their lack of martial prowess is almost as legendary as their Stare. How foolish of me. My most humble and sincere apologies, Lady Posey," said the admiral as he took Fluttershy's hoof in his own and gave it a quick kiss leaving both mares speechless. "I am afraid I must beg your leave, my dears. I see my second wife has had too much of the red and seems to be accosting Princess Cadence. I better take her aside before she makes too much of a faux pas and traumatises somepony."

Letting out a relieved sigh, Rarity turned to Fluttershy, giving her dear friend a quick hug.

"You alright, darling?"

"Y-yes," Fluttershy muttered, her wings drooping a little. "You really think that the others are alright?"

"Think? I know," Rarity proclaimed, letting her confidence shine onto her friend. "Don't let the Admiral's words get to you, old salts like him don't have much sense when it comes to other ponies."

Fluttershy gave a meek nod, her mind churning over the Admiral's words. A large part of her wished she was with her friends. An even larger part wished she was curled up under the covers of her bed, or resting beneath the boughs of an oak glowing silver beneath the moon, resting her head against the soft feathers of a Northern Roc, or perhaps the course, black fur of a Barghest, his breath curling with little flames and his cute beady eyes glowing like embers.

It took Fluttershy several moments to realize she was wearing a dopey grin and Rarity was watching her, eyes piercing her with their concern.

"You alright, Fluttershy?"

"I'm sorry, Rarity, I was just a little lost in my thoughts, I guess," Fluttershy said, her voice beginning to trail off near the end.

"Darling, please, I'm a friend. If something is bothering you, all you have to do is say the word and we'll find a quiet corner where you can tell me all about it."

Fluttershy tried to reassure Rarity that she was all-right, just a little tense from being around so many ponies, but her voice faltered as she gazed towards the refreshment table and spotted Applejack, the farmer more green than orange.

"Oh dear, Applejack," Fluttershy cried in a whisper, quickly stepping towards her other friend with Rarity right behind her. "Are you alright? Do you need to lay down?"

"Nah, Ah'm okay, 'Shy. Just felt a little—," the remainder of Applejack's reassurances ended as she spun about and thrust her head into the Lynwood Gold Forsythia where she proceeded to throw up the wine and food she'd eaten. "Okay, maybe I could do with a lie-down," Applejack conceded, giving her friends a sad, sheepish look.

Quickly scanning the still bustling party, no pony having noticed the event, Fluttershy said to Rarity, "I'll take Applejack back to our rooms. It would be noticed if you left your own party."

"You sure?" Rarity asked, holding back Applejack's mane as the farmer thrust her head back into the bush. Fluttershy just gave a quick, almost bordering on forceful, nod, to which Rarity responded, "I'll be up as soon as I can get away. You just rest, Applejack."

Quietly slipping out of the garden, Applejack hanging her head low, the pair made their way up to their rooms. Just as Fluttershy was kicking the door shut, Applejack leapt forward again, disappearing into the bathroom. Fluttershy didn't need to hear her friend's retching to know what was happening.

"How are you doing?" she called through the bathroom door, fidgeting her hooves and wings as she waited for a response.

"Just peachy, 'Shy," Applejack groaned in response, "Just peachy."

It was several long, gut churning, minutes before Applejack emerged from the bathroom, her eyes hanging with deep bags beneath them.

"This is the worst stomach bug Ah've ever had. Every time Ah think Ah've kicked, it comes right back," Applejack groaned as she crawled into her bed, dragging over a waste bin.

"Really? This has been going on for a while?" Fluttershy asked, gently stroking her friend's mane with a hoof.

"'Bout a month now, Ah reckon. Thought of seeing the doctor a couple of times, but then it would seem to clear up."

Nibbling on her lower lip, Fluttershy knew what the symptoms Applejack described sounded like. But it surely couldn't be that, could it? No, no, it couldn't be. But, maybe it was.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Fluttershy asked, "Applejack, you're not pregnant, are you?"

Applejack gave a mirthless chuckle as she shook her head. "Ah can't be 'Shy. Ain't never been... well, with a stallion, if you get my meaning." Applejack pulled and tugged at her sheets, resting her chin on the bed's edge. "Ah can't be," the farmer muttered again to herself as she slowly drifted off to an uneasy rest.

* * *

"Come in," General Hydros barked, the door to her office swinging open before her voice died away. Expecting the interruption to be more reports on the progress of the new recruits to the army, Hydros thrust a claw towards a corner of her desk and said, "You can leave them there."

"Excusez-moi?"

The sharply accented Prench voice caused Hydros to snap her head up, her remaining eye focusing in on the intruder to her office.

A tall, shapely unicorn stood leaning against the rough stone door frame. Her coat was a light blue in the flickering torchlight. Her mane, white with a thick band of red, hung over the right side of her face, covering one of her ruby eyes, the tip spiralling into a single tight curl. As she sauntered into the office, a playful wiggle of her hips showed off her full flanks and the red-white crossed rapiers that were her cutie mark.

"Who are you, and why are you in my office?" the general asked, one claw slowly reaching for the sword hidden beneath her desk.

"My name, mon amie, is Noblesse Oblige. You may call me just Noblesse," the unicorn gave a playful smirk as she sat on a low bench in front of the desk. Rouge magic playing along her horn, she plucked a pair of grapes from a bowl on the desk's corner and popped them in her mouth.

A weary sigh escaped Hydros as she stopped reaching for her sword. This was one of two things; an assassination, in which case the unicorn was skilled enough to infiltrate the aerie, slip past thousands of soldiers and guards, and reach the general's office without raising an alarm; or she was selling information. Given the lack of weapons, Hydros was ever so slightly leaning towards the latter. Though one could never be sure with magic-users.

Hydros despised them for that very reason, as did most proper and honourable griffons.

Magic was for tricksters and blackguards, it had no use other than to cause suffering. That the King allowed any practitioners to stay in the Aerie was only because it would have been unwise to have no council on matters of magic, should such council be needed.

"Why are you here, Miss Noblesse?"

"I am here to offer an exchange." Noblesse was like a cat smiling at a mouse, her eyes and lips fairly screaming ill intent. "You are aware of the change in the stars, Non?"

"How they have been moving and swishing about? Yeah, you'd have to live in a cave not to have noticed. Your point?"

"Are you aware of the cause of these displays? These... dances?"

Letting out a frustrated growl and drumming her talons on the desk, Hydros rested her head in the palm of one claw. "No. The High Magician has claimed it is wicked spirits and dark portents of the end of the Aerie. Pah, the fool doesn't know his beak from his butt."

Noblesse let out a sharp burst of laughter, a hoof lifting up to cover her mouth.

"In a way, your magician is correct." Noblesse shifted forward, leaning against the desk and fixing Hydros with an intense stare. "There is a new Alicorn."

It took all Hydros' years of politics and military service not to give any outward indication of the sharp stab of fear that pierced her heart as if the unicorn had hurled a spear at her rather than words.

"An Alicorn, you say, like, the princesses of Equestria?" Hydros asked, trying to keep her voice both interested and incredulous at the same time, while also readying herself to leap across the desk and tear out the unicorn's throat.

"Oui, just the same. She was even crowned at the end of Celebration of Life," Noblesse said, either not noticing or not caring about the tenseness of the general.

Hydros relaxed a little as it became clear Noblesse wasn't speaking about Talona. The foal had never been officially crowned as a princess, and griffons didn't follow the Celebration of Life like the equine races. Though Noblesse could have just been using it as a familiar reference of time. Something about the unicorn, however, made Hydros confident she wasn't speaking about the foal currently in the roost.

As it became clearer that Talona wasn't the focus of the unicorn's clandestine visit, Hydros leaned further across the desk, her curiosity rising. There was a reason that this new Alicorn of Stars had been mentioned.

"What does it matter what Equestria does. It is half the world away, across the Marelantic Ocean."

"It should concern you, général, since she is coming here, to this very aerie."

For the second time, fear stabbed deep into Hydros. An Alicorn coming to the Aerie. There was only one reason for such an unprecedented visit: Talona. As far as Equestria knew or was concerned Bloodrock was still the preeminent aerie. If the journey to the griffons was diplomatic in nature, that would be the more logical aerie to visit. It was larger and used to be stronger. But, again, Equestria couldn't be aware of the shift in power among the aeries. Not yet, anyways.

As if reading the general's mind, Noblesse said, "This got us to wondering; Why is the newly crowned Princess Twilight visiting the smallest, youngest, and weakest of the griffon aeries, and before traveling to any of the pony nations? There has to be a reason, given Celestia herself has never publicly left her nation since she won that war with her sister. There must be a very good reason to snub the entirety of the Old Kingdoms, non?"

Clearly savouring the moment, Noblesse plucked another grape, and slowly ate it, letting a heavy silence descend on the office while Hydros waited for the unicorn to continue.

"Then we got a most interesting dispatch from our embassy in Canterlot." Jumping from the bench, Noblesse again summoned her magic. Out of thin air appeared a scroll bound in tri-coloured tape; blue, white, and red. Dropping the scroll on the desk, Noblesse continued, "Our Ambassador abandoning her duty to her nation and home in order to travel with the princess and take a leave of absence for 'personal reasons'."

"Please, just get to the point already. I am very busy," Hydros swept a talon towards the stacks of papers, "And would like to get this done before I have to meet with my brother, the King."

"So rude," Noblesse huffed, lifting her nose into the air. "But, as you wish."

Sitting back down, she folded her hooves, a dangerous light behind her eyes.

"Prance is aware of just who, or should I say, what, is living in this aerie. One of the rarest of all the races in this world. Prance is also aware that it is to 'rescue' this foal that the new princess travels to Griffonia. You should also know that Prance has no interest in claiming or attempting to steal this foal for herself. Why our Ambassador to Equestria travels with the princess eludes us, but it is the position of my government that we are not taking a side in this coming conflict. Yet."

As Noblesse spoke, Hydros drew herself straighter and straighter in her chair. Fear and panic were gone, replaced by an odd calmness. The same serenity Hydros felt whenever battle was joined. Sliding open a drawer, she withdrew a bottle of aged Griffon Ale. Along with the bottle she produced two cups, filling both to the brim.

"Why are you so freely giving away this information?" Hydros asked as she took one cup for herself, and passed the other to Noblesse.

"Prance has found that when we do not wish to dirty our hooves, it is better to employ the use of others," Noblesse began, taking a careful sip of her drink after Hydros took a long, fortifying gulp of hers. "We do not wish to see yet another Alicorn fall into Equestria's hooves."

"So, you'd have us do your dirty work for you," Hydros fairly spat the words, contempt making her beak click.

"Please, think of it more like us both working in our best interests, Non?"

"If such a foal existed and was in this aerie, and I am not saying that is true, but if, if one was here, why not try to take her for yourselves?"

Noblesse gave a soft titter of laughter, setting her cup aside after a second small sip.

"If such a foal appeared again in Prance, Equestria would simply demand we turn her over to them. Our neighbors would no-doubt side with Equestria. Prance is not in a position to fend off all the other nations, no matter what the Ministry of Foreign Affairs may say."

"'Again'? I was unaware Prance had ever been in a position of being home to an alicorn," Hydros swirled her ale as she spoke, wondering what information about the reclusive, and so-called Goddesses, she could glean.

"Oui, you are terrible uninformed if you have not heard the legends of the Valley of the Foal." Noblesse tossed her mane, a slight smirk touching the corner of her red eyes. "But that is unimportant," she then said, waving a hoof before she stood and began to make her way towards the door. "What is important is that Princess Twilight Sparkle does not reach this aerie."

With those final words Noblesse slipped out and was gone. For several long minutes Hydros stared at the scroll that had been left on her desk.

A slight snarl pulling at her beak, she eventually plucked up the fine parchment, pony scrolls being much nicer and whiter than the rough, yellow paper of Griffonia. Snapping off the tri-coloured tie, she unrolled the scroll, eye flickering over its contents. Reading it three times to be sure she would remember everything, Hydros tossed the scroll into the fireplace. Pulling out a new sheet of parchment and a quill, Hydros scrawled a hasty set of orders, made a copy, and sealed both with wax and her signet ring.

Pulling on a bell-cord, Hydros barely looked up as her attaché marched into the office. In a gruff bark, she ordered the attaché to find the High Magician and bring him to the General. Later she'd find out just how Noblesse had slipped past the guards and scribes, for now she had orders to send. The first was addressed to the border-forts. Northern forts had already been put on alert following the successful Trial of Possession. All the remaining forts would have their garrisons bolstered and be put on alert for any unusual occurrences.

"You summoned me, sister?" sneered the voice of a snake.

Hydros didn't need to look up to know it was her younger brother. She could smell his dusty robes and hear the rap-tap-tap of his gilded staff. Finishing the last line of the next set of orders with a flourish of her quill, Hydros finally gave her attention to her brother. His de-clawed talons were wrapped tight about his ceremonial staff, while his eyes had a heavy lidded look. When he breathed Hydros could detect the heavy odor of opium.

"Pyrzan," the general began as she passed freshly written orders to the attaché, "We have trouble approaching."

"Trouble you say? No, it cannot be!" Pyrzan placed a talon to his breast as he gave a low, long sigh. Face hardening, he dropped the false affectation, saying, "I've only been warning you of this for the past month since that abomination was taken in by our dear, beloved, wise King." Sliding onto the bench Noblesse had occupied earlier, the High Magician continued, ignoring the furious glare leveled at him. "Our brother and you are fools both for bringing this blight upon our aerie. Nothing good, no, nothing good indeed, will come of it existing amongst our kind."

"If you start going on about lambs and wolves, Pyrzan, I swear I will strangle you myself," Hydros growled, rubbing at her remaining eye.

"Lambs and wolf indeed," chuckled the lounging High Magician. "Only, it is not the lamb, no, we are. You have brought a Power into this aerie, dear sister, one that will consume us all if we are not careful. That the King insists on treating and attempting to raise it as if it were one of our cubs is ludicrous." Pyrzan stopped bemoaning long enough to click his tongue and shake his head. Plucking up the almost full cup of ale, he asked, "So, who was your guest, and what did they tell you that made it so I was dragged from my laboratory?"

"The pony nations seek to play us against each other, brother." Hydros began, steepling her claws. Quickly she went through the important information gleaned from the brief encounter, her brother's eyes growing darker and darker as she spoke. When she was done, Hydros asked, "So, brother, what would you advise?"

The High Magician pondered the question for a good while, swirling the cup of ale in his clawless talons. At last he stopped the motion and looked up.

"I advise nothing. You and I both know what needs to be done, dear sister."

"Will you do it, though?" Hydros asked, and the threat in her voice could not have been clearer.

Bristling, Pyrzan said, "I know my duty, General. I may bemoan our King, and your, decisions behind these closed doors, but that does not make me any less loyal to our Pride. This will be seen to."

"Very good," Hydros said, waving a dismissive claw as she returned to issuing the needed orders. Before the High Magician slipped back through the door, she said, "And be careful, brother. The aerie can't afford to lose you."

He just gave a smirk in return, and then he was gone, plots and plans already dancing in his head.

* * *

The Seventeen Gates stood cold and passionless at the true base of Mount Alicornus. At the heart of the Gates stood a great arch of stone. Older than Tartarus and etched with eldritch runes that glowed a tempting midnight blue, few knew the site’s purpose or origins. Two of the only beings in existence to know both mysteries stood before the mighty edifice, for they were older still.

"It is as magnificent as I remember," Zeus laughed, his booming voice echoing across Tartarus' bleak and blasted wastes.

"Indeed," was all the response Hades gave him, the black alicorn striding forward with purpose to each step. He wore a conservative smile on his face, and if not for it Zeus would have told Hades to be less dour. "Do you know to which world they would have gone?" Hades asked as he stroked the arch much like he would his beloveds' necks.

Both loves of his life were gone; one slain, the other hiding on the surface. In time, Hades would make the journey to Gaea and beg for forgiveness from his second wife, but not before he returned their daughter to her rightful place at his side. Then he, Hades, Lord of the Underworld and God of the Dead would find she who slew Hecate and smite her, if she yet existed.

His smile grew grim at the idea, the runes beneath his hoof flickering at his touch.

"Nay, brother, but it is easy to guess." Zeus snorted once and drew forth a scroll of minotaur leather. "On this scroll is everything I learned from Cadence before grief utterly consumed her. They were attempting to create another gate when the armies of our children assaulted the Citadel of Light."

Hades snorted in contempt at the idea of creating a new gate. The Seventeen Gates were forged at the dawn of the innumerable worlds. None had been able to replicate them, for the gates had been woven out of thought itself when the rules of creation were unbound.

Pressing ahead through the interruption, Zeus laid out the scroll. On it were a series of notes and incantations. Pointing to the notes, Zeus said, "They were using a window to search through the nearby worlds, those that closest approximate our own, and searching for one where they would be safe."

"Safe? So, not one ruled by a Nightmare or Titans. That narrows the potential candidates down considerably. There are perhaps less than a dozen worlds where they'd be safe and the world would be close to our own Gaea where they'd feel comfortable and not out of place. I had begun to worry this journey of ours would take centuries. We may have this done by Summer's end. It was Summer on Gaea, yes?"

Zeus gave quick confirmation, Hades' smile growing at his correct assumption.

"So, where first?" Hades asked, clapping his hooves together. "Ammun? Toril? Ioka? Mundi? Perhaps Tamriel? No, not Tamriel, that realm would be too violent for them to believe it a safe haven, same with Toril. So, Ammun, Ioka, or Mundi? Which strikes your fancy more, brother?"

"As I recall, Ioka can be a violent place as well," Zeus tapped his chin, "though such can be said for all worlds. Ammun can be considered an idyllic paradise, in comparison, that almost rivals Elysium itself."

"So, Ammun then," Hades said as he began towards a small dais just before the arch.

"Nay, hold brother," Zeus commanded, holding up a hoof. "While Ammun is certainly a paradise, it strikes me that the Archons would not take kindly to our kind intruding on their grand experiment. Ioka and Mundi strike me as the smarter worlds upon which to hide. Near enough our own so that they will not be out of place, yet only a bare few of our number chose to settle upon them, two sisters in both cases, if I recall rightly. Yes, we will try one of them first, and should it prove fruitless, at least we will have pleasant company."

Zeus gave a lecherous chuckle as he strode towards his brother and the dais.

"Very good," Hades said as he began to channel the power of Tartarus, lighting up his horn with ghostly magic. "Which would you prefer first?"

"I leave it to your discretion brother. Either is equally probable."

"Very well," Hades growled, focusing his magic towards the dais.

Before his hooves, placed deep into the center of the dais, were seventeen different rune-stones. Lifting the rune-stones, Hades began to rearrange them, rotating the seven sided stones as they danced and swung overhead. Midnight blue magic, mirroring that coming from the arch, flickered from the stones, a low chiming tinkle of music beginning to filter through the wastes. Overhead storms gathered and thickened, the lurid red lightning crackling forth as Hades began to lower the rune-stones.

A wind whipped across Tartarus, tearing at the brother's manes and assaulting their eyes with obsidian sand. Around and around the gate it spun, the lightning joining the wind to snap and hiss against the arch. Increasing in tempo, the music and lightning moved faster and faster until the last rune-stone was placed and absolute stillness settled upon the wastes.

"The First Races sure enjoyed their theatrics, didn't they?" Zeus chortled.

Hades remained silent, concentrating on maintaining the delicate control of the wild magic still clinging to the air like a cloying mist. With a snarl, he struck the top of the Gate with a bolt of black-cored magic.

The chiming music became a harsh squeal, like violins being abused by foals, yet somehow still uplifting and making the blood surge. Spidery white threads of energy spread between the runes on the arch, each resonating with the primordial song. Deepening to a rumbling report, the music ended in a crack of thunder and the boom of an avalanche.

Held in the arch's arms was a pool of gently rippling quicksilver. Staring through the pool the brothers saw a field of sun bleached grass broken by dull orange stone and gravel. In the distance, almost to the horizon, a hazy line of mountains stood, the only break in the otherwise flat and empty land beyond.

Without speaking, the brothers quickly stepped forward, not hesitating as they entered the Gate. There was a moment where their coats tingled followed by a sharp stab of pain like a knife had been driven between their wings.

Gasping and gritting their teeth, they stepped out the Gate's far side and found themselves beneath the warming rays of a brilliant sun, where they promptly collapsed.

Rolling his shoulders, Zeus recovered first, grumbling as he stood on shaking hooves. Behind him the Gate had already closed, golden bars slamming down before the still visible rippling pool. Around the Gate were dozens of scorch marks from lightning that had mirrored the display in Tartarus.

"I shall never get used to the feeling of being separated from my Domain," Zeus grumbled as he tested his wings. "Even if it is for but a moment," he added as the storms and lightning of the new world awoke to his presence.

There was a moment of confusion as they began to notice Zeus, unused to having so intimate and complete a connection to a living entity. Ignoring the thousands of various storms across the world, Zeus offered a hoof to his brother. The storms had existed since the worlds birth without his input, they hardly needed it now, and Zeus had no interest in meddling in their affairs. He would draw on their might if he needed to, as was his right.

Hades slapped his brother's offer aside as he wobbled to his own hooves, a grim grunt working its way from his chest as he too made a primal connection to his Domain. Unlike his brother's storms, Tartarus was where it always sat beneath the mortal worlds, connected to all of them, though none as strongly as Gaea. This particular world's connection was somewhere in the middle range, neither strong nor weak. He could feel the flow of souls entering the great river Styx to begin their journey towards either Elysium or his own realm like a gentle rain against his coat when he concentrated.

"So, which is it? Ioka or Mundi?" Zeus asked as he peered off towards the distant mountains.

"I'll let you figure it out, brother," Hades laughed, testing his own wings and working out the last lingering effects of the gate. Looking around he gave a little frown. "Odd, where is this world's Cerberus? Those blasted hounds have been wandering off more and more."

"You should have used thicker chains."

Letting out an exasperated huff, Hades didn't dignify Zeus with a response. Instead he took to the sky with broad, powerful strokes of his wings, twisting and twirling higher and higher, enjoying the feeling of sunlight on his face after a thousand years shut in Tartarus. With no clear indication of where the nearest town or city lay, Hades headed north, for north was the direction the gate faced.

"You coming, brother, or does the Lord of Storms have a wing-cramp?" Hades shouted down to Zeus.

A playful smirk playing with his features, Zeus thundered into the air with one great thrust of his wings. In a moment he caught up to his brother and flew past, small storms crackling in his wake.

Chapter Thirteen: The Valley of the Eternal Foal

Myths and Birthrights

By Tundara

Part Two: Tremors in the East

Chapter Thirteen: The Valley of the Eternal Foal

A brisk easterly wind swept across the sea and the Bellerophon’s deck. The ship stood under an impressive spread of canvas, every sail she possessed having been thrown up in an effort to make up for lost time while the blessed trades blew. She fairly skipped over a mottled grey sea, a sea broken by a growing number of whitecaps. As the waters grew more contemptuous, the ship began to take on a more uncertain motion, and in due time the sails were trimmed —topgallants struck to the deck, the number of staysails reduced, and reefs put in the main and foresails— keeping the crew in brisk activity and the ship running at eight knots when the log was heaved.

There had been a fear of the doldrums, the island sitting close to the heart of the dreaded expanse of sea where hardly a breath of wind could be felt. Captain Hardy hadn’t left the quarterdeck all through the long watches, his gaze barely shifting from some point on the horizon. He only broke his vigil twice, once to ask Princess Twilight to have the stars behave themselves long enough for him to get a reliable reading and the other time to check his charts.

He hardly had to ask Twilight to contain the stars. Since the return of the missing three, only a few displayed any exuberance. Sirius was still missing, but as she wasn’t crucial to navigation her absence was hardly felt. The key stars were in their traditional places: Arcturas, Polaris, and such. That was all that mattered to the nautical mind. Captains across Ioka’s oceans all breathed easier that evening.

Assured that the Bellerophon was on the proper course, Hardy finally turned in as the ship struck five bells in the middle watch, a deep, resonating snore filtering through his cabin walls within moments of his head touching his pillow.

Since the funeral the ship had grown quiet and sullen. The loss of the Seaweed sisters in particular hit the crew hard. Both had been well liked by the lower decks and had survived bursting guns, fierce boarding actions, and hoof-rot. The sisters’ luck and tenacity had become something of a minor legend among the crew, and to have it end so decidedly had a swift, sobering effect upon the spirits of their mates.

There were no comments or prayers, but Twilight could feel the shift in the crew’s mood like a weight upon her back and chest. There were not even looks, certainly none directed at her, but in the enclosed world of a ship, the miasma that had descended could not fail to be noticed by even the most cloistered and unobservant. She barely had time herself to mourn for her cousin, even if he wasn’t really related to her any more than anyone on the ship, aside from one exception.

Faust, however, kept mostly to herself. After the funeral she had taken to the sky with no more than a few words that she would return before teleporting away in a flash of ruby magic. At first Twilight had suspected Faust was traveling to Canterlot to visit her long-lost daughters, but the tingle and direction of her magic was wrong. Twilight’s aunt had gone somewhere to the north, and from the amount of magic left lingering in the air like a cinnamon cloud, it had been a considerable distance.

Several hours later, Faust returned.

“Where’d you go?” Twilight asked, not looking up from the sheets of parchment before her. The scrolls contained the information on Zebrica; mostly historical accounts of gryphon oppression during the second empire —the collapse of the empire following the loss of Northrock Towers, the slave rebellions that followed, and the griffons’ slow withdrawal to the heart of their shattered empire featured prominently— or dry notes on trade deals. Very little information existed on the current leaders, or even their system of government, since the nation had been in a state of social and political unrest for the past several years. It had been this unrest that caused Zecora to cross the oceans and live in the Everfree. The not-quite xenophobic nature of the Zebras didn’t help.

Letting out a little grunt and stretching as she moved the latest parchment aside, Twilight looked to her aunt, waiting for an answer.

Faust placed a simple black box before Twilight on the desk, and said, “I visited my old home, collected a few things left hidden, and dealt with something I’d put off too long.”

“What is it?” Twilight asked, flipping the box open to reveal a long bone needle and pair of scissors.

“One of my needles,” Faust said as she moved to the galley windows.

Inspecting the needle, Twilight could feel ancient magic rippling from the seemingly plain construct. There were no markings or signs that the needle was anything more than it appeared and, if not for the aura, Twilight would have assumed it to be nothing more than a relic of a lost time; bone needles having fallen out of fashion long before ponies had crossed the seas and settled in Equestria.

“What does it do?” Twilight asked as she set it back in the box and gently snapped the lid shut.

“It’s used for sewing of course.” Faust gave the words a playful bounce, and Twilight could feel her aunt grinning like a wolf.

Twilight groaned as she massaged her temples. “I’m going to assume you mean the tapestry, shawl, or something of Fate,” Twilight said, resting her chin on a hoof.

“Tapestry or Weave, both work. The words used to be the same, ‘lanya’, actually, and are interchangeable in this case.” Faust moved away from the window and sat down across from Twilight. “Your cousins used such a needle recently on Tyr.”

“You know of Tyr?” Twilight asked, her head shooting up. Bonking herself over her brow, she added, “Of course you do. Duh, you’re the Namegiver.”

“Well, yes and no. It’s not particularly important in any regards,” Faust said, twirling the box around so it faced her. “What is important is what we are going to do with Athena.”

As one, both looked over towards the corner of the room, where, propped up against the bottom of Fleur’s cot, rested Athena’s sword. To Fleur’s credit, she hadn’t tried to cover-up or argue why she had lied to Twilight. She simply stated her reasons, then asked for forgiveness before asking to be led below by the master-at-arms. Fleur wasn’t under arrest, and given her position as an Ambassador, even if she had been she would still be given comfortable cabins and dined as a guest of the Captain and Princess on occasion until she could be ransomed back to Prance. The simple fact that Athena had saved the lives of the marines and sailors was enough reason to allow her amnesty. The list of names read at the funeral would have been much longer without her.

The worst that could be said was that she had lied to Twilight. Albeit, keeping quiet about Athena’s growing power could have proved disastrous. But it hadn’t. No harm had come because of the lie. Lives may even have been saved because of it; Twilight doubted she would have let Fleur join the expedition to the island if she had known that the spirit inhabiting Fleur hadn’t passed on.

Twilight also put a lot of the blame on herself.

She had been so consumed by her stars and the attack on the ship that she hadn’t properly questioned Fleur. Thinking back to the conversation they had shared, Twilight wanted to thump her face onto her desk.

“What do you think we should do?”

“Honestly,” Faust tapped her chin, deep in thought, “first, we shall have some of those wonderful pastries the current bearer of Laughter makes—”

“Cupcakes,” Twilight muttered, Faust continuing as if not hearing the correction.

“—And a pot of tea. Oh, it has been too long since I had real tea...” Faust’s eyes drifted off into a glazed stupor, her tongue peeking out to wet her lips. Snapping back to reality, she finished, “Then, I propose we ask Fleur up here, force this Athena to show herself, and then bind her to the Weave. Once that is done I can get a clearer look at things.”

In short order the tea appeared, along with some small cakes, as they continued to discuss their options. Through most of it, Twilight remained in a terse silence, lost in her own thoughts.

Tapping her hooves together, Twilight contemplated over the incident in the throneroom. “I’m not sure getting this Athena to show herself is such a good idea,” Twilight said, before explaining the little she knew about the spirit.

“How else would you propose we bind her to Ioka’s Weave, then?” Faust tilted her head as she waited for Twilight’s response.

“Honestly, I don’t believe it is a good idea at all,” Twilight grumbled. “Not after what I saw it do to Tyr.” She then indicated the ship around them, saying, “and not aboard this ship if she got violent.”

“Hmm,” Faust hummed as she peered past Twilight and out onto the Bellerophon’s wake, her eyes taking on a glazed hue. “It’ll be awhile before we make landfall,” she said, more to herself than Twilight. “That is a bit too long to postpone this encounter. No, we should do this soon. Right now in fact. Better to bind the wound then let it fester.”

“Wait,” Twilight said, lifting a pleading hoof, but too late.

In a swirl of magic, Faust lifted a small bell and gave it a hearty ring. To the guard that opened the door, she said, “Bring Fleur de Lis here.”

Hesitating, and looking to Twilight for confirmation, which she gave with an exasperated sigh, the guard saluted before heading down towards the gunroom. He returned minutes later with not only Fleur, but Pinkie and Rainbow as well. The latter came in holding a plate of lime pudding on her wing, the former was actually trotting, her poofy mane pulled back into a long naval braid, loose hairs springing from every knot, and her eye-patch firmly affixed.

Twilight couldn’t help but wince as the light cast through the windows highlighted the long scar that covered the left half of Pinkie’s face. Pinkie, however, smiled cheerily. From somewhere she’d gotten an old feathered hat and laced, double-breasted black and gold jacket. The ensemble managed to make her smile. In turn, Pinkie’s smile grew wider, her entire face seeming to glow.

Plopping down on cushions, Twilight’s friends remained conspicuously quiet while Fleur approached

“Your majesties,” she began, her voice holding the faintest of tremors.

“Fleur,” Twilight interrupted, tapping her hooves together gently. “Before we start, I’d like to say that I’m not mad, but I am disappointed.” Gently pushing away from the desk —It made her feel a bit too much like Celestia— Twilight walked around to stand in front of Fleur. “What I want to know is why you felt you had to lie to me about this. I thought you trusted me to help you?’

“I do. It’s just, she doesn’t.”

“She? As in...” Twilight made a slight gesture towards her head.

“Oui,” Fleur gave a weak, tepid nod. “She’s afraid of you, for some reason, and told me to lie. That, if I didn’t, it could be dangerous for everypony.”

“She’s concerned about becoming a Nightmare,” Faust stated, her face a mask of disinterested neutrality. Only her eyes betrayed the mask, Faust seeming to peer at and through Fleur at the same time. “Athena, I mean.”

Fleur tensed at the name, her mouth slowly working as she fought to regain her composure.

“H-how do you know that name, your majesty?”

“I heard it in the wind,” Faust said, giving her hoof a lazy wave. “How and where I know the name is unimportant. The important point here is what to do about Athena.”

“‘What to do’?” Fleur repeated the words, shifting a little as she looked between the two goddesses.

“I can’t begin to predict the effects of having the soul of an Aethyir trapped inside a mortal shell. You could burst into flames as her energy consumes you both. She could over-power your own soul, subsuming it into hers. Or perhaps kick it out, and take over your body for herself.” Faust began to walk, pacing around Fleur while she spoke. “Regardless of what happens, until she is bound she is a threat to the Weave.”

Stopping in front of Fleur, Faust gave a curt nod and said, “But my niece seems to think that attempting to bind your passenger would be a poor idea. I want to know your thoughts on the matter, however.”

“My thoughts?”

“Ugh, she wants to know if you want to do this binding thing or not,” Rainbow quipped from the side.

“I know that much,” Fleur sighed, “I’m simply confused as to why you are giving me the choice.”

“Why not? This affects you the most.” Twilight tilted her head a little as she spoke.

“Non, Princess, it does not,” Fleur slowly deflated, lifting up a hoof to look at it. “Athena and I... if we continue... I do not know where this path leads, but it will have drastic consequences for all the world. I can feel it in my heart.”

Twilight considered Fleur for a long moment, and as she did so she could feel it, a slight undercurrent in the aether. Had she not been looking for it, Twilight doubted she would have noticed it at all. The essence of an alicorn.

It was so faint and fleeting, a strand of gossamer dew in the morning breeze, but it was there. The few times Twilight had been with Tyr since the filly was fostered, she’d been able to sense the filly’s true nature with relative ease. It hadn’t been strong, but it was clear.

The feeling coming from Fleur wasn’t even a fraction the strength. Except it hadn’t been there the day before. Without intervention it would continue to grow until... What?

Twilight didn’t have the barest idea of what could happen, only baseless conjecture.

So she sat, chewing on her lip as she let her aunt take the lead.

“Can you let her out? In a controlled fashion so we may speak to her?” Twilight found herself asking, her thoughts having drifted back to the few things she’d been told about the battle with the Janus.

Fleur hesitated, then said, “Oui, I believe it may be possible, now.”

The tension in the cabin grew as Fleur settled her shoulders, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. For a few ticks of the clock nothing happened, then Twilight sensed a shift in the energy coming from Fleur. It grew, expanding to encompass the unicorn until she glowed like a star —but not a star, to Twilight’s alicorn senses. It was odd, the feeling being so familiar, yet so different as well. When Fleur opened her eyes they shone with inner light.

“I am here,” Athena said, her voice meshed with Fleur’s in such a way that it seemed to tremble.

“Good.” Faust lifted the box containing her needle from the desk, and placed it in her own hooves. “I’m going to tell you what is about to happen.”

Athena seemed neither startled nor angered at the coldly-put statement, instead she just watched, and waited.

“You will either depart this world, or Twilight and I will bind you to Ioka’s Weave. In doing so I will be able to see the effects of your presence here.”

“You can see my presence right now,” Athena barked, lifting up her stolen head as she laughed.

Grinding her teeth, Faust’s lip curled as she retorted, “You know what I meant.”

“Did I?” Athena lifted one of Fleur’s hooves to tap her chin. “I seem to have forgotten many things. What is this ‘Weave’, and why must I be bound to it?”

“Because you are a blight! A weed that I will pluck from my garden.”

Athena titled her head, glowing eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly. “A weed, you call me? Well, this weed has thorns. Try to remove me, and you may just get pricked.”

A hazy blue aura shrouded the blade in the cabin’s corner. It began to lift, tip dragging across the polished wood deck. As Twilight began to open her mouth to speak, Faust shot the sword a withering glare, ripping the magic away from the hilt. Before it could clatter to the deck, Faust picked the sword up in her own magic.

“If you mean to threaten me, Athena, you can hold your tongue,” Faust snapped, her wings flaring and the ship trembling as true anger rolled off her. “I am a true Aethyir, of the Far Realms, from when thought and reality were one and indistinguishable. You are as a foal next to me! Don’t try to play games. Feuyalyë ní!”

Twilight arched her brow at the unfamiliar words, though Athena seemed to understand them, the spirit bristling against insult.

“You will be bound to our world, or you will depart. If it comes to force, I will use it.”

Faust slammed the sword onto the desk.

Athena seemed to settle, the spirit frowning as she thought.

“If you do this, when I re-awaken I will be as unwelcome in my true home as you make me here,” she murmured.

“Yes, but you will be able to remain with your sister. Tyr has already been bound.”

The words made Athena shrink back, her jaw tightening.

“You would presume to steal her choice—.”

“I presumed nothing,” Faust spat. “My eldest made the choice for Tyr. Twilight has spoken on your behalf, and for that reason alone I have decided not to force this upon you. I will, however, not allow you to remain upon Ioka should you choose not to be bound. So, what is your choice.”

For a few seconds, Twilight thought Athena would attack Faust. The spirit set her shoulders, snarling as her lips pulled back to bare her teeth. Then she seemed to shrink a little, the fight draining from her as the light in her eye dimmed almost imperceptibly.

“Very well, I accept your terms.”

“Good!” Faust chirped, all signs of anger vanishing like a puff of smoke. Opening the box, Faust removed the needle. “Twilight, dear, if you’ll assist me?”

“O-of course,” Twilight hesitated, coming up beside Faust while watching Athena wearily.

She didn’t trust the spirit to surrender so easily. Athena had to be up to something, but what? The spirit stood tall and unbowed, her essence flowing around Fleur. Released from her mortal cage, the full power of Athena was... not overwhelming, not even that strong when compared to the ambient energy that Celestia or Luna would radiate. But it was different. Twilight assumed it was because the spirit was... well, a spirit.

From the tip of Faust’s horn flowed a strand of polished gold thread. It weaved and slid like a snake, threading itself through the needle’s eye. Even over the auras given off by Faust and Athena, Twilight could feel the magic filling the thread; strong and pure, like honey.

“This will be a variant on the spell my Tia used to bind Tyr to the Weave,” Faust explained as she took position opposite Twilight, Athena between them. “They were fostering the filly, and her being bound to the Weave was ancillary to their goals of making her temporarily mortal.”

One of Athena’s eyes flashed, a dark frown upon her muzzle.

“You would force an Alicorn into a mortal coil?” the spirit laughed darkly.

“Yes,” Faust hummed as she stepped forth, the needle hovering above Athena’s ethereal wings. “This is your last chance. You may still leave and attempt to return from whence you came.”

Athena shook her head.

“No, to do so I must pass through Tartarus. That would be... unwise...” Athena trembled, then shot Faust a defiant glare. “Better to remain with what little of my herd survives. Bind me to your Weave.”

Faust grimaced, her ears flicking in agitation and bowing her head as she said, “This will hurt,” while the needle darted forward.

There was little said beyond Faust issuing instructions to Twilight on how to move the needle, and when.

With each pass of the needle, with each stitch made, Athena screamed. Each time the needle approached, gold flames leapt from the spirit’s body, attempting to engulf the bone and thread, but unable to touch either. The flames coiled about the instrument, only to flow away, twining together to become a new thread itself.

The first shot across the cabin towards Twilight, fading just before touching the princess. Dozens more appeared as they worked, many heading out the west facing great windows. Some of the threads were thick and pulsed, more like rope cords, others were so small they could have been spidersilk.

Not once did the needle or thread touch Fleur herself, only ever passing through the nexus of energy clinging to her body. It felt like hours of work, the needle applied again and again in slow, monotonous motions until all Twilight knew was taking the terrible implement from her aunt before passing it back through the spirit.

At last they did finish, Fleur collapsing to the deck as all trace of Athena retreated back into the unicorn.

“Fleur, are you alright?” Twilight asked hesitantly as the ambassador raised herself onto trembling hooves.

“Oui, princess, I believe so,” she said. “I could feel that she was in pain, but I felt nothing.”

“Why would you?” Pinkie asked from where she’d been watching. Her face was a little pale, highlighting her scar in the fading afternoon light, and her mane was almost entirely flat, but she was smiling a genuine smile and her eyes had their playful twinkle. “It was the Puffy-wuffy Athena that was being all poked and jabbed.”

“I-I suppose so,” Fleur hesitantly admitted.

A lantern above Pinkie’s head blazed to life, the party pony thrusting up a hoof with a jubilant cry as her mane sproinged back to a semblance of it’s normal bounce.

“Ooo! You know what this calls for, girls?”

A simultaneous groan was issued by Twilight and Rainbow, the latter adding a face-hoof for extra measure.

“No, Pinkie, this doesn’t call for a party,” Rainbow snapped. “We just watched a dead pony’s ghost-thing get tortured! How does that justify a party?”

Twilight winced at the word ‘torture’, but she couldn’t object. What else could she call what she and Faust had done? Her heart squeezed a little at the realization.

Mane deflating a little again, Pinkie sniffed, “Well, I thought a ‘You don’t have to leave and can live with your sister and find your missing foal’ party was a good idea.”

“Pinkie, I have to agree with Dash, this isn’t the time for a party.” Twilight gave her head a slow, sad shake. “Fleur is still... in trouble,” Twilight looked to Faust for confirmation, but her aunt was staring off into nothing. “Plus, I don’t think the Captain would be too happy if you undermined his command any more than you already have, because we both know you’d turn the entire ship into a single, massive party.”

“Well, duh!” Pinkie rolled her eyes. “The foremast jacks and the rest deserve a party too!” Pinkie relented, however, crossing her hooves as she said, “Fine, no party, for now. But I’m putting this down in my Party Planner! One Super-Duper-Funtacular Party for Fleur, Theeny, and everypony on the Bellerophon!”

As she spoke, Pinkie pulled a large blue book covered in pink and yellow balloon stickers out of her mane along with a pencil, flipped the book open, and scribbled down several lines of notations.

“This will be the Biggest! Bestest! Party! Ever!” Pinkie cried triumphantly as she began to plan.

Twilight, Rainbow, and Fleur all shared uneasy looks. None of them saw the sadness in Faust’s eyes as she slipped out of the cabin, leaving the four other mares alone.

* * *

Above northern Espanya, in the region of Trotalonia, drifted a cloud. The anvil shape to its front made it look almost like a ship, one crackling occasionally with sheet lightning. Dull, heavy grey along the bottom, the cloud was just waiting to unleash a downpour of torrential rain, yet not a single drop was felt by those it passed over.

During the day, the pegasi had tried to break up the storm-cloud, for it could be nothing else. All their efforts proved futile, the cloud resisting all the kicks and attempts to divert its journey. Eventually the pegasi had relented, giving the cloud dark glares as it continued on a northerly course, contrary to the winds and the direction the smaller, fluffier clouds were traveling.

The pegasi could not know it, but the cloud had been ordered onto the course, and it could not disobey the command.

As night fell, and Twilight woke her stars, two figures emerged from the belly of the cloud.

High above, the stars begun to dance and move. Hades had been the first to notice it on the first night and rather enjoyed the wild and frenetic displays.

“Astraea never allowed her stars to roam so freely,” Hades observed, leaning against a small tuft of cloud. “I wonder if this world has a god or goddess that allows them such freedom, or if this is because there is none to keep them controlled.”

“Sisters, brother, it was a pair of sisters who came here. Where would they find mates? Among the mortals?” Zeus gave a long peel of deep laughter from the cloud couch he had formed. After a few moments the laughter stopped abruptly, and he said, “Actually, that is an interesting idea.”

Hades’ head snapped down, his eyes narrowing. “No, brother, we are here to find our lost daughters, not for you to bed pretty mortal mares.”

“Bah, like I would do such a thing, regardless. Their beauty would have to rival Artemis and Serene for them to even catch my eye.” Zeus gave his brother a wink.

“And Hera would have your stallionhood for garters if she found out your were having dalliances without her permission, again,” Hades added with a cruel grin.

“It only happened twice,” Zeus muttered, “and I still don’t know how she found out about Hemera.” Rubbing his head, Zeus paused before adding, “my only regret is how Hera maimed her.”

Hades’ raised one of his icy eyes. “That is your only regret of the whole affair?”

“Yea, it is!” Zeus thundered, the cloud under the brothers’ hooves crackling with lightning. “I do not regret siring Demea and Clouthea. I do not regret the ensuing games. We immortals need some diversions, afterall. But Hera went too far when she blinded Hemera. I failed to protect one of my mares.” Zeus stamped a hoof, the cloud launching a bolt of brilliant pink energy into the peak of a short mountain below.

“In that, brother, we are the same at least,” Hades sighed, turning back to gazing over the cloud’s edge.

Instead of watching the stars, he looked to the land below.

Their cloud was starting to cross a mountain range. Lower peaks, like the one Zeus’ bolt had struck, guarded much higher, snow-capped giants. There were many passes through the range, each showing a road and little specks of light from inns and villages. It was a fairly beautiful land, the cypress trees framing white cliffs, with healthy soil that provided small gardens and farms near the villages. Near the top of one of the mountains shone a semi-circle of lights, a monastery, if Hades were to guess.

Such things existed back on Gaea, though they were uncommon. The mortals’ need for quiet contemplation about the wishes of the goddesses and gods was odd, most of the alicorns made their desires very plain.

Hades began to look elsewhere when a slight tingle worked its way up his spine, making his ears perk up and his eyes return to the monastery.

There was an alicorn in the monastery, or near it.

“Brother, we seem to be nearing our destination,” Hades said.

Zeus lifted his head, breaking out of the sulking brought on by his short tirade.

“The cloud worked then,” he chuckled as he joined Hades at the edge. Scanning the mountains and monastery, Zeus pointed to a small cluster of lights near the mountain’s base. “Down there, in that village,” he said as he spread his ashen wings.

Together the brothers lept from the cloud and began to glide down towards the distant village.

“The feeling is so faint,” Hades noted as they approached, skimming low over the trees.

“Indeed,” Zeus grumbled, flicking his wings a little as they emerged above a simple village.

In the light of the moon the two alicorns made note of the old stone buildings and thatched roofs. Light spilled out from between shutters, the chilly mountain air crisp with the night. Hooves touching down on a well-worn cobble street, the two surveyed their surroundings quickly before following the tendrils of alicorn magic filtering through the dark. Above, the stars ceased their dancing as a clock tower struck nine times.

Up to a plain cottage, a bed of of lilies and orchids flanking the walkway, the brothers went. At the door— a simple, round door painted a vibrant green— Hades hesitated.

“Brother, perhaps we should hide our nature,” he suggested. “We know little of this world, and it may prove prudent not to reveal ourselves too soon.”

“Nonsense!” Zeus grunted, shoving past Hades to grab the door knock and give it a hefty bang.

For a couple moments they waited, a muffled voice calling from the home’s heart, before the door was pulled open. Surrounded in the light cast by glow-stones stood a beige unicorn. Her auburn mane was pulled into a tight bun, a streak of grey showing near her ears. Large, golden eyes grew larger still as she looked upon the pair of alicorns.

“Excusez-moi, m-mais qui êtes-vous et q-que voulez-vous?” she asked, her lilting voice faltering towards the end.

Hades and Zeus shared an exasperated glance.

“Do you recognise the language?” Hades asked, to which Zeus shook his head.

“No, but I don’t need to,” Zeus said with a smile, lighting his horn with magic. Electric blue light surrounded his ears and throat for a second before fading away. After a moment’s hesitation, Hades mimicked the spell. “Can you understand me now?”

The mare nodded slowly, squeaking out a simple, “Yes.”

“Good,” Zeus replied as he pushed his way into the cottage, practiced eyes roving over the humble wooden walls and the portraits and shelves covered with knick-knacks. “We seek one of our kind.”

“One of your kind?” She looked almost confused as she then asked, “I’m not sure what you mean, my lord.”

“It’s very simple, really. An alicorn is nearby,” Hades said, looking from the small kitchen to the stairs leading to the second floor.

For a moment, the mare looked between the two intruders, then she gave a terse laugh.

“I’m afraid you must be mistaken. There are no alicorns in Prance.”

Zeus and Hades both ignored her, the latter heading for the stairs and the former towards the dining room. Neither needed to have bothered, as out of the dining room stepped a unicorn filly.

Her coat was a royal blue that darkened to almost black along her back and withers. Her mane was a shimmering sheet of polished silver that draped over her curvy neck like a waterfall glowing beneath the moon, pinned by a ruby and pearl brooch. Wide, fearful, pink eyes darted from one brother to the other, her mouth opening and closing a few times as she struggled to find words. But most interesting of all, was that Hades could feel the small shard of divinity the filly contained like a second, pulsing heart.

“Mama, what’s going on?” she finally managed to ask, slowly backing away from the stallions.

“Nothing, my little blossom, go to your room,” the mare commanded, to which Hades gave a cold laugh.

“Stay, little one, we have questions for you,” Hades said, pointing to a couch. “Do not fear, we mean neither of you any harm. Sit, sit, and be at ease.”

The mare and filly did as they were told, though reluctantly. Hades had to commend the mare, there was hardly a tremor of fear in her as she positioned herself between the filly and the brothers. Zeus sat down on a threadbare cushion, grumbling a little to himself as he attempted to get comfortable. Hades just leaned against the wall, peering through a crack in the shutters out on the night. The cloud he and Zeus had used to find the filly lingered, curling about the moon like the fingers of a minotaur and shrouding the valley in shadow.

“Who is your mother, your real mother,” Hades eventually asked, turning slowly to the filly.

Unlike her guardian —whom Hades had no doubt wasn’t the mother— the filly was visibly trembling.

“Don’t talk to my daughter with that tone,” the mare interjected, snorting as she returned glare for glare. “You have no right to force your way into our home.”

“No right?” Hades gave a sour laugh. “I am Hades, that is all the right I need.”

“And I am Jardin Rêves, and this is my daughter, and my home!” Jardin shouted as she jumped to her hooves, marching across the short divide between her and the alicorn.

From his cushion Zeus laughed.

“I know that tone. Hera’s used it enough times.” Still laughing to himself, Zeus made a calming gesture as he said, “Please, madam, we mean no disrespect. We have come far searching for others of our kind. We expected to find two like us, sisters who ruled this world. Imagine our surprise when we felt the essence of an alicorn in this valley, followed it to your home, and found your daughter instead.”

“The essence of an alicorn? No, that is impossible. All the alicorns live in Equestria,” Jardin said as she slowly returned to the filly’s side. “Legends speak that during the Old Kingdoms this valley was home to the alicorns, and is still known as the Valley of the Eternal Foal.”

“‘The Valley of the Eternal Foal’,” Hades muttered, rubbing his chin. “An alicorn was raised here, then?

“So the legends say. They also say she died, killed by unicorns seeking her immortality for themselves, and with their arrogance cursed all unicorns to dreamless nights.” Jardin sent a glare of pure loathing at Hades, while to Zeus she said, “If you are satisfied, I would appreciate it if you left our home now.”

“My fair lady, I could do no such thing.” Zeus gave a short bow, giving Jardin his widest, most charming smile. Hades had to fight to hold back his groan as Zeus swaggered towards the mortal mare, took one of her hooves and placed a kiss upon it. As he laid his lips upon her, his horn flashed with magic, a slight glow reflecting beneath Jardin’s eyes. “Lying to us is futile, we know that your ward is more than meets the eyes. There are still many unanswered questions. Such as how you came to be this filly’s guardian. How did you come by this darling, little filly?”

“I found her on the Jour de la Nuit, three years ago. I was out in the woods trying to find the path to Canigó, hoping the monks would know why the sun had yet to rise. I had begun to despair that I would never find the right path when a pillar of rainbow light descended from the heavens only a short distance away. As it vanished the sun rose. When I went to investigate, I found my precious Soir sleeping before the mouth of Caverne du Poulain. She had no memory nor any idea where or who she was, it was truly a miracle.”

Hades and Zeus shared surprised looks. The description of a rainbow pillar felt familiar, though Hades was unsure where he had heard of it before. Zeus also looked thoughtful, the God of Storms slowly stroking his beard as he stood.

To the filly, he asked, “Can you tell me your name?”

“I-I, um, Abbott Vin Framboise said I have to be very careful with my real name,” she said hesitantly. “Everypony in the village calls me Soir Rêves.”

A slight glimmer catching his eye, Hades peered at Soir’s brooch. It was glowing with a soft, comforting light. Looking closer, he swore he could see an eye in the central ruby, one staring at Zeus with curiosity. The eye in the ruby noticed Hades peering at it, blinked, and was gone.

“Greetings Soir, I am Zeus, God of Storms and King of the Alicorns.”

Soir inched forward, pinching her brow together, asking, “Are you really a god? Abbott Vin Framboise says that the princesses of Equestria are really Goddesses, and that we should look to them for guidance over the parliament; that no government run by mortal ponies can compare to the guidance and prosperity that the princesses have brought to Equestria. He says the breakup of the Holy Prench Empire, and the wars that have been fought since between the countries that have taken its place, while Equestria continues to grow and thrive, is proof.”

“You are a smart filly,” Hades chortled. “And this Abbott sounds like a wise pony.”

“He’s okay.” Soir shrugged, then she surprised Zeus and Hades when she said, “Now, please remove that spell you put on mama. That’s not a nice thing to do.”

Laughing again, Zeus cancelled the spell. Hades ground his teeth. His brother’s constant mirth was starting to get tiresome. This entire conversation was tiresome. They needed to find their missing daughters. This filly, whether she was a demi-goddess or goddess in hiding, wasn’t part of either of their herds.

“You,” Jardin snarled, stroking Soir’s mane as she faced Zeus. “I want you to leave. Now. And be thankful I don’t contact the authorities for bewitching me.”

“Very well, we have little interest in either of you, really.” Zeus began to make his way towards the cottage door. “Say, which way is this Equestria you mentioned? Is it far away?”

Jardin looked absolutely flabbergasted, her mouth hanging open and eyes bulging slightly from her head. “It lies beyond the Marelantic Ocean, far to the west,” she said slowly, clearly looking to see if this was another trick.

“West you say? Across an ocean? Very good! Come, Hades! We have a long ways to go still it seems,” Zeus said as he trotted briskly from the cottage, Hades wearily trailing behind. “I can see you’re tired, but you’ll be able to rest when you’re dead.”

Taking another couple steps, Zeus stopped, perked his ears forward, then gave out the loudest laugh he had yet that day.

“‘Rest when you’re dead’! Ha-ha!”

Reaching the end of the path. they then turned onto the road, the cottage becoming hidden by a hedgerow. Zeus stopped at once. Poking his head into a small gap between the hedges, he gestured for Hades to stop.

“Brother, what are you doing?” Hades asked, letting out all his exasperation in a long sigh. “We have—.”

“Far to go, so on and so forth, cross an ocean,” Zeus muttered in a rumbling undertone. “Relax, brother, I suspect that the filly’s true mother will reveal herself shortly. You saw her watching us with that brooch, yes?”

“Of course,” Hades gave a derisive snif. “But you honestly expect her to come here, now?”

“Why, certainly! No other reason for that filly to have such an artifact in her possession. And you heard the story.” Poking his head back out of the bushes, Zeus tapped the side of his nose. “Something else is going on here. I can smell it, brother.”

“So?” Hades started to trot away, saying, “It isn’t our concern. This isn’t Gaea, brother.”

“No, it’s not,” Zeus agreed, head once more in the hedges, “But I am the King of the Alicorns, and one of my subjects is living with a mortal. I’m curious to know why.”

Not slowing Hades began to spread his wings. “What does it matter. Once we find our daughters, if they are upon this world, we will return to Gaea and whatever games the sisters have going here will continue.”

“True, but I am balefire curious now,” Zeus gave his tail an impatient flick, poking his muzzle a little deeper into the vegetation.

Zeus began to say more, but his voice trailed off as he and Hades felt the pressure of foreign magic. It was small at first, a little buzzing near the base of their hooves. In a matter of seconds it had grown, making the alicorns’ teeth jitter and their wings tingle.

Not a moment later the cottage garden was filled with light as brilliant as the sun.

Hades immediately felt a new presence, the essence of a fully awakened alicorn crashing over his senses like a wave upon the shore.

Out of the light she emerged, rust red mane flowing like a cape as she landed with a soft, almost dainty flick of her wings. Taking a deep breath, she began to take a step towards the cottage then stopped, freezing in the motion as if she’d been held by magic. Slowly she put her hoof down.

“I know you are there,” she called out into the night, small puffs of misty breath rolling from her lips.

Grumbling to himself about why Zeus had to always be right, Hades turned and followed his brother out into the open. Turning away from the cottage, the rust-maned alicorn stepped off the garden path and into the street. She watched the brothers with curious blue eyes, her white coat seeming to shine in the moonlight. She was much smaller than either brother, making Hades suspect she was one of the more esoteric alicorns; an Intangible most likely.

“I know you...” She whispered, “where do I know you from?”

“What? You don’t remember me? How we thundered out of the twisting morass of the Far Realms, fire flashing at our step, as we dove into the Quus and drove them back from whence they came?”

“No, it can’t be, all the other Aethyir were lost. Only my sister and I survived, falling and tumbling among the newly birthed worlds.”

The goddess took a step back, uncertainty warring on her fair features. Giving a rakish smile, Zeus followed.

“Ah, but we were not lost. I lead those of us that remained to one of the worlds, the one closest to the prison we built for the Quus. A few chose to migrate to other worlds, and I always believed you to be among their number.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” she stated, halting her steps, her voice light and airy, and devoid of any malice.

“No need to be rude,” Zeus chortled.

“You misunderstand me,” the goddess shook her mane, “I am Faust, Goddess of Fate, and your very presence upon Ioka is wrong. You are obscuring the Tapestry and meddling with my domain with your every breath, each step you take sending ripples through the weave that I have to mend.”

Hades gave an exasperated sigh. A Fate Goddess; he hated dealing with goddesses of Fate. They were so untrustworthy, always speaking in half-truths, manipulating facts, and treating all the world as if it were an elaborate game of chess. It had been Lachesis, Goddess of Destiny, that had whispered in his ear that it was the Shepherd of the Night who would bring him true peace and happiness. And for a time it had been true, and maybe it would be so again.

“Well, we can’t leave yet. Not until we have located who we are trying to find. Or ruled out the possibility at least of them being here,” Zeus said, putting on his most genial guise. “Besides, I’m rather curious about the filly living in that quaint little cottage.”

Faust slowly shook her head, saying something too softly for either brother to hear. Speaking louder, she said, “I care not for your curiosity. You can not stay here. You must leave! You are more than just disruptions, your presence is a cancer upon my Domain. Every step you take an earthquake. Each breath a storm. You spread blackness and filth far greater than any of the others.”

Stepping past Zeus, Hades said in a voice cold as the winds of Tartarus, “Faust, we seek our children. We have no interest in this world beyond finding them, if they are here. Tell us, do the names Artemis, Demea, and Clouthea mean anything to you? Answer us, and we’ll leave you in peace. What do you say?”

There was hardly a pause before Faust replied.

“No,” the word contained absolute finality, “Those names mean nothing to me. They are not now, nor never will be, part of Ioka’s Weave.”

“We are wasting our time here, brother,” Hades snarled, giving Faust a long glare.

Faust began to pace before the brothers, and in an undertone whispered to herself, “Á carë ve vauya. Varya i umbar.”

She stopped her pacing, looking up to the night and the clouds that had gathered overhead, clinging to the one that had guided Zeus and Hades. The stars were blotted out, and even the moon could no longer be seen.

“Good,” Faust continued, a sad smile on her face, “they will be blind to this.”

There was little warning for what came next. The smile dissolved from her features, and in a swish of her horn she sent a jagged, ruby cone of magic towards the brothers. Suppressing a curse, Hades hopped to the side while conjuring a disk of golden energy. A small pang of pressure throbbed through his horn while the shield cracked under the torrent of arcane fire pressing against it. Consumed in the blast, the street turned to slag, the cobblestones cracking and popping like fireworks, sending shards of molten rock up in prismatic showers. At the heart of the display stood Zeus, a dome of protective magic creating an island in the middle of the tempest.

Grinding her teeth, Faust set her legs wider and increased the power behind her attack.

Nearby trees burst into fire like torches, lighting the village with ghostly, dancing, orange shadows. Throughout the village, ponies pressed their noses against their windows, watching the display with wonder and fear.

From the belly of the gathered storm above, a bolt of emerald lightning struck, cutting through Faust’s spell. The torrent parted, creating a chasm through which the lightning thrust itself. There was a cry of surprise and the ruby flames ended, leaving a street glowing in the night and trees burning upon the hillside beyond.

Patting down a few singed hair, Hades dismissed his battered shield and summoned his bident.

“So, it is to be battle then?” thundered Zeus, rolling his shoulders to loosen them.

“Careful, brother, she clearly means to maim or kill,” Hades cautioned.

“Indeed,” Zeus agreed. “I will deal with this,” he then added.

As they spoke, Faust took to the sky. A patch of fur on her right shoulder, just before her wing, carried a dark burn from the lightning strike. Ozone wafted over Hades as Zeus gave pursuit, the two spiralling up towards the clouds.

Lightning flashed; blue, green, yellow, and even black forks of brilliant energy sizzling from the clouds as the wind began to howl and icy rain mixed with hail fell upon the valley. In response long tongues of prismatic fire were flung through the sky, as if a half dozen dragons were in battle. At the center of the storm Zeus and Faust glowed like stars as they countered the other’s attacks, shields bursting to life before crumbling, and flashes denoting hasty teleportations.

From the cloud tops to the valley floor, they fought, spell after spell burning forest and village alike. Their minds so focused on the contest that neither noticed the collateral damage caused.

Abandoning showy evocations, Faust switched to dark, twisted magic. Spells black as a moonless night; seeking, lusting, hungering for life. Grapes withered on the vine, struck by a rolling haze of death, while flowers turned grey and brittle.

Hades winced a little at the waves of released magic that bathed the valley. His cracked horn ached just from the relatively minor shield he’d used. A frown played at his face as he thought about what would happen if he tried to unleash his magic as fully as those in the sky. Gingerly, he ran a hoof along the deep spirals, a sharp intake of breath indicating when he touched the jagged wound.

Dropping his hoof, Hades ignored the villagers rushing around him. He ignored the squeals of an old fire-engine and hurried shouts as the mortals worked to douse the flames, and instead contemplated the past few years. He had spent too much time mourning and not enough tending to his wounds. The wounds lacerating his heart and body had been allowed to fester and scar. And now he had been reduced so low that he had to rely on Zeus, of all ponies.

He had been aware this would happen. The journey had been utterly foolish, maimed as he was. Intruding into the realms of other alicorns, conflict had been inevitable.

“It is time to do something about this,” Hades growled, taking to the air as he dismissed his bident.

Across the valley Zeus and Faust continued to fight, one casting the other upon a mountainside. Hades had to admit that, for an intangible, Faust was doing well. But he also knew that her defeat was inevitable. He had fought Zeus long ago, and the power the God of Storms was displaying was far from the entirety of his power.

In a crack heard across the continent, the mountain’s peak vanished, consumed by a thousand tongues of lightning. Hades braced himself, a shockwave buffeted him, sending him tumbling towards the ground. Regaining his balance, he continued to climb, one eye watching as the clouds began to part, torn asunder by the mountain’s ruination. Landing atop a fragment, he wondered if the battle was over.

It was not long to find out the answer.

Grim and covered in blood, much his own, Zeus alighted next to his brother.

“Faust?”

“She will not bother us nor interfere again,” Zeus said, his voice tinged with weariness.

The God of Storms brushed past his brother, forming the cloud into a chariot. With a gruff instruction to take them west, Zeus laid down, unconcerned with appearances. Turning away and looking back towards the valley, fires raging throughout its length and a giant cloud of ash and stone still climbing into the night from the dead mountain’s corpse, Hades wondered about Faust’s own fate.

She was another victim, buried in an unmarked tomb of rough stone.

Hades closed his eyes, feeling the brisk wind in his mane and remembering another night not so dissimilar.

It had been darker, there being no stars in Tartarus, and rain had been caressing his face. The first rain to ever fall upon Tartarus, mixing with the crystalline tears dropping from his chin. Hecate, his first wife, laying limp in his hooves as her blood pooled upon the stone, and in the distance, the fleeting specks that were his youngest daughter and second wife, along with those that had come to wrest them from the Underworld. Hades ground his teeth together as he banished the memory and looked up to see the stars had stopped their dance and instead wept.

* * *

Thousands of miles to the south, Twilight sat, stunned, at the stern railing of the Bellerophon.

“Twi, what is it?” Rainbow asked, stepping up beside her friend.

“I-I... I think that my Aunt...” Twilight gulped unable to finish the thought as tears began to rim her eyes.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Rainbow said, wrapping a wing around Twilight. For a couple seconds Rainbow was surprised by how much bigger Twilight was compared to her. She’d noticed Twilight was growing, but it hadn’t struck her until then. Tossing the thoughts aside, Rainbow tried to emulate Fluttershy, hushing Twilight, trying to calm her. “Come on, just say it. It can’t be that bad, right? Faust’s a tough pony.”

“Dash, I think she’s d-dead.” Twilight sobbed.

Rainbow froze, her mouth hanging open like a barn door.

Faust was thousands of years old, and sure, she was a little odd, but Rainbow couldn’t imagine she’d died. She’d just been with them, chatting at the rail and drinking tea, before teleporting off somewhere.

“C-Come on, Twi,” Rainbow said, her own voice faltering and cracking as she tried to process the news. “How can she be dead? You Alicorns live forever, right?”

Twilight gave Rainbow a pitying look and shook her head.

“We can die, Dash, just not in the same way as you and the other girls.” Twilight sighed, sinking more into Rainbow’s embrace. Talking with Rainbow was helping keep her mind a little organised, and prevented her from dwelling on what the stars had shown her. If she didn’t think about it, maybe it wasn’t true. Grasping that flimsy straw Twilight said, “Athena, she’s an alicorn that died.”

“So... um.” Rainbow faltered. She was pretty certain that this conversation was not the right one to be having at that moment, but she was at a loss as to what else she could do or say.

Twilight was about to say more, or start to lecture, when she tensed up. Her head swept across the flat sea as she shrugged Rainbow off. Leaning over the railing, she began to open her mouth to speak when there was a flash of light and Faust tumbled onto the deck.

She was covered with a few burns and dozens of cuts, the feathers on her left wing charred at the tips, her coat on that side patchy. Her mane and tail hung in ragged tufts, the ends still curling and smoking. Both legs on her right side were bent in places that should not have been bending. The worst wound was to Faust’s horn. A great crack ran down the middle from tip to base.

Sputtering, her mane twisting itself into clumped, frazzled knots, Twilight stared at her aunt for a half moment before she screamed.

At once the ship was alive with activity.

Miss Hollow, the Officer of the Watch, suspecting the flash and scream to be caused by a cannon, ordered the ship to beat to quarters. Meanwhile a pair of sturdy sailors and one of Twilight’s own guards raced aft to the princess. The beating of the drum was accompanied by the stampeding of hooves as the other watches were roused and raced to ready the ship for action. Confusion reigned, stealing precious seconds; time Rainbow knew they couldn’t spare.

Looking once at Twilight’s distraught pleading and the sputtering of magic coming from her horn as she attempted to force her disorganised mind into performing magic, Rainbow came to single conclusion.

“I’ll be right back,” was all she said before racing below, shouting at ponies to get out of her way.

Down and down she went until she reached the medical bay. Kicking open the door, she was pleased to see Timely Crown at his station, though the doctor had large bags under his eyes, and the left side of his face seemed to be twitching. Rainbow had little time to ponder the doctors haggard appearance, however.

“Doc, we need you on deck right now!” Rainbow said, her tone and face conveying that there was no time to argue.

Without comment, Timely followed Rainbow, both winding their way back towards the surface through the chaos of the ship preparing for battle. By the time they reached the deck, a gaggle of ponies, all officers, were gathering around the princess.

“Timely, there you are,” Hardy said, ordering the dumbstruck ponies to make way for the doctor and Rainbow.

“My word, what happened here?” Timely hissed, fatigue flying before the sight that greeted him. After a quick inspection he shook his head, clicking his tongue. “This is no good, I can’t treat her here. You and you, carry her below, gently,” Timely said, pointing to a pair of stout unicorns. “Do not ruffle a single feather nor have a strand in her mane disturbed, am I understood?”

Rainbow escorted Twilight after the doctor and ponies carrying Faust. The princess’ eyes had glazed over, her sight fixed on some point on the middle horizon. She offered no protest, only muttering, “The spell won’t work. Why doesn’t it work? I’m doing it the same as before. What am I doing wrong?”

Behind Rainbow came Hardy, the captain pausing to order the crew to house their guns. A harsh muttering flowed through the lower decks, word of Faust’s injuries spreading like wildfire.

“Cursed, mate, this voyage be cursed,” said one sailor to another, both watching the great-cabin door. “First those pirates happen upon us in the middle of the sea, with us pretty as you please and ripe for their grape and shot. Then our Lady of the Night is attacked and has her stars stolen, the Seaweed sisters perish on that accursed island, and now this. I tell you what, we got a Jonah aboard, we do indeed.”

“A Jonah?”

“Jonah, she angered the Sea, so the Sea turned her luck sour. Visited any ship she stepped hoof upon with unnatural misfortune, until, in the end, the Sea grew tired and swallowed the ship whole. Sucked it straight down to the bottom.” The first sailor said in a low undertone. “Twilight help us all.”

From the great-cabin came a terrible scream that sent the sailors skittering back.

Behind the door waged a fierce battle as Timely inspected his patient with cold, clinical eyes. The cause of the scream had been the setting of a broken leg. Writhing atop the great desk, Faust hissed out a long waterfall of curses; most directed towards herself, but a few choice words added in about Timely’s lineage and threats towards his future foal.

“Madam, I’m not even married, nor liable to be so for some time, so you may take your dire predictions about the name of my foal and kindly shove them where—”

Whatever Timely would have said was lost as Faust screamed again to the setting of another bone.

“You are a most vile wretch,” Faust spat once with slow, measured breaths, taking care not to aggravate her sore ribs. “I should have named you Cruel Crown.”

“I’m certain there are many who would have agreed such a name would have been most fitting,” Timely absently muttered as he reached for his medicine chest, brought up from the medbay by his loblolly filly.

The filly, a sanguine coloured unicorn, stood beside Rainbow, her young eyes scanning and taking in everything the doctor did, jumping at the briefest hint of a command. Splints were applied, cuts were sewn, burns were covered in salves, and satchels of vials were opened. From one he pulled a large bottle, and from that bottle he measured out a dosage of some liquid.

Carrying it, slowly, in his magic, Timely found Faust glaring up at the bottle with a fury, red and pure.

“I’ll be fine, doctor,” Faust protested, a few flecks of blood staining her lips. “I am not some foal to be mollycoddled. I am Aethyir. Away with your balms and knives, I have no need of them. Time is all I require; time and the prayers of my faithful.”

Timely gave a roll of his eyes as Faust attempted to push back the bottle.

“Madam, this will ease your pain,” the doctor snapped, his limited patience already pushed to its boundaries.

Taking Faust’s muzzle in his magic, he forced the weakened goddess’ mouth open, and the tincture down her throat. Sputtering with rage, Faust nevertheless swallowed the medicine.

After a moment, the rage faded, and she seemed to wilt with pleasure.

“That is rather soothing, actually,” she said, suppressing a cough. She then waved towards the door. “You are all to leave, now. All of you except my niece.”

When nopony moved, Faust gave a grim glower, growling, “Now.”

Jumping at the command, the ponies shuffled from the cabin. Timely made to protest, but was silenced by a scowl and, muttering to himself, was the last to leave.

“Niece, come closer, there are some things I need to tell you,” Faust said, the words wheezing through gritted teeth, when they were alone.

“I don’t understand,” Twilight croaked, tears threatening to trickle from her eyes. “You’re Fate, aren’t you? Didn’t you see this? Or is this some Celestia damned contrivance, like in books and plays, where you have to sacrifice yourself for some purpose only you know?”

Faust winced and seemed to wilt on the table. Whether from the accusation lacing Twilight’s voice like venom or the obvious pain she was in, Twilight could not tell.

“Fate? No and yes. Fate isn’t something that is so easy to see, Twilight, and I am not infallible. Far more so than I once believed. None of us are. If we were, would my dear Lulu have become a Nightmare? I often catch glimpses of what may come to be, but the truth is, I am nothing more than a gardener, and the Weave my garden. I tend to it, care for it, make it whole when it is torn, and pluck the weeds should they appear. This is perhaps a good thing, to be reminded that even I can’t see all the branches and threads at once.”

Taking a moment to shift her wings, Faust gave a taught smile.

“This laudanum is wonderful stuff, Twilight. I wish we had had it millenia ago.”

“Yeah, but you have to be careful with it. Laudanum is highly addictive,” Twilight grumbled.

“Perhaps,” Faust’s eye managed to twinkle as she brushed past the subject, “and it is making me a little drowsy. So, I better say what I mean to say before I can’t say it.” Faust gave a slight giggle before snapping her eyes shut and shaking her head as if she were a wet dog drying herself. “Okay,” the goddess huffed to herself, “Okay, this stuff is more potent that I had imagined.”

Grabbing Twilight’s fetlock in her own, Faust pulled her niece closer.

“Firstly, don’t go after them.”

“Them?”

“Yes, them! My daughters and granddaughter will be able to deal with Mr. Thunderbolt and his brother.”

Faust let out a little giggle like she were a filly. After a moment, a scowl darkened Faust’s features as she fought to keep her emotions controlled, eyes shifting in and out of focus.Twilight brushed her aunt’s rusty mane back and made gentle, comforting noises like she used to for Spike when he would have a bad dream and crawl into her bed. Grasping the sound, Faust peered upwards, past Twilight, through the skylight to the still gathered stars.

“I attacked them Twilight. I did it. Me. My fault. He fought back because of me.” Faust muttered through the swirling euphoria induced by the laudanum. Her eyes then went wide, a sharp intake of breath making Twilight fear for a second that her aunt was hurt worse than she had let on. The fear was brushed aside as Faust hissed, “Don’t let them see me like this, Twi-twi. I don’t want my Lulu and Celly to know I did this to myself. A mother should appear strong for her foals... Don’t let them know... Please...”

“Of course,” Twilight automatically replied, though privately she wondered how she could avoid telling her cousins. Luna, at least, had to be aware something was happening with the stars’ antics that evening, to say nothing of the Moon herself if she had taken note of the fight relayed by Polaris.

“Promise me,” Faust insisted, pleading with look and touch. “Promise me...”

Unable to fight both the effects of the drugs and the strain of using so much magic after one and a half thousand years of inactivity Faust drifted off into a deep, encompassing, sleep. Twilight would have worried if not for the slight, almost imperceptible, breaths the elder goddess took. Mulling over Faust’s pleas, Twilight created a telekinetic field beneath her sleeping aunt and, very slowly, lifted her and carried her to a swinging cot.

“I promise,” Twilight whispered, kissing Faust upon the brow before securing her in the cot.

Wrapping the blankets over Faust, Twilight used a pair of ties to prevent her from being tossed onto the deck by any sudden lurches of the ship. When done, Twilight slowly moved to the cabin door. Beyond it she found a small crowd; the officers and passengers standing at the forefront, with the crew lingering behind or up in the shrouds, all with one ear turned towards the door.

“Well, how is she?” Timely asked, stepping forward and peering at the door over the rim of his spectacles.

“She’s resting and will be fine,” Twilight replied, heading towards the captain’s steward, and, more importantly, the tray of coffee and jam scones she carried.

Hesitating, professional considerations warring with the desires of his liege and goddess, Timely eventually gave a snappish, “Impossible mare,” shook his head, and went below to get some rest before he’d have to check in on ‘his’ patient.

“So, everything is alright, or rather, as alright as to could be hoped?”

“Yes, I guess s—”

Twilight was cut off, her voice ending in a sharp intake of breath, as an enormous pressure bloomed at the base of her horn. Staggering towards the rail, Twilight gritted her teeth. It wasn’t painful, but it felt like a mountain had decided the top of her head was as good a place as any to sit.

Shroud of the Night, spoke a voice that was both immense and gentle, like mist floating at the base of the Canterfalls. Your presence is required above.

Twilight stiffened, her heart immediately racing as she knew that the voice belonged to the moon. She’d tried on several occasions, particularly during the first few weeks of her awakening, to hold a conversation with the silvery orb that cut a wake through the night, parting Twilight’s stars like water on the prow of a ship. The moon —or Selene, as Luna informed Twilight— hadn’t responded, per se. Certainly not with words. The moon had simply given a soft smile and shimmer as she sailed amongst Twilight’s stars.

At that moment, Twilight was a little thankful that the moon hadn’t replied before.

Around tense teeth, Twilight said to Hardy, “It’s the moon,” before closing her eyes and detaching her awareness from her body, flowing up into the predawn sky.

* * *

Luna stepped lightly through the palace corridors humming a light tune. Court had concluded and she found herself with a few hours of free time. As had become something of a custom, Luna would take tea in her chambers and read a chapter from a novel before heading to her office and sorting through the mountains of waiting parchment.

A part of her mind wondered how Twilight was doing. It had been almost a week since they’d spoken more than simple greetings as their awarenesses floated high above the world and they tended to their respective charges; Twilight settling her stars while Luna guided the moon to it’s own bed beneath Ioka. Dusk and Dawn had become Luna’s favourite period of the day, those few, simple moments somehow making her always feel a little bit better, no matter how terrible the rest of her day or evening had been.

And her days had often been terrible since the failed expedition to find the third foal.

The nobles were in a quiet uproar, like a hive of bees that had been poked. Rumours circulated Canterlot about Cadence, Shining, and Tyr. Daycourt had been peppered with questions and queries. Enough so that even Celestia was beginning to wonder if she’d made the right choice to foster the filly with Cadence.

But it was done, and they would just have to bear the consequences. At worst they’d last a few years. Certainly no more than a decade or two. Then things would settle down to relative normality again.

Seeing Cadence with Tyr had been so odd for Luna, that the first time she had seen them playing in the gardens she’d been struck almost senseless. A terrible ache had resonated in her heart, and she had wanted nothing more than to leap through the open window and join them.

How she wished she had.

Luna knew her daughter, however, and Cadence would have humoured her for a few minutes before finding an excuse to return with Tyr to their quarters. So, Luna had simply watched from the windows, the sun bathing the garden in golden light, before tending to her duties and heading to court.

More and more, Luna found herself watching them. But always at a distance. Always alone.

And that made the setting and rising of the moon that much more special, for in those minutes, Luna wasn’t alone. Twilight was with her, and together they shared the night.

A light snort came from the princess as she thought it over, letting her door swing shut behind her.

A thousand years ago, before she’d Fallen and become a Nightmare, Luna would have scoffed and raged at having the stars under the care of any other pony. Somepony else being there each and every dusk and dawn would have been almost unthinkable. The voice in her head would have cursed Twilight, named her a thief before whispering that Luna could take her stars back, if only Twilight was removed.

Thankfully, that voice was gone.

Luna was as close to inner peace as she’d ever been.

Her relationship with Cadence would mend, in time. And they had plenty of time.

Relaxing on her sofa, a copy of The Thuelessa in her hooves, Luna settled herself for a few hours of peace. The reports, all of them of nothing no doubt, could wait. The arbiters had been less successful than even Celestia and Luna in tracking down the final filly. Luna was more convinced than ever that, whoever she was, the remaining filly was close to finding her mark and Domain and that it somehow involved concealment, or something similar in nature. But those were concerns for later, for the moment, Luna had a book to read.

She’d barely cracked the book open, the musty warm smell of its pages wafting over her, when a dull throbbing yell struck her just behind her horn.

Light of the night, something is wrong, the moon almost shouted.

Sighing, Luna set the book aside, closed her eyes, and cast herself into the heavens. She was greeted by a wild yammering of voices. Some were angry, a few were afraid, most were inconsolable. The stars were swarming towards the center of the sky, gathering much as they had done the day Twilight had awakened to her full potential. Luna found herself jostling for room among the crowd. Passing Alnitak, Alnilam and Mintaka, she heard the three singing a dirge, with more and more of their sisters joining.

“Selene, what is going on?” Luna asked the moon.

I do not know. Only that something terrible has befallen southern Prance, and a mountain that once stood proud has been reduced to naught but rubble and ash, blotting out my sight of the land. I was busy watching Equestria, trying to spot the sneak-thief that has eluded us these weeks.

Luna’s awareness gave a little tremor, approximating a nod, as she found Polaris sitting at the heart of the star-swarm.

“Polaris, where is Twilight? What has happened?”

The Lodestar didn’t answer, the star concentrating on the world below. Turning to the next star, Luna repeated the question, and again she was ignored. The third star responded with a harsh shushing noise, like Luna was talking at the theatre. Leaving the obstinate stars, Luna turned to the moon.

“Selene, love?” Luna called to the moon, drifting away from the lodestar.

Yes? the moon asked, her voice both annoyed and resigned.

“Could you tell Twilight to meet me and Celestia?”

Certainly... I just want to... no, I’ve lost them. Curse it all, I had the villains, and now they are gone. The moon veritably trembled in impotent rage, her normally silken light becoming tendrils of frost in the night. I will do as you ask in a moment, beloved. Just let me... Was it that mountain over there? No, that is the Matterhorn... wrong range entirely, Selene muttered to herself before letting out a long, terrible roar. Why must they all look so alike?

“Don’t be long,” Luna sighed, returning to Canterlot and leaving the moon to search for whatever she had lost, and hopefully contact Twilight.

On returning to her body, Luna made haste through the palace to her sister’s chambers. She briefly thought about waking Cadence or Iridia as well, but neither would be able to make the journey into the sky. Besides, Cadence needed her sleep, and Iridia... was Iridia. Luna shuddered thinking what her aunt would do if anything happened to Twilight.

Without a word to the guards stationed outside Celestia’s chambers, Luna threw the thick oaken doors open.

Celestia slept peacefully, her covers rising slowly. Luna stopped just before her sister’s bed, doubt taking root and wondering if she should leave Celestia alone and meet Twilight by herself.

Then again, if something had happened, and Twilight were distressed, Celestia could calm her far better than Luna. She didn’t think anything had happened to Twilight, at least, she hoped not. Surely, the moon or stars would have mentioned something if anything had happened to Twilight. Suppressing a shudder at the idea, far fetched as it was, of something harming Twilight, Luna concluded that, yes, she should wake Celestia.

A little, wicked grin took to her muzzle as an idea lept forward. Spurred on by the slight quickening of her heart, and the desire to banish the very slight tremors of worry, Luna grabbed the comforters and hurled them aside, the ring of her shoes echoing around the room as she stomped her hooves, almost shouting, “Tia! Get up!”

Poking her bedraggled head up, Celestia gave her sister a deeply unimpressed glower that promised retribution if Luna’s reason for waking her wasn’t satisfactory.

Before Celestia could ask what was happening, Luna blurted out, “Tia, something has happened. The stars have gathered again, and Selene mentioned something about a mountain being missing and that she was watching some villains, but she lost them. I’ve told her to contact Twilight and have her meet us in the sky, should she be able. What if something’s happened to Twilight?”

A shard of ice jabbed itself into Luna’s heart as the memory of Namyra raced forth.

Trembling, Luna found her words begin to tumble a bit, one after the other, as the memory took root, ensnaring her thoughts and heart like the arms of a nebulous squid. The memory clamped down, twisting through Luna until she was on the verge of tears.

“She could be hurt. Maybe something happened to the ship? A... a storm, perhaps? Or maybe a mutiny? Have we failed her like we failed before?”

A stunned silence pervaded the room as the sisters looked into each other’s eyes. Celestia then leaned forward, wrapping her wings about Luna as the younger princess trembled, releasing the sudden rush of anxiety in hiccuping sobs. When Celestia felt her sister calm down enough she released the embrace.

“Lulu, you’re jumping to conclusions. What do you know? Not fear, but know.”

Steadying her racing heart, Luna recounted for her sister what little she’d seen and heard. When she finished the brief explanation, Celestia sat, a pensive look on her face.

“Well, you did the right thing asking the moon to contact Twilight. Now, let’s go and wait for her,” Celestia said, sending herself skyward as she spoke.

Luna hesitated, terrible images and ideas flashing through her mind before she followed her sister.

“She’s not here,” Luna stated once they were above the disc, Canterlot and Equestria no more than a mesh of twinkling lights below.

“Patience, sister,” Celestia sighed, “If something was truly wrong, Twilight would have had a star contact you.”

Grumbling a little at Celestia’s logic, Luna said under her non-existent breath, “Only if she thought to do so. She’s rather headstrong and hopelessly foolish at times. It might not have occurred to her to get her stars to contact you or I, or she doesn’t want to ‘bother us’. You especially.”

Celestia gave a little humm of agreement, but didn’t comment. Instead she fixed her sight eastward. It was a long, agonizing wait until the sisters felt Twilight’s approach, and Luna released a sigh of worry she hadn’t known she’d been withholding.

* * *

Up among the stars, Twilight felt the pressure release itself, and a tingling, comforting aura surround her in its place. Still, she couldn’t help but tremble like a filly caught with her hoof in the cookie jar and not look directly at the moon when she spoke.

“Yes, Selene, can I help you?”

My Mistress and Guide wishes to speak with you about the... events... in Trotalonia, the moon replied, her gaze already shifting back to the disc below, searching for something.

“Oh,” was all Twilight said in response, an anxious laugh tittering from her essence as she pulled the nearest star closer for support. “Buck, what do I do? What do I say?”

The star, Brachium, gave a little giggle, and said, Careful there, beloved, you don’t want the others to get jealous. The star took on a golden tone as she laughed, then whispered so only Twilight would hear, I’ve seen and found that little white lies are the best, Mistress. Brachium wiggled free of Twilight’s grasp, pausing a short distance away to flick her twinkling light and shimmy, as if she were brushing something free from her mane, if she had a mane. Go on, don’t keep them waiting. Brachium laughed again as she and the other stars of Libra returned to their portion of the heavens.

Gulping, Twilight drifted towards the west, and where she was certain Luna and Celestia waited. She did not have far to go before she felt the cool touch of Luna followed by the warm, spicy fragrance of Celestia.

“Um, you wanted to speak with me?” Twilight asked, feeling very much like she was a young mare again being called into Celestia’s office.

“Twilight, what is going on?” Luna asked without preamble, flicking a short tendril of herself towards where the stars were slowly dispersing.

“Oh, uh... that? Erm, nothing?” Twilight tried to give a reassuring smile. Her ethereal form proved uncooperative as it instead wilted a little.

“Cousin,” Celestia began, the single word, and the love with which it was spoken, filling Twilight with a tingle of happiness. It would be a long time before hearing Celestia call her that would grow old. “You are a poor liar in normal conditions, and absolutely wretched when forced to show your emotions on your peytral. We know that something has attracted the attention of all your stars, and they even gathered. They’ve only done so three times before in history. Your awakening, Luna’s fall, and your sister’s... passing.”

Twilight felt like she had been slapped in the face, mostly as she had the reflex reaction to face-hoof, but lacking the ability seemed to do little to prevent the sensation.

“We are aware something monumental happened in southern Prance,” Luna added. “Selene can see the aftermath clearly even now.”

Balking a little, Twilight decided it was best to come clean. Or as close to clean as she could manage.

“I can’t tell you,” Twilight admitted, trembling a little as she spoke.

“What do you mean that you can’t tell us?” bristled Luna. “Something clearly important has—”

“Shush Luna, Twilight isn’t somepony we can order to tell us the truth.” Celestia flowed forward, wrapping her sister in the equivalent of a hug. “We won’t force you to tell us if you can’t, Twilight. But answer us this. Are our little ponies in danger?”

“I... don’t know. Auntie said it was her fault that... Eep!” Twilight clamped her mouth shut, an action that involved constricting herself into a ball the size of a peach, too late.

“‘Auntie said?’” Luna repeated the carelessly spoken words very slowly, her form shrinking and growing darker. “Mother is with you?”

“No?”

Shrugging off her sister’s embrace, Luna began to drift out of the sky.

“Lulu, where do you think you’re going?” Celestia asked, her voice that odd combination of idle curiosity and smug confidence that preceded an argument she was destined to win. That she was about to have an argument that she’d win.

“To mother.” Luna said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Luna, sister, no.” Celestia gave Luna a stern look. “She obviously doesn’t want us to know she has reappeared. Mother rarely does things without purpose, or at least the belief of purpose.” Turning to Twilight, Celestia then said, “All I want to know is if she is alright.”

Squirming, Twilight relented a little. “She’s been in a fight with somepony,” Twilight said before giving a long list of the various injuries she was aware of, Luna gasping at the mention of Faust’s cracked horn.

“Oh mother, always thinking you’re planning ahead, when you’re really just rushing from moment to moment.” Celestia trembled a little, and it was Luna’s turn to be the comforter.

“We should go to her, Tia,” Luna whispered.

“No, Lulu, no,” Celestia said forcefully, collecting herself, seeming to glow brighter as she returned her attention to Twilight. “Did she say who she fought? Or why?”

Twilight considered the question, attempting to tap her chin in thought.

“I don’t know who, only that she called him ‘Mr. Thunderbolt’, but I got the feeling the name was conjured by the laudanum more than it being his real name. I do have an idea of why, however. She had me help her bind Athena to the Weave claiming that the spirit was obscuring her sight of the future.”

Luna gave a snort, snapping, “Mother can’t see the future, not with any clarity! She’s always overestimated the Weave, and her ability to read it. The Weave shows the past clearly, yes, but the future? It’d be like pouring a bag of feathers over a cliff and predicting where they will land. The Weave, Twilight, is the binding of life and souls, and because it is souls, she can see aspects of a ponies nature, what makes them who they are, or will be. But knowing a pony will have a talent for singing, say, isn’t the same as knowing that on the fifth of June, in the year five seventy, the filly will discover her talent as she sings to her mother beneath the moon, during a light rain. But, no, mother has always confused the two.”

Beginning to pace, Luna continued her breathless rant, her essence flashing as she spoke. Twilight was stunned into silence by the swiftness of the change in Luna. Had she a mouth, it would have been hanging open.

Without pause, Luna continued, an almost invisible storm of pent-up anger in the night.

“If she could see the future clearly, what kind of monster must she be to let your sister, her niece, fall into the hooves of cultists and have her soul torn asunder. Or to then direct and play with a group of mortal ponies to defeat her grief-mad sister? Or to watch —and I know she was watching, she is always watching— as I fell, tormented by whispers at the edge of my mind. Not once, in fifteen hundred years, has she so much as let us know she is alright. Not once!”

“Mother did the best she could, Lulu,” Celestia interrupted, trying to comfort her sister again.

“We are her daughters,” Luna snarled, flowing towards Celestia, pushing her sister back. “And she has not had the courtesy or thought to let us know she is alive, or that she misses us. Does she even miss us?”

Luna began to wilt and drift back towards the disc, her anger diminished.

“I would give anything to let my daughter know how much I love her, how much I regret the things I have done. It hurts to watch from the windows, to see her with Tyr and to know that, once, that is how I should have been with her. But at least I know that she knows I am there for her, as much as she wishes me elsewhere.” Halting in her descent, Luna turned towards the silent pair above. “I try, at least. I do the small things, the little things day after day that are truly important. I try to be there for her, to let her know she can come to me, when she is ready.

“But not our mother. She is consumed with the big, grand moments. Well, those are far between and too few. Let her stew in her isolation and loneliness, if that is her choice. I care not.”

With that, Luna threw herself from the sky and back to her body below. Several, long, moments of silence followed her departure before Twilight regained her tongue.

“I thought you both wanted to see Faust again, and even wanted me to be a sister?”

“We did,” Celestia sighed. “Family, Twilight, is complicated. And when you are immortal, it is even more so. There is a lot of time to build resentment, longing, love, anger, disappointment, and pride. All without detracting from the others. You still have the perspective of a mortal, but in time, it will change. But not too much, I hope.

“However, that conversation is for another day. Tell mother... Tell her we love her, and we respect her wishes to wait for our reunion.” Celestia gave Twilight a light hug, her touch sparking and burning pleasantly. “Now I have to deal with an unknown, and possibly angry, Awakened Alicorn as well as find a filly that seemingly vanishes into thin air. Oh, and a grumpy Luna. Thank you for that, mother.”

“Wait, aren’t you mad at whoever hurt auntie?” Twilight asked as Celestia released the hug and started to flow from the sky.

“Oh, I am, and there will be a reckoning, make no mistake.” Celestia spoke slowly as she halted just below Twilight, her form boiling like pitch. “But I must think of our little ponies first and foremost. You can see for yourself the damage that can be caused when we immortals fight. I have to be the better mare, as much as I want to find whoever hurt Mother and shove my sword up his backside.”

Twilight slowly nodded and gulped, her essence suddenly cold as she watched her cousin leave the sky. Turning, Twilight went east, looking for the valley, following the guides the stars had told her about. It wasn’t hard to find, as it alone was glowing with embers among the peaks and valleys of the Pyrenees. Too far up to see the ponies, Twilight felt for the first time truly like a goddess, all seeing, but not all-seeing, the finer details lost in the greater picture.

How many ponies had been hurt? How many lives had been turned on their heads because of the actions of two alicorns? Twilight didn’t know, but she resolved to find out. Without words, Twilight asked the stars of Orion to watch over the smoldering valley. Twilight finally left the sky and returned to the world, resolving to visit the valley when she was in Prance.

Feeling her hooves on Bellerophon’s gently swaying deck, Twilight turned to find the ship silent save for the creak of the rigging and soft slap of waves rippling along her sides. All those on the deck stood, watching her, and the faint wisp of light that hovered just before her. Recognition struck Twilight, shock warring with anger and hope in her throat.

Mistress, Sirius began, her voice like the last frost of winter clinging to blades of grass. I need your help.

“Sirius?” Twilight gaped, working her mouth slowly as half a dozen different exclamations rushed to be uttered. She settled on, “What in Celestia’s name are you doing here? I closed the pathway between the heavens and earth two days ago!”

Sirius didn’t respond, not with words. She didn’t have to for Twilight to be able to know the answer. Coiling tight, the star burned bright with shame and pride for a moment, before exhaustion took her and she drifted down to the polished wood.

I had to help her. Sirius just said, her light turning away from Twilight ever so slightly. But I can’t anymore.

“Sirius, I’ve not seen or heard from you in weeks...” Twilight said, trying to make her voice soft. She wasn’t certain of how successful she was. A twitch in the corner of an eye began to take hold as Twilight laid herself down beside the star. Sirius couldn’t muster the energy to even try to shift away from Twilight. “I’ve been so pre-occupied with other things, I didn’t even think anything of you being missing. I just assumed you were still mad at me. I’m sorry.”

The star tried to shrug, but even that was too much effort.

Pride before the fall, Mistress, and we are both proud creatures, in our own ways. Sirius laughed, her voice so quiet it was almost stolen by the wind. Can you, will you, send me back to my sisters? I’m too tired to make this journey myself.

“Of course,” Twilight said, love shining from her smile. As she picked up the star, opening up the channels between her and the heavens, Twilight continued, “Your sisters have a tale or two to tell, as I’m sure you guessed.”

Sirius said nothing, the star falling asleep as Twilight’s mane engulfed her and she was embraced by the night, and her sisters. Closing the channels again, Twilight didn’t need to look to know that Sirius was where she should be.

Silently making her way through the staring ponies, Twilight decided sleep was a good idea all around. She failed to see the smiles that dotted the crew and officers. Even Hardy, trying to remain stoic at the holy starboard quarter-deck rail, had a twinkle in his eye.

“Wosh all dish?” asked one mare to her mates in a whisper carried by the wind.

“A star, mate, a star!” responded old Jill Place, giving a smile that was more gum than teeth. “And not just any ol’ star neither, but the Firestar.”

“Oh,” the first mare said, paused, then asked, “wosh i’ min?”

“Tis a sign. The Firestar knows of the Jonah and will take care of her, mark my words. Tis a sign. Good days and better nights are ahead.”

Several of the crew bobbed their heads in agreement, while Poetic Verse gave a proud grin.

“Up, up, the cannon and thunder. Firestar above, the Great Star below. Grab the mare beside you, and d’not blunder. The Great Star, we will follow!”

Twilight heard none of this exchange, and had she, she wouldn’t have had the heart to correct the crew’s assumptions.

Sending a brief notice to Polaris to tend to her sister, Twilight went to her cot. As Twilight laid her head down upon her pillow, watching Faust’s slow breaths on the other side of the cabin, the stars, one by one, faded from the night early, until the moon was alone among the the blue velvet of the sky, pink hinting in the east as her sister began to stir.

Chapter Fourteen: The Fall

Myths and Birthrights

By Tundara

Part Two: Tremors in the East

Chapter Fourteen: The Fall

Trixie was at a crossroads. Not a metaphorical one —though it could have been thought of that as well— but a real, honest, meeting and crossing of roads.

The showmare sat there in the middle of the road with tall pines shading her as she pondered which of the paths to take.

To her right, down a well travelled and paved lane, broad enough for wagons and coaches to pass each other without either going into the ditch, lay Canterlot. Along the way was also Cantershire, Canterville, Clopsdale, and Ponyville.

It was the belly of the proverbial beast. Where the greatest threat to Trixie lay. The Princesses’ home, the Royal Province. If they discovered Shyara they’d whisk the filly away and hide her behind the palace walls.

Trixie knew this fear was silly. After all, that frustrating Twilight Sparkle hadn’t been kept hidden and secluded, cloistered away from regular ponies. No, she’d been raised among unicorns. Nobility, sure, but a far cry from the sheltered life, almost prison, that Trixie feared would happen to Shyara.

A smile cracked along Trixie’s dry lips, the pre-summer wind having a cruel, hot cut to it this year, as the thought struck her. She wasn’t sure when it had happened, but the not-so-young filly had found that special place that existed in all mares’ hearts. There was nothing, Trixie knew, she wouldn’t do or risk for Shyara.

Part of her wondered if this bond was some trick, a spell cast by alicorn foals as a sort of protection. Trixie had read of beings capable of such tricks and the alicorns did have their foals raised by other herds. The idea wasn’t completely preposterous. The effects of just being near Cadence were well documented. The overwhelming love that would bloom in even the most bitter hearts. It was possible the filly was having a similar effect on Trixie.

Out of the corner of her eye, Trixie was watching as the disguised alicorn played in a small field next to the road, scampering and chasing a group of rabbits.

It didn’t matter, Trixie decided with a smile as delicate as the petals of a flower. Trixie didn’t care if the desire to protect the filly was some magic playing with her senses or not. She was just glad that Shyara was escaping her shell and returning to the inquisitive filly Trixie had found.

In the weeks following the attack in Vanhoover, Shyara had retreated into herself, reminding Trixie of her own fillyhood. She had been so quiet, withdrawn, and timid. The exact opposite of the adult Trixie, the real Trixie. Crowds had the greatest effect on Shyara. While she’d still greet the lone pony with something of her old exuberance, the filly would vanish if more than a couple other ponies were around. It had been hard for the showmare to see Shyara hide herself away in the wagon whenever they passed through a town or village. She wouldn’t even come out to help with the shows. This, Trixie found, had hurt the worst and been most troubling.

Shyara, before Vanhoover, had loved to take part, to play the role of assistant or volunteer from the crowd. Her little face would glow as she used the vanishing cabinet to disappear, or Trixie sawed her in half, or any of the other optical illusions the duo performed. Those had been a good few weeks, filled with warm smiles, laughter, and bits from delighted crowds.

Since then, Trixie had to fall back on her old routines, and heavier use of real magic, as she had done in the old days before the disaster in Ponyville. Trixie missed the shows with Shyara. Somehow, even though they involved far less spells and more trickery, they had been purer, more right. She hoped that maybe, in the next town or village, Shyara would come out of her shell and once again to the stage, where she belonged.

The filly had a natural talent with showmareship. Dazzling the crowd while keeping secrets firmly hidden up her sleeves, or under her hat. Trixie would have believed that her daughter was destined for a show-magic Mark, if not for the whole Alicorn thing. A Goddess of Stage Shows would be a rather sad domain to possess when everypony else had such grand themes as the Sun, Moon, Stars, Love, Fate, or Life.

Turning her attention back to the road and, more importantly, the fork, Trixie looked to the left.

Down that path lay the Crystal City, and the various, and many, towns before the city-state. With summer fast approaching, the Crystal Fair would be on the horizon. Trixie’s traveling magic and illusion show would be perfect for the fair.

If it weren’t for Princess Cadence.

Not only would she be in the city for the annual meeting of it’s House of Dames, but she opened the fair as the host, visiting each act. Any other time, Trixie would have been dancing on the tips of her hooves at a chance to meet the Princess. Having her stop to watch a show was a great honour and a sign of having ‘made it’ as a performer. But Trixie had to think of Shyara.

Trixie turned to look at the gambolling filly, and sighed.

They could always turn around and head the way they came. Or take the fourth option and continue ahead —into the heavily populated eastern regions— and where the Celestial Arbiters were thickest.

Assuming she wanted to follow any of the roads at all. She could always just move her wagon to the side and set it up as home. It was a nice area. Woods to the south, pleasant, rolling green hills, and the very tips of a few mountains could be discerned in the north. There was a town, called Passiondale, a few hours travel back the way Trixie had come where she could shop. She certainly had the bits to settle down.

The mere thought, however, left her legs aching and her horn itchy.

So, Trixie considered the crossroads for the hundredth time.

“Trixie, I’m hungry,” Shyara said right behind the showmare, making her jump with a shriek.

“Shy,” Trixie huffed, clutching at her chest, “how many times must Trixie tell you not to do that?”

Putting on an air of false sincerity, Shyara muttered, “I’m sorry.” Barely pausing, she then added, “but we haven’t had anything to eat since the sun came up.”

“You could graze,” Trixie suggested, even as she stood to unhitch herself from the wagon.

“Graze? You mean, eat grass... raw? Ew!” The filly punctuated her words with her tongue hanging from her mouth as she made gagging noises.

Giving off a low, huffy laugh, Trixie opened the wagon’s door and poked her head into the small food locker. After a few minutes rooting around, calling out ideas to no response, Trixie stuck her head back out the door, an irritated barb ready. She found that Shyara had vanished. A brow twitching, the barb grew into a snarl as Trixie jumped from the wagon, turned, and found herself almost nose to nose with another mare.

“Oh!” Trixie and the mare cried out at the same time, both back-peddling.

“I’m sorry,” the mare hastily blurted out, raising a dark blue hoof to adjust a white toque with a golden sun emblazoned on the rim. Trixie’s eyes fixated on the toque, ignoring everything else about the mare as her heart caught in her throat.

“N-no, Trixie apologizes,” the showmare responded, trying to put on a calm smile.

From the narrowing of the other mare’s summer-blue eyes and the ever so slight tug at the corner of her mouth, Trixie was confident she was being more transparent than a pane of glass.

“Is there something T-Trixie, ahem, that I can do for you, Arbiter?” Trixie’s forced smile began to crack along with her voice as she fought the urge to look for Shyara.

‘An arbiter, why was there an arbiter on this little back-road?’ The question reverberated through Trixie like the clang of bells in a church. The arbiters always took the larger roads. Maybe this one was alone. So long as the arbiter didn’t notice Shyara, Trixie had a small measure of confidence that she’d be able to wiggle through the encounter.

“Hey!” Shyara’s voice cut through the tension like the prow of a ship, making Trixie’s already strained expression plummet as the colour drain from her face.

Trixie noticed the arbiter’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly, darting between Trixie and Shyara, once, twice, before settling on the filly. Crossing her hooves that Shyara was wearing her enchanted vest, Trixie tried to force her heart to start beating again, it having utterly seized at her daughter’s voice. Still wearing the broken smile, Trixie looked down, and saw that yes, Shyara was wearing her vest. The fillies wings hidden by the layers of illusion magic.

For a moment Trixie thought they might just get away safely.

“I’m Shy Spell!” Shyara chirped, holding up a small hoof expectantly.

“That’s a lovely name,” the arbiter responded, giving a sly smile as she took the fillies hoof and gave it a shake. “It’s a shame it isn’t your real one.”

Both Trixie and Shyara gave a dumbfounded look, and then Trixie’s hoof snapped up to her face.

Trixie’s eyes locked on the embroidered toque sitting atop the arbiter’s brow. The faint shine of the golden thread belied its powerful enchantment. Lies rang hollow in an arbiter’s ears and their eyes...

“And a lovely pair of wings,” the arbiter added, “they go well with your horn.”

Shyara’s expectant excitement vanished like the invisible monitor lizards of southern Camelon. Casting a glance over her shoulder she muttered, “Oh, bother.”

“Ma’am, I think we need to have a conversation.” The arbiter’s eyes made it clear this was neither a request nor a suggestion.

Heart finally deciding that it should be working, Trixie felt her broken expression shift into one of cold neutrality. Through her mind flashed over a dozen spells to incapacitate. Trixie felt fairly confident she’d be able to deal with a single arbiter, and an Earth Pony one at that. Their official toques may let them see lies and break illusions, but that was all they did. Useful for holding court and dispensing justice, but not for a fight.

Her thin hope deflated when a large unicorn stallion wearing the white with gold trim armour of the Judicial Guards stormed around the corner of her wagon. It was like looking up at a stone wall, a stone wall of muscle and cold, black eyes.

“Arbiter Precedence, we be late as is for...”

His voice trailed off as he looked from Arbiter Precedence, to Trixie, to Shyara, and then back to Trixie. At once his entire demeanour shifted subtly, shoulders set, horn tilted forward with a slight glow of readied magic tinting the air about it a gentle blue-green, and hooves spread.

Still, Trixie, felt confident she could protect Shyara from the arbiter and judicator.

“Arbiter Precedence, what is the delay?” asked a third voice, hidden by the wagon.

Poking her head around the corner, Trixie saw a total of five Arbiters, with their accompanying Judicators arrayed around them, standing just down the road to the Crystal City.

“It is nothing of immediate concern, Arbiter Swift Annulment, however, I would prefer to see it taken care of sooner rather than later.” Precedence gave her fellow arbiters a slight grimace as if she was being put-out. “I shall have it sorted shortly and there is no reason for the rest of you to be delayed. We’ll catch up in Bridlefalls.”

Arbiter Swift Annulment gave a little shrug, muttered something under his breath, and then began to lead the troop down the road without another word.

“Now then,” Precedence said, her face almost glowing. “How about some tea and we will discuss the matter of the filly, yes?”

A million questions thundering through her head, Trixie gave a numb nod. Turning to fetch her tea and kettle, Trixie was stopped by a hoof on her withers. Looking back she saw, much to her further amazement, the judicator pulling out tiny pieces of furniture from his saddlebags. With a simple little swish of his horn, the toy sized object grew into a small table and pair of benches.

“We’ll need a gold scroll as well, Temperance,” Precedence said sweetly as a kettle was produced along with a cabinet of tea.

“Wow! Neat!” Shyara explained, jumping forward to examine the objects. “A Shrinking Spell twined with a Mass Reduction Spell, right?” the filly asked as she poked and prodded one of the benches.

“Indeed,” Temperance chuckled while pouring a skin of water that had also been shrunken into the kettle. “Makes carrying all the accoutrements of the office a wee bit easy, lassy.”

While the tea came to a boil, Precedence and Trixie sat down. Cheeks flushing, Trixie couldn’t stop her back hooves from jittering and she found it almost impossible to look directly at the other mare. She felt like she was even smaller than Shyara and back in her herds old home again. Pushing the feelings down with a slow, deep breath, Trixie faced her opponent.

As Trixie tried to settle her nerves, Precedence laid the scroll on the table, set an open inkwell beside it, and a quill in the ink. After a moment, the quill floated into the air and hovered beside the scroll, giving of the faint whispers of magic.

“Alright, let’s get this show started.” Precedence licked her lips, then in a more officious tone said, “Arbiter Precedence presiding at the crossroads of Old Wert Road and Golden Bricks Highway. In attendance as Judicator is Temperance Dust.” Returning to her normal voice, she continued, “Now, why don’t we start this with the basics. What are your real names. And please, don’t try to lie again, because,” Precedence pointed to her toque.

As she spoke, the quill leapt forward, darting across the scroll copying everything the arbiter said. It even added after ‘because’, ‘Arbiter Precedence pointed to her toque of office’.

Biting her tongue, Trixie again thought of attacking the arbiter.

It would have been the worst idea she ever had. Worse than challenging the protege of the Goddess of the Sun to a magic duel. Worse than being a blustering blow-hard that drove away paying clients. Worse than spitting in Celestia’s face. Trixie hadn’t done the last one, though she’d heard of a pony who had. What had become of him wasn’t mentioned in the stories.

“Trixie Lulamoon.”

The quill darted over the page again.

“And?”

When no response was forthcoming, Precedence turned to Shyara, the filly with her nose peeking into the judicators saddlebags. Clearing her throat to get Shyara’s attention, Precedence repeated the question.

“Um,” Shyara’s eyes darted from Trixie to her own hooves. She pinched her brows together, shuffling her hooves a few times. Looking up, she asked, “Are you a nice pony?”

Precedence’s features were set and stoney, fully enveloped in her role. Temperance, however, just laughed.

“She’s alright,” the Judicator said, winking out of the corner of his eye as he lifted the tea from the fire.

The barest tremor of a twitch at the corner of an eye, Precedence said, “I’m an Arbiter of Celestia. It means I need to be fair and follow the law.” The stone cracked a little as she added, “But I do try to be a good pony and arbitrate by example.”

“You did send those other ponies away when you didn’t need to,” Shyara hummed, looking along the road the other arbiters had travelled. Turning back to Precedence, she let her eyes drift to the sun symbol on the toque. “She’s not mad at me, is she?”

Precedence lifted an ear. “Who?”

“Celestia.” Shyara began to shrink down, her excitement over the new spells gone. “In Vanhoover, I prayed to all the goddesses I could think of, and she was the only one who answered. But she was all fire and anger. She’s not mad at me, is she? For asking the other goddesses for help first?”

It was Temperance who responded, a deep laugh echoing from the stallion as he poured three cups of tea. Trixie found the laugh somewhat infectious. Not enough to set her giggling like some schoolfilly, but enough to ease a portion of the tension in her back.

“The Lady of the Sun don’t get mad at fillies,” he said, setting the teapot aside and taking a position immediately to Precedence’s right.

“I know a little of the Vanhoover incident,” Precedence mused. “As I recall a shadowfiend had snuck into the park and attacked a group of foals. The princess arrived and destroyed the fiend before anypony could be harmed. She was mad at the fiend for trying to hurt her little ponies.”

Trixie could tell that Precedence was giving an abridged version of her knowledge of the event. The arbiters had to all have been fully briefed on the occurrence and Shyara’s presence, even if they didn’t know her name.

“So... She isn’t mad at me?” Shyara seemed to brighten at the prospect, her silver coat almost beginning to shine.

“There is no reason to believe she is,” Precedence gave a little nod while Temperance smiled.

“Okay, I guess it would be alright for you to know my real name, since your in service to a nice goddess.” Squaring her shoulders and puffing out her little chest, nose thrust into the air, she then proclaimed, “I am Shyara, daughter of the Stars and Lies!”

Whatever reaction she was expecting, most likely instant fawning for her greatness, didn’t happen. Precedence just gave her tongue a soft click as the enchanted quill danced out the filly’s name while Temperance simply lifted a brow.

“I was unaware Princess Twilight had a foal. Thought she was a bit... young for that,” the Judicator chuckled.

Wings flaring, Shyara jumped up, hooves on the table as she leaned towards Temperance and yelled, “that thief is not my mother! My mother is Astraea, the true goddess of the Stars! And when she returns she’ll show that thief-pretender whose stars they are!”

Temperance looked at the small alicorn for a few seconds before tossing his head back and giving a truly roaring chorus of laughter.

“Judicator Temperance, control yourself. That is quite enough,” Precedence snapped, shooting her companion a look that could chill a Frost Wolf.

Muttering an apology, he turned into a statue, face growing impassive like he was one of the palace guards.

Satisfied by the judicator’s compliance, Precedence continued.

“I can see you are speaking the truth,” she said, tapping her hat. “I just have a few more questions for you, Shyara. Just general information. If you don’t want to answer any of them, you don’t have to, okay?”

Hesitating, Shyara gave her consent, shifting a little closer to Trixie as she did.

For the next several minutes Arbiter Precedence asked a series of relatively simple questions. Where was Shyara born? How old was she? Relatives? Was there a relative who could take care of her? Did Shyara feel safe with Trixie? Other than the incident in Vanhoover, had there been any troubles?

Some of the questions made Trixie bristly, but, biting her tongue, she kept quiet. Something told her that the arbiter was trying to decide how to deal with the situation and if Trixie was anything less than composed it would tip away from her favour.

Shyara held less reservations. She dithered about her age, stating ‘older than you’ as her response at first before admitting she was eighty five years old. Precedence barely batted an eye at the response, she’d seem to even anticipate it. When the questions about Shyara’s safety were asked both Trixie and Shyara bristled.

“Trixie’ll have you know Trixie has been an excellent guardian!” The showmare snapped, her patience and silence both at an end. “The Great and Bold Trixie saved her daughter from—”

A raised hoof and a stern glare halted Trixie, tripping her tongue and force her back into silence.

“Miss Trixie, we will have time to talk in a moment.” Precedence’s tone pieced Trixie like an arrow. Once satisfied that Trixie wouldn’t speak out of turn again, Precedence repeated her question.

“I feel perfectly safe with Trixie.” Shyara nodded firmly, her young eyes blazing. “She’s a heroine, with the favour of a Goddess. I couldn’t be safer.”

Accepting the reply, Precedence gave a slight nod, though nothing in her face gave away her own thoughts.

Turning to Trixie she stated, “I’m concerned Miss Lulamoon. Deeply concerned.” Steepling her hooves, Precedence continued, chin tilted at an angle. “You don’t seem like the most suitable guardian for a filly.”

Trixie began to puff up, slowly working her jaw to keep from snarling at the arbiter.

“That said, she seems to trust you and genuinely care for you, and you her. However, that is immaterial. You are not a relative, nor her legal-guardian. It’d be so much simpler if you were,” Precedence sighed, giving her head a shake. “The Princess anticipated this situation, and her directions in this case are clear.”

“What are you going to do?” Trixie asked, trying hard to suppress the quaver in her voice.

A small bead of sweat pricked upon her brow as she waited for the arbiter’s response. Precedence clicked her tongue a few times, muttered to herself, and then produced two scrolls bound together in crimson and gold tape.

“I am not going to do anything more than this; You are required to present yourself to the Daycourt of Canterlot within the next seven dusks. If you have not done so by that time, a warrant will be issued for your arrest under the charge of foalnapping a member of the Royal herd, as dictated by Princess Celestia.”

Trixie, for the second time, felt the blood leave her face.

“A w-week? To Canterlot? From here?!” she sputtered.

“Yes. I’d recommend taking the train from Cantershire.” Precedence gave a little nod.

Precedence broke the tape binding the scrolls, opening them and jotting down a few words. Giving one to Trixie and setting the other aside. Looking at the scroll, Trixie saw it bore her name as well as the arbiters. Packing away the quill and ink, Precedence bound the transcript of their meeting together.

“B-but, what about Trixie’s wagon? It’s all Trixie owns...”

Trixie’s voice trailed off as her mind finally shut down, the metaphorical little workers between her ears throwing their non-existent hooves in the air as they ran about like chickens whose coop was on fire. Her eyes glazed over, her mouth hung open, and her ears drooped.

Barely looking up from the work of tying the scrolls together without magic, Precedence said, “Show the town council your Writ of Summons and they’ll have to look after your possessions while you are in Canterlot.” Hoofing the scrolls to Temperance, she said to the Judicator, “Direct to Her Majesty, Tempy.”

Snapping back to reality just in time to see the scrolls dooming her vanish in a puff of blue-green smoke, Trixie’s heart decided to make up for the beats it had missed earlier, racing away so fast Trixie thought everypony had to hear it. Pressing a hoof to her chest and taking fast, steadying breaths, Trixie gulped down the lukewarm tea as Temperance began to shrink and pack everything up.

Once done, Precedence gave Trixie a warm smile, said, “Thank you for your time, Miss Lulamoon, and may all your days be pleasant and your nights secure.”

The Arbiter and Judicator then set off without another word, leaving a thunderstruck Trixie and perplexed Shyara.

After a few moments, Shyara turned to Trixie and said with an innocent smile, “I think that went well.”

* * *

Afternoon tea: a tradition older than Equestria, and one Celestia thoroughly enjoyed. It was her get-away time from the bickering and squabbling of the Daycourt. Sure, there had been good moments. Two couples had approached her today asking for blessings of health and vitality for their unborn foal.

As always, Celestia didn’t have the heart to tell them such blessings were ineffective. She’d gone through the motions, giving a little smile when she felt the small budding life inside the mares. It made the couples feel better, and that was reward enough.

Still, those encounters could do little to abate the rest of Celestia’s day. She was trying very hard not to think about her mother and go flying off to check up on her. In practical terms, Celestia had spent a far, far, far greater portion of her life without her mother than with her. She’d only been a little over a hundred years old when Faust had vanished. But, despite the centuries of separation, Faust was still her mother.

To placate herself, Celestia had told the sun to watch over the Bellerophon. Sol had protested at first, she’d been watching a herd in Manehatten the past decade, treating their lives and antics like a play, or opera. They certainly lead interesting lives, full of intrigue, double-crossing, and many other sordid affairs. Sol had actually whined when Celestia flat out told her that her obsession with the Oranges of Orange Lane was unhealthy.

The sun whining... it was preposterous!

At least it had proved to be a short distraction. State affairs, however, were not so easily forestalled.

One such state affair sat across from Celestia.

He was a light beige earth pony, his greasy black mane done up in tight curls. The scroll and quill mark on his flank, fairly generic among the civil service or academic world, displayed his talent for navigating bureaucracy.

“Princess, if I may be so bold, but is your sister not going to join us?” the stallion asked in a thick, provincial prench accent.

If Celestia had to guess based on the few words he had said, he’d been born in the area of Bittany, probably near the coast, was educated in a boarding school somewhere near Bordeaux, and had far more ambition than sense.

Keeping her face impassive, Celestia placed a little honey into her tea.

“My sister is a creature of the night,” Celestia said as she lifted her tea to her lips. “She goes to bed as most of us are just getting out of ours. As such, she tends to keep what most consider odd hours. Take Afternoon Tea, for instance. Did you know it began because of my sister? She’d awake in the early afternoon and have what was to her breakfast. Other’s began to join her, and within a decade or two, afternoon tea had become a staple of Equestrian society. True story.”

“That seems unlikely, Princess, since tea didn’t become a staple until three hundred years after your sister’s banishment.” The stallion snorted, dipping a dunking biscuit into his tea.

There was a few minutes of silence as both sat, each waiting for the other to speak again.

“I hope that the change is to your liking, Princess Celestia,” the stallion gave a demure, coy grin. “I know you had a fondness for my predecessor. I had hoped to inform her of the change face to face. It came as a shock, naturally, when I arrived and found Ambassador Fleur off with the newly crowned Princess Twilight.”

“Fleur’s departure was rather sudden,” Celestia conceded with a tilt of her head. “No pony expected her to be swept up in the growing events.”

“Yes, yes, so her attache informed me yesterday.” There was a pause, and then the new ambassador said, “You’ll have to forgive me, your majesty, but why is Prance’s previous ambassador off with the new Princess? The First Consul, in particular, will be very curious. You were, of course, intending to inform them of the impending visit, and the purpose behind it, before the princess and her entourage crossed the borders. It is all very troubling.”

“As for that, Mr. Ferveur, a packet was sent out the same time Princess Twilight set sail carrying news of her impending visit to Prance and the other nations of the Old Kingdoms.”

“Oh,” Ferveur muttered, his eyes growing darker. “So, it is true that she is taking Prance’s ambassador to Equestria to the other nations. The senate will be extremely displeased with this.”

“They shouldn’t,” Celestia responded. “Ambassador Fleur is with my cousin, serving as guide and building the friendship between Prance and Equestria.”

Ferveur clicked his tongue, scrutinizing the calm mask Celestia wore looking for any crack in her impassive armour.

“That doesn’t answer my question. You must have dozens or hundreds of Equestrian citizens that could serve as a guide and aide de campe. Given that Princess Twilight will be visiting Zebrica,” Ferveur gave a dismissive sniff, “Wouldn’t the zebrican doctor living in the Everfree Forest have been the logical first choice of guide? The savages of the central continent are as unknown to Fleur as they are to Princess Twilight.”

Celestia pursed her lips at the venom and undisguised bigotry of the new ambassador.

“Zecora is a good friend. However, she is an exile from her homeland and, were she to return, would be executed. Which I am certain you are aware of.” Celestia sipped her tea, relishing the slightly flustered pinch in Ferveur’s cheek.

“So, you are just going to dance around the real reason the highest ranking citizen of Prance in Equestria went off galavanting across the old world and not minding her duty?”

Setting her tea down with deliberate precision, Celestia took a slow, calming breath before giving the new ambassador a look most only saw moments before their demise.

“We seem to be getting off on the wrong hoof, Mr. Ferveur. There are a few things you would have learned had events played out differently. The first would be—”

In a swish of golden magic, the appearance of a scroll interrupted Celestia. She neither frowned nor smiled at the scrolls appearance, an odd occurrence since Twilight stopped sending Friendship reports. A small part of Celestia wondered and hoped if it was Twilight who had sent the scroll. The red ribbons terminated that hope.

“Excuse me, Ambassador, this is important,” Celestia murmured as she broke the seal and scanned its contents. The new ambassador watched as her face went from the barest hint of concern, to joy, back to concern, only to settle on mildly amused. “Very good,” Celestia hummed, setting the scroll aside. “Now, where were we.”

“You were about to give me a sound drubbing for my impertinence, Princess,” Ferveur chuckled.

“Oh, yes,” Celestia gave a reserved nod. “Well, how about a story, Mr. Ferveur. It will illustrate the point.

“A few hundred years ago I was approached by a wealthy noble. A village on lands he owned had discovered a great deal of copper ore. Enough to make any pony incredibly wealthy. The only problem was the hill was in crown lands. He approached me, naturally, asking for the rights to mine the hill. He gave a great, highly detailed speech where he laid out how it would bring great prosperity to the region. The village would double, then triple in size as miners and ponies servicing the miners arrived; bakers, tailors, and the like. By the nobles estimation the mine would bring ten of thousands of bits into the community. Naturally, a fair amount would end up in the noble’s coffers, but a substantial amount would find its way into other ponies homes. There was enough copper in the hill for the mine to last decades. A great boon to the region.

“I listened to his arguments. Thanked him for making the journey. And rejected his proposal.”

Ferveur lifted a brow. “Your majesty, why would you reject the proposal?”

“Because, through the mine would supply the region for twenty or more years, it would poison the land for three hundred or more. Had I said yes, the region near Detrot would be uninhabitable today. The noble believed he was thinking ahead, and from his perspective he had. My perspective is a bit longer.

“Your present republic, Mr. Ferveur, is a little over two hundred and forty years old. I have seen over one and a half thousand years. I have danced with Prench Emperors. I was courted by a Prime Minister. And Kings have tried to invade Equestria. My herd and I are a center of consistency in an ever changing world, Mr. Ferveur. Now, why don’t—”

For the second time in a half-hour Celestia was interrupted. This time it came in the form of an off-white filly shouting out the Princess’ name.

“Auntie Tia! Auntie Tia!” Tyr called, the filly racing across the garden; her foster mother trailing close behind with a bemused smirk on her face. Skidding to a halt just short of crashing into the table, Tyr gave Celestia the biggest grin she could muster. “I felt it today! I felt it!” she squealed, dancing on the tips of her hooves before letting out a long, joyous laugh.

“You felt what, dear?” Celestia asked, her smile true for the first time that day, carried aloft by the infectious happiness rolling off the filly.

“It! It!” Tyr squeaked, punctuating each word with a little hop.

“Oh, ‘It’, I see,” Celestia gave a sage nod. “But, what is ‘It’, my little pony?”

Tyr stopped mid-bounce, and put a hoof to her chin in deep thought.

“I don’t know!” she finally exclaimed, “but it was there. It was all warm, and soft, and it was like being wrapped in a blanket, and it was there! Waiting for me, and when I find It, It will give me back my wings and lustre! I just know it!”

“Like before?” Celestia pressed.

“No, stronger than ever.” Tyr’s grin could have lit the darkest night. “It was still ephemeral, though. But when I figure out what it actually is and represents I just know that I’ll get my Domain.” Tyr then stopped and pointed at the two scrolls sitting beside Celestia’s tea. “Hey, what are those?”

Bristling a little at the fillies demand, Ambassador Ferveur almost answered for Celestia. Wisely, he snapped his mouth shut at the last moment and dabbed a dunking biscuit into his tea. Celestia, picking up the scroll bound in gold and crimson tape in her magic, passed it to Tyr.

Opening the scroll, Tyr’s not-young eyes scanned the contents quickly.

“It’s a Writ of Summons,” she said after a few moments. “Neat! Wait...” she peered and looked closer at the finely printed words as Celestia watched closely and Cadence arrived at the table. The Goddess of Love gave her aunt a raised brow in question, but didn’t interfere. “It says here that failure to comply will result in a warrant of arrest being issued for... Why would you arrest this Trixie Lulamoon, Auntie Tia?”

Waving a dismissive hoof, Celestia took the scroll back and said, “It’s complicated, but it’s a small fib to make the pony want to come and not run off and hide. She’s completely innocent of the charges, or potential charges.”

Tyr’s jaw dropped for all of a second before she snapped it shut and glared up at Celestia.

“But, that’s wrong!” The filly threw up her hooves. “The Law isn’t something... isn’t something... that...”

Her voice trailing away, Tyr looked off into the middle distance. Setting the scroll aside, Celestia only just managed to hide a smile as Tyr’s coat began to shimmer almost imperceptibly. More telling, the black stitches upon Tyr’s withers where her wings had been, stitches only Celestia, Luna, and Cadence could easily see, took on a golden shine for a half-heartbeat.

Then the shimmer left Tyr’s coat, the stitches returned to their coal black colour, and Tyr shook her head.

“I felt it again!” she exclaimed, dancing on the spot and hugging herself.

With a cackling laugh, Tyr turned and ran off, shouting at the top of her lungs, “Granny Luna! Granny Luna! I felt it today! Twice! Ha-ha!”

As the filly vanished a slightly exasperated Cadence gave her head a shake.

“Was I so oblivious?” she asked rhetorically. Celestia, of course, had no answer, she just smiled her glowing smile.

“I’m sorry, Auntie, she’s been like that since Shiny picked her up from school.” Cadence blew a lock of mane out of her eyes. “Next she’ll probably seek out Great Aunt Iridia, or start shouting from the battlements.”

Giving a little laugh, Celestia said, “It may be best if you caught up with her, then. I’m sure that ‘Granny’ Luna would appreciate the rescue.”

Hesitating, Cadence gave a sly snicker, “Hmmm, well, I suppose so, but I’m not young anymore. Hard for me to keep up with foals, in my old age. Mother may have to fend for herself for several minutes as I catch up.”

* * *

The ocean was calm.

No, it was beyond calm.

There were mirrors less perfect and smooth. Not a breath of wind touched the surface. The rigging hung limp, every stitch of canvas the masts could bear held up in the faint hope that a breeze would emerge and carry the ship even a few yards. According to Hardy’s sightings the previous midnight and noon, they hadn’t moved since the wind died.

Oddly, however, the ship was in mostly good spirits.

The crew still scratched the backstays hoping to conjure a breeze, but it was more out of habit than any real desire. Given precious time for leisure, the crew set about doing the washing, playing cards or jacks, sewing shore going rigs, telling stories, and in general just relaxing. In this they had the greatest of boons in Pinkie.

The Element of Laughter was in prime form as she moved about the ship, poking her head into the gunroom to swap rhymes with Poetic Verse or standing by the ships rail with Timely Crown as he pointed out the various seabirds that would flit around the ship and land on the spars for a rest. In the evening, when the captain and doctor sat in the great cabin playing their fiddle and cello, filling the ship with their intemperate, moderate playing, she would join in with a lilting flute. During the day she bounced about the ship, leaving smiles in her wake.

The same could not be said for Rainbow.

Once again more green than blue, she laid against the mizzen mast, an oft used bucket by her side while she stared up at the empty azure expanse above. If not for the occasional low moan that would echo across the deck, usually accompanied by the sound of retching shortly afterwards, everypony would have worried the pegasus had perished.

A few metres from where Rainbow lay, sat Faust.

The goddess showed more bandage than fur or feather, a few tufts of her mane sticking out from among the off-white wraps. She was propped up by several cushions and had a blanket resting over her flanks hiding the casts on her legs. Eyes glazed over in a laudanum induced haze, she stared at nothing. Every now and then she’d flick an ear, but otherwise she was as a statue. Twilight sat by her aunt, reading or tending to Faust if she so much as made a noise.

When Faust had first been brought out onto the deck two days after the battle, helped along by Twilight, all action on the deck had stopped. The midshipmares lowered their sextants, a poem faltered half formed on Poetic Verse’s tongue, and the Bellerophon shied half a point off the faltering wind until the Master called out, “Mind the helm, there, Celestia damn you!” in a thunderous voice. “You there, back to your post! Belaying Pin, take that mare’s name! Let their majesties have some peace, you bunch of half-witted lubbers!”

Ignoring the ship’s Master, and his blasphemous use of Celestia’s name, Twilight helped Faust to the poop. “Mind the stairs,” “Be careful of the lines,” “Watch out for the roll,” Twilight said, taking to a nervous chewing of her lower lip as she supported Faust’s back half with her magic.

Once Faust was situated, none of the crew had bothered the Queen or Princess. Two Royal Guards kept them at bay, sending frightful glares at any who approached.

It had been that night the wind completely faltered, not to be seen since.

Sitting again the next day, with that mirror-like ocean all around them as far as the eye could see, the princess and her aunt took in the warmth of the sun. Open before Twilight was a book on the workings of the ship; how to sail her, what ropes, lines, tackles, braces, pins, and spars were for what duty, and so on.

Crewmares and officers were constantly finding reasons to go to the stern. Checking the rigging, making sure the backstays were taught, looking for the ship’s cat, every excuse imaginable was dredged up until Hardy took to the deck and suddenly all the gawkers vanished.

On their second day becalmed, as the captain was on his one hundredth turn by the starboard rail, a short, powerfully built crewmare approached Faust. Twilight had noted her watching Faust for some time, sneaking small glances while coiling lines or holystoning the deck. True, most every pony aboard was similar, but the rest had all stopped the moment the master or captain was near. Not her, she continued to make furtive glances, and a few times started to take a step aft, hesitated, then returned to her duties. With a bit more courage, and a few prodding words from her mates, the mare shuffled towards Faust, stopping just short of the guards.

Looking over, Faust gave a slight frown.

“Yes?”

“I was wondering...” the crewmare scuffed her hooves nervously, then blurted out, “my sister, Morning Dew, she is with foal, and... I was hoping, could you tell me her name? The foals, I mean.”

Faust looked surprised by the request, head arching back a little. For a half moment the frown deepened, then it broke into a tuat grin. Waving the crewmare closer, Faust said, “Well, come here, let me have a look at you.”

Hesitating again, the crewmare looked back to her mates, and saw them all giving her a ‘go on’ gesture. Licking her lips, she stepped past the stone faced guards, shying away a little at the calculating turn to their eyes. Standing before Faust, she looked so small.

With her uninjured forehoof, Faust turned the crewmare’s face this way and that, peering into her eyes while she clicked her tongue. Twilight knew Faust was putting on a show and probably had known the crewmare’s relatives and friends from the simplest of glances.

“I see... I see...” Faust stage-whispered, her voice ringing clear across the suddenly still deck. “Your sister means a lot to you, Miss Drops. You were always the strong one, there to look after her. She had Feather Flu young, and it made her prone to sullen silence. Her wings hurt her and were weak, making her an easy target for bullies. A pegasus unable to fly is a poor, dear thing.” Faust clicked her tongue and gave a slow, sad, theatrical shake of her head. “But she had her big sister, a strong, hearty Earth pony; and eventually she had her herd. A stallion and two herd-wives, all whom love and protect her fiercely. A fine family indeed. She is with foal for the first time and worries. She worries that they will be weak like her.”

“They?” Miss Drops asked, eyes widening.

“They,” Faust confirmed, “she is with twins. Identical twins. Extremely rare, indeed.”

Fuast’s eyes then went white, a slight glow flowing over the deck and crewmare. Only Twilight noticed more; feeling like she’d just fallen overboard. She could see and feel Faust expand and contract at the same time. There was something more, something that was just below the surface that emerged around Faust. It was like seeing a presence lurking in the corner of her eye, and when Twilight tried to examine it, it vanished.

“I see them. The elder will be Dew Point, the younger Dew Line.”

The light left Faust’s eyes as she returned to the ship. Whatever it was that Faust had caused vanished, or returned to its natural state. Twilight wondered if it was the Weave she had felt and decided to ask Faust later.

“Dew Point and Dew Line, wow,” Miss Drops said, a goofy grin glowing bright. “Can you tell me what their special talents will be?”

All smiles and humour left Faust in a flash.

“No.”

Miss Drops scooted back, everypony observing the exchange as startled as her at the change in Faust.

“B-but, according to the Book of Names you can see a ponies Fate and their Marks.”

Sighing, Faust waved Miss Drops to come closer. “Miss Drops, tell me, what does your Mark mean?”

Blinking a couple times in confusion, Miss Drops answered in a hesitant voice, “Knots, ma’am. I’m good with knots and ropes. Can splice ‘em, tie ‘em, and am one of the best with the rigging, ma’am. Mama thought at first it was some musical Mark and I was going to be some hoity toity performer,” a couple of Miss Drops mates snickered, “but I set ‘em right.”

“Mmm Hmm,” Faust hummed, “Which makes sense since your mark is a bowline knot, if I’m not mistaken.” Faust gave a little chuckle, and Twilight couldn’t help but shake her head at the terrible pun. “Now, what is my mark, and what do you think it represents.”

“Why, ma’am, yours is the quill and inkwell!” cried Miss Drops without hesitation. “And it... um... I don’t know,” she admitted, “something to do with Fate, I always thought. That’s what the speakers always say.”

“Fate,” Faust gave a bitter laugh. “Look at me and ask yourself, if I was Fate, would I have allowed myself to end up like this? The answer is ‘no’, because if I was Fate, then I could just give myself a better Fate, yes? I’m not the Goddess of Fate, as has been taught for the last three thousand years...”

“I-I’m sorry ma’am, I didn’t mean anything...”

“No, you didn’t, and that is alright. I let myself believe my own propaganda, Miss Drops, and that can be a dangerous thing for an Aeth— for an alicorn.” Turning back to the flat sea, Faust said, “thank you, though.”

“What for, ma’am?”

“For being a friend. The last ones I had were... long ago.” Faust gave her head a little shake.

Face glowing at the praise, the mare raised a hoof to her brow then skirted back to her mates. Twilight could hear Miss Drops’ voice as she excitedly told her mates about her nieces names.

“That was a nice thing you did,” Twilight said, eyes drifting back to her book.

A light snort greeted her compliment. “I did nothing more than normal. It was only in person this time.”

A long period of silence grew, engulfing Faust as she became lost in her thoughts, and Twilight back in her dry, boring book.

Eventually the silence was broken as Faust said, “Don’t ever let yourself become confused about what you are, Twilight.”

Looking up from an especially dull bit on trimming sails for different wind conditions, Twilight responded with a rather articulate, “Huh?”

“You are the Stars and Wishes. Don’t ever forget that or let yourself begin to think you are anything more. You are not Navigation, though the stars may be used for such. You are not Magic, though the Stars grant you a great deal of aether. You are not Desire, or Hope, or even really Wishes, per se, since they are simply granted as part of the function of the Stars.” Faust shook her head as she explained. She then turned to the sea again, there being few other places to look, and continued as Twilight watched her, a pensive purse to her lips. “I told that mare that I wasn’t Fate, so what am I? I used to know. I can remember remembering, but nothing more. There was a word... it explained it... I know this... but I can’t recall the word itself. When did I lose myself? Was it when your sister passed? No, it was long before even then. So, when was it? When did I convince myself I was Fate?”

“Auntie, are you okay?” Twilight asked, voicing the question because it needed to be asked, not because she didn’t know the answer. Faust’s distress was written clear upon her face.

“I hope you never know the true bite of this curse, Twilight. That you’ll be able to retain your perspectives and your compassion in the millennia to come.”

Faust turned away from the sea, and instead began to watch Pinkie as the party pony got a game of pin-the-tail started near the mainmast. The bosun, master, and captain all turned blind eyes to the game, whistling as they looked everywhere else. “I like the new Element of Laughter. Hers is a much more pure and simple joy compared to Princess Platinum.”

In a flash the book was forgotten, Twilight’s head snapping up.

“Wait, what? Princess Platinum, like in the Hearth’s Warming tale, was the Element of Laughter?”

“Hmmm? Oh, yes. She had a far dryer, more wry sense of humour. Very contained, repressed almost. But she loved nothing more than seeing her ponies smiling. It was one of the reasons the long winter hit her so hard.” Faust gave a slight shake of her head. “But even as she lead the unicorns across the ocean, quite an endeavor at the time, she never forgot how to laugh.”

“The other Founders... were they also...?”

“Elements? Oh, yes,” Faust bobbed her head. “My grand attempt at redeeming my sister. What a failure. Yet, that wasn’t enough to get me to admit my own mistakes.”

Silence, sullen and thick, again claimed the conversation, Twilight trying to come up with something to say or ask. After several failed attempts, she returned to her book, and Faust to staring at nothing.

A short while later a low murmur rippled across the deck as Fleur emerged from below.

“Twilight, help us, there she goes,” one of the lower deck hooves said to another, nodding to Fleur, “the Jonah. She’s stolen the wind, now. What will be next?”

“Who said that?” Twilight’s voice cracked across the ship making several ponies jump.

Standing, Twilight thundered across the deck, casting a baleful glance about, looking this way and that until she stopped before the crewmare that had spoken. The mare gulped as Twilight towered over her. All eyes fixated on the princess, her spread wings and the tense set of her jaw.

“Your majesty?” the offending crewmare bowed low as she could.

Twilight just glared, then turned to look at all the other mares. They were a combination of curious and afraid. More than a few darting dark glances in Fleur’s direction. The ambassador stood to the side, watching the exchange, a glint of deep pain etched into her eyes. She shied away, letting her mane hide her face as she turned from the glares and mutterings of ‘Jonah’.

Standing straighter, letting the entire deck be encompassed by her presence, Twilight raised her voice until it was only just below Royal Canterlot levels of volume.

“If any pony thinks or believes this unnatural stillness is because of Fleur, you’re wrong.” Twilight stamped a hoof for emphasis. “I did this. I did not want my aunt to be recovering in a ship being tossed about the ocean. Fleur is not ‘cursed’!”

“But, she lied to you, Princess!” cried a voice from among those that were sewing. “She let the Seaweed sisters die!” added another.

Fleur snapped her head up at the second voice, tossing her mane and her eyes blazing. “Par Celestia! I did nothing of the sort! Quelle est cette folie?”

“She’s putting a curse on us!” yelped one mare.

“Oh, knock it off Clove Hitch, that was Prench, you bloody cherry!”

At once Captain Hardy’s deep voice roared from where he’d been observing. “Miss Pin, get that mares name! This is a ship of Their Majesties’ Navy, not some bawdy boarding school barracks. As for everypony else; back to your duties, the lot of you.”

Even Twilight almost jumped as Hardy stomped across the deck. With fire in his eyes, and his shoulders set, he gave a striking presence, one of absolute righteous power. The crew stood straighter beneath his baleful gaze, snapping crisp salutes before rushing off. Card games were ended and the waisters vanished below, leaving only the watch on deck.

“You shouldn’t have said that, Princess,” Hardy said, inclining his head for her to follow him back to the holy starboard quarterdeck. “They are a superstitious lot, sailors, but they are not foals. They’ll know that you’re trying to protect her. The Sea, she’s not tameable.”

Blushing, Twilight muttered, “I know, it’s like a giant Everfree.”

“Oh, no, she can be much worse,” Hardy said with a rumbling chuckle. “The Sea... the sea... She’s fire, and passion, yet cold and otherworldly. I have seen the great growlers floating from the Arctic in the late spring off the Banks, and I have stood proud at the helm of a sloop as she raced through a true, fall hurricane. As a colt I visited the far edge of the world and the wonders of the land down yonder. I have watched the narwhale breach glass smooth waters not unlike these, the sun cresting the rim to bring a new day, and I have seen an 80 gun second rate lose her head in a storm, turn side to the waves, and broach, taking seven hundred souls to the bottom in an instant. The Sea is alive, Princess, and you’d be best not to offend her.”

With those final words, Hardy touched his hat, and went below to tend to the paperwork of running the ship.

Twilight stood, for some time, watching the reflective light of the sun, before she returned to the poop.

As she passed Rainbow, the pegasus’ leg shot out and grabbed Twilight.

“Never again...” she groaned, rolling onto her side then hooves. “Never again are we going by ship.”

Before Twilight could respond, one of the stewards approached. “Some lunch, ma’am?” she asked, touching her hoof to her brow in a salute as she approached, a bowl of some thick, brown substance upon her back. “It’ll set you to rights, it will, ma’am. A pound of good Equestrian biscuits, all mashed up and with a ration of rum to keep it down.”

“Rum?” Faust called, head snapping over as her ears picked up the steward’s words.

“Aye, ma’am,” replied the steward as she set the bowl down before Rainbow, and took a spoon in her fetlock. The paste dribbled from the silver spoon in a slow, languid drip as the steward lifted it from the bowl. “Good, Marelantian rum.”

“You can not give her that,” stated Faust, her muzzle turned into a sharp frown.

“Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am, but why in Twilight’s star speckled mane not? Nothing like mashed biscuits and rum to settle the stomach.”

Holding out her hooves almost pleadingly, though Rainbow never begged for anything, ever, the pegasus asked, “Will it really help with this seasickness?”

“Course it will, or I ain’t Barrel Scraper, which’n being my name, ma’am.”

“Because she isn’t seasick,” Faust stated. “She is with foal.”

There wasn’t time for a poignant moment of silence as Faust’s words rumbled like thunder through Rainbow and Twilight before Pinkie appeared.

“Wow! Dashie is going to be a mommy?” Pinkie’s smile was as wide as the ship, her eyes shimmering like they held every one of Twilight’s stars. A little squee of pure joy escaped the party pony as she wrapped her best friend in the biggest, warmest, sugariest of hugs. “I was wondering what that little pinchy-pinch in the end of my tail was. I mean, I had it when Mrs. Cake was carrying the twins, and that means one of the ponies I love mostest is going to have a foal. But I also had this little itchy-itch at the tips of my ears and my mane would go all wibbly for the first week, which meant it was a combo, and combo’s are so hard to figure out. You know what this means, right?”

Stunned by Faust’s declaration and her friends exuberance, Rainbow didn’t think before asking, “No, what?”

Pinkie stopped talking long enough to suck in a deep breath before shrieking, “Foalshower Party!”

That got Rainbow’s train of thought moving again, the pegasus giving her head a rapid shake to clear the cobwebs.

“What? But... No!” Turning to Faust, Rainbow cried, “But... How can I be pregnant? I’ve not been with any stallions!”

“You’re a virgin, Dashie?” Pinkie tilted her head, a perplexed shimmer to her blue eyes.

“Huh? No! I’ve been with stallions before!” Rainbow protested, drawing chuckles from the several crew and officers listening in on the not-quiet or subtle conversation. Cheeks lighting up like the fireworks on Summer Sun Eve, Rainbow pressed ahead in a lower voice. “I’ve not been with a stallion during the season, Pinks. I’m not stupid. A foal would ruin any chance with the Wonderbolts. Besides, I’m not ready to be a mother.”

“Ready or not, it will happen.” Faust shifted a little on her cushions, stretching her good wing and waving Rainbow over. Hesitating only a second, Rainbow stood on shaky legs and crossed the deck to Faust to sit down beside the goddess. She was surprised when a white wing extended and drew her to Faust’s side.

“You’re sure about this?” Rainbow tried to laugh, but the noise became more of a strangled gargle. “I mean, I was fine until we got onto this stupid, slow, tub... Lots of pegasi have troubles with boats and sailing. You sure that’s not the problem?”

“I’m positive, my little pony,” Faust assured Rainbow softly.

“H-how? Why?” Rainbow asked, looking up at Faust for answers.

“The ‘how’, I can not say. As to the ‘why’, I can only guess.” Faust sighed, indicating with a hoof that Twilight, Pinkie, and Fleur should approach. “It is connected to Fleur, Tyr, and the night my sight... became blocked. Athena, Tyr, and the foal Twilight sails to rescue were not the only ones to appear. I counted ten disturbances in total. Three we know as the foals, the other seven I assume are their adult family. It should have been impossible for them to come to Ioka in the manner they did, but that is neither here nor there.

“You know about ‘Puff’, as Pinkie calls her, and her attempt to possess Twilight. She was driven off by Peewee, but if she hadn’t been, there is no telling what the spirit would have done. I suspect that Twilight and her would have battled, and no matter who won, the victor would have been shattered in the duel and emerged as a Nightmare.”

A gasp came from the four mares gathered around Faust, and she continued ahead before any could ask questions. She refused to have her own thoughts interrupted and disturbed.

“Athena took Fleur, and I am positive that the Elements of Kindness and Generosity both have uninvited guests as well. I find it very difficult to find either Rarity or Fluttershy within the Weave now.”

Again gasps, and again Faust pressed ahead.

“Of the six Elements, only Pinkie has been left alone. That isn’t to say she wasn’t visited the same night as the rest of you, it’s just that the entity, the spirit, turned away from Pinkie and instead followed the third foal to the middle reaches.”

“Aww, I could have had pretty, shimmering wings and a horn?” Pinkie pouted a little, crossing her hooves and ‘harumphing’.

“But, the spirits, the Aethyir, that visited you and Miss Applejack, they did something unexpected. They gave up all they were to be reborn.” Faust hugged Rainbow closer, feeling the pegasus trembling against the information.

It was Twilight who asked, “Wait, so, Applejack is... you know, as well?”

“Yes,” Faust confirmed with a twinkling smile. Looking down at Rainbow, “And you both will be excellent mothers. Melmëuva illumë yo endalye.”

“Uh, what?” Rainbow lifted a brow.

Stifling a giggle, Faust said, “You’ll understand, in time.”

Rainbow shifted a little uneasily, her own wings fluttering like she was about to fly away.

“I... I need some time to think,” Rainbow muttered before jumping over the stern railing and streaking off into the sky.

“Dash, wait,” Twilight called, giving an exasperated huff when Rainbow ignored her. “I better go make sure she’s okay,” Twilight said before opening her wings to follow her friend, Rainbow already almost invisible against the sea and sky.

Working her wings more than she’d ever done before, Twilight attempted to catch up to Rainbow. It quickly became evident that trying to chase Rainbow down was futile. Using a quick Teleport, Twilight crossed the distance. Rainbow jolted at the sudden flash of magic, almost crashing through the mirror smooth waters.

“Gah! Don’t do that Twi,” Rainbow snapped, gaining a bit of altitude before leveling back off.

“I was worried,” Twilight responded, a bit of bite in her tone. “You know flying on your own over the ocean is foalish. What if you couldn’t find your way back to the ship? We’re over a day away from the nearest bit of land!”

Rainbow opened her mouth to argue, then snapped it shut, looking away from Twilight instead. For some time they continued flying, side-by-side, with little alteration in course. The salty wind tussling their manes was the only difference from flying over Ponyville.

At last Rainbow spoke, banking to the south as she did so. “I’m not ready to be a mom, Twi.”

“I think most mares feel that way, Dash.” Twilight gave a small laugh as a memory flitted past. “Mother told me she was so afraid when she had her first foal.”

“Ugh, Twilight, that’s not what... I’m not worried about being a good mom. I’m going to be the best mom ever!” Rainbow gave a little laugh

“What? Then what’s all this about?” Twilight asked as they began heading towards a nearby cirrus.

Rainbow didn’t respond as they skimmed over the cirrus, hooves leaving little trails through the ice crystals. Twilight lost sight of Rainbow several times, the more agile pegasus weaving through and around the cloud. As they neared the cloud’s edge, Rainbow put on a burst of speed, tipping over the side and entering a dive.

Twilight had to work at keeping pace with Rainbow as they raced towards the ocean. Rainbow was completely at ease with her angular wings tucked in against her body, wind ripping across her face. She reached the bottom of her dive long before Twilight, wings flashing out to alter her course and shoot out over the water. Twilight pulled out of her dive long before her friend would have, her turn far slower and shallower. The tip of a hoof still managed to skip through a rolling wave before Twilight started climbing again.

“Haven’t you ever wondered why I don’t talk about my mom?” Rainbow sighed when Twilight caught up, spiralling upwards towards a towering, anvil-faced cumulousnimbus. Rainbow eyed the storm as they moved around it’s perimeter, a deep frown tugging at her face. “She’s never really been a part of my life. My dad is awesome. He basically raised me by himself. My herd-moms helped a bit, but they were always busy with their own foals. Mom though, the most I can give her was that she was just there,” Rainbow said more to herself than Twilight, back-winging to hover before the cloud. Staring ahead, Rainbow continued to speak. “She’s in the weather-guard, all the mares in my... family are.”

“You mean your Legion,” Twilight interjected.

Snorting, Rainbow shook her head. “Should have known you’d know about that. Yeah, my legion.” Rainbow gave another snort. “Stormbreakers, renowned for weather manipulation, and using the cover of storms to clobber their enemies. Mom’s a commander now, and she’s always pushing me to follow in her wake. That was her dream, though, not mine... Mine’s always been to race. To be a Wonderbolt!”

Hovering beside Rainbow, Twilight tried to give a comforting smile, but her friend was fixated on the developing storm.

“This isn’t part of the plan.” Rainbow paused as she looked past the storm to some distant, possible future. “Not many Legions will accept new ponies into them, Twi. There is an old pegasi saying, ‘The Legion is the peak the herd floats around’. The Wonderbolts might take in three or four new members over the next few years.”

Sighing, Twilight wished she could give Rainbow a hug. It’d mean entering free-fall, and every book Twilight had read on the subject made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that doing so over any body of water was a very bad idea. Instead, she just tried to make her presence felt.

“Dash, you’ve had the opportunity to abandon ponies before in pursuit of your dream.” Twilight said, moving to hover in front of Rainbow. “Nightmare Moon gave you the chance to be a Shadowbolt, all you had to do was turn away from four strangers and Fluttershy. But you didn’t.”

“Of course not! Who’d want to be some lame Shadowbolt?” Rainbow rolled her eyes.

Shaking her head, Twilight pressed her point. “No, you don’t understand how much character and Loyalty that took. Nightmare was lacing her offer with potent magic. The same kind I used on Smarty Pants.” Twilight paused to let her words sink in. “Plus, if it really was your dream of being a Wonderbolt that drove you, why did you come on this voyage?”

Snapping out of her stupor, Rainbow almost snarled as she said, “I’d never leave you or anypony hanging, Twi! It’d have just been you and Pinks. I didn’t feel right letting just the two of you go off without me.”

Twilight gave her head a little shake as she slid to Rainbow’s side. “I know the choice you’ll be making, Dash. I think you do to.”

“It’s not fair though!” Rainbow yelled, tossing up her hooves and shooting forward a few lengths before turning to face Twilight. “Giving up a couple years to spend time with you and Pinkie, okay, sure. But I made that choice, Twi! This,” Rainbow gestured to her midsection, “I didn’t make this choice. This has been forced on me.”

Twilight reared back as if she’d been kicked, cogs that should have been turning before roaring to action. She felt a fool, mentally kicking herself for not making the realization herself.

“Yes, it was, and I realise how unfair that is,” Twilight fluttered to Rainbow, and finally wrapped her friend in a hug, the pair falling a few yards to the rim of the cloud. “But there is nothing we can do about it.”

“No, there isn’t,” Rainbow agreed, kicking a puff of cloud. “The pony responsible is inside me.”

“Yes, she is.” Twilight said softly, feeling her friend shake, though in anger, sadness, or some combination of the two, Twilight was unsure. “And think what Faust said; she gave up all she was in doing so.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“No, it’s to help you understand. Look at what is happening to Fleur. There are two souls waring inside her for dominance, and the balance favours Athena more and more. What I hope is that instead of attempting to steal your life, this pony decided to have you as her mother. As you said, you’re going to be the best mom ever.”

Rainbow stopped shaking, taking a deep breath and letting it out through her nose, staring out over the ocean from their perch on the storm’s edge. Eventually she gave a weak chuckle, brushing a lock of her mane out of her face.

“This is so messed up, Twi.”

“No argument here,” Twilight quickly responded, the pair descending into a sullen silence as they continued to sit holding each other. After a while, Twilight gave Rainbow a little squeeze and said, “Come on, we should head back to the Bellerophon.”

“Yeah, I guess so... uh... where is it?” Rainbow swung her head around, but of the ship there was no sign.

Stifling a smirk, Twilight pointed to the north. “It’s that way, about thirty miles or so. I can sense my aunt there fairly easily.”

The flight back to the ship was done in silence, Rainbow retreating back into her thoughts. She spoke only once, when the Bellerophon came into view on the horizon, to say thanks to Twilight. For her part, Twilight just smiled in return. After taking a turn about the ship, receiving a few whistles and calls from the deck, the pair landed almost exactly where they had flown from hours earlier.

Faust and the others had hardly moved. Pinkie bounded over and gave Rainbow a big hug, one the pegasus didn’t reject. After what felt like ages, the two parted and Rainbow approached Faust.

Taking a steadying breath, Rainbow asked, “do you know her name?”

“Yes, I do.”

“What is it?”

Hesitating, Faust lowered her head, asking, “Do you wish to learn now? The pilgrimages to my temples have already begun.”

A low, rough chuckle rocked Rainbow, the pegasus wiping a tear from her eye. “Naw, I’ve never really been interested in that, no offense. I mean, I would have if I ever decided to have a foal. But you’re here, so why bother with all that mysticism mumbo-jumbo, right? You told that sailor the names of her sister’s foals, after all, and how many mares get to say that the Namegiver gave her foal’s name to her, face to face?”

“Very well,” Faust laughed along with Rainbow. “Her name is Zephyr Victoria Dash.”

“Zephyr Victoria Dash,” Rainbow repeated. “I think I like it. Yeah, that’s a cool name for a filly.”

A polite cough ended any further conversation, Timely standing next to the mizzen, his loblolly filly in his shadow carrying the medicine bag.

“Your majesty, ladies, my apologies, but I must see to the patient.”

Faust’s face contorted in displeasure, whether at the interruption or the stallion himself, Twilight was unsure. Nevertheless, she dismissed the others with a nod and addressed the physician. “You do realise that you are wasting both yours and my time.”

“Yes, yes, you wish to make yourself lame,” Timely said disinterestedly. “And how would that look, madam? The Goddess of Names, forever limping until the end of time? No, you decry my tinctures and ministrations, cry, ‘I am Aethyir and need no doctor’, but alicorn or not, goddess or no, bones don’t set themselves, bandages do not replace themselves, and if care is not taken, then infection and gangrene ever wait for the unwary.”

“Infection and gangrene.” Faust lifted her nose into the air and snorted. “I can catch neither.”

“Perhaps so,” Timely admitted as he unwound bandages, piling those that were soiled to one side to be burned. He would not be responsible for an alicorn’s blood falling into the wrong hooves. Many were the mare or stallion aboard who’d unwittingly take a bandage as a charm against the Jonah, and should the charm than fall into the wrong hooves... Timely shuddered at the mere thought. “If you can be wounded by a pony then you can be afflicted by a mold or an ill turn of the humours. I will not stake my reputation on your word against Celestia’s retribution. Now, hold still.”

As he worked —pressing his hooves to Faust’s throat or along her neck, using several different scanning spells on her broken limbs— he kept up a steady stream of explanation to his loblolly filly. She almost shook as he described the proper method of setting a bone, putting on a cast, and then the spells necessary to maintain or, if needed, replace it. Twilight couldn’t help but smile at the occasional question the filly, almost a young mare, would ask.

A three thousand year old system of apprenticeship, playing out before her eyes. Twilight fondly thought back to her time as Celestia’s student. All across Equestria there were tens of thousands of similar mentorships happening. She was brought out of her reverie by her aunt’s sharp voice.

“Excuse me, you wish to look at my what?”

“Your tongue, madam,” Timely repeated his demand.

Scowling, Faust set her jaw, lifting her nose high. “No, I draw the line at my tongue.”

Stifling a laugh, Twilight noted the blush creeping across Faust’s cheeks.

“Madam, I care not for your reasons, but I must insist. An examination of the tongue is paramount to ascertaining the state of your humours.”

“To Tartarus with your humours,” Faust snapped, “You’ve poked, prodded, and scanned me enough! I will not show you my tongue.” The last she said in an almost inaudible hiss, her eyes flashing as a deep scowl set about her features.

“Again, I must insist. Decry it as much as you want. Stamp your hooves and pout like a petulant filly all you will, it does little to change things. Your tongue, madam!” Timely’s unnaturally cold eyes grew colder still as he began to light his horn with magic.

Only Twilight’s quick intervention prevented the argument from escalating. “Auntie, you should let the good doctor examine your tongue,” she said, making her words gentle and comforting rather than accusatory.

“It is not done,” Faust protested, feathers on her good wing ruffling. She added in a lower voice, “Especially not in public.”

“‘Not in public’?” Twilight and Timely echoed together, the former in puzzlement, the later in consternation. With a soft ‘oh’, the pieces fell into place for Twilight. Stepping forward, she extended her wings to create a small barrier. “Would some privacy help?”

“I- uh, yes, a little,” Faust admitted, doggedly holding her head.

Turning away, Twilight gave a slight glare at anypony that had been observing the proceedings. Behind her she hear Timely mutter something to himself, but didn’t catch the words.

Safely ensconced from view, Timely approached, and in a gentler, yet still clinical, voice asked, “Madam, your tongue now, if you please?”

Relenting, Faust opened her mouth.

After a short examination, Timely said, “I do not like your pallor. Have you been eating your dinner properly? No, don’t try to fib, I can tell you haven’t by the yellowness of your skin beneath your coat. A diet of pickled beets, corn, and a glass of red wine to fortify the blood and bowels. I’d say that to do so would prevent you from becoming a corpse, but given your nature, you’d probably stay withered on the vine.”

“Withered on the vine?” Faust managed a slight, and only a slight, snort of amusement. “I am the Namegiver, old as the world herself, I can’t die.”

“Oh, fie on that ‘can’t die’ business, madam.” Timely gave a snort of his own, one of deep contrition. “Don’t think I wasn’t selected for this voyage specifically by the Naval Medical Board, and Celestia herself. I know all about alicorn physiology, and while your spirit, your essence and soul, if you will, are indeed unconquerable, your body is very much susceptible to being battered and bludgeoned as the next pony. You are sturdier, perhaps, but not invulnerable. And so long as you are my patient, I will make sure you remain among the living. Now, I think you’ve had enough sun. Let’s get you back to the cabin and bed.”

“Wait!” Pinkie cried, jumping up from where she’d been watching the banter between the doctor and his patient with an amused grin. “If Fausty goes to bed she can’t teach Twilight all the big, whooshy, flashy fighting spells. Twilight’s going to need them soon.”

Suppressing an exasperated sigh, Twilight pulled Pinkie back even as she went to help carry her aunt back to the great cabin.

“There will be time for that soon enough, Pinkie,” Twilight said kindly.

Pinkie’s bright blue eyes began to shimmer with tears as she pouted. “But... your training montage!”

“My... what?” Twilight deadpanned.

“Your training montage! I had music and everything ready. There was going to be quick-cuts, and fade-outs, and changing backdrops to show the passage of time.”

Unable to do anything else, Twilight rubbed her face with a hoof and said, “Pinkie, something so ludicrous would never work. If I need to learn how to fight, and I have to admit that with everything that has happened this voyage, it’d be a good idea, but if I have to, I’ll do it the normal way; with books and a teacher.”

“Well, of course you’d have books and a teacher! Those would be part of the montage, silly.” Pinkie giggled, then rubbed her chin, “But yeah, I suppose learning between scenes makes sense too. It’s not as much fun as a montage though.”

Shaking her head, Twilight decided it was best just to ignore Pinkie. As she tucked Faust into her cot, a vesper wind tickled the topgallants. They were soon followed by a truer wind. The crew raced aloft, sails were trimmed, and by the time Twilight returned to the deck, the Bellerophon was singing through the seas towards the distant Zebrican coast.

* * *

Over the cloud soaked skies of Zebrica, Sirius hovered. She was surrounded by her sisters, but had never felt more alone. The others were all still discussing the events in Trotalonia, and how they might impact them and their mistress. Twilight, she was their center, their guide, their protector, she who would for the rest of time be their other half. To Sirius she had another role, that of the usurper; she who stole the night away from Luna.

The star could feel her at all times, a small pressure at the edge of her awareness, and the star seethed. What angered the star the most was the absolute love she felt for the Mistress, a love strong as those between mother and daughter. The star hated that she loved the usurper.

Flitting above the clouds, she reached out with her magic, swishing their tops until they became twisted wisps that drifted away on the high breezes, burning off a small part of the anger she felt.

She was even helping the usurper, in a fashion. The Mistress sought to find and protect Talona, and so did the ghostly essence of Hope.

Panting a little, Sirius stopped her antics, releasing the remaining tendrils of cloud from her magical grasp. She wanted to go back down to the world, below the clouds, where she could do some good. But it took too much energy to manifest down below the sky. If not for the mistress, the star would have perished on her most recent excursion below. That she had managed to manifest several times in the past few months amazed her, but she had reached even her limit.

Unless she Fell.

But she was not ready to fall, to abandon her sisters forever; or so she thought.

Many stars had fallen over the ages, either tired of the endless vigil over the world below, or pulled from the sky. The last to fall had been Acamar, the river’s end, falling as she wept for the loss of Luna, and the hope that the Princess of the Night would be healed of her madness so that she could return their sisters taken from the sky to be used as weapons against Celestia.

Before Acamar, it had been Almundra, the Sable Star, stolen from the night by griffon wizards seeking a weapon against Discord.

With Almundra fell the Griffon Empire, the stars abandoning their vigil over the lands ruled by the Star-Stealers, denying them their guidance. Almundra's fate, like so many of the stars lost to the night, was unknown. She was lost to her sisters unless the Mistress could find her and bring her home.

Not that the Mistress knew anything about Acamar, Almundra, or the hundreds of others that were missing.

The star wondered what it would be like to fall. To truly give up her place in the heavens and burn across the sky in fire and magic. She toyed with the idea, turning it over and over in her mind. The star felt too important and head-strong to ever fully leave the night, but the idea was tempting.

Sirius, so this is where you've been hiding, chortled a voice behind the star, making her jerk out of her ruminations.

Growling, Sirius spun about, and found herself energy to energy with Polaris.

Sister, what are you doing this low in the sky?

I'm thinking and waiting, Sister, Sirius explained in a flat tone.

Polaris paused, the lodestar drifting closer. Sirius felt a warm touch from her sister gather around her followed by Polaris' worried voice.

You are going to leave us, aren't you? You're going to Fall.

No, of course not. I could never abandon you or our sisters. I'm just confused and need to figure things out. Sirius shook herself, trying to infuse her voice with surety, but she could hear the tremor of self-doubt.

There was a poignant pause as Polaris drew away, floating a short distance back up into the night. Sirius watched her sister drifting away, a sad note in the flickering of her light.

No, you're wrong, you're lying to yourself and me. Polaris' light turned a melancholy blue, her form growing dim among the black tapestry above. You have never been the same since Luna was consumed by madness, Sister.

It wasn't right what happened to her. She was corrupted by that abomination, an abomination that we were instrumental in creating. Sirius lamented, her voice taking on a hard edge as she turned away from Polaris and again considered the world so far below.

As always, she could see only ever half the world. What lay on the far side of the world the stars would never know. Only that Sun and Moon traveled there to sleep and let their twin have their turn among the heavens. Moon had once told the stars that there was an island where she and Sun would sleep until called to rise by their Mistress. Sirius was unsure if Moon spoke the truth or was just teasing and playing with the stars. A few stars had tried to sneak behind Moon and peak beyond the horizon, only to be forced back by the same field of magic that kept them in the sky.

Ignoring the horizon, Sirius sent her gaze down to the griffon aerie on Kilagrifjaro.

Through a window she saw Talona, the small filly protesting as she was put to bed by a grizzled old griffoness. After several minutes fussing, the bed sheets were pulled up to Talona's chin and the filly settled, though she did shoot a venomous glare at the griffon's retreating back.

Sirius smiled.

She was starting to like the fire and energy of Talona, even though the two had never met. Sirius felt drawn to the filly, though she couldn't explain why. There was just a spark flickering within Talona, a small pulse of energy that reminded the star of something she'd forgotten eons ago.

Wiggling from side to side, the equivalent of shaking her head, Sirius looked away from the aerie. She was surprised when her gaze fell on the pink fog that was Hope as it rolled and bounded across the countryside.

It had been several days since Sirius had been able to connect with and help the ghostly apparition. Hope had left the sun-scorched plains and humid jungles and was instead flowing through tilled fields and past the towns and cities that dotted western Zebrica. Sirius brightened as she watched Hope enter a village, moving from hut to hut as it touched the villagers dreams, before Hope again continued on its way, bounding across the land.

Go, Polaris said, gliding closer so that she could wrap her magic about Sirius in a tender hug.

Sirius hardened at her sister's touch, her voice leaving her at Polaris' suggestion.

She turned and saw, gathered above them, all their sisters. They had stopped their habitual dancing and watched with curiosity and sadness.

Go, Polaris repeated, releasing Sirius and drifting back towards their sisters. Do what you feel you must.

Sirius floated lower, her gaze never wavering from the pink fog. She could feel the tug of curiosity and longing. She wanted to be with Hope, helping the apparition bring its namesake to the world. Watching the world wasn't enough, not anymore. Sirius had to touch it, to feel it, and help shape it. Certainty took hold of her as she continued her slow descent.

I'll miss all of you, she said, not looking back for fear of her resolve faltering. Sirius knew she wouldn't be able to take the next step if she looked towards her sisters. Sisters she knew she probably would never again be able to speak with, dance with, and watch the world with.

Steeling herself, Sirius leapt forward, the night sky trembling with a sharp crack. She felt the ancient magic that helped keep her aloft in the sky fight her sudden motion, trying to cling to the star as she gained speed and momentum. Then the magic lost its grip, the air around Sirius igniting as the star tumbled toward the earth.

A deep throaty roar filled her senses with noise and light, burning through her essence. Sirius tried to control her fall a little, flicking a piece of her magic to one side so she began to spin and tumble. A bubbling laugh, joyful and pure, flowed from her, the ground growing closer and closer.

She smiled as she passed over the towns and fields of Zebrica, the land's occupants, awoken by the initial explosion, filtering out of their homes to watch the spectacle. More and more pieces of magic broke away from Sirius, the star hissing in pain.

Even that was a novelty, Sirius having never experienced physical pain before.

Her magic burned away in a corona of white light as she fell. Sensations that she'd never experienced before began to flood into her. She could feel her magic pulling, stretching and crystallizing. Pain gave way to an odd sense of pressure focused at a point before her. The light peeled back and she blinked, wind pulling at lips and eyelids. Fire and agony filled Sirius, coursing through her new body. For a brief moment Sirius was neither a star, nor was she whatever she was becoming. And then she felt the oddest sensation yet, a dull throb inside her as her new heart beat for the first time.

Laughing and screaming, she fell lower and lower, entering the lower clouds. She lost sight of the heavens and the earth for a moment, her world becoming a hissing bubble of moisture gathered in the cloud's belly. Bursting from the cloud like a golden spear, Sirius closed her eyes. Rain splashed across her new face and onto her wings, tickling senses she'd never possessed before.

The last of her magic rearing up into a protective shell, Sirius crashed into the earth, the ground shaking for miles as the former star dug a deep wound into rock and mud.

High above, Sirius' sisters wept, their tears showering through the night in fiery displays. As they wept they listened for the inevitable; for the Wishes.

Chapter Fifteen: Seven Wishes

Myths and Birthrights

By Tundara

Part Two: Tremors in the East

Chapter Fifteen: Seven Wishes

Faust and Timely’s bickering rolled over the Bellerophon’s deck, unable to be avoided even by those repainting the ship’s figurehead.

Stepping to the larboard rail, Fleur paid little attention as the pair went back and forth. Her thoughts were consumed with what she’d learned, focusing on the most important aspect; she didn’t need to be in a war for her very existence. Fleur’s heart squeezed at the the idea that instead she could have a new life growing inside her.

To her right, Fleur could see Rainbow glaring out over the placid sea. Occasionally, Rainbow would glance down at herself and grimace. It was clear that, despite her words, she was still in turmoil.

Bitter tears pricked along the rim of Fleur’s eyes. How was it fair that Rainbow, who didn’t want a foal, should have such a blessing, while she was locked in a lopsided battle?

It isn’t fair that she should possess what you long for when she not only doesn’t want it, but is afraid of it, whispered Athena, the dead goddess chuckling as Fleur set her jaw. The worlds aren’t fair, however. It doesn’t matter which one, even the most ordered and perfect has flaws. The Quus did their work well. Athena paused, and Fleur could feel something like her unwelcome guest taking a thoughtful breath. Neither Rainbow Dash nor I are, or were, deserving of motherhood. I could not even look upon my foal after she was born and refused to even bless her with a name. I looked upon her and saw nothing but betrayal and loss. Will Rainbow see only what my cousin has taken from her? Or will she see what she has been given? Only time can tell.

“Why didn’t you do the same?” Fleur said in a low growl, grinding her teeth together. “I would have been overjoyed and seen it for a miracle.”

I did not because you or I could not, Athena stated, then, with a low chuckle, added, Though in all probability I still would have chosen this path. A single mortal is inconsequential in the scope of things.

“You are heartless,” Fleur spat, the tears beginning to spill down her face, spurred by the injustice.

I prefer ‘pragmatic’. Wisdom decrees that sometimes one must sever a limb to preserve the body, kill to prevent future suffering, or do what is amoral for the greater good.

“We have very different ideas of Wisdom, then.”

For the moment, Athena gave a low chuckle. Faust has evened the field between us. I’d say it will be interesting to see how long you maintain your morals should you win, but I will be gone and lost to the Aether if you are victorious, so...

“You made this bed.” Fleur lifted her chin. “You could have chosen another.”

Perhaps, but you were the most compatible. By the time I had gained enough awareness, it was too late.

“You alright, ma’am?” Timely asked, his voice at Fleur’s shoulder making her jump and silencing Athena.

“O-Oui, je vais bien,” Fleur quickly responded, doing her best to put on a smile and not draw attention to the matted fur on her muzzle.

“I detest a liar, ma’am,” snapped the doctor, pulling out two thick cigars from the breast pocket of his vest. “You are clearly distressed. It is not your tenant, is it? Faust mentioned that the two of you would soon be able to communicate more freely. Perhaps I speak too loosely. She did speak out of turn, her tongue freed by her medicine. Then again, your health, your mental health, is under my purview as the ship’s physician. It is as a doctor I speak, ma’am. I’ve seen many a mare and stallion succumb to flights of dementia. How could some not? Confined to a floating coffin for months or years on end, endlessly driven by the officers, death waiting just beyond every horizon. There is little of Equestria’s freedom on the sea. It is my duty, mind you, to ensure healthy bodies and spirits. I have seen mare’s go mad for land and think they see a field of grass and hurl themselves overboard to be eaten by sharks. Should you suffer such a bout of dementia it could be far worse for all. There, I have laid all bare on the matter, now, your answer.”

Fleur considered lying again. She didn’t have the heart to attempt to insist that she was fine. The piercing light in the doctor’s eye made her doubt such a lie would work regardless. So, she took the offered cigar, lit it with a simple flame cantrip, and took a long pull of the vile thing to settle her nerves.

“I cannot have foals, doctor,” Fleur stated, her tone flat and emotionless.

“Ah, I see,” was all Timely said, and all that needed saying. For several minutes the two stood in silence, sending up thin streams of smoke, then Timely said, “I was in love, once. Long ago, mind you. I have since cured myself of the affliction. She was a beautiful young mare. Moon-born, with a coat like sapphires and eyes yellow as the center of a daisy. She did not love me back, however, and joined with an established herd some time ago. Has two lovely fillies now, last I heard. Our beloved captain, once thought a confirmed rake —I recall one time in Marenilla he tried to smuggle two sisters into the chain locker, ahem, I begin to digress— my dear friend has a monogamous marriage and seven, merciful Celestia, seven foals. I don’t know where he found the time to create such a brood.”

Frowning around her cigar, Fleur asked, “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Nothing, and everything. Life is not static, and it doesn’t always give us what we expect, my dear. But we move on, put one hoof before the other and dream of what tomorrow will bring and pray to the Goddesses that it is better than yesterday.” Timely gave a chuckle. Leaning against the railing, his gaze shifted sidelong to where he’d come. “You never know what life will throw in your path.”

Flicking the stub of his cigar into the placid water around them, Timely excused himself and went below to dissect a peculiar petrel that had died the previous evening in the catting for the larboard anchor.

Fleur remained at the rail. She was there long after the Elements and Faust had retired below. She was still there when Twilight stepped out and, in a swish of her horn, woke the stars before returning to the great cabin.

Around her the crew went about their duties, stepping lively as a sharp, cool wind floated across the deck and caressed the sails. There was a flow of bodies up the mast, spurred on by the bosun’s whistle, where they set about trimming of sails to take advantage of the timid zephyr. The wind stayed with them long enough to reach the edge of the blessed trades and the sails filled to their fullest.

She was still at the railing as eight bells were rung, signalling the end of the Dog watch and the start of the First watch. After two months at sea, her mind quickly translated this to mean it was eight in the evening.

It was then, her sight and thoughts having long dwelled elsewhere, that Fleur was brought back to the present by a peculiar sight. Two stars drew closer to one-another, and then the brighter of the two began to descend until it was falling. Flames, pink-blue, leapt across the night from the streaking point of light creating dancing auroras like a wake.

There was a cry from below, pained and confused, but Fleur paid it little heed.

Focusing on the twirling wreath of light about the falling star Fleur remembered something her mother had once told her. It didn’t matter who you were, pauper or princess, when you wished upon a falling star. All that mattered was how strongly you wished.

Closing her eyes, Fleur silently said, “Je veux être en mesure d'avoir des poulains.”

She let the wish fill her, seeping through every vein and along each hair, making her coat tingle. She wished with all the strength of her heart.

She did not see Regulus twinkle a little brighter. The Queenmaker took the wish into herself, the purity of the desire for motherhood filling the star with a gentle blue light.

Fleur did see Twilight stagger out of the great cabin, the princess’ magic sputtering and sparking from the tip of her horn. Crew and officer alike jumped to help the struggling alicorn, only to be pushed back as a wave of energy erupted from her. With a howl, Twilight threw back her head, a beam of magenta aether tearing itself free before roaring into the sky.

Collapsing onto the deck, Twilight panted as if she’d just finished a marathon, her wings draped across the rail for support. She had little time to recover, before she stiffened, and a second beam of magic scoured its way up into the night. Five more times the process repeated itself.

On the fifth, Fleur felt a tingle flicker across her coat, working it’s way down her back and into her abdomen. The feeling was both cool and warm, making her skin roll and insides twitch, but not unpleasantly.

As the sensation passed, and Fleur carefully edged her way towards the princess, Athena gave a low, bemused chortle.

* * *

The day was clear, the air fresh and warm with summer on Big Mac’s face as he trotted up the cobblestone path to Fluttershy’s cottage. The draught pony had an old clan song on his lips, and he felt exceedingly content. Sure, there was a mountain of work still waiting to be attended to at the orchard, Apple Bloom was going through a difficult phase, wanting to turn every flower, weed, and root she found into a potion or poultice of some sort, and Applejack had become as sore as a nag with a nail in her hoof.

Despite these concerns, Mac wasn’t worried. He’d take care of them all in time, one by one, same as he always had. He also had a sneaking suspicion about what had been bothering Applejack, and he hoped to soon have it dealt with, one way or the other.

So, he lifted his head a little higher, took in a deep breath of the sweet air that permeated the area around Fluttershy’s cottage, and enjoyed the beautiful day.

“Oh, no, you shouldn’t do that,” came Fluttershy’s voice, flittering down the path.

Mac’s ears pricked forward, wondering who the pegasus was speaking with. Probably Applejack, Mac thought at first. The idea quickly vanished, it was market day and Applejack would be selling the produce. Frowning, Mac slowed and began to creep forward, muffling his hooves on the grass as he attempted to hear whoever Fluttershy was speaking with.

“Stan couldn’t stay... Well, I suppose. But I don’t want you to do that... Oh, dear, no, I’m not trying to argue. I’m sorry, I didn’t... Oh. Oh! I’m sorry, you were joking, I... somepony is coming?”

Rounding the corner of the cottage, Mac saw Fluttershy sitting at her garden table, alone. There was nopony, or zebra for that matter —Zecora often taking tea with Fluttershy— present. There were dozens of woodland critters. Everything from squirrels and field mice to the great brown bulk of Mr. Bear arrayed like a living carpet around the pegasus. The trees were awash with birds, and one was even nesting between Fluttershy’s ears.

“Oh, hello Macintosh!” Fluttershy said, a wide grin and relief making her face glow in the early dusk light. “What are you doing out here?”

“Well, I was curious about something that’s been on my mind for some time. Reckoned I’d come over and ask, is all,” Mac hesitantly said, concentrating on making his way through the hundreds of animals without harming any.

“Oh, y-you do?” Fluttershy asked, shrinking down on her cushion.

“Eeyup,” he said, finally reaching a cushion, and carefully sitting after making sure it was clear of critters. “Heard you talking as I came up the path. Thought you might have company.”

Fluttershy trembled a little, a single bead of sweat pricking along her brow.

“C-company? No, just my little animal friends.”

“Eeyup, see that now,” Mac said.

“S-so, you came to ask me something?” Fluttershy shifted a little on her cushion, looking anywhere but at him.

“I was curious if’n you’d want to go out someday.” Mac stated. Outwardly he gave the same, stoic expression he always possessed. Inwardly his heart was beating like he’d just been in a race with Applejack after dragging on old tree out by it’s roots.

“A d-date?” Fluttershy’s mouth fell open, a couple of the squirrels cooing and making fainting motions before breaking out in snickering. “O-oh, I-I’m not so... so...” Snapping her eyes shut, Fluttershy took a steadying breath, and asked, “Do you mean to court us?”

There was something else in her voice, something that made it seem to trill, almost, but Mac couldn’t quite place it.

Lifting a brow, both at the question and the way Fluttershy’s voice seemed to shift, Mac slowly nodded and gave an, “Eeyup.”

“Why do you ask now?” Fluttershy continued, eyes still closed, but a pleasant smile on her lips.

Figuring she was keeping her eyes closed to avoid a panic attack, Mac gave a tilt of his head. It helped that it made her look so cute. Eyes gently shut, her smile made his heart beat faster.

“Been watching you for a while now, Miss Posey,” Mac began, using a cough to compose himself. “Thought you were the prettiest mare around, but that don't mean much in the long haul of things. Then I got to know you, what with you coming around to see Applejack, or the times you’d be chasing one of your critters through the acres. Saw you were an even prettier soul; gentle, sweet, kind as kind can be. Been waiting for you to work up the courage to ask yourself, but...” Mac shrugged as he concluded his little explanation.

“What about Cheerilee?” Fluttershy laid her chin, eyes still closed, on her folded hooves.

Mac let out a short chuckle. “Ain’t nothing there. We’re just friends is all. Been that way since we were little.”

“So, you and she are not courting?” Fluttershy pressed, leaning forward ever-so-slightly.

“Nope.” Mac gave his head a languid shake. “So, would you—”

“We will go out tomorrow, if that is acceptable?” Fluttershy said, mouth tight with anticipation beneath her closed eyes.

Mac wished she’d open her eyes, he enjoyed the way they would shine like aquamarines when she smiled. He was also a little off-put by how forceful she had become. Then again, he’d seen how she could get when pushed or during an especially bad day.

“Sounds good.”

“Excellent!” Fluttershy gave her hooves an excited clap. “I believe social etiquette is for the mare to take the stallion to dinner and then to a film or play.”

“Don’t need to go to all that. Dinner’s just fine,” Mac said as he stood. “Sides, since I think I technically asked you out, it’ll be my treat.” Giving Fluttershy a smile and nod, though she saw neither with her eyes still clamped shut, Mac bid her a good evening, and began the walk home.

If he had looked back just before turning the corner of the path, he would have seen Fluttershy open her eyes, and a bright glow emanating from their depths.

“Yay!” Artemis squealed, “We get to go on a date! Daddy never let me go on a date. I wonder what we should wear? Green brings out the colour of our eyes wonderfully, and goes so well with our coat and mane, don’t you agree, Fluttershy?”

W-well, yes, Fluttershy squeaked within her own mind. I really wish you hadn’t done that, though.

“Why not?” Artemis tilted their head. “I know you like him, and he just admitted he likes you. Isn’t a date what normal ponies do when they like each other?”

Um, I suppose... Fluttershy admitted. But he’s Big Mac! The kindest, strongest, most eligible gentle-stallion in all of Ponyville!

“I’m pretty sure he just used most of those adjective to describe you...” Artemis giggled. “Aphrodite couldn’t conceive of a more perfect match! You’ll be so precious together.”

Stretching, Artemis made her way into the cottage, the sea of woodland critters dispersing towards their burrows. Over the course of the next couple hours, Artemis and Fluttershy shifted position several times; Fluttershy taking care of her animals, and Artemis brushing Stan the chimera’s coat free of tangles and burrs. Fluttershy cooked two smaller dinners. While she had a salad, Artemis had a small piece of fish, taken from those used to feed the river otters, fried in olive oil with garlic, and served cold with grated cheese atop noodles, a glass of simple white wine available to wash it down.

Artemis, are you okay? Fluttershy asked as Artemis pushed her food around the plate. You’re not hungry, are you... I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have eaten first.

“No, it is not that,” Artemis said, lifting a small portion of her meal. Savouring the tastes and textures, she wondered how much to tell Fluttershy. Yes, they shared a body and their minds touched, but there was much they could keep hidden from the other. Deciding on the truth, Artemis said, “I worry for you, friend Fluttershy. I only continue to grow stronger, and since re-awakening, I have noticed that you fade more and more. Today is the first day where I’ve been in control longer than you.”

I’m just a little tired today, that’s all. I don’t mind you having time to stretch your legs.

Realizing that trying to explain her worries would only trouble Fluttershy, Artemis finished her meal in silence, wondering how many more she’d be able to share with Fluttershy before the pegasus vanished, and she was alone.

Since Fluttershy had made dinner, Artemis did the cleaning up before heading upstairs. Stepping into the bedroom, Artemis looked up in time to see Sirius streaking across the night.

Oh, how pretty! Fluttershy cooed.

Artemis remained silent as she watched the falling star, then asked, “Fluttershy, do you trust me?”

Y-yes? I suppose so...

“Can you wish on the star to help me?” Artemis’ voice contained a slight tremor as she asked the question, one she knew she had no right to ask.

Help you? I don’t need to wish on the star to want that. Fluttershy’s worry and confusion filled her voice.

“It’s important, Daughter of Posey,” Artemis whispered. “Wish to help me, and nothing more. Do it now, please.”

The glow leaving their shared eyes, Fluttershy looked up at the falling star, folded her hooves, and wished. She let the wish flow from her heart and wings, and though it had been suggested to her, it was still her own.

Above, Rukbat shone a bright, blood red as she heard the wish, smiling upon the desire to help another. Beside her, Brachium listened for the other half of the wish. What she heard shocked her, almost enough that she nearly refused to take it into herself. But she did, and the two stars sighed as they awaited their Mistress’ call to complete their duty.

* * *

Fireworks exploded over Cantershire in the grand finale to Trixie’s show, lighting the new night with flashes of pink and yellow.

Trixie herself stood at the center of her wagon-turned-stage, hooves in the air and a huge grin on her face as she soaked up the applause given by the moderately sized crowd. Above her floated her signature pointed hat, held up by an invisible magical grip —a feat very few unicorns could accomplish— so that it appeared to be flying on it’s own. Her horn was surrounded in her normal light-blue aura as she levitated a thin, white rope, making it dart and chase after her hat.

“Come back here, Hat! Trixie commands you!” she shouted, falling back onto her hooves and scowling up at the darting object, much to the delight of the foals in the front row. “You’re messing up the fireworks!” Stomping her hooves in mock anger, Trixie made the rope shoot forwards.

At the same time she made the hat drop down onto the head of one tiny filly. With a simple illusion, covered by the manipulation of the rope, Trixie made the hat’s brim appear to split and a tongue roll out to give her a long, loud raspberry.

“When Trixie gets her hooves on you, you’ll be in for it, hat!” she shouted, making the fillies and colts laugh even louder, their parents joining them, stomping their hooves in applause.

The rope darted forward. The Hat ducked and weaved, occasionally razzing both Trixie and the rope. Trixie hurled dire warnings at the errant object. Eventually she ended the show, Hat having defeated her rope using the Selbit Box that Trixie had used to saw Shyara in half during the show’s first act, as an additional flurry of fireworks lit the sky.

Floating her hat back to her head, Trixie bowed again, saying, “The Great and Powerful Trixie thanks you, ponies of Cantershire, it has been a delight to entertain you this day.”

The crowd began to disperse, a few ponies coming forward to thank Trixie for the show. Thanking them for the compliments and bits, Trixie smiled as she packed up her wagon, pulling the hidden switches and levers necessary for the stage to roll up like the tongue of a hound, becoming a nondescript wall. When the last townspony had left, Shyara slunk out of the shadows.

“That was a really good show,” she said, hopping up onto the wagon’s steps and letting her back hooves dangle in the air.

“It was, wasn’t it?” Trixie beamed, sitting down beside the filly. “Your screams were a bit much during the Selbit Box bit.”

Shrugging, Shyara gave Trixie a cheeky smile. “I thought they added to the horror of the act.”

“A little too much,” Trixie gave her tongue a disapproving click. “Trixie tries not to give foals nightmares, but to have a little fear before the reveal. A little fear can be fun, like on Nightmare Night.”

“What’s that?”

“Nightmare Night? It is an old holiday where ponies placate Nightmare Moon so she won’t steal ponies from their beds during the coming long nights of winter. That was the intent, at first. Now it is a night of games, costumes, treats, and tricks. A happy night, filled with laughter, smiles, and screams.”

Shaking her head, Shyara muttered, “Equestria has some weird traditions.”

“You don’t have anything simular back home?” Trixie gave a smirk, nudging Shyara in the ribs.

“Well, there is the Panathenaia. That’s my cousin’s birthday. She had races, a big feast, and in the evening there would be a sacrifice.”

Shifting uncomfortably, Trixie quickly decided she didn’t want to know what a ‘sacrifice’ entailed, having the distinct impression it wasn’t leaving food or sweets at the base of a statue. Instead she pointed to the sky as Sirius began her fiery plummet.

“Look, a shooting star.”

“A star is falling?” Shyara asked, the words flat, emotionless, and somehow sadder because of it. “Mother was always good at avoiding having her stars fall.” There was a pause as they continued to stare up at the twinkling jewels above and Trixie struggled to find anything to say. “I wish I could visit home again, just for a little while.”

Vega twisted in her vigil, her gaze shifting from a poor family in a nearby village to the more potent wish. She considered which of the two to carry, but the depths of the required energies to fulfill Shyara’s wish intrigued her. Glowing brighter than she ever had before, Vega held the wish close.

Shyara grew quiet while she waited, watching as star after star grew brighter.

Growing bright enough to light the land below, Vega repeated the wish the moment she felt Twilight lift herself into the night. A delicate moment ticked by, and then Vega felt as the wish she carried was answered, as well as those held by six of her sisters. Vega smiled as a great portion of Sirius’ cast off magic swirled around her before falling back toward Ioka, and the filly sitting on the wagon’s step.

Shyara smiled as she felt the tingle of magic surround her. Trixie’s ears pricked forward at the unfamiliar aether, her horn tingling from her proximity. Turning her head, she was startled to see Shyara fading away. Giving a shout, Trixie lunged forward, grabbing Shyara with both her hooves and her own magic, surrounding the pair in a delicate blue shell.

“Wait!” Shyara gave the warning too late, the magic of the fallen star reaching through the shield.

With a little pop, like a soap bubble, the shield vanished, and so too did Trixie and Shyara.

* * *

Half way between Ponyville and Sweet Apple Acres, Applejack sat leaning against her almost empty apple-cart.

In one hoof she held her old, weathered stetson, in the other a sheaf of official looking papers. Tears hovering at their edges, her eyes flitted back and forth between the two. It wasn’t until the sound of hooves crunching on the gravel road reached her ears that Applejack blinked, shoved the papers into her hat, and the hat onto her head.

Around a bend appeared the Hooves family; Dinky, Sparkler, and their mom, Derpy.

Tears stung Applejack’s eyes at the sight of Dinky bouncing around her sister, animatedly telling the story of her day with Apple Bloom and Scootaloo. A couple years younger than the Crusaders, Dinky didn’t often spend time with the rambunctious trio. Privately, Applejack also suspected that Derpy didn’t want Dinky playing with Apple Bloom and her friends. Not that she could blame her, with all the crazy antics the Crusaders were infamous for around town.

“Miss Applejack, you okay?” Derpy asked, her accent making her voice slow, almost languid. Many mistook the way she spoke to mean she was a little thick, but long-time residents of Ponyville knew better. Derpy Hooves simply took her time with everything she did, putting extra care into each word.

“Y-yeah, everything’s just peachy,” Applejack said.

“Mm Hm,” came the reply, Derpy turning to her older daughter and saying, “Love, could you take your sister home, I’ll be along in a bit.”

It wasn’t a request, and after a slight hesitation, Sparkler said, “Sure mom, come on Dinks. Dad should be done tinkering in his box by now.”

Hardly even pausing, Dinky gave a great cry of “Alonzy!” and took off at full speed down the road, her sister following at a canter.

When the pair had gone far enough that it was safe to assume one or the other, but most probably Dinky, wouldn’t return, Derpy sat down beside Applejack.

“Want to talk about it, hun?”

Shifting a little, Applejack muttered, “Ain’t much to talk about, sugarcube.”

“Horse-apples,” Derpy replied, “If you will pardon my Prench. I may have only one good eye, but that just means I take the time to notice things others miss.”

Applejack stared at Derpy, her mouth hanging open ever-so-slightly. Snapping it shut, she looked away. She couldn’t bring herself to look towards the other mare, not even when Derpy placed a gentle hoof on Applejack’s withers, for fear of everything spilling everything out right there in a tumble of words. Eventually the tears dried unshed, and the slight irregularity in her chest settled.

“Derpy, I been meaning to ask you,” Applejack started, her words slow, bordering on hesitant. It was absurd that she would hesitate. She just needed to pick the right words, that was all. “Why’d you decide to have another foal?”

Derpy laughed, letting her oversized wings fluttering a little as she rocked onto her hind hooves. Tilting her head a little, Derpy put a hoof to her chin, eyes squinting as she went deep into thought.

“I was ready, and so were Carrot and Turner.” Derpy finally said, pulling her face up into a brilliant smile. “Sparkler was a... surprise. The best kind, yes, but I was young and made a mistake. Things were hard for a long time, and then I met Carrot Top, Time Turner, and, eventually, Cloud Kicker.”

“Things were hard for you? Why? If you don’t mind my asking.” Applejack gulped, her face heating up as she blushed and eyes darted about the empty road.

Applejack knew the rumours that surrounded Derpy, but they’d always been that, rumours, and Applejack didn’t put much stock in the rumour mill.

“Oh, I got knocked up by some sailor or other. I think he was an officer, but I really don’t recall anymore. It was just a one night fling just before the start of The Season and I thought I’d be okay. Rather foalish, really.” Derpy laughed, her face glowing with her mirth. Then she quickly grew sober, her golden eye heavy with old, painful wounds. “When it became apparent I was with foal, my legion got—”

“Ah, excuse me, hun, but what’s a ‘legion’?” Applejack interjected, her face twitching at self-irritation.

Blinking quickly as she tried to reorder her thoughts, eyes pointed in wildly different directions with each flicker of her eyelids, Derpy said, “Oh, uh, Pegasus Houses. I forget that they’re not common in Ponyville. Almost all the pegasi here are legionless! Heh-heh.” When she noticed the confused look on Applejack’s face, Derpy quickly added, “Um, think of a legion a bit like an earth pony clan. Large extended family.”

“Ah, okay,” Applejack sighed, fitting the pieces she had learned over the years together in her head. “Wait, they didn’t kick you out, did they?”

Derpy flared her wings at the almost accusatory tone in Applejacks voice, the farmer cursing herself again for her lack of tact.

“Not exactly, but I was made very unwelcome,” Derpy shrugged as her wings settled, feathers ruffling against her coat. “Some of them hated me, I guess.”

Applejack reeled back as if she’d been kicked, sputtering, “Hated you?”

“Yeah, some of my cousins and aunts. Even one of my herd-mothers was rather upset with me, the old mule.” Derpy laughed again, the sound heavy and slow, making her wings ripple with each guffaw. “But the Marelantians... they are nothing like the Heartlands. That’s where I’m from, the Marelantians that is. The islands are part of Equestria, but are so removed that they are different. More traditional, I’ve heard. The albatross stick with the albatross, the ravens the ravens, and no pegasus ever goes with a unicorn or earth pony. But, since the Marelantians are something like ninety percent albatross pegasi, it’s not usually an issue. Ponyville though, well, we have earth ponies, unicorns, and every wing of pegasus there is to be.” Derpy declared this last bit with a smug grin.

“That diversity is what brought me here,” she continued, her words coming faster, and her heavy accent growing thicker as a result. “Felt right, proper, the best place to raise Sparkler, and later Dinky, and soon this little muffin.” Derpy patted her belly as she finished. Her face brightened. “Say, you want a muffin? I’m afraid my pregnancy has really affected my baking. All I have is mint and banana, blueberry and avocado, and dandelions and potato.”

“The dandelion and potato sounds kinda good, actually,”

Smiling, she dug the muffin out of her saddle-bags. Giving it to Applejack, Derpy said, “Yeah, you are so very pregnant, Applejack.”

Applejack was glad she hadn’t taken a bite of the muffin as she would have been choking on it. Pealing off the wrapper, she looked down the road towards Sweet Apple Acres, asking, “What makes you think I’m pregnant?”

For her part, Derpy gave Applejack the most powerful ‘are-you-joking?’ look she possessed. With a teenaged daughter, it was extremely potent, making Applejack duck her head a little lower in shame.

Applejack sighed as she stared down at the muffin, saying, “Yeah, stupid question, I know.” Taking a bite, she added, “This has no right tasting as good as it does,” crumbs leaking from her mouth. “It’s just... I’m worried.” Leaning back against her cart, looking up at the stars beginning to shimmer in the velvet tapestry above Ioka, Applejack continued, saying, “Some nights I almost wish that I weren’t pregnant. Most nights, in fact.”

For once, Derpy’s eyes both seemed to settle, her mouth pressed into a hard line. “You don’t mean that, do you?” She asked, shifting closer to Applejack and gazing up at the same stars.

Applejack rested her hooves on her belly. She was beginning to show. It wasn’t much, just a slight plumpness in the belly where none had been before, but it was enough. “I... no... not really.” Taking a long breath, Applejack added, “It’s just, I don’t exactly live a safe life. Living on a farm can be dangerous enough, but I get pulled into all sorts of crazy hijinks with the rest of the girls. I should be half way across the disc right now with Twilight, Dash, and Pinkie. We’ve had more than a few close calls over the years. What if something happens to me? I think that scares me most; leaving her alone.”

Derpy didn’t answer right away, instead twirling a hoof through the gravel on the roadside as she thought.

“I suppose your family would take care of her then, as they took care of Mac, Bloom, and you,” she finally answered.

“Yeah, well, Granny ain’t the most spry pony anymore. Mac would do good by her though. Same with Bloom, now she’s older.”

Derpy nodded and let a few minutes of silence pass between them as they watched the night grew darker. “So, those papers you hid in your hat, they are from the doctor I gather?”

Applejack let her silence speak for her.

“Heh-heh, I used to keep mine in my mail-bags when I still did the rounds. Now that I run the mail office, I keep them in the top drawer of my desk,” Derpy laughed. “So, you’re having a little filly, huh?”

“Eeyup.”

“Does the father know?”

“Nope.”

Pausing, Derpy shook her mane. “I’m sorry, it’s not my place.”

“Naw, it’s alright,” Applejack shrugged. “Everypony has been on me about if I’m pregnant or not, and who the father is and all that chicken-feed.” Pausing, Applejack looked around to make sure they were alone. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the moment she said the next few words Pinkie was going to pop out of her apple-cart, or from behind a bush, or just fall out of the sky, never mind Pinkie was thousands of miles away. “I think it’s Soarin Highfeather.”

“You think?” Derpy giggled, giving Applejack a playful nudge. “You naughty mare.”

Blushing profusely, Applejack quickly said, “It ain’t like that. We were together a few weeks before the Season started. Thought I was safe and all, but...” Applejack shrugged, then laughed. “Can’t tell a lie to save my soul usually. But with this, everypony believes me when I say I weren’t with no stallion. Probably because I mean during the season, and that’s the truth. I ain’t really lying, but it ain’t the truth either.”

There was a short pause, then Applejack whipped her head around to face Derpy, sputtering, “Wait, you ain’t shocked that Soarin is the father?”

“Oh, hun, the number of times he’s been spotted going to or from Sweet Apple Acres, or in the area?” Derpy shook her head. “You’re apple pie is good, but not that good, and he isn’t going to visit Big Mac.” A playful smirk lifted Derpy’s eyes as she poked Applejack again. “So, you been to see the doctor? I bet you have.”

Tensing her jaw, Applejack sighed, and took off her hat. She wasn’t sure why she was saying so much to Derpy. She figured it was a combination of her hormones being all over the orchard, and just the comfort of talking with an older, more experienced mare. Reaching into her hat, Applejack pulled out the papers and hoofed them over to Derpy. Squinting in the evening light, it took Derpy several minutes to decipher the words.

“This can’t be right, can it?” she eventually asked, looking up, her good eye almost begging for Applejack to say that she’d read them wrong.

“Sure as the rain will come,” Applejack said, taking the papers back and placing them safely under stetson again. “Doc did the test four times to be sure.”

“But... Huh... Wow...”

“Eeyup.”

“So... Are you going to tell the Princesses?”

Giving Derpy a sharp look, Applejack snapped, “Not sure it’s any of their business.”

“Applejack... this is big. Bigger than an Element of Harmony having a foal, which probably wouldn’t be big outside the Heartlands anyways. But this? All of Equestria is going to—”

“They ain’t going to know,” Applejack interjected, her tone as firm and unmoving as an aged oak.

Shaking her head, Derpy said, “Applejack, hun, this isn’t something you can keep quiet. Your doctor, at the very least, knows. And me, I suppose.”

Grabbing Derpy, Applejack gave her a pleading look. “You can’t tell anypony. Not a soul, Derpy. Please.”

Sighing, Derpy closed her eyes, nodding when she opened them. “Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye, I promise I won’t tell another soul your filly is an alicorn.”

Sagging in relief, Applejack said, “Thank you.”

Again, silence reigned between the pair, both losing themselves in thought. Neither could say precisely what they were thinking, their minds too taken up with the idea of the nature of Applejack’s foal-to-be.

“So, you think this is because you’re the Element of Honesty?” Derpy finally asked, pulling from her saddle-bags two more muffins. “Or do you think it is the new princess?”

“Huh? Twilight ain’t got nothing to do with foals.”

Derpy quickly shook her head, eyes spinning in counter directions. “No, not Twilight, her mom. I heard somepony saying she gave ponies foals.”

Applejack gave an uncomfortable chuckle. “Oh, yeah, her. She ain’t actually a Princess, from what I heard. She ain’t even a nice pony, really. From what I understand listening to Twi and everypony up in Canterlot, she’s something called a ‘Titan’.”

“What’s that?”

“I guess it’s what alicorns call themselves when they don’t listen to their cutie-marks or something.” Applejack shrugged, letting her disinterest speak through her shoulders and tone.

“But she’d probably know why or how your filly is a you-know-what?”

“I suppose so.”

“Then why don’t you send her a letter asking her how it could happen?” Rolling her eyes, Applejack began to protest, but Derpy pressed ahead. “You don’t have to tell her it is you, right? Be all, ‘I have a friend who is curious’, which is true. No lies there.”

Hesitantly, Applejack muttered, “I guess. But it don’t feel right. I feel sick to my stomach lying as is. This seems like a dang trick.” Pausing to take a deep breath, Applejack went back to looking up at the stars. “Besides, the how or why ain’t important. She is what she is; a... you-know-what. Has all three magics and everything, and them in spades.” A second pause before she asked, “What about yours?”

“Oh, pegasus,” Derpy gave a laugh. “After two unicorns, it’s going to be different. No magic flares, but I may wake up with her trotting across the ceiling.”

“Going to have both, and her breaking stuff with her hooves. Earth pony foals just don’t know their own strength,” Applejack chuckled as she stood and stretched, working the kinks out of her back from sitting too long. “Well, I better get home before Mac and Granny start to worry.”

Moving to hitch herself back to the wagon, Applejack was stopped as Derpy thrust a hoof up and said, “Shooting star.”

“Huh?” Applejack twisted to follow the pointing hoof, and spotting Sirius between a pair of old sycamores. “I’ll be, so it is. Bet Twi is having a fit right now. Can’t imagine it is her idea to have one come tumbling down.”

“You think the princess would be upset if we made a wish?”

Rubbing a hoof to her chin, Applejack said, “Not sure, but the stars either coming down, or it ain’t. Either way, I don’t see how a wish can hurt.”

“Well, in that case, I wish for my coming daughter to have a long, full, and interesting life.” Derpy gave a sharp nod to the star, not noticing as Pollux grew brighter.

“A good wish, I suppose,” Applejack said.

“Aren’t you going to make a wish?” Derpy asked as she stood.

“Nah, got everything I could wish for already.” Applejack tilted her hat to Derpy as they parted. “Thanks for cheering me up, means a lot to me. If you need anything in return, just give me a shout.”

* * *

The rich, heady scents of Timbucktu’s spice market filtered up into the late afternoon, coiling through vibrant gold, orange, and green awnings and up into a small apartment overlooking the distant port. A slight shuffling and the click of tumblers from the small door into the apartment announced the return of its single occupant. Pushing the door open, cursing as it struck a table, one of a few pieces of spartan furniture, the apartment’s owner entered his home.

He was a youngish griffon, his crest feathers having only just grown in, with a patch of missing fur near the base of his tail and the handle of a spoon sticking from his beak. Rolling the spoon around his tongue as he continued the stream of profanity, he slammed the door shut with a back paw and tossed a white vest over the back of a torn couch, clumps of stuffing and a couple springs jutting from its many wounds.

With only two rooms, the apartment was beyond small. The living room doubled as the bedroom, and the kitchen had a squat toilet shoved into a corner. Just having a working toilet was something of a luxury, most residents of the district making due with run down public facilities that were rank with urine and feces.

It was a small mercy that the young griffon was thankful to possess.

The only decoration in the room was a picture atop a small dresser, faded with age and tattered along one corner. In it were seven smiling faces, all young griffons in the white servants garb of the palace kitchens. Laying beside the picture was a crisp scroll.

Picking up the scroll, the young griffon went to the couch that served as his bed, and collapsing on it, he unrolled the parchment as he did every evening.

Dear Xendil,

Brother, I must make this letter quick. It is a mercy for my bravery that I have been permitted to write it at all.

You were right, we should not have heeded the griffon king’s call and gone home. The others all died in the battle, struck from the air by what can only be described as a fireball. They didn’t suffer, being near the center of the blast among the vanguard.

The survivors are calling it a blessing from the Gods, as the dead are mostly returned exiles, or Bloodrock soldiers. Fools. Stay away, little brother, this is a nation of madbirds and lunatics. Take care of Kiba, grow old, and live life to the fullest.

With love, Yinda

Returning the letter to it’s place beside the picture, Xendil made his way to a window, one looking up at the palace. Continuing his evening ritual, he closed his eyes and recited the prayer for strength taught to him by his broodmother.

“Heavens and sky, give me the courage and fortitude to carry through the days. Let my claws be swift, let my wings be sure, and let my eyes be sharp.” Xendil paused, then added a new line, “And give me the chance to—”

A knock on the door interrupted him. Scowling, Xendil crossed to the door, snarling, “What is it?”

“‘The swords of the past protect the future’.”

Shocked out of his anger, Xendil hastily opened the door. He was met by a rather pretty unicorn mare on the other side.

“Xendil Greyfeather, I presume,” she said, brushing back her tri-coloured mane before slipping into the tiny apartment.

“What are you doing here? I was told no-one would ever directly contact me,” he asked in a hushed whisper, gently closing the door.

“It couldn’t be helped, your contact was slain by the Grey Lord yesterday. We’re having to temporarily cease all activity in Zebrica. However, an opportunity is presenting itself that won’t again for years, if ever again.” The unicorn moved to a corner of the apartment, away from the windows and any possible prying eyes. “Princess Twilight Sparkle will be landing in Timbucktu within the next few weeks, a month at the most if she was becalmed.”

Xendil snapped up straight at those words, his face becoming as stone.

“Then... you are calling in my debt.”

“We are,” she confirmed, pulling out of a pocket dimension a slender package wrapped in a white cloth. As she gave it to him, the unicorn added, “If you do this we will be unable to assist you and will have to condemn your actions as those of a lone madbird.”

“I’ve known that since the beginning,” Xendil sneered, opening the cloth to reveal a griffon made dagger. Near the hilt was a Pride’s mark, scratched out so it was almost invisible, but enough remaining that under examination it would be visible. From the gold and gems set into the hilt and pommel, the dagger had to be worth a small fortune. Recovering the dagger, Xendil asked, “My remaining sister, she’ll be looked after, though?”

Looking up, he found his apartment empty except for him. He hadn’t even heard the hum of magic, and a small part wondered if the unicorn had even ever actually been in the room.

“Unicorns,” he snorted, placing the dagger into a hidden cubby beneath the dresser.

Moving to close the shutters of his window, Xendil smiled. He hated the control the Prench ponies had over him. A part of him knew that if he carried through with the implied orders there was nothing to compel them to live up to their side of the bargain he’d made all those years ago. Except that, for all the double-dealings and movements within the shadows, they’d always conducted themselves with a kind of honour.

There was little he could do regardless. His position within the palace, even as a lowly servant, meant that if his dealings with the Prench were discovered he’d find himself in the coliseum, if he were lucky. The mention of the Grey Lord was enough to make Xendil’s feathers itch. The right hoof of the Empress, the Grey Lord was renowned throughout Zebrica for his strength, loyalty to the Empress, and brutality.

At least, even if they did nothing more for Kiba, the Prench had taken the teenaged griffoness to Mareseille. She had been enrolled in a dance school, even. That had been the condition of Xendil’s assistance. It had been a sound bargain for the Prench, he knew. Not only did it cost them little gold —he cared nothing for money himself— it gave them an excellent bargaining chip to hold over him.

“The things we do for family,” he grunted, latching the first shutter. As he was closing the second, he noticed Sirius flash low across the horizon. “A shooting star, and I burdened with a grim task. I wonder if this is an omen, and if so, is it for good or ill?” Clicking his tongue, he decided it didn’t matter. “The ponies claim that to wish on a star is to invite fortune into your home. I will wish instead for the stars to bless my sister instead.”

As the second shutter was locked, Arrakis grew a minty green colour, the griffon’s wish tickling her. She’d long watched over Kiba, enjoying how the griffoness danced.

* * *

Like it had been hit by a cannonball, the door to Carousel Boutique was hurled open to the thunder of small hooves.

“I got a letter from mom!” Sweetie proclaimed as she ran first through the showroom, poked her head into the sewing room, and finding Rarity in neither, ran upstairs shouting her news again and again at the top of her lungs.

She found Rarity sitting in front of her vanity desk, eyes closed and in a meditative trance.

“Rarity! Rarity, I got a letter from mom!” Sweetie cried triumphantly as she hurled herself onto her sister’s bed, knocking Opalescence off in the process.

Hissing, the cat darted from the room.

Not looking towards the precocious filly, Rarity said, “Please, Sweetie, keep your volume to a respectable level. We are not barbarians about to besiege a city, after-all.”

“Okay, okay,” Sweetie grumbled, opening the letter as she spoke. “Want me to read the letter to you?”

“If it will keep you occupied, sure,” Rarity lifted comb as she spoke, running it slowly through her mane, counting each stroke.

Clearing her throat, Sweetie began.

To my dearest darling daughters,

I’m not sure if you got my previous letters. The packet’s have been unreliable this past while as the hostility between the Prench and Trotuguese continues to escalate. I know Captain Bartholomew Robber has been making a mess of things off the cape. The weather has been absolutely atrocious as well, with storm after storm.

We’ve been fortunate ourselves, having a near run just south of St. Agnes. Almost had a bad blow, it rolling down from the north.

“Rarity, what does that mean?”

“Mother ran afoul of the Hackney navy, Sweetie.”

“Oh, yeah...”

We slipped to the south just fine, however, and even managed to pick up some porcelain dolls from Brest.

“Dolls are...?”

“Passengers, typically political agents that can’t be seen as acting for one of the old kingdoms. Its part of how mother maintains her letter of marque.”

“Like spies?” Sweetie gushed, little hooves kicking as she gave a squeal of glee.

“Not usually. They fill a grey area between real agents and diplomats; a dirty necessity among the old kingdoms.”

“Right...” Sweetie muttered, not really understanding the nuances, but more interested in the letter than having a lecture on politics.

The ship had a sweet sail south and into the Mareterranean. Mr. Jibs is concerned about the mizzen. She’s still cracked after that storm we encountered off the Marelantians. I’m afraid I was a bit short with him, told him off more than I should have. I fear that this voyage is dragging on too long. I miss the two of you, and your father, of course, more than I can say in these letters. After we deposit these dolls, we’ll take a quick run back to the straits, maybe have words and trade mail with ol’ Robber, then we’ll head home.

Just weighed anchor in Bitraltar. Robber was there, as were Captains Smoke, Fletcher, and Whitey. We had dinner at the Merepony’s Tail and shared gossip and stories. Everypony was on edge at first, owing to the peculiarity of the stars. None of them had ever seen or heard of the like either, the way they move about. Strange times indeed are upon us, and I fear for ships and captains in unfamiliar waters. It was as we were polishing off the sixth bottle of port -Oh, you should have seen Robber’s face, his red coat had turned almost mulberry in colour! Ha-ha!- that Mr. Jibs came in, he having gone to visit the postmaster, with your letter.

Oh, I wish you’d been there to see all the captains faces when I read out that Twilight Sparkle, Element of Magic, had become the Princess of the Stars. Robber and Smoke wanted to stagger back to their ships right then and set sail for Equestria! That would have been a treat! They are wanted ponies! I told them I was on my way home, hold filled with incense, tea, and rice we picked up in Marenilla, and if they kept their hooves to themselves and away from my ship, I’d be pleased to speak to my daughter, Lady Rarity Belle, about having a word with her good friend the new Princess about kindly having the stars behave themselves again so ships will be able to navigate at night once more.

Rarity let out a small giggle, followed by, “Oh, mother, really now?” under her breath as she set her comb down.

“I don’t get it,” Sweetie frowned down at the letter.

“Robber and her served as first and second mates, respectively, under Captain Grim Beard. They are old, old friends, but Robber sails for the Grand Hackney Queendom, as do Smoke, Fletcher, and Whitey. It’d have been completely legal for them to scoot out after her and make her a prize.”

“Then why she’d tell them about her cargo?”

“Because, they are all worried about how Twilight let’s the stars dance, Sweetie.”

“Oh! I get it now! Mom made them not want to take her ship.”

“Quite so,” Rarity said as she slid off her chair and made her way to her bed, laying down beside Sweetie as her sister returned to reading the letter.

Most interesting luck! Spotted a sail to the south this morning. Would have made for the north, but then the lookout said she was flying the royal pennant. Now, if that doesn’t twig a mariner’s curiosity, nothing will. Made all sail, and in short order we were coming up on ol’ Hardy’s stern. Had the gage with us. Could have put the helm over and grabbed them by the hip! Ha-ha! Instead, we ran down close enough that we could have reached out and shaken each others hooves. As I suspected, it wasn’t Celestia, Luna, or Cadence aboard her, but Twilight. Gave her your regards, naturally. Told her I’d give my daughters a hug for her, and that they were ‘Rare and sweet things’! Ha-ha! The look on her face, that was worth adding an extra couple days to the crossing, now that we have to beat and wear our way back north to avoid the currents off the Marelantians.

Outside, darkness had fallen. Struggling to read, Sweetie asked, “Rarity, could you light a candle?” as she squinted at the loopy writing on the pages before her.

Rarity shifted, and a moment later a gentle glowing light fell across the bed.

“Thanks!” Sweetie chirped, once more plunging into the letter.

Mr. Jibs just reported the anchors set and we are comfortably moored in Baltimare’s harbour. I can see the Solar Majesty out my window, and beyond her the rest of the North Seas squadron. Seventeen ships-of-the-line, right there, and not one any the wiser of my presence. No, just a harmless Indiamare waiting to offload her cargo. I hear the bosun calling out to a barge pulling alongside.

It is your father! The rogue, never thought to see him on a ship again.

“You hear that Rarity, dad’s...” Sweetie’s eager voice trailed off as she turned to see her sister’s reaction to the letter, only to come face-to-face with a pair of brightly glowing eyes. “Rarity?”

“The other is gone, Aoide,” Not-Rarity sneered, slowly stretching like a cat.

“R-Rarity?” Sweetie repeated, edging towards the other side of the bed. “What’s going on?”

“Everything is going to be fine, Aoide,” Not-Rarity purred, hopping off the bed.

“Who is Aoide?” Sweetie asked, ears pressed flat, a tremor making her voice squeak.

“You are, of course...” Not-Rarity stopped at the base of the bed, lifting a brow above her luminescent eyes. “Unless... No... You are not my Aoide. I’d know, yes, I do know! You wear her face, but are not her... Changeling, you must be a changeling. That is what you are, yes!” Not-Rarity gave a snicker of triumph, then spun around, deep rage burning into Sweetie. “What have you done to her? What have you done to my Aoide? Answer me, Changeling, and I will make your death painless, though I can’t promise it will be swift.”

“You’re scaring me, Rarity.”

Heart catching in her throat, Sweetie tried to duck down far enough into her sister’s covers that she would disappear. It did no good as the monster that had been her sister advanced, eyes flashing red. Around the room, candles lit one after another, green flames clinging to their wicks.

“Not answering, are you?” Not-Rarity hissed, a dangerous smile lifting her lips. “Perhaps you will talk if I cut off an ear.”

Not bothering to try to suppress a scream, Sweetie darted forward, trying to reach the door. She barely made it off the bed before a sickly blue-black aura of magic gripped her, hoisting her into the air. A low growl filled the room as Sweetie was brought level with the thing that had been her sister. Not-Rarity gave a sneer, beginning to open her mouth to speak, then she faltered and dropped Sweetie.

Curling into a ball, Sweetie covered her face with her hooves, crying openly.

“Sweetie?” Not-Rarity almost whispered the filly’s name, the change in her voice from cruel and sharp as steel to soft and confused making Sweetie uncover her eyes. “You are Sweetie...” she continued, slowly backing towards the open window. “And this is not Gaea...”

Staggering against the windowsill, Not-Rarity gave a piercing shriek, her hooves tearing at her face. Laughing and crying, she threw back her head.

“Home,” Not-Rarity gave a hiccuping laugh, calling out into the night. “We wish to go home! Send us home! Please!”

Seeing her chance, Sweetie scrambled away. At the second floor landing, she looked between the stairs and her room. Not-Rarity’s manic voice filtering from her room pressed Sweetie forward. Taking the stairs two at a time, she raced into the boutique's backrooms.

“I curse you, Astraea! I curse you and your foals! Send me home, sister!” Not-Rarity’s voice echoed after Sweetie, chasing the filly into a storage cupboard filled with cloth scraps and half-finished abandoned dresses.

Shivering despite the warm summer night, Sweetie closed her eyes and prayed to Celestia that Not-Rarity wouldn’t find her.

* * *

“I don’t understand it, brother,” Zeus snorted, pacing along the edge of their cloud as his piercing blue gaze focused towards the east and the rising moon. “Why did they not come for us? Surely they know of what I’ve done. It cannot have gone unnoticed!”

Shrugging his shoulders for what felt like the thousandth time, Hades repeated what he had been saying the last few days. “Either they know and don’t care, or they are biding their time.”

“Or they want us to come to them,” Zeus declared, thumping down his hoof so hard the cloud on which they stood shattered. Wings spreading before they began to fall, Zeus gave Hades a sheepish grin, and said, “Whoops, don’t know my own strength!”

Rolling his eyes, Hades grumbled. “Ten thousand years old, and he acts like he’s two hundred.”

“I heard that!” Zeus called over his shoulder as he glided down towards a coastal cave.

As far as either brother knew, they were as far west as the continent stretched. The final spit of craggy land before having to cross the ocean. Cliffs overlooked the thunderous beat of waves, granite pillars thrusting from the water every few hundred yards. Dozens of caves covered the cliff faces where the softer limestone had been eroded by the endless beating of the rising and falling tides.

The brothers hadn’t been idle, Zeus going down among the mortal towns and villages disguised as a pegasus. At first he had simply flown into a town’s square, but found, much like back home, the townsfolk immediately ran into their homes. It didn’t take long to find out why, when Zeus came across a collection of papers with his, Hades, and Faust likenesses drawn on the cover.

Reading the paper, the Neighcelona Times, by the title in bold print, the brothers had discovered that they were to be considered extremely dangerous and that mortals were to avoid speaking to them. Hades was almost impressed that information on them had spread so far. Zeus chuckled, pointing at how in Hades’ depiction his horn had been broken off, and not just cracked.

Leaving Hades to stew among the wandering clouds, Zeus had gone down to the next town alone, and disguised. He came back with a frown on his perpetually smiling face.

“Celestia, Luna, and Cadence,” he grunted by way of greeting as he set onto the cloud. “They control a continent across the ocean.”

Hades simply shrugged at the names. They meant nothing to him.

“Their domains are the Sun, Moon, and Love, respectively,” Zeus continued, beginning the pacing that would last until he destroyed the cloud.

Zeus had gained Hades attention with that declaration.

Licking his lips, Hades said, “Makes sense. Hemera and Nyx couldn’t be responsible for this worlds day and night. And there is nothing stopping there being two alicorns of Love from existing at once.”

“It’s not proper,” Zeus thundered, pausing for a few moment in his pacing to glower at his brother. “What’s next? A second god of Storms? It isn’t done.”

Hades ignored his brother’s ranting, and instead went back to meditating. He needed to be calm in spirit and body for his horn to heal. It was the last Hades had spoken until the cloud’s destruction.

“Well, they are clearly not coming to us,” Zeus mused as they landed in front of the cave. “So I will go to them.”

Lifting a brow, Hades gave a cold chuckle. “You, alone? Yes, I can see you doing that. But, must I remind you brother, there are at least three of them, and only one of you. Two of them are Physicals as well. This won’t be like fighting an agitated Intangible. They are bound to the Sun and Moon, their power will be great.”

“Oh, you worry too much, Hades. Probably why you went grey first.”

“I formed with my silver beard,” Hades sneered, “You, as I recall, used to have a mane that shone like spun gold.”

“What, you mean like this?” Zeus concentrated for just a moment, his beard and mane going from stormy-grey to bright yellow with a hint of orange. “There we go, don’t look a century over a thousand.”

“Yes, just like that,” Hades deadpanned, turning his back to Zeus.

“Oh, don’t be like that, Hades.” Zeus said, sitting down beside his brother, returning his beard to it’s grey tones.

“Everything is a joke to you, Zeus,” Hades snapped, letting millennia of pent up anger hiss from his tongue. “Even your crown. You only cared about it because it was something I wanted. You never wanted to be King!”

“Now, see here Hades!” Zeus said, his own voice low and dangerous.

“No, I will not!” Hades eyes flashed with a dangerous light, spinning to face Zeus. “You stood idle while your children brought ruin to our world. A half dozen of our kind destroyed, more missing, the balance disrupted, mortals questioning whether we should be allowed to remain on Gaea. All under your tenure!”

“Do you not think I realise this?” Zeus bellowed, his great wings spread and mane whipping as a cold wind blasted into the cave. “I should have marched into Tartarus myself to wrench Nyx out of your grasp. But I thought to myself, ‘just leave him be, Zeus. A couple thousand years, maybe three, and he’ll realise his mistake and let her go. Nyx is a strong mare, she’ll be able to deal with him.’ My mistake has been trust. Trusting you, my children, and especially Hera. I should have known she was up to something when she suggested we have a vacation to the isle of Crete. Turn my back for a year and everything goes to ruin. Ares and that gang of his made a mess of everything. Soon as I hear from all those involved what transpired there will be a reckoning. Ares, Chranus, Niomedes, and Achlys will have much to answer for when I get home, but they’re punishment will still pale compared to what I’ve done to Hera. Conniving witch. You’re right, I’m being too passive still. It is time to remind all the worlds why I am the God of Storms!”

Spinning on his back hooves, Zeus took to the sky without another word and flew towards the west.

Throughout Zeus’ tirade, Hades had stood resolute. Now that Zeus had left, Hades sagged, letting his wings drape into the pools of salt water that dotted the cave floor.

Once more, Hades was alone. Zeus was gone. Artemis and Hecate were no more. Nyx had abandoned him. He had been rejected by both Achlys and Niomedes.

He was utterly alone.

A single tear fell from Hades’ eye, landing with a crystal chime upon the stone. He glanced at the impossible tear, but it was far from the second he’d shed in the last few years. With a simple motion of his hoof Hades swatted the offending tear into the ocean and once more cast his sight aloft. As he did he beheld a star begin to fall.

Watching the delicate flames of the descending light, Hades opened his heart.

As I sit where sea meets earth,

my heart is torn in two with memories,

like a sword cleft it in twain

spilling my sorrow as if it were blood!

The star sped up as it fell lower and lower, Hades voice mirroring the star’s descent.

I miss you so much,

so very, very much!

My Mates are gone!

My youngest daughter is dead!

I miss you all so much!

As the chorus finished, the first burst of magic echoed off the star. Spreading his wings, Hades lifted his head high, letting the song consume his entire being.

This anguish becomes an anchor,

that weighs the soul with your loss!

I wish I could see you again, look into your midnight eyes,

To say I'm sorry and hug you for the first time!

I miss you so much,

so very, very much!

My Mates are gone!

My youngest daughter is dead!

I miss you all so much!

The sword pierces deeper and deeper every day,

that I did not let you spread your wings and fly!

Dearest Daughter, I have wronged you so,

And never could I make amends for those callous wounds!

I miss you so much,

so very, very much!

My Mates are gone!

My youngest daughter is dead!

I miss you all so much!

The star drew closer and closer. Just as the star was overhead, his eyes flashed open, staring straight into the tempest above and in his heart.

Hear my plea, oh falling star,

Bring back to me my lost child!

Let me make amends,

Let me at least say good-bye!

Closing his eyes, he repeated the chorus twice more, and then let the song fade away on the ocean breeze. As the last note of his song drifted away, the star fell beyond the hills.

Hades sat, the sea gently lapping at his hooves, feeling utterly drained. He had not the strength to lift his head. More of those impossible tears flooded from his repentant eyes, creating a chiming music upon the stone. If he had, he would have seen Mintaka and a hundred of the stars glimmer a little brighter, their tears falling first among all the stars that night.

How long he sat there, Hades did not know. A few minutes or years, it would have been the same to him.

It wasn’t until a voice, gentle and hesitant, whispered through the cave that he stirred.

“Pappa?”

The word spoken so softly wrenched on Hades heart and head, swinging the latter around to face the voice’s source.

“Artemis?” he whispered, his own voice almost catching in his throat at the sight of her.

She was a pale, ghostly thing, legs and tips of her wings ending in tendrils of fog, but Artemis was unmistakable. She looked around the cave, confusion knitting her brows together as she glided forward.

“This isn’t Tartarus or Elysium. Where are we?”

“The where doesn’t matter, little nightingale. Only that you are here,” Hades said, hooves wrapping around Artemis’ smokey form. “I am so sorry. This is all my fault. If I hadn’t tried to hold onto your mother or you. If I hadn’t let fear and greed rule me. If I had acted more like a real father. Then—”

“Shh,” Artemis hushed, burying her face into her father’s mane. “It doesn’t matter now. What was done cannot be undone. Not without great cost. Our time will also be short, and I fear for Fluttershy.”

“Who?” Hades paused, then shook his head. “No, not important. Now that you are here I can save you. I can bring you back to life.”

“No, pappa, you can’t,” Artemis gave her own head a sad shake, the wispy fog of her mane drifting away in large clumps before reforming.

“I will give all that I have, all that I am! There must be some way that I can bring you back.”

Squeezing her father tighter, Artemis quieted Hades with a simple look.

“Astraea broke the rules trying to save us, and we’ve been breaking the rules since. She slew a dozen stars to create the conditions for a wish. Our bodies were left behind while our spirits were torn into tatters and dragged here, leaving parts behind. Only the fillies were spared.”

“The fillies?”

“Tyr, Shyara, and she without a name.”

“Oh, yes, them.” Hades hesitated, knowing there was something else he was supposed to say, but unsure what it was. Groping at a possibility, he asked, “they are safe, though?”

Artemis lifted an ear, and said, “Tyr is safe with the alicorns of this world. I know not what became of the others. I lost track of them. Twilight knows, I believe. It is she who has granted us this chance to speak.”

“Ah.” Hades grew silent again, the cave slick with his sullen despair. Growling, he finally stated, “There is no way to save you, is there.”

“Not without killing Fluttershy, and I refuse to murder an innocent to save myself, pappa.”

Hades began to pace, kicking at the loose stones on the ground.

“Surely there must be something... This Fluttershy, she is one of the alicorns protecting Tyr, yes?”

Artemis hesitated, and in that hesitation Hades learned all he needed to know.

“She is a mortal?” he cried, wings flaring and magic crackling and sparking along his damaged horn. “You would allow yourself to vanish for the sake of a mortal?”

Sighing, Artemis embraced her father in a hug, soothing his anger with a gentle stroke of her incorporeal hoof.

“Fluttershy is not just any mortal, pappa. She is Kindness and Mercy made flesh. I have already decided to give all I was and would have been to her. She argues and wishes to sacrifice herself for me, though she has little reason to do so. She doesn’t realise she is giving me a gift she can not comprehend, and I am stealing something from her, that when she learns what its loss means, she will despise me for taking from her.”

“What could a mortal have that you would desire, daughter?” Hades snorted, contempt rolling from him in waves.

“Her mortality.” Artemis smiled. “I will truly die and travel to Elysium. What other Alicorn can claim that prize?”

At a loss, Hades was silent and contemplative before whispering, “None. Elysium is not for our kind. But you won’t remain there forever. Eventually you’ll enter the Font and be reborn.”

“Yes, in a thousand, or ten thousand, years.” Artemis gave a gentle laugh, its musical notes melting through the sadness that clung to Hades’ heart. “My cousins Demea and Clouthea have decided to skip Elysium and go straight to rebirth. If I hadn’t been so worried for Tyr, and had I been given the opportunity, I would have done the same. Now, it is my half-sisters that worry me.” Again, Artemis shook her head. She then gave Hades a look that he had never seen before. Her eyes grew large and frightful, making him feel like he was a colt again, when the worlds were nascent and unborn. He trembled slightly beneath Artemis gaze, and knew that no matter what she said, he would obey. “Pappa, you have to save them. They are both twisted and will become Nightmares unless their present courses are stopped. Serene has done as I have and taken a mortal host, but she refuses to relinquish her hold. Every day they grow closer and closer to falling. I do not know what has become of Astraea, only that she made the attempt to steal a mortal’s shell. Promise me, pappa, promise me you will save them.”

“Of course I will!” Hades snorted, the stare breaking and his thoughts returning to a semblance of normalcy. Releasing the hug, Artemis began to drift towards the entrance of the cave, and the sky beyond, but stopped as Hades asked, “Where did you learn to do that? I have never encountered such a power before.”

“A talent of dear Fluttershy, and one of the greatest weapons this, or any, world has ever seen.” Artemis gave her musical laugh, drifting away once more.

“Please, don’t go,” Hades pleaded, making to follow, spreading his wings to fly after the specter.

“I have to, pappa. Tonight pushed things to happen earlier than expected. I won’t be gone long, and when I return, no matter who I become, I will still love you.”

Sniffing, wings falling so the tips dragged in the dirt, Hades said, “You know that will be impossible. You will forget me, and perhaps that is for the best. You deserve better than I gave you.”

At the cave’s mouth, hovering over the water gently lapping against the rocks, Artemis sighed. “I always knew you loved me, I just wished for my freedom to make my own choices, for good or ill. If you take another wife, if you have another foal, remember that lesson.” Artemis paused, turning to look over her shoulder. “Oh, those are beautiful,” she whispered, drifting higher, “I always thought the stories of the lights were a golden lie...”

Hades lifted a hoof and called Artemis’ name, but it was too late.

She was gone.

Lifting himself into the air, Hades gave a silent wail, pouring all his pain and anguish into the world. And though there was not a sound, all those who lived and breathed for miles around would claim to have heard something. Every star in the sky felt it’s gaze drawn to the cave, and watched in wonder as the last tendrils of their fallen sister’s magic was pulled to its mouth. Around him the cave trembled, the ocean stilled, and when he dropped back to the ground Hades was whole and reformed, horn unbroken, mane smooth as silk.

Looking into a mirror of water, he whispered, “And so I am remade, my dear Artemis. I will do as you ask. I will find those who led you to your demise, and I shall save not just them, but all our kind.” In a flash of magic, he called forth his bident, thrusting the weapon’s butt into the stone. “All those who seek to oppose me, let them fear my tread and name; for I am Hades, the undisputed Lord of the Dead, and I will not be denied.”

Bident at his side, Hades took to the east.

He had a filly to retrieve.

* * *

With a resounding crack, Zubu’s staff fell across the side of Gilda’s beak, sending the gryphoness skidding through the dirt. Tutting softly, Zubu limped up to her and offered her a helping hoof.

“You still have trouble with shields,” he stated, as if it wasn’t the most obvious thing at that moment. “Fast on paws, slow in thoughts. Need to be faster,” Zubu punctuated the last statement by taking another swing with his staff, the jungle echoing with another crack.

“Ow! That one hurt,” Gilda muttered, rubbing the top of her aching head.

“Wouldn’t hurt if you cast shield spell,” Zubu chuckled, shuffling to his hammock.

It had not failed to grab Gilda’s attention that over the past couple weeks Zubu had been taking more and more breaks, his breathing wet and ragged. Grunting, he tried to climb into his hammock, a stream of curses flowing from his muzzle as he struggled with the swinging net.

“Here, let me help you, master,” Gilda said, swiftly move to his side, and with a little push, boosting him up.

Harrumphing, Zubu laid his mangled leg across his chest and turned his head so he could watch Gilda train. “Too old, Zubu is too old,” he said around a hacking cough. Spitting a gob of yellow-green phlegm onto the dirt, he pointed with his good hoof to the hut. “Bring me my pipe, Gilda. Your old master needs to speak with the spirits.”

Rolling her eyes, she did as asked. Returning with his pipe, a pouch of herbs, and a pungent red potion.

“Zubu doesn’t need your vile concoctions,” he protested, scowling at bottle.

Snorting, Gilda uncorked the lid and pushed it towards his muzzle. “And you said I was getting better,” she said as she placed a claw on her breast, right above the wide scar, in false pain.

“Better be not good,” he grumbled, taking the drought nevertheless. Reaching for the pipe, he found it held just out of reach. “Apprentice, give your master his pipe! The spirits wait and the pain circles like spotted-cats.”

“No,” Gilda stated, placing the pipe on a table beside the beaded door. “Mixing Iboga with—”

“Yes, yes... Can cause the endless sleep. You are right,” Zubu grumbled. “I am cursed to have a slow, but wise, apprentice.”

“Hey! I’m not slow!” Gilda gave a playful snarl, but Zubu didn’t hear it, already having drifted off to sleep.

Seeing Zubu had fallen asleep, Gilda let her features slide into a worried scowl. Retrieving a blanket from the hut, she covered her master before returning to the cleared area. Taking up a light toned staff —willowy and supple, with a decent heft— Gilda spent several hours practicing, repeating over and over the runes, timing, swing, and energy flow of the spell. She’d been doing the same the past week, and little progress had been made. Gilda had long come to the conclusion that she wasn’t suited towards Abjuration spells and defensive magic in general.

Frustration began to build by the third hour. She couldn’t understand why she had such a hard time with the necessary runes. Every time she had to remember each one individually and how to put them together. The spell would complete, a glimmering orange disc the size of a barrel lid forming in the air, but it took too long and such a small shield would hardly protect her.

After a particularly poor performance, the shield formed about the size of a tea saucer, Gilda let out a shriek, spun, and blasted a tree stump with a torrent of flame.

“What’s wrong with me?” she snarled, tossing down the staff and going to pick up a different one —sturdy and heavy, with a dark sheen and feathers tied to the head— to start practicing all over again.

“Nothing,” Zubu chuckled. Gilda suspected he’d been watching her practice for some time, maintaining his silence and facade of sleep. “Not everyone good at all spells. Zubu used to be terrible with enchantments and potions. Too much like cooking... potions...” A long, wet chuckle shook the ancient shaman. “With practice, Zubu got good with it. Don’t let talent with destructive magic fool you. Takes years to learn magic. You’ve come far in short time. Be proud. You are indeed the Magnificent and Wise Zubu’s apprentice. Zubu chooses well, mm hm.”

“I suppose,” Gilda conceded, running the talon of a thumb along the staff. “I hate all this sitting and learning,” she said for the thousandth time since becoming Zubu’s apprentice.

“So you say each morning and evening.” Zubu rolled out of his hammock, and shuffled up to Gilda, laying his good hoof on her shoulder. “But, sooner than you need, you’ll have to decide for yourself what to do. Stay and learn, or seek vengeance. One leads to contentment, and moments of happiness, too. The other... dark is that path, Gilda, shouldn’t let it consume you.”

“It’s all I have,” she snarled. “The dream of sinking my talons into the General’s smug face.”

“Hmmm,” Zubu shook his head, but didn’t say anymore. They’d had the same conversation a dozen times. It didn’t need repeating again.

Losing herself in thoughts of vengeance, Gilda stared up through the jungle canopy at the glittering stars. She hadn’t been aware of the sun setting and the night beginning, but that wasn’t unusual.

“I wish I had a sign that all this training is worth it,” Gilda let out a long sigh, flexing her talons on her practice staff.

“Hmmm.”

“Still, if the dorks in the aerie are afraid of magic and it makes getting to Talona easier, can’t be bad.”

“Hmmm.”

“You going to sit there humming to yourself all evening?” Gilda cocked a brow.

“Hmmm?”

“Nevermind.” Gilda rolled her eyes, starting towards the hut while turning over in her mind what to make for dinner.

Leak and warthog stew sounded good, with a few sweet-roots and a dash of oregano. Zubu couldn’t have the warthog, so maybe some carrots, lentil beans, and millet dumplings to add some body.

Licking her beak in anticipation, Gilda failed to notice the low rumble overtaking the jungle. She didn’t fail to see the bead door dancing. Tilting her head, she muttered, “What on Ioka?” moments before a bright flash burst overhead followed by a trail of flames just above the treetops. Not a heartbeat later, a second flash illuminated the jungle followed by a wave of wind and a rumble that almost knocked Gilda off her paws.

“Apprentice! Go!” Zubu ordered, his staff thrust towards the direction the object had fallen.

Not needing to be told twice, Gilda burst up into the sky, skimming along the canopy. It didn’t take her long to reach the impact site. She had a moment of deja vu as she circled the location, right on the jungle’s perimeter with the plains. Small fires burnt throughout a shallow crater. Just as Gilda was about to flip over and head back into the jungle, movement caught her eye. Furrowing her brows, she took a slow pass, scanning the crater’s heart. She spotted it again. In the flickering flames all she could make out was that it was pony shaped and sized, and struggling to its hooves.

“If this is another alicorn filly...” Gilda muttered to herself as she backwind to land at the crater’s edge.

Setting down, her talons hardly making a whisper in the long grass, she went low, stalking slowly forward. Darting from cover to cover, and avoiding the dying flames, Gilda crept up on whoever it was that she had spotted. Peaking over she got a good look into the heart of the crater.

It was indeed a pony, though at least she was a full grown mare and not a filly. A pegasus as well, and not an alicorn, though Gilda couldn’t see the pony’s brow very well. She could have a stunted horn. Her mane and coat were the same almost cream-like colour, but with blues, greens, and purples glimmering whenever she moved. Pearls, her mane and coat was like pearls, Gilda decided, shifting a little to the side to get a look at her face. She almost let out a sigh when she saw that, yes, the pony was just a pegasus. No horn parted the tightly curled mane that framed a sharply angular face. Her new position also gave Gilda a chance to see the pony’s eyes; a blue so dark they were almost black in the night.

“How do they walk with four legs?” the pony groaned to herself, standing on wobbly hooves. “And wings? I have wings? Huh... Better than a horn, I suppose. Or worse, an Earth Pony. That would have been ironic. Sirius, the Firestar, Earth Pony!”

The name pricked at Gilda’s ears, making her stand up and clear her throat.

Stiffening, the pony’s wings flipped out into a threatening display Gilda knew all too well. It was far from effective. The pony gave a cry as she toppled over, unbalanced by the sudden movement.

“Oh, by Andromeda, Libra, and Gemini!” the pony cursed, struggling to right herself.

Trying not to laugh, Gilda strutted up to the pony. Offering a talon, she asked, “You alright, small-fry?”

“Small-fry? I’m Sirius!” the pony snapped, nevertheless taking the offered talon.

“Sirius, right. The star.” Gilda gave the pony a deadpan stare.

True, she admitted that the facts she possessed indicated a strong possibility that the pony was Sirius. Or, it was a very clever trick. Gilda couldn’t think why anypony would go to such lengths to trick her. That didn’t discount the idea, just made it unlikely.

“You’re Gilda, yes?” Sirius queried.

“Maybe, what’s it too you?” Gilda turned her stare into a threatening glower.

“I’m looking for her and Zubu, last of the Delphi Shamans. Though, since he is training her, she’ll technically become last of the Delphi Shamans. Well... maybe not. She’ll lack the cultural roots. I guess that would make her a Delphi trained Shaman and... I’m babbling! Huh, I’ve never babbled before. Or talked, with lips... This is fascinating...”

Lifting her forehooves, Sirius began to poke and pull at her narrow muzzle.

No, Gilda decided, this wasn’t a trick. There wasn’t a pony crazy enough to pull such a stunt.

“Lips are so fascinating. I never imagined they’d be so smushy. What an interesting word, ‘smushy’, but it perfectly fits.” Blinking her midnight blue eyes, Sirius swung her head around. “Something’s wrong. My heart feels funny. Tight. Like it is being pinched? And I want to run... away... now!”

At that she leapt forward, went two strides, then fell muzzle first into the dirt.

Rolling her eyes, Gilda picked up the groaning pony. With a single flap of her wings, Gilda carried both aloft and over the jungle. They were long gone by the time a patrol from Southstone approached and cordoned off the area.

Chapter Sixteen: Goddess of Forests

Myths and Birthrights

By Tundara

Part Two: Tremors in the East

Chapter Sixteen: Goddess of Forests

The halls of Canterlot Palace echoed with the drumbeats of Celestia’s hooves. For the second time in almost as many nights she’d been awoken early. This time it hadn’t been Luna, but a pressure striking deep into the base of her horn. She’d barely even gotten to sleep, stealing only a few minutes before having to tend to the needs of her nation.

Luna was at her side, a dour and worried expression making her normally stern features seem absolutely thunderous. Guards and servants lept out of the sisters paths, a few trembling at the concern and anger that flowed from the pair.

“I’ve allowed myself to become too long-sighted,” Celestia said to herself as much as to Luna as they approached the inner-sanctum of the palace.

“You could not have known. It isn’t like you were told what would happen a thousand years in advance, with all the time necessary to plan and set things into motion.” Despite the gravity of the situation, Luna smirked up at her sister, and to her relief, she saw the smile being reciprocated.

“I’m too used to knowing everything, it seems,” Celestia admitted as her hooves touched the thick red carpet that lead to the vaults. “Why didn’t we go straight to the Elements when Fleur’s condition became apparent? Sending her off, even if she volunteered, was foolhardy and arrogant. I’ve become as bad as mother.”

Luna was quiet for a moment, coming to a stop as she let the smirk slip back to a grimace. Celestia, sensing her sister halt, turned to look back.

“Whether foolhardy or not, you know better than to second guess yourself. It is done, Tia.”

“We should have been finished with it.” Celestia sagged a little. “When you came to me with the plan to have Fleur accompany Twilight on a goodwill tour, I should have said ‘no’, fetched the Elements, and cured Fleur.”

“It was the right decision,” Iridia’s cold voice cut into the conversation. The Queen and Princess Cadence, trotted side-by-side down the hallway. As they approached, Iridia extended a comforting wing and laid it across Celestia’s back. “Using the Elements was a coin toss. Either it’d force Fleur and Athena apart, or bind them together. We can argue from spring to winter about her going on the voyage, but as for the Elements, no, I believe we made the right choice.”

“Does little to assuage the guilt.” Celestia gave her head a little shake.

After a few steps, Cadence said, “I wonder why they would go directly to Ponyville. Surely they must know we are in Canterlot. They couldn’t know of the Elements, could they?”

“They aren’t kept a secret,” Luna pointed out as they rounded the final bend, the vault-door at the end of a corridor of stained glass windows.

“Yes, but before, it was always the Elements themselves that were attacked, not their bearers.”

“Attacking the bearers makes more sense.” Iridia quipped. “Had I been aware of the Elements, I’d have gone for the bearers directly to delay my sister’s plans and give me time to find a counter for the Elements themselves. You’ve sent some of your little toy soldiers down to the village already, yes?”

“The guard outpost in Ponyville has been alerted to the situation, yes. I am just hoping that whoever we are sensing went to Ponyville for benign reasons,” Celestia said as she unlocked the vault and retrieved one of the few boxes it contained. The words were hollow however, and she was sure the others picked up her own doubt. The prayer that had awoken her still rattled through Celestia, the image of Sweetie terrified and alone piercing her heart. It took all her considerable will not to go straight to Ponyville. “Twilight can return with Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie, if needed and...”

Celestia voice trailed off as she opened the box containing the Elements of Harmony and her worst fears were confirmed.

Four of the Elements; Loyalty, Honesty, Laughter, and Magic, were unchanged. The Elements of Kindness glowed, emitting a brilliant, but intermittent light. The heartstone of Generosity was a flat grey, a crack running through the gem. The necklace that held the Element didn’t glimmer like the others in the box, the gold seeming dull and unpolished.

“Oh no, Rarity,” Cadence gasped, covering her mouth with her hooves.

“We don’t know what—” Celestia began to speak, but was interrupted as Iridia vanished with a crack. “I wish she wouldn’t do that,” Celestia gave a frown at where her aunt had been standing. “Lulu, go after her. Make sure she doesn’t do anything foalish.”

“Like attack an Awakened alicorn in the middle of a populated area?” Luna said drolly, already weaving her own teleportation spell.

Luna was gone before Celestia could respond.

“What about me?” Cadence asked.

Taking a moment to think the situation over, Celestia said, “You should go and hold Tyr and Shining.” With the ring of drawing steel, Celestia took up her sword, the blade mirroring the molten fire in her eyes. “If this turns out to be the same alicorn that mother fought...”

The threat hung unfinished in the air as Celestia gave her sword a few deft, practice swings.

* * *

A soft, white paw striking her across the muzzle brought Fluttershy back to Equestria and out of a hazy sea of dreams. Slowly cracking her eyes open, she saw, not to her surprise, Angel Bunny sitting on her chest. The rabbit appeared more concerned than angry, which immediately rang warning bells through Fluttershy’s head.

Her thoughts were sluggish, like they were filled with cotton, as she rolled to her hooves. A groan escaped her, and she had to clamp her eyes shut for a moment as the world took a harsh spin. The room wobbled as she staggered to the bathroom, her stomach making it plain that if she didn’t reach the sink quickly she’d have a mess to clean. At the last moment she reached the porcelain rim, her two dinners forcing their way up her throat. For a full minute she retched, empting the dinners she and Artemis had eaten into the drain.

At last feeling her stomach stopped the worst of its twisting. Fluttershy looked up, and screamed as an unfamiliar pony gazed out of her mirror. Scrambling backwards, she grabbed a towel in a pink and green aura of magic, bringing the cloth up in a shield as she yelled for Angel.

Angel gave a war-cry, leaping into the room with a red bandana tying back his ears and a wooden spoon in paw.

I’m here, Yellow-One! the rabbit said, before giving another war-cry, twirling his wooden spoon, and hitting himself on the nose so he staggered back and landed with a soft ‘plump’ beside Fluttershy.

Rubbing his nose, he gave her an exasperated glare. Fluttershy just gazed down on Angel, her mouth hanging open as wide as it could manage.

“A-angel... you spoke!” she stuttered, pointing a hoof at him.

Yes... Angel quirked an eyebrow, giving her a look like she was mad.

“But I understand you!”

Uh huh... Angel switched quirked eyebrows and began to frown.

“No, I really understood you! With words, not intuition!” Fluttershy pressed, her own voice edging towards hysterical.

Sighing, Angel gave her a flat glare, hopped to the bathroom door, and looking over his shoulder, said, I’m going back downstairs until you can stop being crazy. If my bedtime snack isn’t in my bowl in ten minutes though, I’ll be upset. And don’t call unless there is a real emergency. Mares...

Fluttershy sat completely flummoxed as Angel did exactly as he promised, stopping at the stairs long enough to give her another disgruntled look before disappearing. She continued to sit there, unsure what to do until she remembered her mirror and the strange face that had greeted her. For another few minutes, Fluttershy sat peeking little glances up at the mirror. Eventually she noticed the towel hovering mid-air.

Moving as slow as a glacier, Fluttershy again got to her hooves, reached out, and gave the floating towel a poke with a hoof. The magic around the towel shone a bit, but otherwise nothing happened.

Again, the mirror caught Fluttershy’s attention, or rather, the yellow unicorn in it... with a pink mane that hid half her face... and...

“It’s me!” Fluttershy squeaked as loud as she could, rushing to the mirror and staring at her reflection. “Oh, of course it was you, it’s a mirror, silly-head. Unless... Artemis? Is that you in the mirror?”

Silence.

“Artemis?” Fluttershy flattened her ears as the voice of Artemis, a voice she’d grown used to hearing over the past week, failed to respond.

Deciding a few tests were in order, Fluttershy lifted up a hoof. Her reflection lifted the same hoof. Reaching up she ran her hoof along the hard, spiralling horn poking out of her mane. It was far longer and more slender than any unicorn horn she’d seen, and she’d seen a few during her brief period as a fashion model. Rarity tried to explain that having a long, slender horn, or ‘Celestial’ as it was more commonly called, was considered highly attractive, like have large elegant wings, or long legs and a thin frame.

It all seemed so silly to Fluttershy. Thoughts and memories could only distract her for so long, however. Far sooner than Fluttershy cared for, they were replaced with a cold realization.

“Th-this is real?” Fluttershy felt tears come to her eyes. “But... then... oh, Artemis, you silly, silly pony!”

Collapsing back against the wall, she let the tears chime upon the tile floor. Fluttershy cried, and cried staring at the evidence of the sacrifice committed for her.

“I told you we’d find a way,” she sniffed, pushing the crystalline tears around the floor and gathering them into a pile.

She remembered how careful the princesses had been with Tyr’s tears at the party, how she picked them up in a silk hoofkerchief. Looking around, Fluttershy found a facecloth that would have to do. Carefully, she hid the crystals in the cloth, then carried them into her bedroom. Depositing the bundle on her vanity, and catching another glance of her new horn in the vanity’s mirror, Fluttershy made her way out of the room.

Fluttershy stopped just before the stairs, a movement behind her catching her eye. Heart leaping up into her throat, she spun to see who or what was behind her. She found a small trail of petals; rose, lily, poppy and daisy. Curious, she edged slowly towards the nearest petal and gave it a poke. Nothing happened, except several more such petals burst from her mane.

Heart descending so it was level with her hooves, Fluttershy whispered, “You silly pony,” before turning and fleeing downstairs, a cloud of petals snapping from her tail.

Angel stood beside the kitchen door, arms folded and an impatient foot tap-tap-tapping.

Feeling better?

“No, not at all,” Fluttershy sobbed, moving to hurl herself onto her couch, but stopping when she saw it occupied by a racoon and a red fox. “Oh, um, what are you doing here?”

Oh, it’s a rather long story, the fox said, letting a chuckle curl his lips into a smile. Me and Meeko here—

’Meeko and I’ interjected the racoon.

Huh?

The proper grammar is ‘Meeko and I’. You said ‘me and Meeko’. the racoon huffed, crossing his front paws.

Does it matter? the fox rolled his eyes as he continued his good-natured laughing.

Yes, Meeko chittered, One is proper, Tod, the other is not.

“Y-you all can talk? Not just Angel?” Fluttershy slowly backed to her cottage door.

Is the Kind-One alright? chirped a little bluebird from her nest, setting off a chorus of chittering, chirping, and chattering as dozens of animals began talking all at once.

It was all too much at once, and, with a timid shriek, Fluttershy turned and bolted to the front door. Just as she was about to daintily thrust it aside, a quick rap-tap-tap from the door’s far side made her freeze, hoof hanging in the air and wings splayed.

“Miss Posey, Miss Fluttershy Posey, are you in there?” asked a voice.

Wings and hooves trembling, Fluttershy skittered away from the door.

“No!” she automatically called out, ducking down behind her couch, and between a pair of arguing mallards. “I’m not home, please come back tomorrow!”

She didn’t just...? Meeko whispered to Tod, the fox nodding in befuddled amusement while Angel slapped a paw to his face.

“Miss Posey, may we come in? It’s guards Lance and Spigot.” called a second voice, making Fluttershy tremble more. “There’s been a... uh... situation, in town. Princess Luna is requesting the presence of the Elements of Harmony.”

At ‘Princess Luna’, Fluttershy’s ear perked up. An idea bloomed, a wonderful, beautiful, stupid idea. ‘Luna would know what to do,’ it shouted, running back and forth through Fluttershy’s ragged mind. She should have thought of it before. Luna was an alicorn princess, she’d surely be able to help! If nothing else, Fluttershy could go to Rarity to ask for a hat that would hide her horn. Hat... Horn... Another idea!

“O-okay, I’ll be out in a moment, um, just wait. There. Please.”

Rising from behind her couch, Fluttershy tip-hoofed to her outdoor clothes cabinet, and pulled from it a wide brimmed red hat covered in lace, ribbons, and cloth flowers. It had been a gift from Twilight, one Fluttershy found far too showy. But by leaning her head down and tilting the hat just so, it could do a serviceable job hiding her horn. At least until Rarity could make a better hat.

Or she went into hiding. If she hid, then she wouldn’t need any hats.

The Everfree was rather nice this time of year, all in all.

She could share a den with Mr. Bear and live life as a hermit.

The thought had a certain appeal, but there were a number of problems, all with names. She couldn’t just abandon her friends and Ponyville.

So, gulping, grabbing a shawl, pair of sunglasses, and a heavy winter coat —she wasn’t sure why she wanted the coat, only that it seemed like a good idea— Fluttershy slunk out of her cottage.

The pair of guards on the other side, typical of their profession, white coats shining in the moonlight, both gave her a look of concerned amusement.

“Miss, are you alright?” the one on the left asked. He may have been Lance, or maybe Spigot, Fluttershy found it impossible to tell guards apart when they were on duty. She had met them before at Pinkie’s ‘Welcome to Ponyville’ party that’d been held when the new guard post was built, but she had spent most of the time standing in a corner before excusing herself and going home.

Keeping her head down so far the grass tickled her nose, Fluttershy mumbled, “I’m okay. Let’s, um, get going, if it’s alright with you. W-we don’t have to, I suppose...”

“Right,” the other guard said, taking off down the path at a brisk pace so his companion and Fluttershy had to scramble to keep up.

They had only gone a few yards when a massive dark form crashed down before the trio. Paws spread wide, Stan the chimera rose himself to his full height, wings spread to block the path. Draconian and lion heads roaring in their faces, the ponies mane’s whipped back as if in a gale, Fluttershy snapping out a hoof so her hat wouldn’t go flying.

“Oh, stop that, silly,” Fluttershy playfully chastised Stan, quickly stepping between the chimera and guards. It hadn’t escaped her notice how the pair had gone into a defensive stance, their eyes hardening into dangerous blue slits. Bopping Stan on the nose of his goat head, Fluttershy gave the guards a smile. “He’s really harmless. All growl and no bite.”

Lance and Spigot stared at her with open mouths. Stan’s three heads all gave a little huff of contrition, before he snapped his wings to his side and laid down, a warbling growl escaping his throats. Stan looked so sad and pitiful, his faces drooping. Even the snake head on the end of his tail looked downcast, with none of the playful snapping and hissing whenever Artemis had conversed with the beast.

Leaning forward, Fluttershy wrapped her hooves around the lionen neck in a hug.

“You’re looking for Artemis, aren’t you?” Fluttershy whispered in his ear, using the wide brim of her hat as a shield from the guards.

Stan gave a little huff and nodded his goat and draconian heads.

“S-she’s gone, Stan.” Fluttershy swallowed a lump in her throat after she spoke, rubbing her face deep into Stan’s soft fur. The draconian head lifted up a short distance, giving Fluttershy a confused look as the lion head huffed a question. “I-I’ll have to tell you about it later. These nice stallions are taking me to Princess Luna and Rarity.”

The goat head brayed as Stan shifted to clear the path. Fluttershy couldn’t shake an uneasy feeling in her gut as she released the hug and rejoined Spigot and Lance. All four of Stan’s heads gave Fluttershy a long, piteous look, as he watched Fluttershy and the guards disappear down the path.

“Was that normal?” Lance asked, watching the chimera over his withers.

“Oh, um, yes, actually.” Fluttershy’s voice grew even quieter as it struck her how normal the exchange had been. Questions about why she could understand the woodland critters, but not Stan came racing into Fluttershy’s thoughts. “Princess Luna will know what to do,” Fluttershy said to herself, repeating the same words over and over as a mantra, as the trio headed towards Ponyville.

If they had looked right then, they would have noticed the trees of the Everfree all tremble and turn, watching Fluttershy with eyeless gazes.

Silence settled over the trio, Fluttershy retreating into her tumbling thoughts, the guards into their practiced stoicism. It was in this silence that Fluttershy became aware of a pressure at the base of her new horn. It wasn’t uncomfortable, precisely, but it was ‘loud’, for lack of a better word.

The pressure continued to grow as they entered the town proper.

It was late enough that the streets should have been almost completely deserted, with only a few love-struck couples walking home from late-night rendezvous. Instead Fluttershy noted several pairs of guards moving about the town, hooves creating a tromp-thump-thump as they patrolled. From windows glowing bright with the flickering of candles watched curious citizens.

Trembling a little more, Fluttershy slunk deeper into her unseasonable coat, like a turtle retreating into its shell.

As they approached the market district the number of patrols grew, a couple falling in behind Fluttershy, and blocking any thoughts of turning around and running before such ideas could begin to properly form. Stepping into the town’s square, the pressure in her horn reached a peak, sending a dull throb down her neck.

Just ahead, Fluttershy could see Carousel Boutique. Her mouth went suddenly dry at the number of guards standing outside the building, and the reason for their presence. Iridia and Luna stood almost nose to nose, each glaring at the other so intently Fluttershy could feel the barely controlled anger coursing between the pair.

“We need to find her, and destroy her, Luna!” Iridia snarled, the cruel, cold tone in her voice sending a tremor down Fluttershy’s back that ended in her hooves and tail. “Lady Belle is gone, of that there can be no doubt!”

“Seeking to confront an alicorn, one we know nothing about, is not wise, Iridia!” Luna stamped a hoof, the square echoing with her anger.

“You and your sister are too soft. If this had happened to one of my friends, I wouldn’t hesitate to hunt down and slay those responsible.” Iridia huffed, turning slightly away from Luna.

“Violence only begets more violence.”

“Need I remind you that Generosity is lost? Your precious ‘tool’ is useless without her.”

A short distance from the arguing alicorns sat Applejack, Sweetie at her side. The filly was wrapped in blankets with Applejack holding her close. Sadness weighed down their faces, Sweetie more so than Applejack. Wondering what had happened, Fluttershy edged away from her escort and approached her friends.

“A-Applejack, Sweetie, what’s happened?” Fluttershy asked as she got close enough to whisper to the pair.

At the same time, Luna and Iridia’s ears flicked, and the two alicorns turned towards Fluttershy.

“It’s her!” Iridia shouted, jumping forward as brilliant, emerald magic sheathed her horn.

Giving a strangled cry not unlike that made by a meadowlark —though any meadowlark present would have argued it sounded more akin to that of a nervous sparrow— Fluttershy scrambled backwards as a green shield appeared around Applejack and Sweetie. In a cloud of wildly flailing hooves, irregularly beating wings, and tumbling, Fluttershy managed to lose every piece of clothing she’d donned. Laying on her back, panting with legs splayed out, she gazed up at the sky and thought, just for a moment, that it sure was a pretty night. The idle thought only had a flickering moment of existence in the time between wild panic and certain dread that clutched Fluttershy, squeezing her heart and making her hide behind her forehooves as Iridia and Luna approached.

It was Luna that spoke first, her voice holding a clear note of confusion. “Lady Posey? Congratulations, Iridia, you just traumatised the Element of Kindness.”

“How was I to know who it was beneath those atrocious clothes?” Iridia sniffed, dispelling the shield as she bent down to assist Fluttershy up. “My deep apologies...” Iridia’s voice trailed off as she stared at a spot just between and above Fluttershy’s eyes.

It took Fluttershy far too long to remember she had something there she hadn’t possessed a few hours ago.

“I can explain!” Fluttershy shouted meekly, falling into renewed cringing as she awaited the inevitable shouting, pointing of hooves, and mean glares.

Before anypony could make a comment or form a question, the most common certainly would have been, ‘why was Fluttershy an alicorn,’ a pair of guards came bolting down main street, cries of “The trees are alive! The trees are alive!” echoing from building to building.

“Calm down, both of you,” Luna snapped, her voice cracking like a whip and making the guards slide to a stop. “Are you calmed?”

They nodded frantically.

“Y’all don’t seem calm,” Applejack smirked.

Snapping crisp salutes, they took slow, meditative breaths, then in a tumble of words said, “Princess Luna, the trees are alive!”

“Yes, you said as much,” Luna sighed, a slight tick in the corner of an eye belaying her deep irritation.

Fluttershy didn’t mind the interruption or histrionics. She took the guards antics as an opportunity to roll onto her hooves and sit up. After brushing some of the dirt from her legs, she slowly inched towards, and then behind, Applejack. All the while the guards kept repeating the same four words, occasionally switching the order around, all the while gesticulating wildly towards the Everfree.

Just as Luna was about to snap, a deep, rumbling boom shook Ponyville. Followed a moment later by an odd, ominous, chittering roar.

“What was that?” Applejack asked.

A second such succession of noises answered, coming from the opposite side of town. Racing from the source of the reply, more guards converged on the town square, all claiming the same thing, that the trees were alive.

“This is nonsense,” Luna huffed, “Of course trees are alive.”

“No, alive-alive, as in walking!” one of the first guards said, having recovered enough of his wits to do more than ramble the same words over and over.

No sooner had he spoken than an ancient pine, moss and lichen hanging like curtains from twisted limbs, wandered down mainstreet. Moving in an undulating roll like the legs of a centipede, the tree’s roots carried it towards the town’s heart. A moment later a sycamore followed, with more and more trees joining every passing moment. Each step of their roots sent groaning thunder through the town.

Used to the unusual, the citizens did what they had done for the previous dozen disasters to befall the small town over the last few years; locked their doors and waited for either their roofs to go missing or the trouble to pass.

Suddenly finding the town turned into a forest, and themselves in a glade, everypony stared up at the trees.

“Oh, ‘the trees are alive’, yes, so I see,” Luna said, blinking a few times as she gazed around at the wall of wood that encircled them.

“I didn’t know there were this many treants living in Equestria,” Iridia said, her wings ever so slightly spread.

Through the gaps in the trees shapes moved. Things with glowing eyes and talons.

A frown played along Luna’s features, settling into a more neutral expression as she asked, “Fluttershy, would you mind coming here?”

Giving a little ‘eep’, and the trees shifting on their roots and moaning, the noise low and menacing, Fluttershy slowly came out from her hiding spot behind Applejack.

“Um, yes, Princess Luna?” she asked in a voice almost lost among the wind whistle through the trees.

“Do not be afraid,” Luna gave Fluttershy a smile, a rare sight that settled some of the nerves jittering through Fluttershy. “We are just curious about what has transpired this eve, that is all.”

“R-really? But Iridia, uh, I mean, Queen Iridia, she was talking about... Is Rarity okay? Where is she? If somepony hurt her...”

“Rarity went crazy!” Sweetie snapped from Applejack’s side. “Her eyes started glowing and she called me ‘A-Aoide’, and threatened to hurt me.” The last was said in little more than a sniffle, Sweetie pressing herself further into Applejack.

“‘Aoide’?” Fluttershy repeated, the blood draining from her face and her heart stopping for a beat. Around her the trees all growled and shook their leaves. Fluttershy was far from a stupid pony. Naive and inexperienced, perhaps, but not stupid. “Oh, Celestia, no,” she whispered as pieces began to fall into place.

“You know what is going on, I gather,” Luna said.

“I... Yes,” Fluttershy replied before explaining everything she knew or had learned. She started with the dreams that had began just after Tyr’s arrival, covered the odd, seemingly random thoughts she’d sometimes have, and moved cautiously onto the last week when Artemis had woken and began to speak. Almost no detail was left unsaid, only those pertaining to Rarity and Fluttershy’s suspicions left glossed over to spare Sweetie worry.

Through the lengthy, and sometimes hesitant, story everypony present remained quiet. A few times faces would betray emotions or thoughts. Iridia was the most expressive, flowing easily from incredulous to shocked before settling on a weary sadness.

“Until I met Tyr and Athena, I never even suspected that any others had survived the war with the Quus.” Iridia sighed, staring at her hooves. “To hear how even the brightest among them have fallen so low. At best, it is a civilization of Titans, at worst, there could be multitudes of Nightmares.” Shaking her head, she gave a little, sour laugh. “Makes my own past, and my present seem petty and paltry in comparison. Well, enough is enough. My Halla must be in a fright with me gone. I can’t sit idly by waiting for Twilight to finish her little journey before I return home.”

“So...” Sweetie said, shifting closer to Applejack. “My sister has one of these alicorns stuck in her head?”

Cringing, Fluttershy nodded.

“Then she’s going to be okay! Since you’re okay, then so will Rarity, right?” Sweetie eagerly looked for confirmation, but found none, only sadness in the eyes of the adults.

“Little one,” Iridia began, “We can not be certain, but from what you told us happened this eve, and Fluttershy’s description... Your sister is in grave danger. It is possible that this ‘Serene’ has already overthrown her utterly.”

At once Sweetie burst into fresh tears, Applejack holding her close as she glared up at Iridia. “Why’d you go saying that? Sweetie’s hurting enough as is.”

“That was unkind,” Luna agreed, giving Iridia a stern glance.

“Mollycoddling a child never serves any purpose. She’s old enough to know the truth, painful as it may be.” Iridia snorted and tossed her golden mane.

“Actually, it isn’t the truth,” Fluttershy said, the trees trembling above her. “Artemis wouldn’t have been able to, um, ‘take over’ for another month or so, at the earliest, even if she wanted to. Which she didn’t. Rarity will still be Rarity, but Serene will overpower her more and more. We need to find them, and help them.”

“‘We’ will be doing nothing,” Luna gave her head a shake. “With the Element of Generosity cracked, it is unusable. Even if Twilight teleported back this evening —which is impossible given how much aether she spent, tossing it about the night, answering seven wishes at once, it borders on lunacy— the elements won’t work without Generosity.” Pausing to let her words sink in, Luna continued. “No, you three will be brought to Canterlot to—”

“No,” Fluttershy interjected, her soft voice making Luna falter. “Ponyville is my home, and it is Rarity’s home. I know she’ll come back here, if she can.”

“But...” Luna began, then stopped, and gave a terse nod. “As you wish. What about you, Applejack? Sweetie?”

“Can’t leave the orchards,” Applejack laughed, pushing back her stetson. “Should be in bed as is. Staying up so late ain’t so good for me right now.”

Everypony present gave her odd looks, except Fluttershy, who smiled a secret smile.

“What about you, Sweetie Belle?” Luna turned to the filly.

She looked between Luna and Applejack, then gave a little sigh before saying, “Momma should be home in a week. I was reading a letter from her to Rarity when everything happened. Maybe... can I stay with you until then, Applejack?” Looking up, she gave Applejack her most piteous look possible.

Giving Sweetie a reassuring smile, Applejack said, “Sure you can, sugarcube. We’ll put a cot for you in Bloom’s room. Be like a sleep-over till we find and get Rarity back. And we will get her back, that’s an Apple’s promise.” Ruffling Sweetie’s mane, and trying to give a strong smile for the filly, Applejack added, “Just wish there was more I could do. You have any ideas what happened to Rarity, Princess?”

Hesitating, Luna glanced at Iridia, and said, “Twilight answered seven wishes tonight, the work-a-holic. Four of them were from the Ponyville area, one was to the north, and the remaining across the ocean. If I had to speculate, Twilight answered a wish believing it belonged to Rarity.”

“Wouldn’t she have known that it weren’t Rarity though?”

“Answering a wish isn’t like answering a letter.” Luna scuffed at the ground with one hoof. “It’s not a science, but done instinctually. She may not have been able to tell the difference. It looked like Rarity, sounded like Rarity, so it was Rarity. Sirius was also a very old, very powerful star. The most powerful star to fall during my tenure ship over Wishes had only a fraction of the power Sirius possessed. Twilight would have been drawn to answer the most powerful and pure wishes, but she would have also been drawn to wishes from ponies she recognised. The pull I felt when Almundra was stolen was almost maddening. I only answered one wish that night, and it belonged to a father who wished to be reunited with his deceased wives and fillies.”

“You brought back the dead?” Sweetie asked, while Applejack just stared open mouthed at Luna.

“Of course she didn’t,” Iridia snorted. “There are few things a wish is incapable of doing; bringing back the dead, forcing ponies to fall in love, and killing a pony.”

“Not sure I want to know how that wish was accomplished then,” Applejack wriggled where she sat.

“Oh, I bent space-time so he was sent back to the day his family died, and he passed away with them.” Luna stated this matter of factly, but the haunted look in her eyes told Fluttershy it was anything but. “The magic of the stars pre-date Ioka, and time itself. Bending it is surprisingly easy for a wish. Souls, however, wishes find problematic. And to kill is the most impure of wishes. No star could take on such a wish, should they want to even try.” Finishing the explanation, Luna gave her hooves a clap, and unfurled her wings.

“Is that what you think happened to Rarity?” Fluttershy asked, shifting a little as renewed scrutiny fell on her. “The Time-Space thing, I mean.”

“Well,” Luna clicked her tongue twice, then nodded. “It is the most probable explanation I can find. Rarity is skilled with magic, but her reserves are not enough that she could teleport far if Serene tried such a spell. This is assuming her state of mind was such that she could weave the necessary runes. No, a wish seems most probable, and that means we’re going to have to wait for Twilight to recuperate to learn what the wish was.”

“Twilight knows where my sister is, then?” The hope filling Sweetie’s question was almost enough to make Fluttershy weep.

“I do not want to give you false hope, Sweetie,” Luna said, settling down in front of the filly, “It may take Twilight time remember everything. Seven wishes at once is unprecedented, and they could be jumbled together in her head. She’s going to have to sort them all out, but I believe once she does, she’ll know what happened to Rarity. Regardless, in the meantime, we’ll have the guards and arbiters scour the land for your sister.”

“If we’re done explaining everything then,” Iridia said, her voice unnaturally chipper. “I suggest Fluttershy send the treants back to the Everfree, and the rest of us find our ways to our beds.”

Letting out a little mewl, Fluttershy cringed and glanced up at the faceless trees surrounding them. “M-me? You think I can make them leave?”

“You are a nature goddess,” Iridia smiled kindly, shifting her position to sit beside Fluttershy and lift several of the dozens of petals that had settled around the newborn alicorn.

“Um, but, can’t you make them go?”

“My Entish is rather rusty, plus, they aren’t here because of me. It’s you that brought them here, Fluttershy.”

“O-oh. I don’t know if I can.”

“Sure you can,” Applejack snorted. “If you can tell a dragon to find another place to nap, you can tell a bunch of trees to go back to the forest. Never thought I’d say that...”

“And if that isn’t enough to convince you, take a look at your mark,” Iridia added.

“My mark?” Fluttershy tilted her head, then quickly looked to her flank.

Gone were the familiar three butterflies she’d had since she was a filly.

In their place was a swarm of vibrant, pink winged butterflies of the monarch variety. They formed the image of a willow, flowing down her leg to just above her hock. Fluttershy had never seen a cutie mark that was as large and intricate.

Gazing down on her altered cutie mark, then up at the trees towering over her, Fluttershy’s brain did what it should have done an hour ago, and promptly quit functioning. Blubbering a little for a half-moment, Fluttershy, newest alicorn and goddess; fainted.

* * *

A gentle rain pattering on her face brought Trixie back to the world of the living. Eyes flitting open, she rolled onto her side with a groan. Every muscle in her body howled in protest of the movement. Snapping her eyes closed, she heeded her bodies complaints. The cool rain slowly soothed the aches, and when they had become little more than a dull roar compared to the thunderous screams of before, Trixie finally stood and re-opened her eyes.

The first thing she noted was that she wasn’t in Cantershire anymore.

Around her, for as far as she could see, were the strewn remains of some great building. Trees, shattered and split, thrust among the ruins and toppled stone. Whatever had destroyed it had been fairly recent as the forest had yet to begin to reclaim the area. Behind Trixie was the base of a cliff. Looking up its sheer face, Trixie felt her heart almost stop. There, thousands of hooves above, was the jagged body of a city-terrace. Looking around her again, Trixie realised she wasn’t standing in the ruins of a building, but the ruins of an entire city, one that had fallen from the mountain’s side.

She began to notice other things, things that were not the remains of a city, but the city’s inhabitants. Strewn as haphazardly as the stones were bodies. Ponies, griffons, minotaurs, and things Trixie didn’t recognise, but mostly ponies. Weapons and armour, battered and spoiled as the forest, were strewn among the remnants of clay pots, pictures, and furniture.

Trixie forced the bile rising in her stomach back down and staggered away from the scene.

“Trixie!”

Her name broke Trixie free of the surging panic. Turning about and focusing on the voice, Trixie spotted Shyara leaping from stone block to stone block, her under-developed wings fluttering like a hummingbirds to give her a little lift on each jump.

“There you are, Trixie,” Shyara cried breathlessly as she ran up and wrapped her hooves around the showmare.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, Trixie is here. The Wise and Courageous Trixie is here,” Trixie said, taking Shyara into a deep hug.

“Trixie, what happened? The last thing I remember is seeing a falling star and... wishing I...”

A loud groan that belonged to neither Trixie nor Shyara hushed them.

“Stay close to Trixie,” she commanded, breaking the hug and carefully making her way towards the source of the noise. As she grabbed a bent gladius, she added, “B-be ready to run and hide, just in case.”

Picking their way through the wreckage, the two quickly came across the source. Trixie lowered her weapon seeing a unicorn struggling to stand. With a coat white as snow and a mane of rich amethyst, there was something familiar about the unicorn. It took Trixie a few moments before her memory finally clicked.

“Rarity?”

The unicorn spun at the sound of her name, and promptly fell on her side with a muffled curse.

“What? Who’s there? D-don’t come closer or I’ll... I’ll...” Rarity tried to give a threatening bend to her words, but given how she could barely stand, the intent fell flat. More so after Trixie began to laugh. Narrowing her eyes at Trixie and Shyara, Rarity lifted a trembling hoof, and snarled, “You!”

“Yes, me,” Trixie gave a cocksure grin despite her own uncertainty, enjoying the sight of one of the famed Elements of Harmony struggling to stand. A small twinge of guilt did prick at her heart, enough to make her step forward after a few more moments of enjoying the sight to attempt to help Rarity.

“Stay back! You did this, didn’t you?” Rarity snapped, backing away, and falling into a puddle.

“Me? What could Trixie possibly gain with this?” Trixie gave a laugh, trying again to support Rarity.

“I... don’t know!” Rarity said, her voice on the verge of becoming a wail. After a moment, she gave a gruff snort, set her shoulders, and glowered at Trixie. “All I know is that I was home with my sister, and then I was here.”

“Well, I made a wish to get us here,” Shyara said in a sing-song voice, jumping from marble block to marble block in a circle around the arguing mares. “I guess you would have done the same.”

“And, where is ‘here’?” Rarity pressed, stepping out of the puddle.

“Um,” Shyara glanced left, right, and then up. “I’d say this is the ruins of the Citadel of Light. Probably where the remnants of the divine quarters landed.”

“The... Citadel of Light?” Rarity repeated the words as if they were poison in her mouth, her ears pressing back against her head as she skittered away, leaning up against the broken remnant of a rose quartz column. “No, this can’t be real. Those are just... it’s... No!”

“Hey, wait!” Shyara shouted, lifting a hoof towards the fleeing unicorn. “It’s dangerous to go alone! You don’t know what’s out there!” Turning to Trixie, Shyara quickly said, “Come on, we need to stop her.”

“Why? Let her run around like a frightened filly. Trixie doesn’t owe her anything. In fact, Trixie finds this highly amu—”

With a light snap, Shyara slapped Trixie. Rubbing her cheek more in shock than pain, the blow had been little more than a tap to get her attention, Trixie looked on Shyara with mingled shock and anger.

“This isn’t Equestria, Trixie.” Shyara glared back down at Trixie, and it was in that moment that Trixie realised that for all her immaturity, Shyara was old, very old. “There will be things here that will kill her as soon as look at her, and for pleasure.”

As if to punctuate Shyara’s statement, a lingering scream was carried on the breeze. It couldn’t belong to Rarity, coming from the wrong direction and being far too low and deep. Her ears folding back, Shyara jumped off her stone block and shrunk down beside Trixie.

Gulping, Trixie gave Shyara another quick glance, saw the filly’s pleading eyes, and began to follow the path Rarity had gone. They found her not far away, huddled down behind a bent roof frame.

“There’s something out there,” Rarity hissed, her sapphire eyes wide with fear. “Among the trees.”

As she spoke, aged ferns were brushed aside, and a monster, great and terrible, stepped into the clearing.

Twelve hooves high in the shoulder, the beast rumbled through the ruins, his six hooves churning up great clumps of sod. Sickly green magic hummed along ram-like horns, thrusting aside any debris in his path. The beast could have flown over the site on his leathery, black wings, but they remained tucked against his side. Wiry black-green hair fell over his withers, while his tail dragged through the mud and dirt, collecting brambles and twigs. Along his withers and flanks were large sores and scabs that oozed a putrid yellow pus, the stench reaching Trixie and almost making her gag.

Stopping, he lifted his head higher, Trixie and Rarity ducking down as he swung his glowing, orange eyes towards their hiding spot.

“Did he see us?” Rarity hissed.

“I don’t think so,” Trixie replied in an equally hushed tone. “What is that thing? Trixie has never heard of the like before.”

“It is an Onuskesia, daimon servants of Ares, God of Slaughter,” Shyara whispered. “They wander old battlefields, drawn to the misery and death that permeates the ground. This is what I was trying to warn you about.”

Rising on his back four legs so his head was lifted higher, the daimon gave a low chuffing sound like a tiger. Landing back on all six hooves, he surveyed the ruins, his gaze stopping on their hiding spot.

“I can smell you, godlings,” the daimon barked, his muzzle splitting into a grin filled with curved teeth. “And the mortal with you. You reek of fear.”

“Oh, Hemera, Nyx, and Aphrodite preserve us,” Shyara whispered, her legs trembling. “We need to run. Now!”

Not waiting for either unicorn to respond, Shyara sped from their hiding spot, weaving and ducking through the ruins. A heartbeat later, Trixie and Rarity were following. As she caught up to the filly, Trixie picked Shyara up and placed her upon her back.

“Hold tight,” Trixie commanded, lowering her head as the trio sped deeper into the shattered city.

With a lion’s roar, the daimon gave chase, his six hooves thundering across the loose sod and soil. Debris was hurtled out of his path, picked up in his lurid red magic and sent after the fleeing ponies.

With rocks bigger than themselves raining down upon them, Trixie screamed. Her heart pounded, and her coat was slick with sweat.

It didn’t take more than a few strides to realise that outrunning the daimon was impossible. He was upon them almost at once, cruel laughter nipping at their tails. A flash of white and red out of the corner of Trixie’s eye made her drive to the side. There was a dull crunch followed by a howl of pain ripping itself from Rarity’s throat. Landing hard on her flank, Trixie felt Shyara tumble from her back and into a thorny shrub.

Boasting his triumph to the heavens, the daimon ripped the shrub away and plucked up the stunned filly.

Ice filled Trixie’s veins at the sight of Shyara hovering, struggling and shouting, inches away from the daimon’s curved teeth.

Yelling at the top of her lungs, Trixie grabbed the nearest available thing and charged. Slamming into the daimon’s side, she brought her weapon down with all the magical force she could muster upon his head with a sickening crack. Bouncing off the daimon, Trixie used her years of practice to maintain her grip on her weapon. Laying on her back in the mud, she continued to smash it into the daimon’s face. Once, twice, thrice, a half-dozen, and then a full dozen times until the beast fell with a dull crash.

Struggling to her hooves and panting, Trixie looked over and saw that what she had grab was a rock, slick with gore and black ichor. Releasing the object with a little shriek, she looked over at the daimon, and immediately looked away again. Much of it’s face was missing, pushed further back into its skull.

Fighting her rising gorge, Trixie turned to find Shyara. The filly sat rubbing her head, but aside from a couple little scrapes, seemed not the worse for wear.

“I’m okay,” she mumbled as Trixie approached. “What about Rarity?”

Giving an exasperated huff, Trixie snapped, “Why do you care so much about her?”

“Because, she’s also my aunt!” Shyara shouted, letting her hooves drop to her side. “I can feel my aunt Serene inside her. I don’t know how or why, but I can! I can feel it in my horn.”

Taking a step back at the vehemence in the explanation, Trixie felt a cold curtain descend over her thoughts.

“Very well,” Trixie said tonelessly, “Trixie will find Rarity.”

It didn’t take long to find where Rarity had been flung.

The fashionista leaned against a marble block, her hind-right leg bent at an unnatural angle. Her eyes were glazed over from shock, and she hardly moved as Trixie approached.

Wincing at the sight, and having again to fight her gorge, Trixie stepped closer.

“Rarity?” She asked, genuine concern in her voice. “Are you okay?” The question was, without a doubt, the single stupidest thing Trixie had ever asked.

Head lolling to one side, Rarity gave a pained hiss, saying, “In Celestia’s name, do you think I’m okay?”

“Of course not,” Trixie snapped in return, moving around Rarity to get a look at the break.

Rarity’s leg was broken just below the hock, the bone poking the skin up, but thankfully not breaking the skin. If it had been a compound fracture, Trixie felt certain she’d have fainted, and that would have done no-pony any good.

“I’m going to have to set it,” Trixie said, the anxiety making her stomach clench and heart hammer softening her voice.

“No!” Rarity almost shrieked, “Don’t touch it! We need a doctor. A proper doctor.”

“Don’t be foalish,” Trixie responded, giving Rarity a harsh glare. “We don’t even know where any doctors are!” As she spoke, Trixie cast a numbing spell upon Rarity’s leg. “If that isn’t set then—”

“Uh, Trixie?” Shyara’s voice held a high note of fear and panic as she interrupted Trixie.

Before Trixie could ask what was the trouble, the sky turned a grim red where it could be seen through the clouds, followed by a chuckle resonating from the daimon.

Vile fluids spilling down his chest, bubbling from the ruins of his face, the daimon rose. “You are too late, heroine. My master is aware of the godlings’ presence. He comes to claim the prize stolen from him. But, before he arrives, I will suck the marrow from your bones.” The daimon took a step forward, his face beginning to reform with sickening cracks. “I will drink the bile from your organs, and leave what remains for the crows to feast upon. You have challenged a Daimon of Slaughter, and shall reap the rewards so justly deserved, little pony.”

As he spoke, the daimon reached out with his vile magic and again grabbed Shyara. Trixie and Rarity cried out as one for the filly, but it was another who silenced his wicked laughter.

“You shall do no such thing, monster!” howled a new voice, drawing all eyes to the sky.

Majestic wings spread to keep her aloft hung an alicorn, periwinkle pink coat shining with the sun at her back.

The daimon howled, his own leathery wings flashing open. From the sky shot a bolt of energy that made Trixie’s horn numb at its passing, skewering the daimon. Trixie stood transfixed, her wide eyes unable to move as the daimon took a shuddering step, then fell to either side, split from nose to dock down the middle, organs and vital fluids sloshing to the ground in a steaming, black pile that ignited in oily flames upon touching the air.

Sticking out of the pile, surrounded by the grotesque flames and covered in the slain daimon’s essence, was a towering sword. A blade, pink and white like quartz, drank in the blood and bile. Gradually, the blood vanished, and the sword become an off-white.

Trixie could not contain herself, and turning away from the rancid, burning pile, she emptied what little contents there were within her stomach.

Hooves touching the grass as gently as a drop of morning dew, the alicorn swept past Trixie, not even sparing her a glance. She went straight to the pile the daimon had become, and spat upon what was fast becoming embers before hefting the sword free.

“Take a deep breath, you three,” she said, beginning to channel magic into her long, fluted horn.

Trixie barely had time to register the words and building magic before the world went dark as pitch and colder than the deepest winter night. It felt like a small eternity before light and warmth reappeared, and she fell gasping onto her side. She had always hated teleporting, and being pulled through the aether without sufficient warning was the worst.

Deciding to take stock of their new location, Trixie found they were in a moderately sized room. A bedroom, Trixie believed, based on the bed. It was a plain bed, all things considered, as were the dressers, desk, and curtains around the small, round windows set into three of the four walls. Beside one such window stood an empty weapon rack. The alicorn deposited her greatsword within the rack before turning to face Trixie.

“Are you alright?” the alicorn asked, genuine concern in her voice as she inspected the ponies she’d rescued. “You are very brave, especially for a mortal. I’ve never witnessed any mortal attack a Slaughter Daimon in hoof on hoof combat and live, before. Even the great Lepidus and Trixelion would avoid battle with them. Their loss is a great blow to the Light.”

Rarity and Trixie had both stood absolutely speechless as their savior spoke. She was Cadence, Trixie’s mind screamed, they had been saved by the Princess of Love, and she had slain the daimon without thought or hesitation.

“P-princess Cadence?” Rarity squeaked, her thoughts having followed the same path as Trixie’s.

Face becoming stern, the alicorn shook her bouncy, multi-coloured mane. “I know not of a ‘Princess Cadence’. Surely you know who I am, yes? You know of fair Aphrodite, she who is Love herself.”

Aphrodite circled the three, her pinks eyes cold until the landed on Shyara. For her part, Shyara stood as still as a soldier at inspection, her chest puffed out and nose in the air.

Stopping, the Goddess of Love whispered, “It can not be. You were destroyed with the others... when Astraea fell to madness and cast down the stars upon the mountainside.” Aphrodite kneeled before Shyara, and leaned forward to rest her brow against the filly’s. “You can not begin to know the joy it brings my heart to know you survived. The others! Did any of the others make it? Where are they? Tyr, is she with Athena? Please, I must know if either survive!”

Clearing her throat, Rarity hesitantly said, “Um, Tyr is safe in Canterlot—”

“Where is this, Canterlot?” Aphrodite raised herself above Rarity, eyes flashing and wings spread.

“It’s the capital of Equestria—”

“Where is Equestria?”

“Ioka, Aunt Aphrodite, we were all taken to Ioka,” Shyara grinned wide. “And now I’m home!”

“Perhaps,” Aphrodite whispered, sharing none of Shyara’s joy. “But it is a home you should have stayed away from, little shadow. Still, it does my heart good to see you alive and well. Serene, I am less happy to see.” Aphrodite finished her words with a glare at Rarity that contained the fury of the ages. “What were you thinking?”

“E-excuse me?” Rarity skittered away from the goddess as much as she could on three good legs.

“Taking a mortal shell! I thought Hemera and I raised you to be smarter than that!” Aphrodite paced back and forth in front of Rarity, her anger filling the room and leaking into the world beyond. Trixie was rather glad not to be the focus of the goddess’ attention. “You would risk madness and despair, steal this innocent mortal’s very existence, risk your own, and for what? To sink your hooves into grass a century or three earlier?”

At once Rarity stopped shaking, her back straightening, and her eyes taking on a soft glow. When she spoke, it was not with her own voice. “We could not, dear Aphrodite! My sister almost destroyed us utterly. It was either this or to be a corruption, a shade neither living nor dead, tainting all I encountered.”

“Do not try to claim altruism in your choice.” Aphrodite sneered, stopping her pacing before Serene. “You were not destroyed. Given time you would have become alicorn once more.”

“I had no choice! She had not lain with a stallion recently enough, unlike the hosts of Demea and Clouthea. The same held true for precious Artemis, she was forced as I to become an abomination! Even your darling, perfect Athena has to wrestle for her host’s body.” Serene gave a little, dark laugh. “Though in her case it is because her host is barren.

“But here, back home and surrounded by my Domain.... Mmm... I can feel it everywhere again, and it gives me strength.” Serene cackled, the noise making the flesh along Trixie’s neck crawl.

“Falsehoods and lies!” Aphrodite roared, the air crackling around her. “You need not have endangered a mortal at all. Impatient, arrogant foal. Release that mortal, now!”

Magic leaking from her horn and forming a shroud, Serene ignored her aunt. She looked down upon her injured leg, and with a slight ‘tsk’, she set the bone with an audible crack.

Without thinking it over, Trixie grabbed Shyara, placing the filly behind her.

“I refuse! I will not wait idle half a millennium! I must find my Muses! I must!”

Aphrodite stood resolute, and sighed. “I see that you are already lost to madness, dear niece. I am truly sorry.” In a single, swift move, Aphrodite crossed the short distance between her and Serene, grabbing the possessed unicorn and pressing her against the wall. “I will exorcise you, like the corruption you have allowed yourself to become.”

“No!” Serene thrashed against the magic holding her. “I am so close! Once this body is mine I can find my Muses!”

“I do this act out of Love, Serene. Love for the alicorn you once were, and will never be again.”

Trixie was pushed back as magic more powerful than any she’d before encountered rushed off the goddess. Serene and Rarity screamed as one, pushed higher up the wall. Magic flowed from their eyes, and, releasing a snarl, they attempted to lash out at their captor. Aphrodite swatted aside the attack as if it were no more than a fly buzzing about her face, the magic slashing a deep wound into the stone floor.

“I refuse to stand idle while you become a Nightmare.”

Legs striking the air, Serene contorted her face into a glare of absolute rage.

“You can not remove me, Aphrodite. I am too strong!” She laughed, the cruel sound dragging across Trixie’s ears. “Every beat of this mortal’s heart brings me closer to defeating you and ascending once more.”

Serene began to push off from the wall, a wicked grin carved beneath her glowing eyes.

Aphrodite made not a move, magic continuing to flow from her horn like a pillar.

“True, I can not remove you, but there is one who can.” Aphrodite gave a terse smile of victory. “To her I give the chance to be all you once were and could have been. I give her the strength to cast you out and claim a new destiny. You have forsaken and tainted your birthright, Serene, and so to her I offer it!”

“T-Trixie?” Shyara voice was filled with fear and uncertainty.

Focused on the spectacle before her, Trixie said over her shoulder, “Don’t worry, Shyara, Trixie will protect you.”

Shyara’s reply was lost when the magic surrounding Serene emitted a wild roar as it spiralled into a tight, spinning shell. A shrill whistle filled the room, stealing all other sound as the nexus of magic tightened, and then faded. As the last shreds of magic drifted away, Rarity was revealed still floating in the air, her eyes gently shut, and a look of peace upon her brow.

Rarity’s mane and tail sparkled as if they’d been dipped into diamond dust, their curls perfect and bouncy. Upon her back were a pair of magnificent wings, while on her flanks her mark had changed, the points of her gems spun to face center. Around the diamonds was a looping line of gold that bound the three gems together. Otherwise, she was unchanged.

Turning to look behind her and check on Shyara, Trixie saw, to her horror, that she was nowhere to be seen.

“Shyara?” she hesitantly called, then louder, “Shyara!”

“She is gone,” Aphrodite said, not bothering to look towards Trixie, and instead using her magic to gently carry Rarity to the bed.

“Gone? What do you mean, ‘gone’?” Trixie snapped.

“It is a rather simple concept,” the goddess snorted. “The spell used to bring her here expired, so she has returned to whence she came; Ioka.”

“Then why am I still here?” Trixie waved her hooves frantically, panic rising in her throat.

“Did you use a Gate?”

“No... I... Not precisely... Trixie saw her daughter—” Aphrodite gave Trixie a sharp look. “—Erm, her ward, vanishing, and grabbed her.”

“I thought as much,” Aphrodite gave a gentle chuckle. “Foolish, but brave. I can respect that. Well, Trixie, heroine of Ioka, let me formally welcome you to Gaea, home of the Alicorns, misery, and despair.”

* * *

With a gentle pop and flash, Shyara appeared on the stairs of Trixie’s wagon, one hoof reaching for her guardian and Trixie’s name hanging on the end of her tongue.

“Trixie? Trixie?” she called, hopping off the step and running around the wagon, but of Trixie there was no sight. “Oh... no...” Plopping down beside a wheel, Shyara leaned back and groaned, beating herself over the head with her small hooves. “Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why was I so stupid? Mom told you not to make wishes, that they were unpredictable, but no, you just had to wish to see home again. Well, Shyara, you got to see home, what was left of it, and guess what? You lost your best friend! Idiot!”

Falling onto her back in the grass behind Cantershire’s town hall, Shyara gave a little scream, kicking her hooves in the air.

“Miss, you alright there?”

Looking over, Shyara saw she was being watched by a tan earth pony with a rake cutie mark.

“Um, yeah, just fine,” Shyara replied, putting on her most innocent smile.

“Say, you're that magician’s filly, ain’t you?” the earth pony continued, pressing his lips into a little frown. “I thought you two were taking last night’s train.”

“Train? Oh, yeah! No, we missed it because of me,” Shyara continued her smile, a plan suddenly presenting itself. “Which is why I’m upset. I got to go, mister. Mom’s waiting for me.”

A little reluctant, the earth pony gave a nod, and moving off said, “Alright, you take care, miss.”

As soon as the other pony was gone, Shyara leapt back to her hooves and darted into the wagon. Pulling down a pair of saddlebags, she gathered up everything she’d need. Bits, a spare enchanted vest, the Daring Do book Trixie had bought her in Hooverton, the writ of summons, and a map of Equestria. The final thing she took were the wagons keys. Locking up as she left, Shyara headed towards the train station.

“Okay, Shy Spell, you know cousin Tyr is in Canterlot... with Celestia... and hasn’t been blasted into dust by the sun... She’s not mad at you... Why would she be? It’s not like you brought that shadowfiend into the middle of a city on purpose? Nope. Just, go to Canterlot, tell her the truth... and everything will be right as rain in spring. And if it isn’t, then she’ll probably burn off your wings, snap off your horn, and throw you into an orphanage as an earth pony.”

Gulping, Shyara almost turned around. But the sight of the train station, and a waiting train —Shyara wasn’t sure if this good or bad luck— kept her hooves moving forward. Each step felt like she was trying to walk through a wall, her heart thumping in her ears, and sweat beading on her brow.

“You all alone, deary?” asked the elderly ticket-booth attendant.

“Yeah,” Shyara tried to give a winning smile, but with the worry clutching at her gut, it come out a bit too wobbly.

Sighing, the mare gave her head a shake. “Can’t sell you a ticket deary, not without an adult relative present. Forms also need to be signed that there will be somepony waiting for you at your destination, as well.”

Grumbling at her luck, Shyara took off her vest and slapped the writ of summons down on the counter.

“Look, lady, I really don’t have time for this. My Aunt Celestia,” Shyara heavily stressed the word ‘aunt’, “wants me in Canterlot, like, yesterday. The pony assigned to protect me has disappeared, and is probably eaten by a grundark or gribblehoff or something. If I’m not on that train, not only will my aunt be worried sick and likely come looking for the pony, or ponies, that delayed me, but whatever is following me will get here first, and you really don’t want that.”

As she spoke, Shyara leaned up on the counter, fluttering her small wings for added emphasis.

“Y-you’re a—”

“I know what I am, and that is late!” Shyara snapped, cutting off the mare’s blubbering before it could get really started. “So, ticket. Now. Pleeeeease!”

“But, thi—”

“I really don’t have time to argue,” Shyara stamped a hoof, spread her wings in what would have been a threatening display if they weren’t so small, and glowered.

“Y-yes, deary...” the mare gulped, rolling off a ticket, stamping it, and passing it through the slit while taking the bits Shyara tossed down. “Wait, you overpaid!” she added as Shyara darted towards the train, tickets in her mouth.

“I duh ahre!” Shyara responded around the ticket, making it to the coach door as the engine blew its whistle and began to chug out of the station. At the last possible moment, Shyara jumped and tumbled aboard the train.

Laying on her back, the train’s conductor staring down at her, Shyara hoped that going to Canterlot was the right decision.

* * *

A brisk knock permeated a familiar cottage situated within the Trotalonian mountains.

On one side of the door, hoof still raised in case he needed to repeat the knock, stood Hades. Only another alicorn would have been able to recognise him. To the casual observer he was nothing more than a simple off-white unicorn with a slate-grey mane and tail. His cutie mark of a tombstone was a little disturbing to some, more so for the number of funerals the small village had been forced to host over the past few days.

A procession for one such funeral approached up the lane as he waited for his knock to be answered. In the lead was a pony wearing a white robe with gold trim. She was a unicorn, as evident by the staff she carried in a gentle blue aura. Within a sun upon the staff’s head was a bell that rang with each step. Behind the priestess, Hades had seen enough to know one on sight, came a wagon carrying a closed coffin. Clutching each other, two mares in black veils trailed the wagon. They wailed and howled, tears streaming down their faces as they made their way towards the cemetery with three fillies in black dresses beside their mothers. After the family were friends and other relatives, a small crowd with heads hung low out of respect. There was someone else among the procession, someone who didn’t belong anymore.

Moving away from the cottage, Hades stepped to where the cottage path met the road, lowering his own head as if offering condolences to the grieving. Some gave him an odd look, but none spoke to him. A couple shied away on seeing his altered mark.

As the last pony passed, Hades whispered under his breath, “You should not be here.”

On the trailing edge of the procession moved a ghostly form; opaque and green, little lines of aether echoing through his form.

You can see me? The ghost hovered to Hades, a deep pleading in his dead eyes. No one else can see me... Why can’t they see me?

Hades cringed. He hated dealing with souls that refused to accept their death and attempted to linger among mortals. Far too many made the attempt, unable to let go of life.

“They can not see you because you are dead.”

Dead? No... I can’t be dead.

Not bothering to hide the weariness in his shoulders, Hades reached out to the ghost with his awareness. He didn’t have the time to go through the motions of convincing a random soul that it was no longer alive. It could take days, and the results were always the same; screaming, denial, cursing his name, followed by tears. With his eyes opened, Hades realised that it wasn’t necessary. The closure gained lasted only a few moments, and then the soul was in Elysium and surrounded by pure bliss regardless.

He had no doubt Elysium was this soul’s destination. No being bound for Tartarus ever cared about why the living couldn’t see or hear them. Such ghosts cared only for causing pain and harm to the living or defending that which they held onto; some place or object. On rare occasions it could be exacting revenge on those who killed them.

Touching the soul, Hades had his hunch confirmed. The dead stallion had led, overall, a good and worthy life. He’d even died attempting to pull a stranger from a burning home, only for both to be crushed as portions of the mountain Zeus had destroyed rained down on the village.

As noble a death as any could be, Hades felt.

The ghost shimmered for a moment as Hades touched him, going from green to gold in colour. He looked around, gazed along the road to the last of the procession as it turned a corner, and then he faded away. No tears, thanks, or recognition. The ghost simply went where he belonged.

Wondering idly if the unnamed stallion would see Artemis in Elysium, Hades turned to go back to the cottage door to knock again, and found it already open. Soir sat in the open frame, head tilted as she watched him.

“What were you doing?” she asked after a moment.

“My duty.”

“Your duty is to watch funerals?”

“In part,” Hades chuckled, thinking back to the early days of Gaea, when the world had been wild and untamed. The Gaean burial rituals had involved a lot more singing and dancing back then. Those had been good centuries as god and mortal alike were discovering their potentials. “I’ve not done so in a long, long time, though.”

“Is there something I can help you with?” Soir shifted from hoof to hoof, and glanced over her shoulder a couple times. “Momma’s still recovering, if you are looking for her.”

“I wasn’t, actually,” Hades stated as he approached. “I was looking for you.”

“Me? Why?” Soir scooted a few hoof lengths into her home, pressing her ears back against her head.

Hades hesitated. He hadn’t thought exactly what he’d tell Soir when he’d left the seaside cave. His plan had been simple; find her and unite all the alicorns. The obvious flaw of how to perform the task hadn’t been addressed. Embracing his reformation, Hades decided that honesty was the best answer.

“I intend to bring all our kind together. At least, all of our kind on Ioka.” Hades gave Soir a smile.

“‘Our kind’?” Soir turned the words over in her mouth, then gasped and shrunk back into the cottage. “You're one of the mean alicorns.”

Yelling for her mother, Soir vanished, her small hooves scrabble for purchase as she ran. Sitting at the open door, Hades let his smile slide off his muzzle. Perhaps, honesty wasn’t the best answer, after-all. Shrugging, and dismissing the transmutation that he’d used to hide his true nature, Hades stepped into the cottage and gently shut the door behind him. Following the filly’s cries, he entered a bedroom.

He stopped cold in the doorframe, his eyes looking around the rather plain accommodation. Other than the normal furniture and pictures were two of the oddest devices Hades had ever seen. They were grey boxes stacked on top of each other with rollers on the bottom to facilitate movement. The bottom two boxes were covered in nobs, dials, and blinking lights. The top boxes had indented windows, but instead of being able to see inside the box, they showed squiggly lines, the peaks and valleys timed to an incessant beeping. Out of one side of the top box were wires and cords that snaked down and covered a mare sleeping on the room’s small bed.

Not sleeping, Hades corrected as his eyes settled on Jardin.

Dead.

She was dead.

But not dead, for as he watched he saw the soulless mass before him take a slow breath.

“What foul sorcery is this?” he snapped, thrusting a hoof at the devices.

From them he could feel an assortment of enchantments. A dozen, at least, if he were to guess. He’d have been impressed with the craftswork if not for the vile use they were being put to.

“Go away!” Soir screamed, standing between the bed and Hades. “They are keeping momma alive while she gets better!”

“Alive? You think that husk alive?” Hades didn’t ask the question harshly, but with genuine confusion, his brow knitting together as he pushed past Soir and cast a spell that would identify the enchantments at work. What he discovered only hightened his confusion, and respect for the devices’ creator.

Spells designed to monitor and stimulate breathing were tied together with those that would perform similar functions for all the major organs. They would even help increase the natural healing of a body. Deep inside, a linked series of gemstones fed power to the matrixes. It was genius, and fragile. If Hades had used more than a simple passive scan he would have burnt out the delicate mesh of enchantments. But for all their ability to keep a body alive, the spells could not heal or replace a soul, and it was that that Jardin lacked.

“Amazing, Hecate would have been astounded to see such an artifact,” he said, a momentary flicker of sadness crossing his heart. “But this pony is dead. Nothing can change that fact.”

“No, she isn’t,” Soir leapt up, pushing Hades back a couple steps. “The doctor says we can’t know that for a few more days. She could still wake up!”

“This doctor is giving you false hope then.” Hades stepped around Soir and looked down on what had been Jardin with a sad eye. It seemed so peaceful. The only hints that anything could be wrong a simple bandage around it’s head, and the cords going under the bedsheets. “Her soul has already passed to Elysium.”

“You don’t know that.” Soir sniffed back a tear. “Nopony can know that.”

Letting out a little sigh, Hades sat down beside Soir and extended a wing over her. “When I introduced myself before, I only gave you my name,” Hades began, “I know these things because of what I am, and that is the God of the Dead. What is on that bed may give all the signs of life; but it is not alive.”

“Stop saying that! Don’t say that!” Soir threw off his wing and scampered away. Thrusting a hoof at the bed, she shouted, “When momma wakes up—.”

“Child,” Hades snapped, being very careful to control his anger, lest the flow of power from him destroyed the things keeping the husk alive. “Even if I travelled to Elysium I... Hmmm...” Lifting a hoof, Hades rubbed his chin as a mad idea struck him. “Travel to Elysium, well, the Gate rather. An interesting thought. The body is alive, it is just bereft of soul. I wonder... I wonder...”

“You wonder what?” Soir edged a little closer, keeping a cautious watch on Hades.

“A possibility I’ve never before considered. Souls, little one, are my ‘thing’, as it were. I can see the marks quite clearly that have been placed on yours to keep your true nature suppressed, for instance, and the older wounds that have scarred over. There is a chance, and it is only a chance, that if we retrieve her soul and return it to her body, then everything will be as you say. Your mother will awake and it will be as if this were a bad dream. I hope.”

“You hope?” Soir gulped, shuffling her hooves. “You’ve never done this before?”

“I’ve never seen a body kept alive after a soul has departed before. We will be journeying across new territory if we do what I propose.”

“But it will make momma better?”

“It could,” Hades hedged. He was more than a little amazed at himself for even considering such a plan. “It could be dangerous for us, though.”

“Us?”

“Your connection to your mother will be necessary for finding her. Love is the most powerful of emotions, and I will use it as a guide, of sorts.” Hades shifted from hoof to hoof as doubts began to surface. He was proposing Necromancy, essentially; something he had fought against for eons. Even using a soul as a compass was forbidden.

Soir considered Hades offer for a few, long minutes. She sat at her mother’s bedside, stroking the husk’s hoof. Eventually, she looked up and said, “Okay, let’s do this. What do I have to do?”

“Put your horn to mine, and I will take us to your mother.”

Hesitating for only the briefest of moments, Soir did as she was told. The moment her horn touched Hades’, he gave a gentle tug at both their souls, channeling the energy towards Jardin. There was an unpleasant lurch in his gut followed by the sensation of falling, and for a moment he wondered if he had erred and Jardin had gone to Tartarus after-all. Darkness and shadows engulfed the pair, wind whistling past their ears. Hades opened his wings, trying to slow his fall, but there was no air for them to catch.

A moment later he felt grass under his hooves, the fall stopping with a feather soft touch. Beside him stood Soir in all her alicorn glory. To his eyes she was a blazing figure of black and midnight-blue fire. Her mane crackled, and her wings drifted away like wisps of smoke. She’d have been rather imposing, if not for the fact she was still just a filly no taller than his hock.

Soir didn’t seem to notice the change that had overtaken her, though she did point up at Hades and scream. Wondering what had overcome the filly, he looked over his shoulder and beheld that he had become a skeleton.

No, not a skeleton, Hades corrected, as he could see ethereal bands of primordial energy wrapped around his form, binding him together.

“Interesting.”

“Interesting? You are a bone-pony!” Soir waved her hooves frantically, the motion alerting her to the fact that she was on fire. Which she pointed out in a shrill scream.

“Calm yourself, this place is merely heightening the physical manifestations of our domains.” Hades huffed as he turned his attention to where they had landed.

As he had hoped, the ‘gate’ was an endless field of golden grass, swaying in a pleasant breeze. It wasn’t truly Elysium, Hades knew, for they could not enter Elysium-proper. Rather, they were just outside the realm.

“What now?”

“We wait for one of Elysium’s caretakers.” Hades sat down, looking straight ahead with a fixed expression. Anticipating Soir’ next question, he added, “I suspect they are aware of our presence and are deciding what to do.”

They waited what felt like a miniature eternity. Hades knew it was only about an hour, by Ioka’s reckoning, able to sense the passing of time among the mortal world through his physical body. Like any other time Hades had extended his awareness, he could still hear, feel, and sense what was happening where his body lay.

To pass the time, Soir peppered Hades with questions. Hades had sired four offspring, but he’d never spent much time with his son and daughters. Foals were to be seen, not heard, and were to listen to their parents without question. He was therefore at a loss when Soir began a never ceasing stream of babble after approximately two seconds of silence.

“How about you tell me your story?” Hades finally asked, the first word’s he’d spoken in a half hour making Soir stop mid-prance.

“Momma told you everything already.”

“No, she told me and my brother all she knew, not everything,” Hades pointed out with a sly grin.

“Not much to say, really,” Soir grumbled, finally settling down. “I don’t remember much from before the cave and being found by momma. Just... bad dreams... darkness and pain... and a smile. Mother’s smile.”

“Jardin?”

“No... somepony else.” Soir shifted a little, uneasily looking ahead. “There are colours; white and honey-gold, the smile, and singing. I remember parts of an old song.” As the pair waited, Soir began to sing a lullaby. Most of the words had been lost to the ages, Soir humming to fill in the missing pieces. “That’s all I remember. Momma and the abbot say they are fragments of who I was, not who I am. That I can’t let myself worry and be ruled by something that happened in antiquity.”

“Wise words,” Hades chortled. “I wish I had followed them myself.”

The pair settled into a silence. They were brought out of their thoughts when two tiny lights a little bigger than a star popped into existence a few yards away.

“Hades, Namyra, why are you here?” The lights asked together, not moving from where they appeared.

“Ooo, what are they?” Soir jumped towards the closer light, sticking out her tongue, and going low to the ground like a stalking cat.

“They are Archons,” Hades said as he stood. To the lights, he said, “We are here to speak to the soul of Jardin Soir, recently of Ioka. She would have arrived within the last three days, as mortals reckon time.”

“We know of whom you seek, Hades,” the left Archon said.

The right adding, “We will not permit you to speak to or see her.”

“Why not? She is my mom!” Soir leaped forth, trying to pounce on one of the Archons, only to fall through it and land in the grass with a little flomp.

“She was, true.”

“But she has entered Elysium. The dead only leave when they rejoin the Font.”

“I can take her back to Ioka, return her to the life she had,” Hades stated, tapping a hoof for emphasis.

“Impossible.”

“The dead can not be returned without the Font.”

“It is unnatural.”

“An abomination against the Order.”

“Only the Quus would dare such an atrocity.”

Shaking his head, Hades pressed forward, driven by the look of sorrow weighing little Soir down in the grass. “It would be, if her body was dead. Jardin’s shell still lives and breaths, though not for much longer. All it is missing is her soul.”

“You seek to perform Necromancy.”

“Odd, as since the first grain of time fell you have sought out and destroyed such practitioners.”

“This is not Necromancy, this is correcting a wrong. Jardin was not meant to die that night. You know this. Zeus and I interfered in Ioka’s Weave. All I wish is to offer to return what I unjustly took from her.”

The Archons were silent for a long time. Crying, Soir slunk through the grass back to Hades’ side. For a second eternity Hades and Soir had to wait.

At last the Archons again spoke.

“It has been decided that the only one who can know if Jardin’s time was at an end or not will have the final say.”

“No,” Hades stamped a hoof, the golden fields turning fallow beneath his anger. “Jardin will decide for herself. I will not force this upon her. Too long have I, and the other alicorns, played with mortals as if they were puppets, discarding them when we lost our interest.”

“Then we must deny you,” the Archons said as one before they faded back into Elysium.

“Wait!” Soir cried, trying again to catch one of the Archons. “Give me back my mother!”

Hades patiently sat as Soir raged and spat curses. Around them the fields darkened and withered away, the light only beginning to return when Soir collapsed down beside Hades, her energy spent.

“Feeling better?”

“No,” she snapped, tears glistening on her cheeks. “It’s not fair. You said you’d bring her back! You promised me, you promised!”

“I did no such thing!” Hades returned her anger with a low fury of his own. “I told you I would try, nothing more.”

“Make them come back! You’re the God of the Dead, aren’t you? Make them give me back my mother.”

“I can not.”

“No, you just don’t want to.” Soir spat on the ground between Hades’ hooves. “It’s your fault momma is gone.”

“Indeed, I bear much of the blame for her loss,” Hades softened his voice, extending a bony wing to draw Soir against his chest. She struggled and protested a little, but was still brought into the hug. Laying his chin upon her head, Hades said, “I, too, have lost much of my family, little one. I know it hurts now, but you can’t let it consume you, or you’ll become as I did; bitter, broken, and alone.”

“It hurts,” she whined, ceasing her struggles. “Like somepony has stabbed me in the heart, it hurts.”

“Yes, it does. Over time it will fade though, until only the happy memories remain.”

Returning them to the mortal realm, Hades continued to hold Soir close. When they awoke, he moved swiftly to disconnect the devices that had been sustaining Jardin. Soir wailed the entire time. She didn’t quit until she collapsed against her mother’s cooling body, exhausted.

From the cottage Hades took a few things. Inside a small set of filly saddlebags he placed a couple pictures of Soir and Jardin, along with a winter cloak and a loaf of bread for her to eat. Using a spell designed by tomb robbers, Hades identified everything in the cottage of value, and moved them outside along with Jardin’s body.

“What are you doing?” Soir asked as they stepped out onto the grass, a meagre number of belonging tucked neatly to one side.

“Giving her a resting place as befits her station,” was the cryptic response.

Hades stood before the small cottage, Soir in his shadow, and reached out with his magic. From the countryside, out of fields and villages, he picked up the remnants of the mountain. Pulling them towards him, Hades shaped granite into even blocks. Gold that had remained hidden with the mountains heart spiraled above their heads, coiling and banding around marble fashioned into shining white pillars.

With a single thrust, he collapsed the cottage, the material pressed down until it vanished into the earth. Atop the site where the cottage had been, he began to lay the foundations for a greater building. As unmoving as the mausoleum he was constructing, Hades built a monument to Jardin Soir. Flowers were carved throughout, spinning and dancing as they curled along the supporting pillars. Sheltered beneath their leaves were smaller buds. Vibrant paint was applied to the facade, making it glow like a living garden in the sunlight. Four entrances lead into the inner sanctum, and it was in here he moved Jardin’s possessions, placing the objects upon enchanted pedestals that would preserve them. Above the entrances he placed an icon of the sun similar to the one held by the village priestess.

The roof was left open above her tomb, enchantments weaved through the walls. Never would rain touch the mausoleum floor and no cloud would sully the sky above, a finger of light, either sun or moon, always illuminating the sacred grounds.

Finally he crafted the tomb itself. In contrast to the rest of the edifice, it was a single, plain slab, rough and left natural. Hollowing out a space for Jardin, Hades placed her inside wrapped in a silk shroud. Onto the lid her carved her name in her native language and that of the ancient aethyir, followed by a simple epitaphe that proclaimed, ‘Protector. Hero. Saint. Mother.’

Struck by an idea, Hades pulled four last blocks to the site, placing them as menhirs before the entrances. Onto each of their sides he laid a last enchantment, one that would both ensure the site was protected from desecration, and that would tell the tale of the valley. The Dreamer’s Stones, they would become known as, with pilgrims traveling across the world to visit.

His task completed, he looked down at Soir. “Come,” he whispered, “we have to catch up to my brother so no more fillies have to lose their mothers.”

Placing Soir upon his back, Hades began the hunt for Zeus, and the other alicorns.

End of Part Two: Tremors in the East

Interlude Two: To Date a Goddess

Myths and Birthrights

By Tundara

Interlude Two: To Date a Goddess

Fluttershy sat in front of her vanity, heart beating like a war-drum. The mare staring out of the polished glass had a haunted cast to her features. A look that bespoke of a desire to fling herself across the room and hide beneath her bed sheets.

Shifting a little, Fluttershy took a peek at her cutie mark.

The three butterflies that had comforted her since she was a gangly filly had been replaced by thirty-seven smaller, yet more detailed, butterflies. If she stared long enough, Fluttershy swore that she could see them moving.

The swarm of butterflies on her flank echoed in her stomach and after a moment she had to look away. Nopony was sure what her special talent now entailed. No, Fluttershy corrected with a shake of her head.

Her Domain.

Luna had confirmed that Fluttershy was a true alicorn, not a ‘pegacorn’. Not that pegacorns were anything more than storybook myths.

She was a Physical, embodying some tangible aspect of the disc.

Artemis had been the Goddess of the Wilds, connected to any wild and untamed place, and the monsters and beasts that made such lands their home. From the great forests to the mountain peaks and scorching deserts, Artemis had embodied anywhere untouched by civilization. Artemis had explained that she had protected the mortals of her world from places that instilled fear into their hearts. She took that fear into herself, lending her strength to those that prayed for her protection from her beasts.

Fluttershy was certain that she had nothing to do with deserts and mountains. Well, maybe a little to do with mountains, she corrected.

She could feel an uneasy curiosity mixed with old anger and suffering coming from the Everfree, and the roots of the Equestrian mountains the forest covered.

Like the essential piece of a jigsaw puzzle, it all clicked into place.

Forests! She was Forests!

She was the Goddess of Forests.

There was no giddiness or relief at the realization, just a heavy weariness. Fluttershy had promised to help Artemis. Instead Artemis had sacrificed herself to protect her. Reaching out, Fluttershy picked up her comb and began to brush her mane, sweeping the pink locks forwards and around her horn. As Fluttershy went through the slow motions, Luna and Iridia stepped into the room.

Fluttershy could feel the pair now. Well, she’d been feeling them since she’d awoken; both physically that morning and divinely the previous evening. Luna was like the moon to which she was bound, a soft, cooling light that banished the darkness. Iridia was different... like an April breeze rushing down from the Canterhorn; both chill and warm with a refreshing after sensation that made Fluttershy’s pinions tingle.

Iridia frowned at how Fluttershy held her brush, giving a disapproving click of her tongue. “That’s what we forgot, Lulu.”

“Forgot? Um, forgot what, exactly?” Fluttershy shifted a little to watch the pair through the mirror, her wings fluffing a little at Iridia’s gentle laugh.

“Basic magic. Levitation, that sort of thing.” Seeing Fluttershy’s confusion written plain across her brow, Iridia clarified. “We’ve been discussing everything you’ll have to be taught.”

“Oh,” was all Fluttershy said, concentrating on making her mane look as nice as she could.

She had to look her best. Not just for herself, or impressing Big Macintosh, but for Rarity.

A small pang of guilt mingled with sadness punctured Fluttershy for a beat of her now immortal heart. Rarity should be with her, helping her prepare. The two had discussed for years what they would do on their ‘perfect’ first dates.

Rarity’s naturally involved a high class dinner, followed by a Manehatten play or perhaps orchestral performance. Sometimes there would be a romantic stroll through the park, other times sitting upon a patio overlooking a glass smooth ocean and the stars twinkling above.

Fluttershy had almost always let Rarity lead the conversation, keeping her ideal date, and date candidate, to herself. She wondered how Rarity would react to learning that Fluttershy had been pining after Mac for years.

“Fluttershy!”

The sharp bite put into her name snapped Fluttershy out of her thoughts. Ears pressed flat, she turned to see Luna and Iridia watching her with concerned eyes. Striding forward, Luna took Fluttershy’s head in her hooves, turning her this way and that while gazing into her eyes.

“I-Is everything okay?” Fluttershy stammered, worried by the concern the princess carried.

“You were lost in thought, again. You’re not losing yourself, are you?”

Fluttershy gently pushed Luna’s hooves away, setting the brush down at the same time. “W-What do you mean?”

“Forgetting who you are and becoming one with the voice, or voices. ” Luna clarified.

“I’m not hearing any voices... well, other than the birds.” Two blue jays had been arguing for the past hour just outside Fluttershy’s open window, but she’d been pointedly ignoring the pair. She’d managed to forget they were even present. “I did figure out what I am, though,” Fluttershy said before relating the thoughts and realizations she’d had just before Luna and Iridia joined her.

“Forests... It would explain the treants,” Iridia hummed to herself, tapping a hoof to her chin. “So, shall we begin then! You have a lot to learn, and the sooner the better. We don’t want a repeat of the Sol Incident.”

“The... what?” Fluttershy tilted her head a little, while Luna shot her aunt a sharp look.

“Tia made us promise never to mention that to anypony, ever, Iridia.”

“Nonsense! It’s a good story!” Iridia protested as she brought up some cushions from the living room and settled down. “The Sol Incident happened the first or second time little Tia went to set the sun. Now, there are two things you need to know about Tia when she was younger. The first is that she was nothing like she is now. Headstrong, proud, with a confidence bordering on arrogance. She wasn’t a bad pony, but it was hard to really like her, at the time.”

“That is partly your fault,” Luna snorted. “You spent twenty years filling our heads with how special and important we were.”

“Yes, yes, and she was Faust’s ‘Most Brilliant Student’,” Iridia gave her hoof an airy wave. “Reasons aren’t as important for the story Lulu. Fact of the matter is we were all wrong in some way back then. I... I was overly clingy. Faust was intent on her grand games. Tia was the perfect little noble. And you... You were probably the best of us, spending the most time with...” Iridia cleared her throat and shifted uncomfortably.

Fluttershy could sense a small wave of profound sadness wash over the queen. It was gone quick as it came, Iridia thrusting herself into the tale.

“Anyways, the second thing is that Tia wanted Faust’s adoration and praise more than anything. Faust had more time for Tia than Lulu, but was a lot sterner and extremely enigmatic. When Tia Awakened, she wanted to impress Faust. For years Tia had been the head of the Cabal of the Sun, leading the hoof picked unicorns that raised and lowered Sol each day. Well, that first or second night, doesn’t really matter which now, she ordered the rest of the Cabal to wait while she moved the sun, alone.

“Only trouble was Tia hadn’t fully adjusted to her new power yet. Also, Sol was very happy to listen to Tia. When she told the sun to come down, it came down. Straight down. Hitting the disc and bouncing a couple times before coming to a rest at the bottom of the Peycific Ocean.”

“Oh no!” Fluttershy covered her mouth with her hooves as she gasped. “Was the sun okay?”

“Sol was fine. Took several hours to fish her out of the ocean though.” Iridia giggled at the old memories, her eyes growing soft, losing the hard edge they usually carried. “The point of the story is that adjusting to being an alicorn isn’t quick, and you have to be careful. Take things slowly. It could take you and the others years to fully understand your—.”

“‘Others’?” Fluttershy interjected, her ears perking forward.

Iridia looked a little flustered as she said, “Well, yes. I have faith that Twilight will save Lady de Lis, and that Rarity will conquer this ‘Serene’.” Iridia used hoof quotations. “I’ve seen a lot of things, and I believe in my sister. She is exceptionally good at choosing champions for the Elements of Harmony. All you mares are powerful in your own rights, and Rarity perhaps has the most hidden potential. Yes, even more so than you, my dear.”

Fluttershy didn’t know how to feel about the praise. Iridia certainly didn’t lack for confidence. But, her, powerful? If asked ‘use one word to describe yourself’ before meeting Artemis, Fluttershy would have used ‘weak’. ‘Timid’, ‘useless’, and ‘kind’ would have contended for runners-up. Yes, she had The Stare, but that hardly made her powerful.

Now, however, Fluttershy couldn’t deny Iridia’s assessment. She felt so much stronger than before, well, physically that is. Fluttershy’s heart still beat like the drum of a race pony’s hooves when she thought about interacting with other ponies. Especially her date with Mac.

Her date!

She’d almost forgotten about it.

Glancing at a clock she saw that they’d only been talking for a few minutes. There was still plenty of time to get ready and meet Mac.

Pressing a hoof to her chest to settle her breaths, Fluttershy gave Luna and Iridia her most sincere smile.

“I hope you’re right,” Fluttershy said as she got down from her stool.

“Well, my record isn’t the best, I’ll admit, but mostly that’s been from underestimating my sister and her Elements of Harmony. Thuëlya is as powerful now as it was four thousand years ago.”

“What is that?”

“It is my sister, and my sister is it.” Iridia tapped her hoof a few times, her face contorting a little as she struggled to find a way to describe it. Luna just looked on with a bemused grin. “Thuëlya can be be described as ‘Friendship is Magic, and Magic is Life’. To the ancient Thuëlesians Friendship, Magic, Life and Harmony were the same things. You’ve read the Book of Names, right?”

Blushing a little, Fluttershy admitted she’d only read a few bits and pieces when she was little.

“Nevermind. The Thuëlesians lived in what is now... I’m not sure what it is now, actually...”

“The area is controlled by the Azure Legion of the Great Pegasus Horde, Iridia,” Luna supplied.

“Really? They are still around? And so far west? They truly are the exception, aren’t they...” Shaking her head, Iridia gave a little laugh. “As I was saying, however, Faust is the Namegiver now, but back then she was called the Il-Shia, and while that now means Great Leader, to the Thuëlesians it meant ‘She who Shepherds’. They didn’t take names until discovering their cutie marks.”

“I’m a little confused what this has to do with, well, anything.” Fluttershy admitted, quickly adding, “It’s nice to hear about ancient history, I’m just a little lost.”

“What I am trying to say, Fluttershy, is that once upon a time, Faust wasn’t the Namegiver or ‘Fate’, such a silly idea. I tried to get that out of her head, but she really got stuck on that one. Ahem, no, what I was trying to get at is that while I am now the Goddess of ‘Life’, which, strictly speaking I am not, when were were younger, Faust held that title. Well, Goddess of Thuëlya, but it was the same thing at the time. You’re exceptionally fortunate to be a Physical. It’s hard for a forest to not be anything other than what it is. Intangible concepts suffer more on the whims and perceptions of society. I’m a bit more fortunate in that I am Birth and The Spring, and thus more grounded. My poor sister, she changes almost with the seasons. But, while we may have trouble describing her Domain from century to century, it doesn’t make it any less potent.

“My sister is a power to be reckoned with, Fluttershy. It was she who chose you and the other four core Elements of Harmony. You are without a doubt the most powerful ponies in character, magic, and strength of your generation. If you weren’t, she’d have manipulated the strands that bind all ponies together to make certain that the stronger pony got the right Element.” Iridia gave her head a definitive nod. “Rarity will succeed in conquering the shade of Serene.”

Fluttershy gave a soft smile of her own, one bolstered when Luna concurred with Iridia. It settled one of the many knots of anxiety clenching deep in Fluttershy’s breast. As soon as Twilight woke up they’d learn where Rarity had gone, and then they could go retrieve her. Fluttershy almost glowed at the warmth the image of her and her friends all together again brought her.

“For now, however, we need to teach you about your new abilities,” Luna said, taking the lead from Iridia. “The first, and most important, will be learning how to stretch out your essence and bring it back to your physical form.”

“Oh, um, that will have to wait; I have a date,” Fluttershy said, still smiling, her thoughts now turning to the impending evening with Macintosh. The smile didn’t last long when she remembered she hadn’t prepared anything. Yesterday she’d been hoping that Artemis would have an idea or two, though in retrospect that had been a rather niave idea. She’d known even less than Fluttershy about dating.

“A date?” Luna and Iridia asked at the same time, sharing surprised looks.

“Well, yes... Except I have no idea what to do for a first, or any date!”

“Truly?” Luna looked more shocked, while Iridia simply rolled her eyes. Quickly recovering, Luna gave a slight frown. “While a... date, is important, not—.”

“Tosh!” Iridia snapped. “This is very important! There will be enough time for lessons on magic and the nature of being an alicorn later.” Jumping up from her cushion with an almost predatory gleam in her eye, Iridia approached Fluttershy. “Sit back down, my dear, and let’s get to work.”

Fluttershy’s eyes widened as Iridia pushed her back in front of the vanity. A green aura of magic grabbed brushes, tweezers, combs, perfume bottles, and even threw open Fluttershy’s closet and began pulling out an assortment of dresses.

“Now, among my Halla, the first date is traditionally conducted by the stags when he finds a hind he wishes to add to his harem. Mind you, there is a lot of ritual combat involved. I don’t think you’ll have to duel anypony. I’ve not been keeping abreast of how ponies go about things, truthfully. You still herd, yes? Mares approach the stallion? Do you offer him a flower? No? Hmmm... When did that change?”

Fluttershy answered as best she could, her voice coming in frightened squeaks as Iridia took up her mane and began to apply the brushes and perfumes, adding a bit of blush and powder to her coat.

“You are lucky. We physicals and nature goddess have an almost effortless beauty. The petals that fall from your mane certainly help. Hmmm, green, yes, green goes best with your colours.” Iridia mused before beginning to wind and tie ribbons into Fluttershy’s mane, braiding the long locks together. “What tribe is your date?”

“Oh, um, he’s an earth pony,” Fluttershy mumbled, yelping as Iridia gave her mane a sharp tug.

“An earth pony, that’s appropriate. No, Lulu, the dark green dress, white is purity and red for fertility, put those other ones back. I know my colours at least.”

Using the mirror to see what Luna had been doing, Fluttershy saw the princess had been holding up a few dresses, presumably testing to see which Fluttershy would look best wearing. Her thoughts were confirmed when Luna pouted and hung the dresses back up, saying, “I was just curious. It is not often I get to help in this manner.”

Iridia gave a ‘harumph’, continuing on her work.

“So, have you decided how to go about courting this fine young buck?” Iridia gave Fluttershy a playful nudge as she shifted her attention to the new alicorn’s tail. “Shouldn’t be difficult.”

“W-What do you mean?”

Fluttershy couldn’t imagine it being anything other than stressful and difficult. There were so many little nuances and things that could go wrong. A thousand different ‘What If’s’ circled through her thoughts, from gaffs in conversation to taking Mac to the wrong place.

“Why, you’re a Goddess!” Iridia said as if it was the most obvious thing. “You could have a dozen stallions to yourself. Sun and Moon above, I’ve done so on several occasions.”

“Y-You have?” Fluttershy couldn’t even comprehend such a scenario.

“Oh yes. Mares too. Love and companionship knows no bounds!”

“Iridia, I don’t think either of us need to know about your... conquests,” Luna snapped, pulling her head back out of the closet.

“Oh, if you want to hear about conquests... no, another time.”

“But, I don’t want a dozen stallions!” Fluttershy protested. “Especially not because...” She finished the thought by pointing at her horn.

Iridia sobered quickly, her eyes taking a sad cast. Even Luna looked a little saddened.

“Lady Posey,” Luna began, Fluttershy wincing at the use of her title and the heavy seriousness in the princess’ tone, “It is as unavoidable as the passage of time. There will be many ponies who seek you out as a trophy. Another thing to consider is that you will outlive any consort you take.”

Fluttershy stiffened as the words struck her. She hadn’t considered that she would outlive Mac, and not by a few years, but by forever. It now dawned on her that other than the princesses, every pony Fluttershy knew would die and become dust while she would remain. Just before the worry and melancholy could really grip Fluttershy however, Iridia spoke up.

“Oh, don’t let that get to you. It just means you have more opportunities to find new friends and loves. And the way the mortals are reborn means you even have the chance of finding past loves in new lives. Why, I’ve encountered my first love no less than six times. Right now he’s a half blind zebra. If I didn’t think he’d either laugh in my face or have a heart attack if I approached him, I’d go visit him right now. Oh well, always next life.”

“You mean, Mac will come back?”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Luna shook her mane and gave Iridia a disapproving glare. “Iridia is the Goddess of the Spring, which entails rebirth. It’s easy to find past loves when you are the one guiding them to new lives.”

“Oh, please, all I need to do is put a simple mark on this Mac’s soul and I’ll know whenever he’s coming back. I’ve done the same a couple times for my sister. Might do so again soon.” Iridia gave an evil grin. “Oh, coincidently, our family might be growing again soon. I have that feeling in my hooves.”

Snapping her mouth shut, as it had begun to hang open, Luna continued her glare. “You’ve certainly grown bolder today.”

“What can I say? Fluttershy brought me out of my funk. That is what youngsters call it now, yes?” Iridia gave Fluttershy a little nudge, before adding in a bright voice, “There, done. I tried to re-create the Thuelesian maiden style, they really loved their ribbons. Seemed appropriate somehow.”

Fluttershy nodded mutely, too off-put by the little squabble between Iridia and Luna. A daze settled around her as she looked herself over. Her mane and tail seemed even more voluminous, the former draped down her right side. Green bands criss-crossed her pink hair, and seemed to make her eyes brighter. A bed of petals had settled around her chair while Iridia had worked. Carefully, Fluttershy brushed them aside as she, again, stepped away from her stool.

“Thank you,” Fluttershy said, a grin taking to her face. “It looks lovely.”

Donning a fairly simple green summer-dress, Fluttershy was almost skipping on the spot.

She couldn’t believe that after years of watching and waiting and dreaming she would finally be going on a date.

Fluttershy was about the thank Iridia and Luna again for their help and patience, when the door to her room was violently thrust open to reveal a fuming Angel.

‘Where’s. My. Lunch!” He bellowed at the top of his lungs, his little voice coming out as a grating screach. “I’ve been waiting and calling for you for almost ten whole minutes.” He added as his left foot began to thump-thump-thump and arms crossed.

“Oh, I’m sorry Angel, I didn’t hear you,” Fluttershy cooed. She turned to trot towards the kitchen, but was stopped by Iridia.

Stepping in front of Fluttershy, Iridia gave Angel a look that could cut through mountains; one he returned in equal force.

“Listen here you little rodent, if you don’t want to spend you next life as a termite, I would recommend a correction to your attitude. Do I —Ow!”

Iridia reeled back clutching her nose, of which Angel had just bitten before scampering down the stairs and out into the garden.

Eyes wide with shock, she turned to Luna and Fluttershy, exclaiming, “The little monster bit me!”

“I can’t say I blame him,” Luna smirked, while Fluttershy covered her mouth in shock and said, “Oh, he’s never done that before! Angel’s always been more of a kicker. Maybe I should...”

Fluttershy trailed off as Luna held up a hoof.

“Iridia and I will deal with Angel, you need to get going if you are going to make it in time to your date.”

“I know, but I feel so bad about not hearing Angel. He gets so put out if he doesn’t eat on time.”

Luna, moving to usher Fluttershy down the stairs and out of the cottage, said, “Nonsense. Besides, it is my fault you didn’t hear him. I put a silencing charm on the room so we wouldn’t be disturbed.”

“I-If you insist. Well, maybe I should just—.”

“Go, Fluttershy,” Luna insisted, almost tossing Fluttershy out the door with her magic before closing the door with a resounding snap.

Standing in front of her own door, ears pressed back, Fluttershy whispered to herself, “But, I didn’t get anything ready...”

Chewing on her lip, Fluttershy stood there for several tense minutes, glancing between the door and the path to town. She didn’t know what to do. There was no plans, no nothing. She didn’t even have any bits on her. Eventually, the pressure to see Mac and not disturb the princess and queen won out, and Fluttershy slowly made her way into town.

Maybe she could ask for some store credit. It wasn’t as if she was poor, what with the stipends her and the other girls had received upon being made Ladies of the Court. Added to her wages as Ponyville’s animal warden, and she had far more than she needed. Surely somepony would be willing to let her have a little, tinsy credit for just the day if she explained things nicely and carefully.

It took Fluttershy until the time she reached the shops to finally settle on the plan. She really disliked the idea, but it was marginally better than confronting Luna and Iridia, or failing to meet Mac.

As she meandered through town, trying to come up with something to get for Mac —she was evenly divided between chocolates and flowers— Fluttershy failed to notice all the ponies staring in her direction. More than a few shared whispered words, pointing as they did so. A couple stallions, Caramel and Snowflake, both stopped what they were doing to stare slack-jawed.

Slowly, Fluttershy stepped up to Bon-Bon’s Confectionary. Compared to Sugarcube Corner, Bon-Bon’s shop was small, cramped as it was between Quills and Sofas and Ponyville’s smithy. This lent the confectionary a smell something between sweetened iron and musty chocolate. Not good for in-store business. For this reason, and Bon-Bon’s own eccentricities, most of her orders were supplied via delivery.

The run-up to the Season was the busiest time of the year for the candy maker. That was a few months ago, and now the storefront was more often grey and quiet. In a few months it would be Nightmare Night, and time to make all the sweets and candies needed for the annual ‘sacrifice’ to Princess Luna.

Fluttershy giggled at the rapid transformation Nightmare Night had taken since Luna’s return. The bright smiles of the foals as they appeased ‘Nightmare Moon’ was rivaled only by Luna’s own smile. Even Fluttershy had started to take part in Nightmare Night the previous year.

She wondered if she’d be able to this year.

Fluttershy made a small mental note about asking Luna and Iridia about holidays and ‘special days’, and if they had any meaning or significance to alicorns. The Summer Sun Solstice was said to be Celestia birthday, for instance. Which it couldn’t be... unless Celestia hadn’t been born during the Celebration of Life like other foals. It was possible.

Why would she, or Luna —Luna’s birthday supposedly being Nightmare Night— have to have been born like everypony else?

Or, maybe those were the days they—

“Um, Fluttershy, you okay?”

With a little ‘eep’, Fluttershy leapt a few metres into the air, her wings poofing out to carry her gently back to the street to land in front of Lyra. The town’s harpist covered her mouth with a hoof, rapidly saying, “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to frighten you. It’s just... you’ve been staring at Bonie’s shop for the past half-hour... and... You’ve got a horn!”

“Uh, yes, I do.” Fluttershy scoffed a hoof and looked away.

Lyra’s face contorted between shock, curiosity, and joy before returning to a more neutral expression.

“I’m guessing you’d rather not talk about ‘it’,” Lyra stated as she stepped past Fluttershy and up to the shop’s door. Pulling a key from her saddle-bags and sliding it into the lock, Lyra continued to speak. “And I’m also guessing you’re here to see Bon-Bon, what with the way you’re dressed.” Lyra glanced over her shoulder to see Fluttershy’s confirming nod. “She’s out east for a family affair. Won’t be back until Thursday, at the earliest.”

“Oh no,” Fluttershy gasped, her wings extending as Lyra beckoned her into the small shop.

Like most homes in Equestria, the bottom floor was a store or work-area, while the upper floor was a home. The front room of Bon-Bon and Lyra’s home had a small desk-slash-countertop, a few display cases for candies, and a door leading to the large kitchen and stairs. With a flick of magic, Lyra ignited a couple candles and pulled the curtains over the windows open, letting in a shower of golden light.

“So, what were you after?”

“I had hoped to, um, get some chocolates.” Fluttershy scanned the display cases, but what she saw didn’t give her much hope.

“Chocolate, huh? You have a da-ate?” Lyra giggled and gave her brows a little wiggle.

The blush that burned across Fluttershy’s face screamed the truth more than the timid little squeak her voice made.

Taken aback, Lyra’s golden eyes shot wide.

“Really?” A wide grin split Lyra’s face as she began to move from counter to counter, looking in all the display cases. “This is great! I mean, with that dress, it was obvious, but, I mean, it’s you, Fluttershy! Who is the lucky stallion? I bet it’s Thunderlane. No, Snowflake! I bet you like your—”

Abruptly, Lyra clamped her mouth shut. She gave Fluttershy a little, apologetic smile.

“Sorry, my mouth runs ahead of my head when I get excited.” Lyra hardly paused before she was again talking at a mile a minute. “So, who are you seeing?”

“Oh, um, Macintosh Apple.”

“Big Mac!?” Lyra froze mid inspection of some half-stale chocolate glazed strawberries. Her mouth hung open, then it curved up into the widest grin imaginable. Fluttershy would have sworn that Lyra and Pinkie had to be related, the smile was so big. “Ha! Always wondered who it would be that’d catch him.”

Lyra’s abundance of energy pressed down on Fluttershy. Slowly, she shrunk back towards the door.

Maybe Mac would be okay with just some flowers, or something, Fluttershy thought to herself. Candies had been a silly idea anyways. Decided, Fluttershy excused herself, three times, but Lyra seemed oblivious as she darted about the small shop.

“There isn’t much fresh chocolate, the fillies tend to buy that up quick, but there are some... No, that’s no good. Neither is that. Nor those. Sour Drops are definitely out. Maybe the... Fluttershy?” Lyra halted in the middle of the store, wildly glancing about, only to see she was alone. “Oh, you are so lucky Bonny wasn’t here to see you chase another pony away, Lyra,” she tsked to herself, while simultaneously reaching for a broom. A moment later she was sweeping the store, whistling a merry tune, waiting for the next customer.

Having escaped the mad-mare, Fluttershy trotted towards the market. As before, a few ponies stopped to stare at her and the petals that danced out of her mane and tail. Tucking her tail a little lower, along with her head, Fluttershy made her way straight to Roseluck’s stand. She had the nicest, tastiest roses in town everypony agreed.

“Afternoon, Fluttershy,” Roseluck said around a slight, tremorous smile, her eyes never shifting off the space just above and between Fluttershy’s eyes. “By Celestia, so the rumours are true... your...” Roseluck gulped. “H-How can I help you, your majesty?”

“Oh, no, I’m not...” Fluttershy stopped mid-explanation, deciding it would take too long, and she was already so late. “I’d like some roses, if that’s okay with you.”

Roseluck nodded vigorously, “Oh, yes, what kind of roses would you like? I have Floribunda, Hybrid Tea, Climber, and Miniature varieties.”

“Ah, Hybrid Tea sounds lovely.”

Falling into the role of vending, the traces of Roseluck’s anxiety melted away. Pointing to several different groups of flowers, she asked, “do you want Memorial Day, Elle, or Love n’ Peace?”

“The Love n’ Peace, please.”

“Okay, that’ll be three bits.”

“Oh, Princess Luna kind of kicked me out of the cottage before I could get any bits. Could you maybe give me a credit?”

Roseluck’s expression became a stern mask. Without saying anything, the florist pointed to a sign tucked between the Albertine and the Emmie Grey that had three small words printed in simple lettering that read, ‘No Store Credit’.

“I’m sorry, Fluttershy, but rules are rules.” A hint of sadness crept into Roseluck’s voice as she spoke.

“N-No, I understand, but, can’t you make just a teensy exception?”

“I...” Roseluck’s eyes darted left and right, taking in the dozens of ponies staring at her and Fluttershy. With a defeated sigh, Roseluck folded some paper around the roses stems and pushed them towards Fluttershy. “I’ll make an exception for you, Fluttershy, this once.”

Thanking Roseluck profusely while she tucked the roses underneath a wing, Fluttershy promised to bring the bits first thing tomorrow.

Gift attained, Fluttershy hurried down the road towards Sweet Apple Acres. It was close to dinner by the time she crested the final rise and saw the Apple family homestead. Pausing in front of the small gate, Fluttershy found her belly swarming with butterflies. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself the remaining steps to the door.

The tension in her stomach was joined by a knot in her throat as Fluttershy lifted a hoof and gave two taps on the door so light there wasn’t even the hint of an echo in the house. At once the door was yanked open to reveal a madly grinning Sweetie Belle. The smile died the instant the filly recognised Fluttershy.

Without a word to Fluttershy, Sweetie turned and trotted away, her tail dragging across the floor and ears drooping.

“Howdy Fluttershy!” Applejack called from the living room, inviting Fluttershy into the home and to close the door behind her. The farmer gave a low whistle when she got a good look at her friend. “Landsakes, ‘Shy, you look amazing. Don’t she granny?”

“What’s that? Milkshakes are demonstrating?” The old mare looked up from her knitting, rocking her chair and squinting ancient eyes at Fluttershy.

“No, granny, it’s Fluttershy. She is here to go on a date with Mac.”

“Oh, yeah. Boy’s been going on about that all day.” Granny Smith gave a gummy smile, waving Fluttershy. “Come here, I ain’t going to bite you.”

“G-Good evening, Mrs. Smith,” Fluttershy gave the matriarch a timid smile as she stepped over to the older mare. “Is Macintosh ready?”

“He’s up in his room gussying his self up,” Granny Smith snorted and gestured for Fluttershy to sit beside her. Leaning over in her chair, she gave Fluttershy a stern glare as she said, “You be careful with my grandson, understand? His back is strong, but his heart’s still torn. I’m trusting you, Fluttershy. I may be almost a hundred years old, but I can still take you across my knee if you hurt him.”

“Granny! That’s enough,” Applejack snapped, a hint of a scowl on her face. “Stop scaring her.”

Fluttershy trembled a little, scooting away from the flame burning deep in Granny Smith’s eyes.

“I was just doing my duty. Didn’t get to put the fear of Celestia into that stallion that went and—.”

“I said, ‘that’s enough’,” Applejack’s scowl deepened.

The two Apples glowered at each other while Fluttershy scooted towards the walls. Her wings pressed against her sides while her ears laid flat along her head. Staying as quiet as possible, and as small as possible, she sat and waited in the space between the kitchen and outside doors.

After a few moments of sharing the glare with Applejack, Granny Smith tossed her head back and let out a short cackle.

“You’ll do good, Jackie, you’ll do good when I’m in the fields.” Granny Smith nodded once, then went back to her knitting. She began to hum an old tune to herself, a faint smile on her wrinkled muzzle.

A few moments later Mac came down the steps and into the living room. His yoke was gone, and he wore just a simple dark vest with a matching stetson. The left breast pocket had the slight bulge of a watch. Mac’s red coat had been brushed to a shine. His eyes widened as they settled on Fluttershy, and she would almost swear that his face grew redder.

“H-Hello, Macintosh,” Fluttershy gave a wide smile as Mac approached. “I brought you these,” she added, revealing the twin roses.

Mac looked at a loss for words, before giving his head a slight incline and saying, “Thank you kindly, Miss Posey.”

After finding a vase for the roses, Fluttershy and Mac stepped out onto the porch.

“Where we headed?” Mac asked, sending a chill up Fluttershy’s spine.

“W-well, I...” Fluttershy paused, noticing at the top of the steps to the porch sat a basket the same green as her dress. Cautiously she stepped up to the basket, noticing a little slip of paper tied about the handle. A few words were written in flowing script, saying, ‘Have a pleasant and wonderful eve. -L.’ Peeking inside the basket, she saw it had a couple baked plum duff, mini-quiches, a bottle of wine with the symbol of the moon, and glasses.

Gently closing the basket, Fluttershy asked, “know a good hill nearby we can watch the moon? If that’s okay? We can—.”

Mac gave a low chuckle, and said, “Follow me. I know just the place.”

He set off at a gentle trot, keeping a quick pace, but not one where Fluttershy would have to hurry to keep up. They made their way through the orchards, Mac leading. From the trees Fluttershy felt a small wave of hazy interest. The feeling was both similar and yet nothing like what she felt from the nearby Everfree.

As they moved through the orchard’s heart, Fluttershy slowed a little, her gaze pulled to the side, and to an old, dying tree. Sensing Mac slow and look over his back to her, Fluttershy wrenched her eyes away from the tree.

“Where are we going?” Fluttershy asked as apple trees made way to a low grassy hill nestled in a nook where the orchards met Whitetail Woods.

“Almost there now,” Mac responded with a slow chuckle. At the top of the rise he came to a stop, setting down the basket. “Here were are, Miss Posey.”

Fluttershy gave a little squeak at the sight that greeted her. To her right was Whitetail, the forest herself seeming to straighten as it noticed Fluttershy’s presence, like a filly whose parent walked into her room. Unlike the ancient Everfree, Whitetail was young and playful. A happy, golden place. To the left Fluttershy could see the Everfree River as it wound from forest towards the Ponyville reservoir. Ponyville herself was somewhere behind, the thatched roofs and chimneys peeking out just beyond the orchards. Ahead was nothing but untouched, rolling green hills. Here and there a tree poked out of the green fields.

“It’s so pretty,” Fluttershy breathed, her wings spreading slightly along with a little smile.

“Eyup,” Mac agreed, though he didn’t look upon the scenery.

They sat that way for some time, Fluttershy looking outward, Mac at her. Occasionally she’d steal a glance towards Mac, like when they took the food from the basket. Each time she noticed him watching her and a furiously blush would creep along her cheeks. They didn’t speak much, but then again, neither pony was renowned for their verbosity.

They didn’t need words to share their thoughts, Fluttershy realised. It felt like she’d waited a thousand years for this day. All of her doubt melted away, Fluttershy leaning against Mac’s muscled side. She let out a contented sigh through her nose.

As dusk approached, they opened the basket and took out the meal. The quiches had a pleasant hint of cumin and turmeric, just enough to tingle the senses. The plum duff was nice and soft, with a rich aroma and the tingle of brandy. It was certainly a different recipe than Fluttershy used for her plum duff’s at Hearthwarming Eve.

But it was the wine that truly stole both their breaths away.

When Mac uncorked the bottle, a welcome spicy scent filtered out into the air. The wine within was a bright silver, almost white, colour. It fell into their glasses like a sheet of sparkling moonlight, and indeed the image was only reinforced when they took their first sips. Their lips were chilled, as were their tongues, almost like the drink was ice, yet it was not unpleasant. Fluttershy would almost say it was minty, but that would have done the taste a great injustice.

“I thought it was only a myth,” Mac chuckled as he lifted his glance to his lips a second time.

“What was?”

“Moon wine,” he explained, pointing at the label. “It hasn’t existed in a thousand years.”

The name tweaked a memory within Fluttershy, one of Twilight a few days before her coronation, telling a story about a trip she and Luna had taken.

“W-We should be careful then. Twilight told me moon wine is very strong.”

Mac chuckled, but nevertheless corked the bottle. It would be a shame to rush through such a gift.

“So, you going to be a Princess now?” Mac asked, shifting his gaze from Fluttershy to the gently rolling hills of Equestria’s heartlands.

Fluttershy didn’t answer him straight away, her thoughts still lost in the moment, and flowing a little along natural currents and eddies. She marvelled at the sense of peace and tranquility that flowed out of the dozens of wooded areas throughout the surrounding lands. Far to the west and east were the small enclaves of industrialization. Fluttershy could feel like a sliver jabbing her in the heart the sadness of the forests that had been harvested over the last hundred years for their lumber.

Still, it was just a small portion of the emotions the forests of not just Equestria but all Ioka constantly sent to the new alicorn. Somewhere to the south a great jungle, one almost as large as all of Equestria, laughed. To the north the Taiga half-slumbered, the forest older than any other, almost as old as the World Turtle herself. Then there was the sullen moodiness of the nearby Everfree, potent in its proximity.

With her new awareness, Fluttershy could feel the scars to the forests magic left by the final battle between Celestia and Luna so many years before. Yet, the anger the forest felt towards ponies was but a single note in the song that created an ocean of comfort around her.

It took Mac repeating the question to bring Fluttershy out of the haze of warm feelings.

“Me? A p-princess? Oh, no, no-no-no.” Fluttershy stiffened a little, the wing not pressed between her and Mac shooting out. “I’m not part of their herd, so, um, no. T-that’s okay, isn’t it? You don’t want me to be a princess, do you?”

Mac chortled as he shook his head, leaning down to nuzzle Fluttershy behind the ear. She gave a little giggle as his nose passed through her fur and mane.

“I couldn’t care if you were a princess or a pauper, Miss Posey,” Mac stated, the softness of his voice calming Fluttershy and settling her frightened wing. “My families worked these lands for four generations now. It’ll soon be five, if my sister’s foal has an ounce of Apple in her. Which she will.”

Fluttershy stiffened again at the mention of Applejack and foals. She wondered how much Mac knew, or just suspected, and how much she really knew herself.

“I... Um... W-well...”

Fluttershy struggled to find something to say.

“Applejack ain’t told you yet, has she?” Mac sighed at the little shake Fluttershy gave her head. “Huh, thought for sure she’d tell you and her friends first, if just to get some moral support. Only told us, uh, Granny, Bloom, and I, last night just before them royal guards showed up.”

“We suspected,” Fluttershy admitted in a fragile squeak. “For some time, actually. But she always said it wasn’t possible.”

Mac nodded at this, and Fluttershy felt some of the tension in her back and wings lessen.

“Eyup. She’s a headstrong one, but tends to worry too.” Mac grew silent, contemplative, thinking about something. “Family is important to Apples.”

There was something about the way Mac said those words that filled Fluttershy with a calming resolve. Smiling, she brushed her mane back from her face and looked up at Mac, at her stallion. The moon sat behind Mac, framing his strong jaw and the gentle slope of his muzzle as he stared at something beyond the horizon. His rough-cut mane waved in a slight breeze that tickled Fluttershy’s nose with the scent of apples and grass. Her heart fluttered when he turned a little and smiled at her, the corners of his soft green eyes crinkling.

“I’ve had a good time,” Mac said as he stood, offering Fluttershy a hoof to help her stand.

“M-Me too,” Fluttershy admitted.

They walked slowly back towards the farmstead. As they approached the dying tree, Fluttershy found herself again being pulled towards it. Altering her path, Fluttershy approached the tree. Her eyes glazed over as the wind whispered the tree’s name.

“Hello Appleberg,” she whispered, running a hoof down the rough bark. Through the contact Fluttershy could feel the last glimpses of life flowing through the roots. She could also feel the disease festering throughout the tree’s core, strangling the life from the poor thing. “Oh, my,” she added, leaning her head against the tree’s side. Ear pressed against bark, Fluttershy could hear a steady thrum of energy.

“Flutteshy?” Mac’s voice held a note of slight confusion, his hoofsteps stopping just behind her.

She ignored him, all her attention firmly held by the tree. Fluttershy felt so sad for Appleberg. The tree should have had several more good years, at least. She wished there was something that she could do to help.

A cool breath of wind tickled her mane as she remained against the tree.

With a start, Fluttershy realised that it wasn’t the wind tickling her mane, but magic. Aether rushed over her feathers and through her horn, flowing down to the frog of her hoof then into the tree. A real wind filled the orchard, emanating from Fluttershy as she spread her wings wide. Pink tendrils of aether leaked from her eyes, Fluttershy trying to push herself away from the tree, but finding herself stuck to the bark.

She didn’t know what was happening, only that it felt good and right. Fluttershy had no idea how she was performing the magic, only that it was as natural as flying. More and more magic entered her body, using it as a conduit into the tree. She could see renewed life erupt deep in the roots and trunks, rising up to touch yellow leaves.

The wind grew fiercer, plucking Mac’s hat and hurling it through the ordered lines of trees. In a breathless howl, Fluttershy threw back her head, drawing her hooves away from the tree’s trunk. Wings beating softly to keep her on her hind hooves, Fluttershy drew the disease from Appleberg as a grim yellow-green film. Surrounded by her pink magic, the disease hovered in a little, apricot sized ball.

The ball began to bubble and hiss within her magic, and slowly shrink until it was gone.

Panting, Fluttershy fell back to her hooves. Looking up she saw that Appleberg was green and full of life again.

“What was that?” Mac asked, drawing up to Fluttershy, offering his side for her to rest against as she regained her strength.

“I... don’t know...” Fluttershy admitted. “It must be part of being the, um, Goddess of Forests. I could feel how sick it was.”

“I ain’t never seen the like,” Mac muttered as he ran one of his hooves over the refreshed bark. “It’s like Appleberg weren’t ever sick.”

Little more was said as the pair sat staring up at the tree. Fluttershy wondered what other abilities and gifts she had gained. A feeling of being overwhelmingly small, and yet big at the same time, wormed its way into her heart, making her shudder and lean deeper into Macs side. Fluttershy wondered if it was the same feeling Twilight had when learning she was an alicorn and princess.

At least she wasn’t trying to understand all these changes alone, Fluttershy mused to herself. She had the princesses and queen for guidance, and Mac for support.

Closing her eyes, Fluttershy leaned her head up and just enjoyed Macs presence. Tomorrow she'd have to deal with being an alicorn. She couldn't begin to image the days afterwards. Fluttershy hoped Mac would be part of those days, there to support her as she learned to be a goddess.

But for that night, she just wanted to be Fluttershy.

Chapter Eighteen: Regrets

Myths and Birthrights

By Tundara

Part Three: Ghosts of the North

Chapter Eighteen: Regrets

The clatter of pots being knocked over followed by a stream of curses in Equestrian, peppered with a few choice words in Zebran, woke Zubu from his normal afternoon nap with a start. Rolling from his hammock, he found a state of complete destruction filling his hut. Pots were strewn across the floor. Vials and bottles of his precious reagents lay shattered.

A broken clay urn resting atop her head as if it were a hat, Sirius sat in the middle of the hut, while the cauldron Zubu used to craft his potions and cook dinner was rolling towards the door.

“Why is walking so hard?” Sirius lamented, tossing her hooves. “You make it seem so… simple.”

She tried to cross her hooves, but ended up falling onto her back, wings splayed in the puddle of spirits, preservatives, and leftover soup.

“Walking is simple, silly star.” Zubu chuckled, grabbing one of his staves and hobbling to the door. “You just put one hoof before the other.”

“I do that and I end up back in the dirt.” Sirius grumbled at the shaman’s back.

“Then you do it wrong. Get up. Try again. Only way to succeed.” Zubu’s tail flicked with impatience as he left his hut. As the beads swung in his passing, Zubu muttered beneath his breath. “Silly star, leaving her place to come here. Should know better. Supposed to be smart. Wise. Silly star.”

Outside he found Gilda practicing the latest spell formula he had taught her. A simple variation of shock spell that coated her talons in arcing electricity. Given Gilda’s disposition towards the physical, Zubu knew she’d appreciate the spell, and his intuition had proved true. She had even learned to cast it without the use of her staff; a feat Zubu wouldn’t have believed possible in one so new to the training. Gilda was a prodigy with Invocations. Shame she was terrible at pretty much everything else except alchemy. Her potions were passable.

He suspected it had to do with how she actually liked to cook. Gilda tried to hide it, but he noticed it most nights when he offered to make dinner. She usually made an excuse, offering to cook while he rested. Given the constant aches, and that she actually made a good root stew, Zubu was content to play along.

“Apprentice. That foolish star you found has made mess of hut again. Help her clean it up.”

“Yeah, whatever, in a moment.” Gilda gave a short huff, concentrating on her talons. “I finally got it, Master. Heart and Head. Just like you—Ow!”

The heavy crack of Zubu’s staff connecting with Gilda’s head echoed through the jungle. Hissing in consternation more than pain, Gilda reflexively brought her talons up to rub her head. A second yelp rang out as the shock spell discharged into her crest feathers.

“Now, Apprentice,” Zubu snapped, limping towards a path leading deeper into the jungle.

“Ow, sheesh, alright,” Gilda said in a low growl. “What’s your problem anyways?”

“Zubu’s problem is silly stars. Zubu’s problem is apprentice practicing wrong spells. Told you to practice shields. Shocking touch spell not shield.” Zubu’s tail snapped left and right as he spoke, his words a low, threatening growl.

“Why are you so mad at her, anyways? She came down to help us.” Gilda asked, pointedly ignoring Zubu’s comments about her.

“No, she came down because of vanity and foolish pride. Stars belong in sky, not on disc. This is not her place.”

“You didn’t seem to mind her helping before.”

“Different then. She not fall. A star falling is a sad thing, Gilda, and a bad omen. Nothing good has followed a starfall.” Zubu sighed, pulling aside a broad leaf with his staff.

“Uh Huh.” Gilda just shrugged, used to Zubu’s surly ways.

Zubu didn’t stay to see if Gilda would do as she had been told or not. He suspected she’d dither about for several minutes, probably practice her invocations a bit more, and by late afternoon get around to cleaning up the hut and assisting the foolish star.

Slowly, he made his way down to a narrow brook, the clear waters bubbling happily over worn rocks. At the bank he found an old fire-pit, one not used in a long time. Some of the stones used to make the ring had been moved or lost; by who or what Zubu didn’t care.

Reforming the ring with stones from the brook, Zubu sat down, using his staff to ignite a small flame within the pit. The flames grew until they were a little larger than a zebra in size, bright orange around the edges with a blue-white core.

Placing the tip of his staff within the flames, Zubu called up a complex spell matrix, expertly weaving a dozen runes together. At the spell’s completion the flames grew higher for a couple moments before dimming to a more normal size.

Gilda’s preoccupation with destructive magic and vengeance weighed more and more on Zubu’s old heart. He knew intimately the darkness her path entailed. The sadness, misery, and in the end either vanishing in a flash far too young, or slowly withering away, consumed by bitterness. Worse, nothing he said seemed to get through her overly thick griffon skull. It had to be the extra thick brow ridge for surviving crashes that was the source of griffon stupidity.

Sighing, and wondering again what he had done to deserve such an apprentice, Zubu turned his attention to the dancing orange flames.

A beautiful, youth-filled yellow face stared back. The filly’s features were odd; her muzzle shorter and eyes larger than Zubu was used to seeing on a filly’s face. Likewise, her mane was different, red like cherry blossoms, and falling over the top of a broad, strong brow and down to the nape of her neck, held in a bow a few shades pinker. Those large, yellow eyes grew larger still, the filly’s mouth falling open into a wide ‘O’ as she gazed up out of the fire.

“There’s a face in my fire!” the filly exclaimed, though Zubu had some difficulty making the meaning out with her thick accent. Still, tone carried much weight, and the filly’s voice spoke of her youth, energy, and compassion.

“No, you’re in my fire!” Zubu quickly countered with a smirk, used to similar comments from first time users of the fire-talk spell.

“No I ain’t!” the filly quickly retorted, her face contorting into a frown. “Wait, are you one of them Ifrits Zecora told me about?”

“Does Zubu look like a fire-lion?”

The filly seemed to consider his words, before rapidly nodding her head.

“Gah! You worse than stupid cat-bird!” Zubu threw up his hooves with a groan. “Is your master there? Zubu needs to speak with her.”

“Oh yeah, one moment.” The filly turned her head to speak to someone else nearby. “Hey! Zecora! There is a strange head in the fire that wants to talk with you!”

The filly’s head vanished from the flames to be replaced by a far more familiar one. Zecora looked older, and even more beautiful than when he’d last seen her. Her unusual blue eyes sparkled as they settled on Zubu. She had let her mane down, the spiky mohawk replaced by bouncing black and silver tresses that framed her face.

“Zubu, friend of old, it has been long since you called,” Zecora said, the corners of her eyes lighting into a smile.

“Has it?”

“Seven years it has been, since your face I have seen.”

Mulling over dates, seasons and events, Zubu supposed Zecora was correct. Had it really been that long? Seemed like only yesterday the two had parted company, Zecora taking passage aboard a small sloop destined for the Marelantians.

“You’ve taken an apprentice, I see,” Zubu said after being quiet for too long.

“Yes, indeed. Little Apple Bloom, will take her rites soon. She is strong and quick to see, a most able shaman, she will be.”

Zecora’s smile broadened, and Zubu could feel the fondness his old friend carried for her apprentice. It warmed his bones more than the flickering flames, and almost brought out a grin.

“That’s good. Very good, indeed. Zubu’s apprentice is stubborn, ill-tempered, and intent on walking a dark path, it seems.”

“So, the saying holds true, ‘like master, like apprentice’, for you?” Zecora chuckled, giving Zubu a wink.

“Too much so.” Zubu chortled, rocking onto his haunches. The chortle quickly turned into a hacking cough. When he looked back up he saw concern written across Zecora’s angelic face.

“You are not well,” she said, and for once not following with a rhyme.

“My time’s almost over. It’s done what the Empress couldn’t. I am trying to last long enough to finish the bulk of Gilda’s training, but no one, not even Zubu, can cram several years into a few months.” Zubu’s voice trailed off as his reality circled closer. He could see Death stalking him, a black feline shape always waiting in the shadows to pounce. Returning to the task at hoof, Zubu asked, “Zecora, Zubu have a favour to ask of you. After Zubu is no more… take care of Orenda for him, yes? She’s been instructed to find you when… When Zubu crosses the veil.”

Zecora sadly nodded her head. “We will watch over her, my dear friend. She will have a forest and fields to play in without end.”

“Thank you, old friend.” Zubu said, his bones creaking as he stood. “Now, Zubu has to return to his hut to deal with silly Firestar and his apprentice. Till we meet again.”

Ending the fire-talk spell, Zubu turned to make his way home, only to be stopped by a sharp voice emanating from the brook.

“So, you’re going to leave, just like that? No goodbye? No tearful farewells? Just, an empty hut?”

“You’re back, then,” Zubu muttered, an ear flicking to a sound like water sloshing in a barrel. He didn’t need to look to know the brook was rising up, growing a head and legs. He still did anyways, and smiled as the water took the form of a lithe, three tailed fox. “Where have you been, Orenda? Old Zubu been stuck with ignorant apprentice and silly star for days now, alone. No one with sense to talk to.”

“I was following that shade,” Orenda said, the fox’s tails flicking in agitation.

“Oh? And where has she gone without the star to provide a mouth?” Zubu turned, sitting down with a soft ‘whump’.

“Zerubaba.”

A shiver of rage and cold fear worked its way along Zubu’s spine at the name, his face falling into a terrible scowl.

“What could any decent spirit or being have to do in that cursed city?”

The fox shrugged, canting her ears to one side. “I can’t really say. An Ifrit caught me snooping before I could discover much. I did see it was the Empress that the spirit visited.”

“What role does that butcher have to play?” Zubu wondered, then shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Too much to do, too much to worry about already. Have to finish as much of Gilda’s training before my end.”

“Ha! You can’t die, Zubu,” Orenda snorted. “You’re too cranky to let Death take you.”

“If only it were so,” laughed Zubu. “But all mortal things die. It is our defining trait! Ha-ha!”

As Zubu continued to laugh and chortle to himself, Orenda said in a near whisper, “I won’t do it, you know.”

“Hmm?”

Orenda started to say something, then seemed to change her mind, mouth closing with a snap.

“Nevermind then.” Zubu grunted as he began the short journey back to the hut. “No time for regrets. Not with so much to be done. Come, old friend, let’s start this final adventure, yes?”

* * *

Applejack snorted, lifting a hoof to adjust one of the dozen picture frames that lined the walls of the living room. Everything needed to be perfect for that night, more-so than usual.

The food needed to be perfect. A pot of vegetable stew bubbled happily over the stove, while a couple salmon baked in the oven. Applejack found the smell of the cooking fish to be borderline revolting, and had gone so far as to open every window and door in the house in order to invite a breeze to blow the smell away. It had proved only partially effective. A couple pies for dessert sat on the windowsill cooling down

Likewise, her family needed to be perfect. Applejack would be the first to defend her family most days, but she was well aware of their idiosyncrasies. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle had been ordered to have baths after finishing their chores. Even Mac and Granny Smith had been ordered to make themselves presentable, both doing so with no small amount of suspicion. They were aware that Applejack’s special somepony was going to finally be introduced, and they’d been making plans.

This frightened Applejack. Made her hooves tingle and her back wobble, while sweat beaded along her brow. Still, neither had seen Applejack in such a delirious state of anxiety before to find ‘perfection’, not even at the most recent Apple Family Reunion. There was little Applejack could do to dissuade either from making a scene, and so she just prayed to Celestia repeatedly to give her the strength to see the night through without making a scene herself.

That left the farmhouse. Applejack had been in cleaning mode since the previous dawn. At first she tried to enlist Bloom and Sweetie, but that idea had been abandoned five minutes after the ‘Cutie Mark House-Cleaners’ got finished almost destroying the main bathroom. The housecleaning served a second purpose, keeping Applejack from wondering where and what had become of Rarity.

Celestia had appeared earlier that morning to speak to Sweetie. She’d taken the filly aside, sitting beneath an old sycamore that shaded the back porch. The Apple family sat, waiting and wondering what news the princess carried, all painfully aware it could not be good from the sadness in her eyes. Their guess had been proved correct when Sweetie had begun to wail and scream. The filly even went so far as to kick Celestia’s forelegs, crying for her to bring Rarity back.

The princess had simply sat there as Sweetie pounded her anger and despair upon her. When the filly at last tired, she wrapped Sweetie in a wing and drew her close to her breast. She whispered something Applejack couldn’t hear, and then pulled out the box that contained the Elements of Harmony. From the box, Celestia retrieved the Element of Generosity.

“You need to be strong for your sister, Sweetie Delilah Belle,” Celestia said, just loud enough for the cluster of ponies watching the pair to hear. Slipping the Element around Sweetie’s neck, Celestia kissed her just above her horn, and then approached Applejack.

“Rares ain’t coming back, is she,” Applejack stated, the finality in her voice wearing on Celestia’s already cracking mask.

“It’s hard to say,” Celestia admitted. “Twilight made a grievous mistake. It was an honest one, but that doesn’t alter the facts.”

“And what’s that, princess?” Applejack could do little to hide the bitterness in her heart. “That one of my best friends sent another one of my best friends to a place so bad that even your kind don’t want to be there?”

“Applejack!” Granny Smith snapped, her brow pressed into a hard line. “That ain’t any way to talk to the Princess!”

“No. It’s alright, Edith.” Celestia waved Granny Smith down.

“Darn it, it ain’t right! Nothing has been these past few years. First Nightmare Moon, and don’t get me wrong, I am really glad Luna’s back, but that was a near thing, princess, a very near thing. Where would we be if Twilight had failed?”

“I had total confidence in Twilight,” Celestia gave a slight laugh, her eyes growing momentarily distant. “My sister’s return was the only time I knew in advance what would happen.”

“You did?” Applejack rocked back on her hooves, perplexed. She then gave her head a sharp shake. “Course you did. Ain’t important, though, as none of us knew that. But what about Discord? Or that affair with them changelings? How’d that Chrysalis get the best of you, princess?”

As she spoke, the fire in Applejack’s belly rose higher and higher. She knew it was wrong, but all the pent up fear and frustration flowed out of her and onto Celestia.

“My sister and I were being poisoned.”

“That —wait, what?”

“A small dose of Mallebore in our tea every day over months. Enough that almost any other being would have died. On Luna and I, all it did was weaken us.” Celestia actually giggled, her wings flicking in amusement. “She must have learned of that trick from Cadence. Nightmare Moon used the same poison during our war. I just thought it was the stress of the wedding getting to me. I didn’t even think to check for poisons until after Cadence smote the changelings. A mistake it will take a long time for me to repeat.” Settling her wings, and her amusement passing, Celestia placed a hoof on Applejack’s withers. “Keep faith, Applejack, that Rarity will return. She’s about as stubborn and determined as you.”

“Yeah, she is, ain’t she?” Applejack chuckled as tears rimmed her eyes.

Little more was said that Applejack heard, her mind growing distant as she worried for Rarity. Celestia had hardly spoken with Granny Smith and Mac, just a few words, and then she left.

Throwing herself into preparations for the dinner party, or soiree as Rarity would have called it, helped keep Applejack focused. She toured the house twice, running down a mental checklist. The table had been moved from the smallish kitchen to the living room to make space for all the ponies that would be attending. Flowers set as decorations and entrees. The good Neighpon dinner plates shone on the cream tablecloth.

Everything seemed to be in order.

And if it continued to go according to plan, this would be the night she told Soarin he was going to be a father.

Applejack trembled a little wondering what his reaction would be. They had only seen each other off-and-on over the years. Nothing really serious, as far as Applejack was concerned. Sure, some nights she’d lay awake in bed, her heart fluttering as she imagined a warm weight next to her, a leg draped across her barrel and holding her close. She could picture a string of foals —five of them— playing in the orchards while she and Soarin watched from the porch. The fantasy always left her with a goofy smile.

But Soarin was married first and foremost to his career. Applejack could understand and respect that; it wasn’t that different from her dedication to the farm. He only had a few more good years of flying before he’d have to retire from the stuntteam branch of the Wonderbolts. Applejack had looked it up, and the longest membership belonged to Sky Dive, and he’d been a stunt flier for seven years. The average was four years, and Soarin had been with the team five.

She’d been mollified even more when Soarin had explained that the familial nature of the pegasus legions meant that he was flying with relatives. He had a full-blooded sister on the team, and a half-sister. Applejack had only further equated his flying to how she felt about the farm.

A knock on the door broke Applejack from her thoughts.

Performing a frantic triple check of the dining set, Applejack let out a deep breath, stepped up to the door, opened it, and found Fluttershy and an unicorn she didn’t recognise.

She was an off-white, with two toned mane of straw yellow striped through a field of green. Her blue eyes shined above a wide smile. On her flank was a single, bright red poppy flower.

While the stranger gave Applejack pause, what really caused the gears in her brain to grind to a halt was that it was the old Fluttershy standing before her. The Fluttershy Applejack had known for the better part of a decade. The one without a horn and that didn’t spontaniously heal dying trees.

“Oh, hello, Applejack,” Fluttershy shrunk back from the quizzical look Applejack gave the pair. “W-We’re not early, are we?”

“No, you ain’t,” Applejack said, opening the door a bit wider. “Um, who's your friend, ‘Shy?”

“Oh! Um—”

“You can call me Forsythia,” the unicorn smiled wide, then looked around the room. “My, this is charming!” she exclaimed, scurrying along to look at the pictures on the wall.

“‘Shy, who in Celestia’s mane is that?” Applejack hissed out of the corner of her mouth.

“It’s, um… Iridia,” Fluttershy said in a barely audible whisper.

“Excuse me?” Applejack felt the blood drain a little from her face.

“S-She insisted!” Fluttershy’s wings buzzed a little as panic pressed down her ears. “She said she had to stay close for the spell making me look normal to work.”

“It’s okay, ‘Shy, I’ll just put out another place setting,” Applejack said, moving towards the kitchen while Iridia wander over to a bookshelf and pulled out a random book.

Trailing behind Applejack, Fluttershy apologized several times in rapid succession. “I just couldn’t leave her. She looked so sad when I told her it was a family dinner. The poor thing hasn’t stopped following me around the last couple days. I-I don’t think she’s had a friend in a long time. Y-You’re not mad, are you? I know this dinner is supposed to be special.” Fluttershy pressed her ears further back, if it were possible.

Suppressing a sigh, Applejack said, “I ain’t mad. I’m worried.”

“Worried? About what?” Fluttershy’s ears pricked forward in a combination of relief and curiosity.

Pressing her lips into a tight line, Applejack muttered, “Just want this to be a good dinner, is all. There’s nothing else.”

“Oh, I’m worried for her too.” Fluttershy extended a wing over Applejack’s back, her feathers tickling Applejack’s coat before tugging the farmer into a light hug. “But Princess Luna and Iridia are both confident that she will be fine.”

“I ain’t so sure,” Applejack said as she pulled the fish out of the oven, thankful Fluttershy assumed she was worrying about Rarity. “Did that Arty mare say much about what her home was like?”

Fluttershy’s face drained a little, her wings snapping back to her sides.

“I saw only a little. S-She… didn’t spend much time… She, well, she lived in Tartarus. Almost all of the memories I saw were, um, there.”

Applejack lifted a curious eye. “Tartarus? But, that don’t make no sense. Everypony knows that’s where the faithless and the worst ponies go. Why was she there?”

“Well, um, I’m not sure. Oh! But I do have some rather nice memories about a pony named Lethe. She was one of five rivers that flows through Tartarus. I’m, um, not sure how that works.”

“Probably the same way Celestia is the sun, Luna the moon, and our Twilight the stars, ‘Shy.” Applejack smiled, opening a bottle of apple brandy. She poured several glasses of the brandy, and then three of regular apple juice for herself, Apple Bloom, and Sweetie.

“M-Maybe. That makes sense, I suppose. The Underworld is a big place. There was one area called Asphodel Meadows. It was where ponies that were neither good nor bad went.” Fluttershy explained as she helped Applejack with serving the food. “There was also something below Tartarus. A prison, I think… I’m sorry, but I don’t have many of Artemis’ memories, and they are all jumbled up. Most are rather scary too.” A little shudder worked its way through Fluttershy, making Applejack bite her lip and feel a little guilty for prodding.

A sharp series of knocks on the door almost made Applejack jump.

“Oh, Celestia, he’s here. Soarin’s here,” Applejack gasped, dashing about the kitchen as a second set of knocks sounded, followed by Mac’s deep burr that he was coming and whoever was waiting should be patient. Hearing her brother’s voice, Applejack darted from the kitchen, skidded in front of Mac and forcing him back with a withering look. Pausing only long enough to straighten her hat, Applejack pulled the door open.

“Good evening,” Soarin said, brandishing his trademark grin like a sword. He wore his blue dress uniform, complete with polished medals and wonderbolt pins on his lapels. “I’m not overdressed, am I? You said it was a formal dinner, and I wanted to make a good impression.”

“No, its alright, better than alright,” Applejack returned his grin with one of her one, ushering him inside.

Almost immediately Soarin was stopped by Mac. An almost unreadable expression was on Mac’s face as he looked down at Soarin.

“You must be Big Macintosh,” Soarin said, offering a hoof.

Mac cast a slow glance down at the offered hoof. Behind Soarin, Applejack gave her brother a too wide smile, silently pleading with him to be nice. Lifting his own hoof at an almost glacial speed, Mac gave Soarin’s a bump.

“Eeyup,” was all he said, before moving to the table. Applejack’s breath of relief went unnoticed.

The tension hardly abated as the dinner began. As Matriarch, Granny Smith sat at the table’s head, her narrowed eyes boring holes into Soarin. Applejack sat to Granny Smith’s right, with Soarin beside her, and Mac across the table. Next to Mac was Fluttershy, with the fillies at the far end of the table with the disguised Iridia.

Conversation, such as it was, hummed mostly between Apple Bloom and Iridia, the former explaining to the latter all about potion brewing. Sweetie remained silent, pushing her food around her plate with her fork. Likewise, Fluttershy said very little, concentrating on her fish and stealing glances at Mac when she thought nopony was looking. Mac, never one for needless words at the best of times, spent his time providing support to Fluttershy. Granny Smith was the opposite, peppering Soarin with question after question. Soarin did his best to answer, while Applejack attempted to deflect the most pointed and mean-spirited ones.

Dinner was starting to wind down, Applejack losing the tension that had been making knots in her back all afternoon as the time approached when she could take Saorin aside and explain things to him. She wouldn’t call it a rousing success, but neither had it been a total disaster. Middle of the field. Normal. An okay evening. Naturally, this was when everything fell apart.

It was an innocent mistake that shattered the evening.

“Alchemy is an old and noble profession, little one,” Iridia said, giving Apple Bloom a little smile over the baked potato on her plate. She then cleared her throat to gather the attention of the rest of the table. “Everypony, I have a little announcement to make.” Seven sets of eyes turned to Iridia, most a little perplexed or perturbed. “I’ve decided to return home, and I was thinking of asking Fluttershy and Macintosh to join me.”

Mac simply tilted his head, while Fluttershy tried to shrink beneath the table, her cheeks blazing.

“It’ll be good for her to see the vales and the ancient trees they contain. Especially the World Tree. This will also give me a chance to further her training. I wouldn’t want to interrupt Fluttershy and Macintosh’s courtship, however, so the offer is contingent on them both coming.”

“Oh, um, thank you, I think,” Fluttershy said in a hesitant mutter, pressing herself against Mac. “We’ll have to—”

“Will this help ‘Shy with her little problem?” Mac asked, wrapping a hoof around Fluttershy.

“I see no reason why it wouldn’t.” Iridia quickly bobbed her head. “The Halla could be… concerned with Fluttershy, but I don’t believe even the most stone-bound Traditionalist would act against her. We’d be avoiding the Traditionalist at first, regardless. It would probably be best if I went to them alone, actually. They won’t take it well that I am reclaiming my throne, and then abdicating it to Twilight. Mind passing the buttered corn?”

“Why would you go through all that then, if you’re going to give the throne up, your majesty?” Soarin asked as he passed the bowl of corn. Applejack shot him a surprised glance, one he answered with, “Sorry, AJ. I knew who she was from the briefing reports given out just after Princess Twilight’s coronation. Not many prench unicorns in Equestria to begin with, and none with a poppy cutie mark.”

“Yes, Princess Luna keeps telling me the same thing,” Iridia said as she took the bowl. “And the reason is that once I finish Fluttershy’s training, I think I am going to go on a bit of a sojourn. I want to see how the disc has changed in this past age. I want to visit the graves of old friends and foes, and apologize for the things I’ve done. None of which I can do if I am either the Halla’s ‘prisoner’, or the Eternal Herd could form at the drop of a bit to come looking for me. Imagine that, a million or more halla running hither-thither across the disc, trampling anything that crossed their paths? No, no, that can’t be allowed. I also need to think of Twilight, and ensure her birthright.”

“Why would the Halla listen to you if they hate you so much, your majesty?” Applejack asked, frowning down the table.

“It’s only a very small segment that is dead set against me, actually. Most go along out of a sense of tradition, hence their name as Traditionalists, and fear. If I show them I’m a reformed mare, thanks to Twilight and Fluttershy, I’m sure I can bring them around.” Iridia stabbed her corn, lifting it up along with her eyes, fixing Applejack with a thunderous look. “And if they continue to be fools, I will bring a terrible wrath upon their idiotic heads.”

Applejack gulped, the room growing dark and trembling for a moment.

“What does that mean?” Sweetie asked, oblivious to the chill overtaking the table.

Perking her ears up, and giving Sweetie a gentle smile, all trace of hardness and anger vanishing, Iridia said, “I don’t know. I’ll come up with something though. The threat will hopefully be enough if they dig their hooves in. Halla can be rather stubborn. I hope it doesn’t come to that and they see reason.”

“Will these Halla do anything to Fluttershy if they found her?”

“I doubt it in the extreme. They’ve never had a problem with Celestia or Luna, even during the War of the Sun and Moon. It’s me in particular they hate. The worst they’d do is escort the two of you to the pass. More likely they’d ignore your presence and simply avoid you. It would be up to the Taiga to deal with you.”

Applejack joined Mac in chuckling at the idea of letting a forest ‘deal’ with the Goddess of Forests.

“Alright,” Mac said as his mirth died away. “We’ll do it, right ‘Shy?”

“I, um, guess so. Only if you really want to, though. I mean, there is a lot to do around the farm. Y-You don’t have to do this for me.”

Mac gave his broad shoulders a shrug. “Ain’t much to do this time of the year. Harvests not for a few months. AJ and Bloom can manage fine until then without me.”

“Most excellent,” Iridia said, her eyes dancing in delight as she clapped her hooves together. “On that note, thank you for a wonderful meal, Applejack, and congratulations on your foal. I know she will be as strong and beautiful as her mother.”

Applejack’s heart fell as Soarin, in the midst of finishing his brandy, began to cough and choke.

“Excuse me?” he managed to wheeze the question between gasping coughs, his eyes shrinking to little black dots in a sea of green. “C-Care to repeat that?”

Shooting Iridia a withering glare, one the queen either failed to notice or refused to acknowledge, Applejack sat in cold dread as her carefully laid plans were torn asunder. Standing swiftly, Applejack said in a curt voice, “Soarin, we need to talk,” before making her way to the porch.

As they slipped passed, Iridia asked Fluttershy, “Did I do something wrong?”

Making sure the door was closed, and knowing it wouldn’t stop any prying ears, Applejack turned to her coltfriend and braced herself for the inevitable. Soarin had a troubled look on his face, his normally bemused eyes were distant and hurt. A flicker of pain stabbed deep into Applejack’s chest to know she was the cause.

“I think I’m in need of an explanation,” was all he said. Soarin couldn’t keep the reproachful hint of disappointment and fear out of his voice.

Wincing at his tone, Applejack took a step towards him, only for Soarin to step back. The simple action cut deep, even though Applejack had been expecting it. She knew what he was thinking. If she was pregnant, she had to have been fooling around behind his back. Afterall, it was a month before the Season they last saw each other. A part of her wanted to yell at him, tell him that he didn’t have exclusivity with her, but it’d have been a lie. The words had never been spoken, but Applejack knew in her heart that the excuses and denials she’d been throwing at herself even that very day were hollow and false.

All she needed was to see Soarin’s eyes to know the truth of her heart.

“It’s complicated, love,” Applejack said, sitting on the porch bench. It took her a moment to realise she’d called him ‘love’ for the first time. The word and building realisations made Applejack smile despite the tension gnawing at her stomach.

“Seems rather simple to me.” Soarin frowned, his expression growing darker.

“I meant it’s Elements of Harmony complicated,” Applejack tried to sooth his anger with a pleading looking, asking with a gesture for him to sit beside her.

Hesitating for a moment, Soarin slid onto the bench.

“Just, let me explain, and afterwards, afterwards you can be angry, or disappointed in me, or whatever you want. Just, please, let me explain.” Applejack waited to get a stiff nod to continue before plunging into the speech she’d prepared since learning of her pregnancy. “The foal is yours, ain’t no doubt about that. You can have a look at the doc’s reports if you don’t believe me. I don’t blame you for being suspicious. Can’t say I wouldn’t be if our places were reversed. Just, believe me when I say I wouldn’t lie to you. Not about this, love.”

“You’re positive?”

“I’m the Element of Honesty. I wouldn’t, I couldn’t, lie about something this important. She’s yours.”

Soarin was quiet for a few minutes, his face contorting through a long sequence of emotions as he sorted through his feelings and thoughts. Applejack stayed silent as she watched the stallion she loved.

“This is very strange,” Soarin admitted, avoiding Applejack’s gaze and focusing on the stars dancing high above.

Applejack couldn’t hold back a short chuckle, the tension in her belly relaxing just a little.

“I got two alicorns pretending to be regular ponies over for dinner. Strange seems to be pretty normal in my life.”

“So… You’ve been to the doctor already. Do you… Is she… Ahem, what, um, tribe is she?”

Applejack watched Soarin out of the corner of her eye, oddly eager to see his reaction as she said, “She’s an alicorn.”

Soarin’s head whipped around as the words registered, his mouth falling open into a wide ‘O’. Barely holding back a laugh as the last of her worries evaporated, Applejack put a leg over Soarin’s withers.

“I told you, Elements of Harmony complicated.”

Soarin let out a long breath, leaning back on the bench. His usual happy sparkle had returned to his eyes, a silly grin on his face. A low laugh grew in Soarin’s chest, working its way out into the clear night. Reaching over, he kissed Applejack on her brow before leaning his head against hers. Fire blossomed across her face at the touch, her heart quickening until she thought the ponies no doubt eavesdropping at the door would hear it.

“Well, this settles it, then.” He gave Applejack’s hooves a tender squeeze. “I’ll tell Spitfire that I’m retiring immediately.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Applejack protested. “You could finish this season at least.”

Soarin shrugged. “I’ve been thinking about retiring for more than a few months, actually. My turns are getting sloppy and I’m slowing down. Stunt flying is a game for the young and stupid. I’m only one of those things now. Besides, how could I think of risking my neck to entertain a few ponies when I have the most beautiful mare waiting for me down here?”

“Oh, so, it’s my looks you’re dating me for, huh?”

“Well, that and your pie. You have the most delicious and moist pie I’ve ever tasted.” Soarin gave his brow a lecherous wiggle, to which Applejack responded with a playful swing of her free hoof.

Laughing like a schoolfoal, Soarin tumbled off the bench, dragging Applejack with him. For a few minutes they rolled across the porch, their good spirits reaching the stars, and making the night brighter still. Eventually they stopped, Applejack playfully nipping Soarin’s ear before curling her head against his neck.

In a moment, she knew, they’d have to get up and go back inside. There were practical matters that needed tending with Mac going away. Though, if Soarin was serious about early retirement, and Applejack had to admit she’d rarely seen him so certain about something, there’d at least be a set of hooves ready to lend help. For the first time since Rarity’s disappearance, things seemed to be getting a little better.

* * *

Hades flew low over the ocean, the gentle weight of Soir pressing down on his back while salty dew clung to his legs and underbelly. He’d been flying almost non-stop for days now, and his wings were beginning to ache from the effort. They’d taken only a couple breaks to rest, Hades using a cloud-walking spell on Soir and conjuring a selection of fruits for her to eat. To keep his mind occupied and away from the burning muscles, and a desire for the wings of a maritime pegasus, Hades had taken to chatting with Soir.

He would share stories of his youth and the time before time, when all the worlds were unformed and nothing but nascent dreams in the ethereal winds of the Far Realm. Soir particularly liked the stories of the war against the Quus; vile abominations, birthed of madness and chaos. She had laughed at the funny bits, and clung tighter to Hades at the frightening ones. It had been many, many centuries since Hades had told these stories. He hadn’t spoken of them to Artemis, and his older children had only heard snippets from him. Sharing their races’ history felt good, and made Hades’ heart feel as if it were a feather caught in an updraft.

Ioka’s sun shone all the brighter as he retold, for the seventh time, the tale of the final battle, and how the Aethyir sealed the Quus in an endless sleep inside the remains of the Far Realms, locked away until the end of time when all the worlds would die, and the cycle would begin anew. At that time, the alicorns would become true Aethyir once more, take up blades and shield, and strike the Quus down for good, bringing Order to the next worlds.

It was a lie, of course. Not even the Fates could see beyond the end of time to know what would happen. But Soir didn’t know that, and it was a good ending.

“I’ve done much of the talking today,” Hades said, not taking his eyes off the horizon. Not that it had changed for the last hour. All that could be seen was a sheet of grey and white cloud. “Why don’t you tell me of your mother.”

Soir grew sullen, Hades feeling her shift to gaze down on a fat bellied cloud below them.

“Which mother?” she eventually asked.

“Any will do, though I am mostly curious about your birth mother.” Hades rolled his shoulders in a half-shrug between flaps of his wings.

“I can’t remember much about her.” Soir grunted. The way her body tensed and she squeezed her hooves around Hades’ neck told him she wasn’t being wholly truthful. “I do remember a little more every day though, but what I recall…” Trembling, Soir buried her face in Hades’ mane.

Hades continued to fly in silence. He could feel two growing wet spots on the back of his neck, and knew a sympathetic pang at the sadness she carried. No words came to mind, no soft comforts or encouragements. Such things had always been more Hecate and Nyx’s forte.

“I’m a bad pony. A very bad pony.” Soir eventually said, rolling her head to gaze at the endless sheets of cloud.

“I don’t believe that,” Hades snorted, gliding for a while and slowly drifting towards the fluffy bed below.

He had a very strong desire to take a short break to let his wings relax. Only trouble was, if he stopped to rest Hades knew that he’d not want to leave. So, as his hooves began to drag through the drifting vapours, Hades beat his wings to climb once more.

“It’s the truth though.”

“To my eyes, you shine with the light of innocence.” Hades tried to sound soothing with the lie, but even to his ears it came out flat.

Soir’s giggle, however, gave him a flicker of hope that he had at least partly succeeded in soothing her conscience. Gripping his neck, Soir grew quiet again, the pair enjoying the brilliant sun and cool breeze upon their faces. Hades in particular took great pleasure in the simple act of flying, in spite of the aches he’d developed.

An hour later, they were brought out of their silence by two muffled bangs reverberating up through the clouds.

“What is that?” Hades asked, ears swivelling to the noise below.

“That sounded like cannons,” Soir gasped, crawling along Hades’ back to peer down, but only saw the cloud’s puffy top. “Can you do something about the clouds?”

“Ha, that is easy!” Hades snorted.

It took only a moment to form the matrix to summon a wind, one that cut the cloud into thin, wispy shreds. Hades’ wings stiffened as his eyes fell upon a curious scene.

Ships moved across a slightly rolling ocean. They were divided into two lines, with over twenty ships in each fleet. He was momentarily perplexed by how they moved without the use of oars, but the towers of white sails above each ship filling with a firm breeze out of the south answered his unspoken question. Soir gave an excited squeal, clambering to get a better view.

“That’s the Grand Fleet! There’s Admiral Joyeuse Vallée’s flagship, the, um, the Montagne. You can tell by the pennant.” She practically screamed in a curious combination of delight and dread. “Look! Look! You can see they’ve run out their guns!” Soir’s hooves dug into Hades’ back as she switched sides and pointed to the other fleet. “And that’s Hackney’s Marelantic Fleet! And their… Oh, no!”

Scrambling up Hades’ neck, Soir leaned forward so she could look him in the eye.

“We have to do something!” She said in breathless worry. “Those were ranging shots we heard before.”

“Ranging whats?” Hades lifted a brow.

“Ranging shots! For the cannons!” Soir pressed her face forward, almost unbalancing Hades. “Don’t you know what cannons are?”

“Can’t say I do.”

“Ugh! How can somepony so old and powerful not know about cannons! They’ve been around just about forever!” Soir grumbled as she scooted down Hades’ neck.

Suppressing a chuckle at her antics, Hades said, “You certainly seem to know a lot about this sort of thing.”

Soir went quiet again, the filly watching as the Hackney fleet drew closer and closer to the Prench line of battle. A ranging shot fired from the middle of the Hackney line broke Soir out of her thoughts. She watched as the iron ball sped across the water, skipping between the Montagne and the ship before her.

“I… spent some time in a locket… I think,” Soir said, curling into a tight ball. “I was… worn and passed down through generations. At first I couldn’t do anything, see anything, or even hear. That part of me was alone and in the dark. Gradually, I learned how to look through the crystal, and even whisper to whoever wore me. A lot of what that fragment saw and said is still hazy. I only strongly recall two ponies, everypony else is just a blur of colour and noise. One was a sickly filly. She liked to laugh, and though she knew she was dying herself, she tried to help me.” Soir sniffed, a little tremor of ancient sorrow trickling into Hades’ where they touched. “The other was Captain Or Aube of the Holy Prench Navy. She thought my locket was a good luck charm, and always wore it in battle.”

Hades digested Soir’s words as he continued to watch the two fleets draw closer. He knew something terrible and unspeakable had been done to Soir. The scars on her soul should have been impossible.

“What happened to you?”

“I don’t know, really.” Soir shrugged, uncurling herself to latch onto Hades’ back once more. “I told you before, most is blurred together. From what I can remember I know I was a bad pony. A very, very bad pony.”

“I do not believe that you are a bad pony,” Hades grunted. “The wounds you sustained… They should have been enough to disperse your essence, destroying you entirely. Yet, clearly, they did not.”

Again, Soir shrugged.

“This was supposed to be one of the brighter worlds,” Hades said to himself, narrowing his gaze as the Hackney fleet turned and began a mad dash towards their opponents.

Cannons thundered along the Prench line, sending a swarm of iron towards the Hackney ships. Hades arched a brow as half way across the water, glyphs began to activate in spikes of magic. Fireballs, lances of lightning, and blasts of freezing wind smashed into a wall of reactive barriers among the advancing fleet. The noise was tremendous even so high above the battle as the barriers repelled the onslaught.

“That was stupid, opening with Glyph rounds,” Soir mumbled, half to herself. “Should use standard shot to hammer the shields first.”

“Amazing,” Hades chuckled, as the Hackney ships breached the Prench line, firing along both sides at less than fifty yards. “The power of Ioka’s vessels…”

“Why won’t you stop this? You could if you wanted too, right?” Soir asked, her eyes fixed on the Montagne as a pair of smaller Hackney ships, both third rates, ganged up on the massive flagship. Even fighting both sides, cannons spitting until their muzzles glowed red, the Montagne held her own. In a hail of snapping lines and shattering wood, the mainmast of her larboard opponent toppled, entangling the two ships together.

“Why should I is the better question?” Hades turned his head to look back at Soir.

“Thousands of ponies will die!” Soir quickly protested, jabbing a hoof at the Prench rear-guard.

The battle was fiercest there, as the Hackney fleet set upon their enemies with frightening zeal, fighting yard-arm to yard-arm.

“So?” Hades let the single word strike Soir like one of the cannons from the ships below. “As you learned with your mother, mortals die, go to Tartarus or Elysium, and in time are reborn. I do not know what politics are at play below us. What cause or justification there may be for this battle. But, far more importantly, I don’t care what happens. My goals do not include them. Watching this unfold has been a curiosity, nothing more.”

Finishing his explanation, Hades leaned forward and flew away from the battle. The thunder and howl of magic followed the pair until the two fleets became nothing more than a dark stain on the horizon.

“We’re both bad ponies, aren’t we?” Soir mumbled into Hades ear as a line of islands appeared ahead.

“Perhaps.” Hades admitted. “Or perhaps we are gods, and our motivations and designs do not coincide with mortals as often as either would like. If you had your full power, would you have swooped down, forced the mortals apart? What would you have done if, when you left, they attacked each other again?”

“I… don’t know.”

“I am the God of the Dead, and you are Dreams.” Hades pumped his wings a few times, then entered a long glide towards the nearest island. “It is not our duty to become involved in every little squabble the mortals have. Upon Gaea, and beneath it in Tartarus, alicorns separate themselves from the masses of ponies. When we begin to choose favourites, when our preferences for a city grow too conspicuous, resentment and war inevitably follow.”

“But the Sun Princess has ruled Equestria for a thousand years, and nopony has ever declared war on them,” Soir pointed out.

“Perhaps because she and Faust have been alone with only each other,” Hades grumbled, unwilling to relinquish his point.

A fit of giggles rippling through Soir made him almost reconsider. “Also, I thought adults weren’t supposed to tell foals their marks.” Hades could feel Soir smirking on his back.

“Normally that would be true. You are a special case, however. That part of you has been sealed, along with much of your birthright. I assume this was done by Faust. Given your damaged memories and the old wounds I can see inflicted to your soul, I believe she did this to help your mind heal.”

“Faust was the pony your brother fought when momma was… hurt, right?”

“She is,” Hades confirmed. “She had been watching us from your broach that night.”

Soir lifted a hoof to the broach in her mane as Hades spoke.

“Is she watching us now?”

Hades let a low laugh echo through his being. “No.”

Slowly, the island transformed from a brown smudge to a sharp volcanic slope, rising out of the sea. Facing their approach sat a short, crescent bay framed by jagged black cliffs. Only low prickly shrubs and a few trees dotted the land with life. Hades felt a slight dampening of spirit, unaware of the hope to relax he’d been holding since spotting the island. Resigned to either sitting on an empty, stoney tip of land or continuing to fly, Hades decided to press on.

Gently gaining altitude to skim over the volcano’s caldera, Hades was surprised to see an oasis of green at the volcano’s heart. A town had been built atop the volcano, a little smattering of pink and blue buildings. Hades dipped into a wide turn to get a better look. He only needed to beat his wings a few times before they crossed the far side of the island and found a little harbour. Below, a pair of smaller ships sat at anchor, gently rocking on the ocean’s swell, while along the beach dozens of small skiffs and rafts had been dragged up onto the dark pebbles.

Little grey forms darted about this side of the island from the beach up to the town, their long wings showing them to be Tern Pegasi. Summoning an illusion spell to hide his nature, Hades wondered if they’d been spotted. A few of the pegasi did turn their heads to look at the new-comers, but the vast majority returned to whatever they’d been doing. For most this seemed to either be unloading the skiffs or laying in hammocks while shouting at the ones working.

“How about we take a rest?” Hades suggested, greedily eyeing the hammocks.

“If you want,” Soir said with heavy disinterest.

“What’s wrong now?” Hades asked as his hooves skipped across a well worn cobbled path.

“Is… Is she dead too? Did your brother kill her? Because of me?” Soir pressed her ears flat against her head as she slid from Hades’ back and stretched her legs for the first time that day.

“She has not been destroyed, if that is your concern,” Hades remarked as he tried to settle his wings, only to find they were cramped and locked open. “Oh, bother,” he grumbled, attempting to force the offending appendages into a relaxed state.

“But, how do you know?” Soir began to pace in front of Hades, kicking a few stray stones out of her way. “A mountain was destroyed, surely—”

“If Faust’s physical shell and spirit had been destroyed, so too would have the entire valley, not just the top half of a mountain.” Hades shook his mane, gritting his teeth at the aching flight muscles. “Every living being would have felt her destruction, if such had happened.”

“Y-you’re sure?” Soir stopped in her pacing, looking up with pleading eyes.

“Our bodies and spirits —stupid wings, settle already— are extremely resilient. It takes —close, damn you— great effort to even harm us, let alone —blast it all— slay us.”

Soir gave Hades a deadpan stare. “You might be a bit more convincing if you weren’t struggling with wing-cramps.”

Pausing in his efforts, Hades frowned, before admitting, “Perhaps. But I did say resilient, not invulnerable.” At last his wings settled, the left one twitching a few times as the stiffness passed. “See, I’m already recovering. Would have taken a pegasus hours or days to recuperate from such a long flight. Especially since I’ve not flown much this past thousand years. We’re magical beings, Soir, but that doesn’t make us entirely immune to the wear and tear of our actions. We still need to eat and sleep, for instance.”

Beginning to trot towards the town, watching the occasional pegasus pass overhead, Hades continued. “Don’t worry for Faust. And don’t feel guilty.”

“But, if—”

“No! There is no ‘buts’ or ‘ifs’. You did nothing.” Hades slowed to give Soir a significant look, his eyes flashing with conviction. “The battle was their fault, not yours.”

Ears pressed flat, Soir said, “I still feel like it’s my fault. I’m cursed, I think. Everypony around me gets hurt or dies. If… If you stay with me, you will too. I know it.”

“Bah. I am the God of the Dead, Lord of Tartarus!” Hades puffed out his chest as they descended into the old volcano’s caldera. “I am a very hard pony to kill.” He gave Soir a wink. “Now, let’s find some food and a place to rest for the night.”

As she was trailing a few steps behind him, Hades didn’t see the pained wince Soir gave, nor heard her as she muttered, “I hope you're right, and I’m not a jinx.”

Chapter Nineteen: The Eyes of the Sun

Myths and Birthrights

By Tundara

Part Three: Ghosts of the North

Chapter Nineteen: The Eyes of the Sun

The Canterlot Express rattled its way down the Trottingham valley, a thin trail of puffy black clouds marking its progress towards the Heartlands. In a matter of hours the train would pull into Dodge Junction, and from there it would circle around the Canter mountains and Everfree forest before beginning the climb to Canterlot. The round-about route added an extra day to the journey, but all agreed it was better than cutting through the dangerous, monster-infested forest.

There was one pony aboard the train that was thankful for the extra time.

Shyara sat, alone and miserable, in a cabin under lock and guard. If one could consider an old conductor to be a ‘guard’, or the flimsy door and sliding bolt a ‘lock’. The truly grating part, to Shyara, was that both were more than effective at keeping her imprisoned. Head resting on folded hooves, Shyara glared daggers at the door as she had done since Duke Blueblood had marched her to the cabin and left her inside. The train car was empty now, except for her and the five mortals. Bonnie and Magnum’s cabin was beside Shyara, and from it she could hear the couple still arguing with Blueblood.

The exact words being exchanged eluded Shyara, not that they were all that important. They were all just variations on a singular theme of ‘how dare you?’.

A small knot of guilt twisted tightly in Shyara’s stomach as she thought about how she’d gotten the nice couple in trouble. She wished there was some way she could repay them for the kindness they’d shown her. Something other than getting them in trouble with the law. Though Shyara suspected that being in trouble with the law wasn’t new for either of them, especially Bonnie.

Her ear flicked as the train rattled through a tunnel, the cabin plunging into darkness for a long minute. As shadows filled her vision, Shyara caught a flicker of something out of the corner of her eye.

It was a door. A white door that shimmered like a band of moonlight across a pond as it was kissed by the faintest of breezes.

Startled, Shyara swung her head around to face the door. As she did, it vanished. Blinking and thinking it to be a trick of her guilty mind, Shyara returned to her brooding, only to catch sight of the door again. This time it was out of her other eye. Once more it disappeared when she attempted to get a better look.

Huffing, Shyara scowled straight ahead, not bothering to look when the door appeared for a third time, back in its original spot.

The train rolled clear of the tunnel, the cabin bathing in light and the door vanishing for good.

“Great, now I’m seeing things,” Shyara muttered to herself, closing her eyes and trying to get some rest.

Duke Blueblood poked his head into the cabin on several occasions, each time trying to draw more information out of Shyara. She refused to respond, or even look in his direction, stung to her depths by his betrayal. Shyara wasn’t all that certain why she should feel betrayed by the Duke. They’d only known each other for all of ten minutes before she’d been confined to the cabin. Yet, she couldn’t shake the sense that he had betrayed her in some unspoken manner.

Sleep did not come easy, her thoughts too tortured and scattered. When it did come, she found herself standing in an empty, bleak dreamscape.

Shyara’s dreams had never been all that unusual, filled with the normal things young fillies dreamed about; running, playing, leading the charge of ten thousand warriors into battle. All perfectly normal. Until the nightmares reliving the siege began.

Compared to revisiting that terrible night again, the emptiness was a relief.

The caw of a raven broke the desolation, infusing shape and form into the emptiness. Streaks of black and grey surged, like a painter applying ink to a blank canvas. Around Shayra a castle appeared; a stern faced keep with narrow windows and thick walls that seemed to glower down upon the filly. A thick, iron bound door sat before Shyara, the same door she’d seen in the train. A second raven cawed, followed by a third, then many, many more.

Flapping wings filled the dream. Turning her head, Shyara saw a swarm of ravens approaching until the dream-sky was black. In their talons they held rolled pieces of parchment bound by coloured string. Like a river of black feathers, the ravens dove down, swooping through the keep’s windows.

Tentatively, Shyara took a step towards the keep, only for the building to move away from her. Skipping, jumping, walking backwards, and even sitting still all produced the same result.

Crossing her hooves, Shyara said to herself, “I hate these dreams. Fine, I’ll just—”

A caw at her ear made Shyara leap straight up with a scream, landing in a tangle of hooves and wings. Around her came the shrill cry of the train’s brakes, making Shyara press her ears down while the train came to a gradual stop.

Cautiously, she cracked an eye open. Shyara wasn’t surprised when she was greeted by the stark cabin that had become her prison. She wasn’t even surprised to be laying on her back, one wing pinched painfully beneath her. The large raven sitting on the backrest of the bench Shyara had been sleeping on did come as a surprise, however. More surprising still was that it had two heads, both staring down at her with little, beady black eyes.

“Good, you’re awake.” The raven’s left head turned his beak up into a cheeky half-smile.

“Of course she’s awake, you screamed in her ear,” sneered the other head, this one rolling its eyes.

Frowning at the other head’s tone, the left head said, “Well, would you have rather waited until the train started up again? Sure, it makes a cutting figure, leaping from the moving train to the swelling of orchestral music, but it is highly impractical. Would you want the mistress to break a leg or wing?”

Shrugging one shoulder, the right head tilted his beak up into the air. “She’d mend.”

“Wait a moment.” Shyara scrambled to her hooves, wincing as her wing gave a little twinge. “Who are you? What are you?”

The two heads looked at each other, then fixed Shyara with a sharp gaze. “We are what’s known as a Hemmravn. We’re here to assist you, mistress.”

“How? And what is a ‘hemmravn’?”

“We are—,” the right head began to speak, only to be interrupted by the other saying, “No time for explanations. We need to get the mistress moving!”

“Yes, yes, of course,” huffed the hemmravn, flapping up to the luggage rack. With its clawed feet, the hemmravn pulled down Shyara’s saddlebags, dropping them at the stunned alicorn’s hooves. The hemmravn then settled next to the cabin’s window; its locked and closed window.

“And how am I supposed to get out of here?” Shyara asked as she slipped on her saddlebags. “They’ve magically locked the window and door.”

Rolling his eyes, the left head said around a chortle, “You are the Goddess of Secrets, mistress of the shadows and hidden things, guide of thieves, tricksters, and sages. I think you’ll find it easy to circumvent a lock. Even a magical one.”

Shyara started to protest, but the heavy hoofsteps of ponies in the small walkway outside made her clamp her mouth shut. Through the thin door she could hear Blueblood talking to Bonnie and Magnum.

“Remember, not a word of who you encountered to anypony,” Blueblood said, his voice low and threatening.

“I’m not afraid of a puffed up—” Bonnie snarled back, only to be cut off by Magnum saying, “Love, calm yourself. Nothing can be done for the little filly now. I’m sure His Grace is as concerned for her safety as we are. Besides, this train’s bound for Canterlot, with Celestia, Luna, and more. Trying to pull a fast one under their noses would be the height of foalishness.”

There was a pause, presumably while Bonnie calmed herself.

A little whisper, one meant only for Magnum, made Shyara’s ears perk forward as she pressed her head against the door.

“I have my boarding cutlass in my dunnage… It wouldn’t take much to liberate ‘Shy Spell’ from her prison.”

“As much as I’d love to see you clobber that…” The rest of Magnum’s words were lost as the pair moved out of the train car.

Shyara sat transfixed, ear still pressed to the warm wood, her mind swirling. They had left her. They hadn’t even tried to rescue her. She had felt certain that they would at least try. Not that the attempt would have amounted to much. Even if they got her off the train, Blueblood and the train staff would know the couple had her, and where to find them.

No, she was going to have to rely on herself, as she had after Trixie was left behind.

She couldn’t go to Canterlot, not now. Shyara needed time to figure things out. She needed to understand her role and place in the world. She needed to get off this train.

“Okay, let’s go,” Shyara said, moving up to the hemmravn.

Hopping aside, the hemmravn watched silently as Shyara inspected the latch on the window. Narrowing her eyes, she tried to just will it open. When that didn’t work, she grabbed it with her magic and attempted to wrench it off its frame with no more success. Taking a deep breath, and calming a twitch in her brow, Shyara meditated on opening the lock.

Her heart settled into an even rhythm. The cabin seemed to shrink, the hemmravn vanishing, the happy voices outside on the platform drifting away, and the rattle of luggage being loaded and unloaded turning into a dull hum.

Shyara had always been told that magic was as much instinctual as it was learned. That once she found her domain she’d understand in moments nuances and spellwork that ordinary mortals would spend decades researching.

Apparently, she’d been lied to.

“Gah! It’s no use.” Shyara slumped down in defeat. “I can’t open this lock.”

“Sure you can,” said head number two, “but if you need a hint; use a Chaos rune.”

Shyara started to ask what a ‘chaos rune’ was, when it struck her. An oddly shaped rune, non-uniform and slanted, supporting Qwi and Hulluc, the latter two intertwined. The spell was so simple, Shyara slapped a hoof to her face for not seeing it sooner.

For the first time in her eighty five years, Shyara cast a proper spell. White-grey magic coursed along her horn, extending out to the window. There was a moment of resistance as her spell met the enchantment left by Blueblood, then the latch sprung open. Carefully, Shyara lifted the window, checking to make certain no pony was looking her direction before slipping out onto the platform.

Her rump had barely hit the wooden boards before the train’s whistle sounded and the conductor gave the cry of, “All aboard!”

Keeping low, only a very sparse crowd remaining, Shyara scooted to a shadowy alcove in a corner. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she felt certain that at any moment Blueblood would come racing off the train shouting her name. But he did not, the train pulling out of the station and heading towards a distant mountain without incident.

Slowly, a victorious smile etched the corners of Shyara’s lips upwards.

She’d done it. On her own with no mortals or even other goddesses for help. She’d even used her first spell. Shyara could hardly hold back a bubbling squeal of delight as she turned to the hemmravn. As she moved her head, she caught sight of a flowing sweep of the night sky in the bright morning light. She saw it for only a moment before whatever she’d seen was gone. The moment was all Shyara needed to know what she’d seen; the mane or tail of a Night Goddess. Her good mood was immediately lost, dampened as memories of the Citadel of Light surged forwards.

“Nyx?” Shyara mouthed the name as she shuffled along the wall. Shyara managed to slip past the few remaining ponies on the platform to peak around the corner and see a pony remarkably similar to her grandmother trotting along the street. With her were Bonnie, Magnum, and three fillies. Three very familiar fillies.

“That’s impossible,” Shyara hissed, squinting at the fillies, then back to the pony that had to be Princess Luna.

“Not impossible, a coincidence,” came the hemmravn’s left head as the bird landed on Shyara, his little clawed toes digging into her back.

“Mother said that coincidences were the Fates playing games. The more striking the coincidence, the greater their hoof in setting it up,” Shyara said, shrinking back around the corner. Luna paused mid-step, glancing back over her withers towards the train station, a befuddled expression on the princess’ face.

“Do you believe that?” asked the right head.

“I’m… not sure. How is it possible for them to have had a hoof in that?” Shyara waved a hoof at the fillies and Luna as the group rounded a corner and disappeared. “They all look so much like… them. Like my family. Like grandmother and the Muses. But they can’t be them.”

“Not completely like them though,” noted the left head.

“What do you mean?” Shyara turned to look back at the hemmravn.

Both beaks broke into wide grins. “We hemmravn are your collectors. The finders of secrets. We hear things.”

Huffing a little at the partial answer, Shyara pulled one of her vests out of her saddlebags. The soft, velveteen fabric and the illusion enchantments were soothing against Shyara’s coat. “Come on,” she muttered as she stood up and trotted out of the shadows, “we need to find a place to hide, and you need to —finally— give me some explanations.”

“We have the perfect place,” both heads said together. The left then added, “Quiet, discreet and out of the way,” while the second said, “warm in the evening and cool in the day, with a soft bed and all the things you’ll need.”

“Sounds good. Where is it?”

“This way, follow us!” cawed the hemmravn, taking wing and flying off just above the heads of ponies.

None of the townsfolk took notice of the bird as it zipped and dived through the growing morning. Only a few took note of Shyara, but as school had let out the previous day for the summer, no pony thought anything of the lone filly.

“They can’t see you, can they?” Shyara asked as they left the town proper and entered an apple orchard.

“We are invisible to most.” The hemmravn shrugged his wings as he alighted on the branch of an old apple tree. “Here we are.”

Shyara tilted her head as she looked past the hemmravn to a squat, boxxy tree-home. A simple ramp lead up to a pink door with a heart shaped hole in the top half. Suppressing a grimace, Shyara placed a tentative hoof on the ramp, retracting it as the wood groaned.

“This is your hiding spot? This looks like it was made by a one hoofed, one eyed earth pony.”

“Earth ponies did make this place, yes. But it is a secret place.” The hemmravn’s left head bobbed a few times. “It will keep you safe; we guarantee it.”

“If you say so.” Shyara gave the ramp another dubious glance, before slowly making her way up towards the door and landing.

Every time the ramp creaked she jumped; one particularly loud protest from the wood making her scramble the rest of the way. Taking a moment to let her heart settle, Shyara inspected the house’s exterior. Unlike the ramp, the house itself seemed to be in decent repair. The paint was a little faded, and the door’s hinges moaned when she pushed it open, but otherwise it seemed sturdy and loved.

Inside, it was like an arts and crafts shop had exploded. Glitter, paper and fabric scraps, and open bottles of glue dominated one corner, while another was plastered in posters of a rainbow lightning bolt over a blue background. In one corner was a short table with three chairs around it. A lectern was shoved close to the wall, more of the rainbow lightning bolts covering every inch of its surface. Along a wall were three little beds; one a mesh hammock, one a plain wooden frame, and the final one a small canopy bed. None of the beds looked to have been used recently.

“This is… not bad,” Shyara admitted, shrugging off her saddlebags next to the canopy bed.

“See, we told you.” The hemmravn’s heads smiled.

Shyara’s ears quirked before more could be said, the faintest hint of a voice tickling her senses. Through the orchard came a trio of voices, echoing from tree to tree. Shyara couldn’t fully make out the words, but the way they were growing in volume set her teeth on edge. Chewing on the corner of her cheek, she slid to a window, peeking down from a corner.

Shyara knew she shouldn’t have been surprised when she saw the three fillies from the train station approaching.

“I thought you said this place was a secret!” Shyara hissed as she scrambled to find a hiding spot.

She thought about hiding under one of the beds, but the frames were too low. Instead she quickly shoved her saddlebags out of sight before leaping behind the lectern.

“Come on, Apple Bloom, you must have some good ideas about what to do for the talent show. What about asking Zecora? She’s been teaching you all that neat potion stuff. Can we use that?” came a scratchy voice, the door groaning on its hinges as it was pushed open.

“You’ve asked me a dozen times, Scootaloo, and the answer’s the same. I ain’t supposed to play around with potions on my own, yet,” spoke a second voice, making Shyara press herself lower behind the lectern.

“Well, I think that is stupid and boring. Dash is always telling me to practice on my own and try harder,” said an orange pegasus as she crossed in front of Shyara’s hiding place. She began to rummage through a small chest next to the lectern, still talking away. “You heard what Diamond and Silver said! I want our show to stomp their smug muzzles into the mud this year.”

From near the window, the third filly said, “You say that every year, Scootaloo, and every year we just make a spectacle of ourselves.”

“Specta-what?”

“Foals. Idiots. Like we don’t know what we’re doing!”

Scootaloo shrugged, pulling out of the box a thin book with a brightly coloured cover. Shyara had seen such books before while traveling with Trixie. Comics, they were called. Shyara had asked Trixie if she could get one, only to be told they were ‘trashy rags unworthy to be read by ponies of our greatness’. Shyara gave the comic a longing look before having to duck back behind her hiding place as Apple Bloom approached the table and took a seat.

“We kind of do that all the time though, Sweetie, if you haven’t noticed,” Scootaloo snorted before climbing into the hammock.

Silently, Shyara gave the hemmravn —the bird having taken a perch on the back of a chair— a scathing look that said, ‘if we get out of this, you’re in so much trouble.’

“Come on Bloom, there must be something cool and awesome in her hut!” said Scootaloo, rocking her hammock by fluttering her wings. “What do you think, Sweetie?”

“I think it doesn’t matter,” Sweetie muttered.

Peaking around the crate, Shyara stared at the three fillies. Scootaloo had her nose buried within the comic’s pages. Sweetie sat staring out the window, her chin rested on her hoof and her eyes glazed over as she stared into the distance. Apple Bloom was sitting at the table, her brow pinched together as she looked at the hemmravn, a little frown in the corner of her muzzle.

Shyara couldn’t believe how similar the three looked to the Muses.

Scootaloo was a dead-ringer for Melete. She had the same feisty fire burning in her eyes, and the same harsh, almost clipped method of talking. Her mane was just cut shorter and her coat was messy, as if she had an aversion to clean water. Melete was far too fussy to ever let her coat reach such a state.

Sweetie looked almost identical to Aoide, and her voice had the same lilt. Except Sweetie’s mane went pink to lavender, where Aoide’s was the other way around.

Apple Bloom and Mneme would have been impossible to tell apart if the two had sat side-by-side. What separated them was Apple Bloom’s accent. Shyara had heard the soft drawl and inflection that some of the earth ponies used, and she found it actually rather nice. But it was weird hearing it out of what seemed to be her cousin’s mouth. Apple Bloom also had a friendlier, more open air about her than Mneme.

They were also very clearly not alicorns.

Apple Bloom turned towards her hiding spot, making Shyara duck deeper into the shadows. Her heart hammered in her throat as Apple Bloom scootched her chair closer to the one upon which the hemmravn still sat, a bemused expression on both of his faces.

“So, what are you?” Apple Bloom asked, making the hemmravn give out a little squawk before falling off his perch, wings cartwheeling as he fell. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“You can see us?” both heads yelped as the bird hopped back onto his feet.

Shyara slapped a hoof to her face as Apple Bloom repeated ‘us’ before looking around. Apple Bloom spotted Shyara almost immediately.

“Hey, who are you talking to, Bloom?” Scootaloo asked, peering over her comic.

“There’s a filly hiding behind that box,” Apple Bloom stated with a pointed hoof.

With a resigned sigh, Shyara slowly stood from behind the crate. Sweetie hardly looked over while Scoots launched herself out of her hammock and zipped across the small room, pressing her face into Shyara’s.

“Hey! Who are you? What are you doing here? You a spy? Huh?”

Scootaloo’s purple eyes bored into Shyara as she pressed forwards.

“My name is Shyara! I am trying to find a safe place to figure things out! I’m not a spy!”

The answers tumbled from Shyara faster than the questions had from Scootaloo, making the latter pause and raise a surprised brow. A moment later the little pegasus gave a yelp as Apple Bloom bit her tail and pulled her away from Shyara.

“Scootaloo, be nice,” Apple Bloom snapped, adding a light blow on the back of her friends head. Turning to Shyara, Apple Bloom extended a friendly hoof. “Sorry about her, she’s rather… intense.”

“It’s okay… I was hiding in your… what is this?” Shyara asked, looking around the eccentric building.

“This is the Cutie Mark Crusader Fortress of Badflankitude!” Scootaloo said, her little wings buzzing to carry her up, one hoof thrust above her triumphantly.

“We told you that it’s a Club House,” Sweetie grumbled. The unicorn remained in the same spot, still with her chin on her hoof, though she now watched her two friends and Shyara.

Shrugging, Scootaloo said, “Yeah, yeah, but my name is cooler.”

Pointing to the hemmravn, Apple Bloom asked, “Is that your companion spirit?”

“Her what?” Scootaloo tilted her head, glancing to the indicated spot. She didn’t react as the hemmravn puffed out his feathers before flapping back up to the chair.

“She’s got a… um… two-headed bird with her,” Apple Bloom partially explained.

“He’s called a hemmravn, and you can see him? None of the other townsfolk seemed to see him.”

Blushing a little, Apple Bloom rubbed the back of her head. “Well, it’s probably because I’ve been learning to see spirits and stuff from Zecora.”

“See! Cool stuff!” Scootaloo threw up her hooves before stomping back to her hammock.

Shooting a dark glare after her friend before returning her attention to Shyara, Apple Bloom said, “So, you said your name is Shyara? Why you hiding out here? Ain’t your parents going to be worried about you? Actually… now that I think about it, I ain’t never seen you around Ponyville before. You new?”

“Yes, my name is Shyara. I’m hiding out here because I’m afraid Celestia will blast me with fire when she sees me. My parents are either shades or they don’t care about me. Yes, I’m new to town.” Shyara had to take in several breaths after the tumble of answers. Pressing her ears back, she looked at the hemmravn. “Why do I keep answering like that?”

The bird chortled, the left head saying, “Probably something to do with you having to share secrets if asked and you know the answer. I’m just making a guess, though.”

“What?” Shyara yelped, tossing up her hooves as a low, frustrated growl worked its way through her throat. “So I have to tell the truth all the time? I thought I was the Goddess of Secrets, not… Oh, Hemera.”

Not even bothering to suppress a groan, Shyara’s hoof again slapped into her face.

“You’re one of them. One of the alicorns from that other world, or wherever it is your from.” Sweetie had a dangerous edge to her voice as she finally pushed herself away from the window and advanced towards Shyara, her green eyes narrowing until they were like daggers. “Why can’t you leave us alone? Why did you ponies have to take my sister away from me?”

Feeling the blood drain from her face, Shyara shuffled away from Sweetie’s wrath.

“I’m from Gaea, yes,” Shyara confirmed, swallowing a growing lump of dread. “But I don’t know what you’re talking about… except… are you… is Rarity your sister?”

Sweetie snapped up straight as if she’d been struck.

“How do you…?”

“I met her!” Shyara clapped her hooves together, relief making her smile as little pieces of a grand puzzle began to fall into place.

“Wait, but you said that you’re new to Ponyville.” Scootaloo left her hammock again, stepping up beside Sweetie and joining her friend in giving Shyara a suspicious glower.

“I am.” Shyara bobbed her head a few times.

“Hey, we can’t trust her!” Sweetie growled, shooting her frightful look at her friends. “She’s one of them. Look at Tyr and the weird, crazy stuff she talked about. Or what happened to Fluttershy. Every time one of them gets involved bad stuff happens to us regular ponies,” Sweetie spat, thrusting an accusing hoof at Shyara.

Pressing her ears back, Shyara turned away from the accusatory and angry look.

“No! I don’t mean anypony any harm, honest,” Shyara quickly said. “I just want to figure out who I am and my Domain, that’s all. I’ll even help, if I can. I’ll tell you everything I know about Rarity. Just don’t tell anypony where I am. Please.”

“We’ll think about it. Right Sweetie? Bloom?” Scootaloo gave her friends a quick glance and received confirming nods, though it took Sweetie a few moments to give her consent.

Figuring it was as good as she was going to get, Shyara explained —in frightening detail— about meeting Rarity in the ruins of the Citadel of Light and the following encounter with Great Aunt Aphrodite. By the end of the little story, Sweetie had grown pale beneath her off-white coat, Scootaloo was gushing about daimons, and Apple Bloom was chewing on her lower lip pensively.

“My sister’s okay?” Sweetie asked as the story concluded, falling onto her rump with a soft ‘flump’.

“Well, yes, I guess.” Shyara rubbed her chin as she thought. “Or she will be, probably. Maybe. Okay, I don’t know.”

“It sounds like what happened with Fluttershy, sort of,” Apple Bloom mused.

A low, bubbling laugh rocked Scootaloo, the pegasus wearing a grin wide enough to swallow a train.

“What are you smiling about, Scoots?” Apple Bloom asked.

“I’m just happy to have been involved this time.” Scootaloo smiled wider, head held high and her hooves skipping on the spot like she was about to run or dance. Spinning around to face Apple Bloom, Scootaloo’s tail knocked over a small lamp. “I’ve missed every other time one of them showed up. And her story was so awesome! With giant demons, and explosions and swords and magic!”

Hopping up onto her back hooves, Scootaloo shadow-boxed the air.

“We told you, Scoots, you only missed out on scary stuff.” Apple Bloom rolled her eyes.

“You mean cool stuff!” Scootaloo gushed.

“Trust me, it wasn’t ‘cool’ seeing my sister go all crazy,” Sweetie snapped.

Scootaloo pressed her ears back, a few apologies sputtering past her lips as she dropped back to her hooves.

“So, do you believe me? Will you let me stay here and figure things out? Please?” Shyara pressed her hooves together, giving the Cutie Mark Crusaders the biggest, saddest eyes she could. The look would have been far more effective if they hadn’t been fillies, and masters of it themselves.

Still laughing, Scootaloo gave Shyara a little shove, saying, “Fine, you can stay here.” Turning to retrieve her comic, she added, “And we won't tell the adults about you either if you help us with our Summer Sun Talent Show.”

“Wait, what? You want her help? We don’t even hardly know her, Scoots,” Apple Bloom protested, giving Shyara a slightly apologetic look.

“Yeah, but she’s an alicorn. And she said she was Secrets. Think of all the cool stuff she will be able to show us for the show!”

Taking her turn to roll her eyes, Sweetie said, “I doubt there is anything she can do to help us Scoots. She’s hiding in our clubhouse, for Celestia’s sake.”

Shyara felt the need to protest and defend her status as the Goddess of Secrets, but she knew Sweetie was right. She didn’t know anything. Only that she was an Intangible —what else could she be?— and that she needed to figure out just how her domain worked. All she had so far was that she was compelled to answer questions to the best of her ability and she knew a spell for opening locks. Neither of which were very useful in setting up a talent show.

Looking between the three friends, Shyara didn’t know what to do to help them with a talent show.

It was then a bolt of inspiration struck Shyara.

Around Sweetie, Shyara could see a flickering cloud, and within it hundreds or even thousands of secrets. Small things and big things alike. The time Sweetie had accidently spilled one of her sisters rare wines, and replaced it with grape juice. When Sweetie was told that her grandmother had been a jewel thief, and even once stolen Celestia’s crown for a single night on a dare. Shyara could see all Sweetie’s secrets laid bare before her, but the one that really drew her attention was the one closest to Sweetie’s core.

“I had a… friend, who was a stage magician. Putting on shows for villages and towns as we travelled. She taught me a lot about what makes a good performance and what doesn’t,” Shyara said, a surge of confidence flowing through her. “Sweetie, you’re pretty good at singing, right?”

A faint blush touching her cheeks, Sweetie tilted her head saying, “I’m okay, I guess.”

Clapping her hooves together, and delighted to have uncovered another aspect of her Domain, Shyara said, “Okay, I think I have an idea for this talent show.”

* * *

With a low groan, Tyr collapsed backwards off her bench and onto the floor. Her horn felt sore, her nose was running —again— and the math problems she’d been working on steadfastly refused to release their answers to her. At least the low ‘tsk’ of annoyance from her math tutor, one Miss Division, told Tyr she wasn’t the only pony exasperated.

“You’ll never get the answers if you lay on the floor,” came Miss Division’s sharp voice, followed by the whap of her metre-stick on the blackboard.

“Maybe I will. Maybe the answers will float down on father’s wings, a golden halo of light showing, for all the worlds, that this is the answer to… whatever that is.” Tyr thrust a hoof at the math problem to the accompaniment of a sigh from Miss Division.

“Your father is a unicorn, Lady Tyr, not a pegasus. And it’s just simple trigonometry. Hardly anything to make a fuss about.”

“My foster-father is a unicorn,” Tyr corrected in a dull voice, her hoof returning to the floor beside her with a soft ‘whap’. “Also, the pony who invented trigonometry is evil. A regular daimon of misfortune. He’s lucky he died centuries ago…” Tyr let the threat hang as she rolled back to her hooves, placing her chin on the small desk she used for homework and tutoring.

Miss Division sat on the other side, her periwinkle and gold mane pulled up into a sharp bun. Small glasses were perched on the tip of her nose, making her already large seafoam green eyes look absolutely enormous. Tyr had to suppress a little giggle as the tan unicorn pushed the glasses back up her nose and tried to again run through methodology to answer the math problem on the board beside her.

It was futile however. Tyr’s attention could not be held for more than a few moments —the margins of her worksheet were filled with doodles of ponies in strange armour fighting— before it was again lost. Miss Division persisted, however, trying every trick and tool she knew to get Tyr interested in math. Alas, her prescribed task was impossible. The beleaguered math tutor would have had more success scaling the Canterhorn blind-folded.

The final blow came as the door opened and Princess Cadence came trotting inside followed by an attendant carrying a tray of steaming tea, biscuits, and little sandwiches.

“How’s she been doing?” Cadence asked while instructing the attendant to leave the tray on a side table.

“Poorly, your Highness,” Miss Division admitted, her ears flattening. “I’ve tried everything to make lady Tyr apply herself, but it’s no good. She’s more determined to fight me than work.”

Clicking her tongue, Cadence walked around the desk to look at Tyr’s worksheet. Tyr could feel her foster mother’s disapproval deepen as Cadence came to a stop behind her.

“It’s not my fault! Math is so… boring!” Tyr protested, waving her hooves in the air.

“Mmm Hmm,” was all the response Tyr received, making her shrink down on her bench. A hoof reached over her shoulder, pointing at the doodles. “What’s this?”

“Um, a recreation of the second Battle of Cannae?” Tyr offered, giving Cadence a sheepish smile.

“It’s… interesting,” Cadence said, getting a look at a stick figure that seemed to be in the process of stabbing another stick figure with several spears. “But not math,” she added.

“I again point to math’s inherent dull-ness.” Tyr wanted to add more, but a knock on the door interrupted her before she could come up with a suitably witty conclusion.

At Cadence’s beckoning, the door was pushed open by a guard. This particular guard had become very familiar to Tyr over the past few weeks as he had been assigned to watch over her whenever she was out of the palace. To her eternal embarrassment he even stood outside her classroom when she was at Canterlot Preparatory School for Gifted Unicorns. Tyr received a generous amount of teasing over his presence from the other fillies.

“Sorry to intrude, ma’am, but Princess Celestia has requested Lady Tyr see her in her office,” the guard said, snapping off a brisk salute.

Frowning a little, Cadence gave a slight nod to the guard. “Very well,” she said. To Miss Division she then added, “You have been a great help, Miss Division.”

“Thank you, your Highness. When she applies herself, she has a sharp mind. Lady Tyr is just easily distracted.” Miss Division bowed before slipping out of the room.

Giving the tray a resigned look, Cadence grabbed a couple of the zucchini and mustard sandwiches, passing them to Tyr. “Well, I guess we’ll have to have tea after court.”

Stuffing both sandwiches in her face, Tyr could only nod as she happily made her way out of her chambers and into the wide hallway.

Shaking her head, Cadence turned to the guard, asking, “Do you have foals, Flash?”

“Me, ma’am? Oh, no, I’m not even married yet,” he gave a half-shake of his head. Tyr paused on the far side of the door, leaning in to listen. “Ma’am, if you’ll permit me…” A pause, presumably as Cadence motioned for him to continue. “Why is it you’ve never had a foal? It’s always just struck me as odd, you being such a source of love.”

Tyr craned in closer to the door, her own interest peaked.

“That’s very private, Guardspony,” Cadence replied, her voice carrying a frigid bite. “But… I suppose it is because I’ve been afraid.”

“My apologies, ma’am. I shouldn’t have asked. It was just something that had bothered me more since being assigned to watch lady Tyr. The way you look at her when you think she won’t notice… Sorry, I’m speaking out of turn again.” There was the shuffle of hooves and armour as the guard bowed, making Tyr shrink back from the door.

A moment later Flash stepped into the hallway, the door closing behind him.

“So, do you know why my Aunt Celestia wants to see me?” Tyr asked, her tone and big eyes oozing innocence.

“I’m not at liberty to say, my lady,” Flash said, his eyes straight ahead as he lead the way towards Celestia’s private study.

“So, you know then.” Tyr skipped along beside her guard, a smug little grin on her face as the palace staff stepped aside to let them pass. “Which means it can’t be serious, or Aunt Celestia wouldn’t have said anything where the guards could hear.”

“That is very difficult,” Flash snorted.

“You can see and hear beyond the wards on Celestia’s chambers?” Tyr tilted her head a little, letting Flash see a glint of bemused humour in her eyes. She always enjoyed teasing and prodding her personal guard.

Releasing a low sigh, Flash said nothing.

“Nah, it’s okay. You’re all just for show anyways,” Tyr shrugged. “I mean, if something could hurt a Goddess, what hope would any ordinary pony have?”

Flash didn’t respond to the barb. He never had, taking the tact of calm stoicism over playing into Tyr’s hooves and validating her games. Tyr was a little surprised that she’d managed to draw as much as she had out of the guard. As usual, Tyr grew bored with trying to tease her supposed protector, and instead focused on the walk.

It wasn’t too long before they reached Celestia’s study and Tyr stepped inside, alone.

Celestia sat behind her desk, but the usual stacks of documents were missing. Instead there were two pots of tea, and a plate of biscuits. A peculiar, spicy scent wafted past Tyr’s nose, making her ears perk up and mouth water.

“Is that acai berry tea?” she quickly asked, jumping onto a plush seat. Receiving a slight nod, Tyr then asked a quick follow-up question. “Does this mean granny Luna is back?”

“She is not, I’m afraid,” Celestia said.

“Oh.” Tyr felt a little flutter of happiness retreat.

“It’s for you. Luna said that you like it as much as she does,” Celestia said as she poured a cup.

Taking the tea, and a healthy number of biscuits, Tyr mumbled that she did like the flavour.

“The reason I asked you here is because I have some difficult news to share,” Celestia began, lifting her own tea in her golden magic. “It’s about your… birth family.”

The happiness didn’t just retreat, it drained completely away, leaving her ears and tail wilted. Over the past few months Tyr had been left mostly alone about her birth herd by her foster family. After her initial confusion, Tyr hardly spoke about those she had left behind. This was in part because the memories of the Citadel of Light were too painful to recall, and the remainder a desire to protect those that might have followed her to Ioka. The number of coincidences in appearance and personality had only further cemented her conviction to remain silent unless absolutely necessary.

That wasn’t to say she hadn’t let little tidbits of information slip over the months. Some were harmless, like telling stories about her distant cousin Dionysus and his ‘parties’. Others Tyr kicked herself over, like the story of Hemera she’d told when she was first found. A few she had only begrudgingly spoken about, like after over-hearing Cadence telling Shining about Fleur’s ‘condition’.

Tyr still had trouble believing her sister had broken the taboo of stealing a mortal soul’s existence in order to regain her physical form. But Tyr had often erred when it came to Athena and what actions her older sister was willing to take to achieve her goals. The same could be said for the other self-styled Alicorns of Light. As Tyr looked back on Gaea and her relatives' histories, she found it harder and harder to justify their actions. Things that had seemed right and proper on Gaea now looked brutish and terrible.

Celestia would never hang a pony by his own innards day after day as Hemera had done.

Shuddering at the mental image, Tyr wondered if the peace and harmony of Equestria was making her soft, and if it were, if such an outcome was a bad thing.

Breaking herself from her ruminations, Tyr looked up and said, “They were my family. But, you’re my family now. You, Grannies Luna, Velvet, Glitter and Whisper, Father and Mother, even Twilight. Though she doesn’t seem to know how to act around me… You’ve all been more family in these past few months than my birth family ever were.” The words tasted bitter on Tyr’s tongue as she spoke. “If Aphrodite saw me like this,” Tyr gestured at her wingless back, “being disowned by her would be the least of my worries. And she’s supposed to be the Goddess of Love! And my mother!”

Tyr could feel bitter, angry tears sting her eyes as her thoughts went to dark, hurt places. For once she didn’t mind or berate herself for shedding tears over something as insignificant as resentment. Other than her cousins, Tyr hardly saw anything of her family before the war. Aphrodite or Apollo would take her on occasion to their temples to show her off to their adoring followers. That happened once or twice a year. Tyr’s heart squeezed tight as she realised she’d seen more of her foster mother over the past few months than she had of her real mother in the last decade.

“I used to always be looking out for what game you or the others were playing. I thought if I played along, I could find it and thwart it, somehow.” Tyr rubbed the tears from her eyes, looking up to find Celestia watching her with a concerned expression.

It was one of the small things Tyr liked about Celestia, how she let herself show emotion in private, and only around family. Celestia didn’t wear her emotions on her withers even then, but they were truer for being reserved for only those she cared about.

Pushing her teacup around, Tyr tried to complete the release of her pent-up thoughts.

“When I was really sick… after you took away my wings and lustre… I heard you and Mother speaking. I’m still a foal, but I’m not stupid. As angry and afraid of you as I wanted to be… The way you spoke… And then, after I snuck off to Notra-Dame de la Chanson… I thought for sure I was going to get punished. But, instead, you were all so relieved… It’s all...”

Tyr shook her head, her words becoming stuck in her throat.

“I know,” Celestia said, stepping around the desk to sit beside Tyr and wrap a wing about her. “We’ve never really talked, have we.”

It was a statement, one of regret, rather than a question. Tyr remained quiet, continuing to rub her face as Celestia spoke.

“What I did to you was wrong. The fostering ritual was meant for newborns. When I saw you in that bed, last spring, Velvet telling that preposterous story, I thought I’d killed you. Then when you disappeared and we couldn’t find you anywhere in the palace grounds...” Tyr was pulled tighter against Celestia’s side. “I thought I’d let another foal down. Just as I had with Namyra.”

“I’ve heard her name mentioned a few times. Who was she?”

Celestia took a few moments before she replied. Tyr held her breath as she waited for Celestia to continue, the office suddenly quiet, as if it too was hanging on the princess' words.

“Another time, perhaps,” Celestia said, her voice a faint whisper. “The blame for her fate is mine alone. And yet the punishment fell to those around me. I have been so blind, Tyr, and I fail, time and again, to learn from my mistakes.”

Getting up, Celestia went to a cabinet at the back of the room. Inside it were dozens of boxes, and though she had lost her alicorn senses, Tyr could feel the tingle of powerful enchantments whisper through the air in the few moments the cabinet was open. From the top shelf Celestia took a box, closing the cabinet afterwards. Once she was sitting beside Tyr again, Celestia undid the many locks and wards. Opening the lid, Tyr saw sitting atop a faded velvet cushion a single crystal tear. The tears were so rare and precious—as well as dangerous, but the potential benefits so greatly outweighed the negatives—that show them to another alicorn, no matter how close, was all but unthinkable.

Lifting up the last tear, Celestia passed it to Tyr.

“I think you should have this,” Celestia said, tapping beside the tear. "It is the tear I shed the night I met Twilight. This is a tear of hope."

Taking the small, golden crystal in her hooves, Tyr didn’t know what to say. Alicorns on Gaea never gave their tears away, too afraid of what they could be used to do.

“T-Thank you! I’ll guard and treasure it, forever,” Tyr managed to say, holding the gift close to her breast.

“Now, I should tell you what’s happened the last few weeks,” Celestia said, her tone becoming a bit more business-like.

For the next half hour, Tyr sat in silence as Celestia informed her about what fates had befallen those that had followed her from Gaea. Shyara’s disappearance from the train didn’t surprise Tyr. Neither did learning Artemis had exchanged her divinity for a mortal’s mortality. Artemis had been a rather strange alicorn, after all. It was hearing about Faust that surprised Tyr. She found it hard to believe that an alicorn could be ‘lost’ for the better part of two thousand years. More so after having met Faust, albeit briefly.

By the end, Tyr felt a little drained, but also better. She was certain Celestia felt the same way, judging by the look in the corner of one eye.

“You took that rather well,” Celestia admitted, nibbling on the edge of a biscuit.

“Well, after learning about my sister and how she broke the taboo, I’m mostly thankful that at least a few of my old family had some sense.” Tyr swirled her cold tea in its cup, watching the dark pink liquid almost dispassionately.

“That’s something,” Celestia said softly. “It’s just about time for Daycourt. Do you want to sit with me again, or would you rather help Cadence organize?”

“Huh? What’s mother organizing?”

Celestia tilted a brow. “Why, her return to the Crystal City for the Crystal Fair and opening of the House of Ladies.”

“Oh!” Tyr twisted around to look at the door. She had known about the Crystal City and that Cadence, and naturally her herd, would be travelling to it soon, but hadn’t realised it’d be so soon. Tyr wondered idly for a half-moment if any of her new family would be coming as well. “I think I’d rather sit in court, if I’m going to be in the Crystal City until the autumn.”

“Very good,” Celestia smiled.

Chronicle and a few other aides stood waiting in the hallway for Celestia, bowing as the pair emerged before swarming Celestia with bits of information on who she could expect at court that day. It was far less than usual.

* * *

Today was a good day.

Celestia had known it when she raised the sun that morning. She and Luna listened intently to Twilight’s gushing about runes, lensing, and the evolution of spell formulas. Twilight had been so excited she’d almost forgotten to put the stars to sleep.

The long overdue conversation with Tyr had likewise, while more draining than battling a dragon, left Celestia feeling lighter on her hooves than she had in years. She often forgot how good it was to share.

Daycourt had started pleasantly. With the Summer Sun Celebration just five days away, the court was fairly inactive. Ponies were too busy getting ready or traveling. Trottingham had been selected to host this year’s official celebration, and the nobility and gentry were descending on the town in droves, booking hotel rooms or staying with friends and relatives. Celestia would only be in the town just long enough to attend the functions she had to, before she’d return to Canterlot.

Free of the nobles’ bickering, the Daycourt’s petitioners were all decent, hard-working ponies.

That wasn’t to say Daycourt was empty. The throne room was packed, but there wasn’t a monocle, top-hat, or bonnet in sight. While the crowd wore its Sunday best, that amounted to little more than vests for the stallions and plain dresses for the mares. They also gave the national anthem a full, almost exuberant, turn. Everypony present was simply delighted to see the Princess on the last Sunday before the beginning of the festivals and fairs.

Celestia was in such a buoyant mood she didn’t hide behind her mask of serenity —how that word now rankled her— as she waited for the first petitioner to be called.

Blessed Harmony’s name rang through the hall, carried by Chronicle’s practiced voice. Celestia was curious why the Revered Mother was at court. The sisterhood almost never directly approached the Sun. The priestess smiled as her name was called, and she stepped forward, her robes rustling a little in the sudden stillness of the throne room. In addition to her robes, the sister wore a pair of saddlebags bulging with scrolls and other objects.

“Your most Divine Highness,” Blessed began, bowing so her nose was pressed to the floor. “I, and all the Sisterhood, extend you our most humble gratitude for taking the time to listen to us. I come before you this day to request the crown’s permission to begin construction of Notre-Dame de la Etoiles on the site of the Stars’ ascension.”

“‘Our Lady of the Stars’,” Celestia rolled the translation in her mouth, a hint of a smile touching the corners of her eyes. “You wish to build a temple in Ponyville.”

“Yes.” Blessed gave her head a vigorous nod as she pulled out one of the scrolls from her bags.

As the priestess laid out the scroll, architectural plans and designs covering the entire surface, Celestia asked, “But why come to me? Shouldn’t you ask Twilight if she wants a temple built for her?”

“You don’t ask permission to give a pony a gift, do you?” Blessed smirked as she placed a gemstone upon the plans.

“Typically you don’t also make them a building to worship them in, either.” Celestia stepped down from her throne as she spoke, her smile growing and Tyr following.

“As I am sure you know, Princess, what you desire and what ponies do are not always congruent.” Blessed continued, her happiness echoing through the silent crowd as a second gem was placed down.

“True.” Celestia sat before the plans, and waited as a final gemstone was added.

From the gems shone a little display of lights, intersecting and criss-crossing to form an illusion of what the temple would look like completed. The first thing Celestia noticed was that Notra-Dame de la Etoiles was dark. Not foreboding or ominous, though it could be under a cloudy night, but actually dark in colour.

“What material are you proposing to use?” Celestia asked as she raised a hoof to spin the illusion.

“Midnight Marble, Princess.” Blessed shifted uneasily on her hooves as she spoke.

“Midnight Marble? Interesting choice. Logical, though in the quantities you’ll need it will cost a fortune.”

“Our initial estimates put the cost at close to ten million bits, for materials alone.”

A murmur rippled through the court. Such a cost was unheard of. Even the nobles would have balked at such a sum. Celestia privately smiled. She almost wished that the nobility were present. The cost was a little inflated, though. If Celestia had to make a guess, she’d have placed the cost closer to nine million bits for the materials.

“You will transport the blocks by train, no doubt,” Celestia continued, making note of other interesting features. “You have the walls being supported by flying buttresses I see. It’s been centuries since I saw a new building use them. And three spires. How tall is the one above what looks to be the choir?”

“Five hundred and ten hooves, Princess.”

“Impressive,” Celestia admitted. “I’ve never seen this style of spire before,” she admitted, twisting and manipulating the illusion to show the temple’s interior.

Built around a pillar supported by open-air buttresses and ribs, the central spire would be magnificent when completed. Windows covered the exterior, letting in the light and would allow any pony climbing the steps wrapped around the pillar to gaze out on the surrounding countryside. At the top of the tower portion of the spire was a little area to sit so visitors could recover before beginning the descent.

“It was our desire that pilgrims and the faithful would be able to see as many of Twilight’s stars as possible.”

“That explains the number of windows,” Celestia nodded her approval of the idea. “I notice that the facade and interior are plain, no sculptures or frescos.”

“We haven’t reached out to any artists yet, Princess.” Blessed gulped, a little bead of sweat trickling along her brow and down to her jaw. “W-we had hoped to have laid the foundations at least before the final decisions were made.”

“An odd choice...” Celestia’s voice trailed off as she gave a very slight frown. “Why the delay?”

Wincing, Blessed said, “Costs. Material and labour take up all the budget, and we don’t have enough remaining to hire any artisans. As it is, we’ll have to take out several loans and build over several decades.”

“What about all the homes that are already there?” This question came from Tyr, the filly gesturing to the rest of the building. To one side was a garden, and what Celestia assumed would be the living quarters and other sundry rooms for the priestesses. The temple itself was huge, over six hundred hooves in length. With the additional buildings, it would dominate the south side of Ponyville.

“That is an interesting question,” Celestia agreed. “I don’t think Twilight would be too pleased to discover that her library had been destroyed and her old neighbors forced to move in order to make space for a temple.”

Blessed quickly shook her head. “Oh, no, we’d never do that!” Pointing to the large square garden, Blessed continued in a rapid voice. “It isn’t on these plans, but the Holy Tree will be moved the short distance to the gardens and be converted into a reliquary to house the Friendship Scrolls. The library’s current contents will be put into a new library here and here.” Blessed pointed at the south and east buildings that flanked the garden.

Celestia nodded slowly, looking the plans over a few more times.

Beyond the actual temple, Celestia saw how it would affect Ponyville and the surrounding area. The impact to Whitetail Wood, as lumber would be needed not just for the temple, but to build housing for the hundreds of workers, would be tremendous. Ponyville itself would swell during the construction. Once word of Notre-Dame de la Etoiles began to spread there would be an increase in tourists and pilgrims.

The odds of Fluttershy’s not-secret secret becoming wider knowledge would increase drastically. Celestia knew it was inevitable that Equestria as a whole would become aware of Fluttershy’s ascension eventually, but she wanted to give Fluttershy time to adjust. The influx of attention would certainly doom that idea.

Still, this would bring in a lot of trade to the rural town. It would take a few decades, but Whitetail would recover. Probably quicker with Fluttershy’s proximity.

“So, you need building permits, and the deeds to the lands, correct?” Celestia asked as she reached a decision.

“The permits are all we wish.”

“Nonsense,” Celestia said, letting her genuine amusement shine. “I won’t hear of the Sisterhood owing the crown. I’ll also make sure that anypony living where the temple will be built will have their homes moved to a location of their choosing. Furthermore, I will assist you from my private funds,” Celestia added with a sharp grin to the flabbergasted priestess. “If this is to be a gift to my cousin, then I wish to help.”

“Princess...” Blessed had gone pale beneath her dyed coat as tears glistened in her eyes. “I... We... The Sisterhood will repay you, somehow.”

“Blessed, you and your sisters already dedicate your entire lives to my herd. That is a gift we cannot repay you for.”

“Your Divine Highness... Thank you. A thousand times, thank you.” The tears spilled over as she collected the gemstones and plans.

The stream of thanks left a warm glow deep in Celestia’s breast as Blessed backed out of the throne room. A thunder of applause filled the chamber at Celestia’s parting words, the common ponies smiling broadly and cheering.

Returning to her throne, Celestia glanced towards her seneschal, stopping as several jolts shot into the base of her horn. She knew the sensation well enough, having experienced it too many times over the past few months. An awakened alicorn was near, and it was somepony she hadn’t met yet. From the way it came in pulses, whoever it was was both close, and using magic to hide his or her true form.

Either Shyara had come out of hiding in Ponyville, or Zeus had arrived. Celestia knew which of the two was more likely.

“Next we have—” Chronicle began, the seneschal pressing his nose to his notes as he spoke.

“Chronicle, begin the Nightmare contingencies,” Celestia interrupted, keeping her mask firmly in place, every inch of her outer appearance the regal princess while her insides boiled in worry and anger.

Hesitating the barest glimpse of a moment, Chronicle turned to Tyr, saying, “Come along, miss, I believe your parents are packing. Best you join them, hmm?”

“What, but there is still half of Daycourt, and besides, I was—”

“Tyr, go—,” Celestia began, cutting off Tyr, but was interrupted herself as a low murmur rippled through the court. Celestia glanced to the side-door, and a visibly frazzled Cadence.

Though she showed no outward signs beyond a slight unkemptness to her mane, Celestia could see that Cadence had run the length of the palace from her suites to the throne room. Before either had time to speak, the throne room doors were opened, and Blessed re-entered the hall, backwards this time. The Revered Speaker had her ears pressed so flat against her head, they seemed to merge with her robes.

Forcing the Revered Mother back, wrapped in the guise of a pegasus, Zeus strode into the throne room like a general coming to accept terms from a vanquished enemy. His wings were spread ever so slightly, and head held at a triumphant angle. Behind him, the Royal Guard lay spread across the gallery, their spears broken and armour rent.

Fear and anger blossomed within Celestia’s breast; fear for her little ponies, and anger at seeing them hurt.

“Zeus!” Celestia bellowed, the surge of anger and hatred not just cracking her mask, but shattering it as her voice almost reached Traditional Royal Canterlot levels, her hoof thrusting towards the stallion.

“Zeus?” Tyr yelped, shrinking down behind Celestia’s throne.

“Who?” asked the crowd, those at the front stepping or blown a few steps back.

The crowd scrambled out of Celestia’s path as she leapt from her throne, wings carrying her in a glide to the far side of the chamber. As she landed, Zeus dispelled the dozen enchantments and charms necessary to hide his form, and more importantly, his nature. Magic surged through the throne room, creating a space around the two alicorns as it pushed the crowd back.

“I see word of me has preceded my arrival,” Zeus chuckled as he settled his wings and flicked his white mane behind his ears.

Taking a deep breath to control her anger, and calm the heat rising from her body, Celestia examined Zeus. He wasn’t much to look at, Celestia decided. While there was a certain strength to his build, he wasn’t all that large, being a few inches shorter than her. Strong, yes, with well toned features, but Celestia had expected Zeus to be… taller. He was also giving her a funny look. His eyes seemed to sparkle while a wide half-grin took to his face.

In a swift move, he took Celestia’s right hoof in his own and brought it up to his lips, kissing her where golden shoe met her leg.

“If you took every dawn for a thousand years, compressed them to a single point of time, the beauty of that moment would be a pale shadow next to your radiance.”

For the first time in centuries, Celestia was speechless. She wasn’t taken in by the line. It did not send little fluttering tremors through her. Nor did the confident smile make her want to hide a smile of her own and bat her lashes.

Quite the opposite, in fact.

It took every measure of her control to hold back from striking Zeus. The shocked faces of her little ponies acted as a soothing balm against the anger flaring deep in her breast. For their sakes she had to remain calm, no matter how tempting it was to kick Zeus’ plot to Vanhoover and back.

Taking the moment Celestia spent re-ordering her emotions and desires as an invitation to continue, Zeus swaggered around to her side and extended a wing across her back.

“Eyes like petals of the crystal rose, and a coat whiter than the first snowflake. Surely, none other could hope to be compared with you, fair Goddess.”

“What’s going on?” one mare whispered to another, the second replying, “I think the princess has a suitor calling.”

Celestia had prepared herself for many things, but not Zeus touching the sensitive and intimate place between her wings and base of her mane. A primordial electric shock coursed up into Celestia’s thoughts, scattering them like sheep before a wolf. In a fluid motion, he leaned over and —pressing his advantage as Celestia tried to re-organise her reeling mind— kissed her.

At once the throne room was filled with a tremendous boom. Zeus staggered back, a hoof clutching his cheek while Celestia snorted in furious contempt, the hoof she had used to strike him hanging in the air. The ancient marble stones around them were shattered in a spiderweb of cracks originating from the four points where Zeus had stood.

“Oh-ho! A love tap!” Zeus laughed, turning to the nearest stallion, and with a wink said, “That’s how you know they are interested.”

“The only interest I have that involves you is your departure,” Celestia snarled, stamping her hoof and cracking the marble further.

Zeus simply shrugged, working his jaw a few times. “Believe that if you want, but I can tell there is a connection between us.”

Celestia’s mane began to crackle as she advanced a few steps towards Zeus, her voice ringing throughout the palace as she spoke.

“You harmed my guards without provocation—”

“They tried to bar my entry. Me! Zeus! God of Storms and King of the Alicorns!” Zeus waved a bored hoof. “Besides, they fought well… for a group of mortals.”

“You almost killed my mother!”

Little flames trickled at the corners of Celestia’s eyes, her mane and tail having turned into deep shades of orange and red. The air directly around her boiled and hissed, forcing the crowd further and further back.

“Pish-posh. She claimed to be a Fate, and everypony knows that they can only be destroyed if they wish it. If she almost died that is her fault for claiming to be something she is not.” Zeus gave a long chuckle. “Besides, she fled the field. A little roughed up, perhaps, but she’ll be fine in no time. Actually, should she wish a re-match, tell her I’m game whenever she is. Not that it was much of a fight, nothing like the time I battled the quus Typhon.”

Leaning over, Zeus took the hoof of a young mare in his own. “Now, that was a fight, my dear,” he purred. “There I was, hurling thunderbolt after thunderbolt. The sky trembled with my fury. But his hide was too thick and he shrugged off my greatest weapon. He was a hundred hooves tall, with three great, malformed heads, the stench of limburger cheese wafting off him. The other Alicorns had fled and were trying to regroup. Things seemed low.”

“What did you do?” the mare asked, the awe in her voice almost making Celestia roll her eyes.

“Why, I hit him with a rock, of course.” Zeus smiled wide as if it was the most obvious explanation.

Gaping, Cadence sputtered. “Wait, you did what?”

“I hit Typhon with a rock,” Zeus said, grabbing his belly as he started to laugh. “The biggest one I could find. Just so happened to be Mount Alicornus. Hit him so hard he fell to the burning pits of the world’s core where he has been trapped ever since.”

Every pony present stared at Zeus, with equal measures of incredulity on their faces.

“But I’m not here to boast about my glorious past,” Zeus continued, leaving the mare and strutting back towards Celestia, ignoring the wall of intense heat around her. “I’m not even here to woo a being as wholly beautiful as you, my dear,” he added as he stopped to give Celestia a curt bow.

“I’m here for... for...” Zeus’ voice trailed off, the mirth that had been ever present in his eyes fading as he looked to Cadence’s side. Tyr gave a little eep, ducking her head back down.

“You’re here for...?” Celestia asked, hoping to regain Zeus’ attention.

Waving a hoof, he shushed her. Celestia bristled again, moving to intercept Zeus as he started towards Cadence and Tyr.

“Who is that?” Zeus demanded when he found his path blocked. “Stand aside,” he thundered when no answer was forthcoming.

“No,” Celestia said in return, standing nose to nose with the intruding god. “You march uninvited into my home, you disrespect me and my ponies, and now you dare to make demands? This is not your world, and I am not beholden to you!” Sparks flickered from the tips of Celestia’s mane and tail as she spoke, slowly pushing Zeus backwards.

“I am your King!” he growled.

“No, you are not,” Celestia stated flatly. Not taking her eyes off Zeus, Celestia said, “Cadence, take the little one and—.”

“Do not take a step!” Zeus interrupted, his voice like the crack preceding the rumble of thunder. “The foal that hides behind her, I can feel her nature, even among your efforts to hide her from me. Who is she? Who is the foal?”

“I’m not a foal!” Tyr snapped, leaping out from behind Cadence before she could be stopped. Celestia could see the slight tremor in Tyr’s legs as she marched across the short gap between them. Stopping just to Celestia left, Tyr glared up at Zeus, the god arching his head back in shock. “I am Tyr, and I am not a-afraid of you! Aphrodite always said you were a big bully, and she was right!”

Slowly, Zeus’ brow knit together into a firm line, a deep frown taking hold of his lips.

“What have you done to her?” he asked Cadence, his tone quiet and contained while anger flashed in his eyes.

“I did what was necessary,” Celestia quickly said, hoping this time she’d have Zeus’ full attention.

“You did that to her? You maimed her!”

Electricity crackled through Zeus’ mane as he marched back to Celestia, thunder echoing with every step, the crowd of ponies pressing themselves towards the doors. Chronicle had been quietly ushering ponies out of the throne room with help of the pages. The careful evacuation threatened to become a stampede as ponies realized they were standing only a few hooves away from a pair of alicorns on the verge of trading blows.

“What of the others? I have not seen nor felt a trace of them since coming to this world. I travelled among the mortals, and all I heard were stories of you and yours. One Twilight Sparkle and Iridia in particular figured prominently once I set my hooves upon your favoured lands. But never a word of my Demea or Clouthea. Have you done to them as you did to… that thing?”

Circling around so Zeus was facing away from the retreating crowd, Celestia growled, “That will be up to their mothers.”

The motion had the unfortunate effect of placing Cadence and Tyr behind her, preventing them from slipping away without Zeus noticing. Celestia pinned her hopes on Cadence being able to take Tyr to safety if a fight broke out.

“Their mothers?” Zeus spat the word as if it were acid. “What have you done?”

Celestia gave a stern laugh, slowly spreading her wings, fire flowing down her feathers making them glow a hazy orange.

“Me? Nothing. They chose to latch onto two of my subjects. No, they are more than just subjects, they are friends.”

“You speak of Pellaito, the rebirth of an alicorn,” Zeus stated, magic beginning to hum along his horn.

Celestia saw no spell work at play, only the simple threat of magic not unlike an earth pony stamping his hooves or a pegasus spreading his wings. She almost revised her assessment when a great bident struck the stone next to Zeus, the haft gripped tight in his magic.

Celestia called to Corona, deep within Canterlot’s vaults, the ancient sword eagerly answering her summons to appear at her side.

Brandishing the blade, she said, “If that is what you call it. Unlike the others, they at least had the desire not to steal the life of one of my little ponies.”

The two were almost nose to nose, the energies given off by their bodies crackling and hissing where they touched, like water dripping onto the embers of a fire. Over Zeus’ shoulders Celestia saw, to her limited relief, the last of her ponies leave the throne room. Not that even being outside the palace would save them if she and Zeus came to blows.

“You have the most beautiful eyes when you’re angry,” Zeus moaned, his demeanor shifting quicker than winds in a storm. His wings snapped shut, his mane lost its sparking electricity, and his bident vanished. “Very well, if they have taken the path of Pellaito, then I’ll have to wait to speak to them again.” Turning sharply away from Celestia, his tail coming perilously close to touching her nose, he started to stride out of the throne room.

Celestia’s own rage took on a more contained form, the visible signs flickering away as she shared a surprised look with Cadence. Tyr was hiding beneath her foster mother, her entire form trembling.

“Oh, a question; do the cooks of your temple make something called pizza? I had some in Manehatten, and it is the most wonderful creation of mortal or god.” Zeus looked hopefully back at Celestia and Cadence, a coltish grin now home on his lips. “Why am I asking, of course they must. It’s probably required learning for any cook on this world.”

Nodding at his own logic, Zeus stepped out of the throne room, turning to wander deeper into the palace, adding in parting, “Don’t worry, I’ll find a room on my own! I am Zeus, after all!”

Sitting, her anger still boiling below the surface, Celestia turned to Cadence. “What just happened?”

“He… loves you!” Cadence sputtered, her mouth hanging open and eyes two massive saucers. “I sensed it the moment he looked into your eyes. But it just grew and grew as you argued and stood up to him.” Collecting herself, Cadence cringed as she then asked, “Auntie, what are we going to do? We can’t try to throw him out. The consequences to Canterlot…” Cadence finished by shaking her head.

“We are going to do nothing,” Celestia sighed, rubbing her temples and quickly coming to some unpleasant decisions. “You will return to the Crystal City as planned, and you’ll take Luna with you. Please, don’t protest. Spending some time with your mother isn’t the worst thing, and I want her as far away from… him, as possible. If Luna had witnessed what just happened, half of Canterlot would probably be aflame right now.”

Glaring at the still open door, Celestia finished with, “As for my unwanted and unintended ‘guest’, I’ll make certain he doesn’t harm anypony.”

Chapter Twenty: The Empress of Zebrica

Myths and Birthrights

By Tundara

Part Three: Ghosts of the North

Chapter Twenty: The Empress of Zebrica

Yo heave ho, girls, yo heave ho

Ship’s to sail this morn’, ship’s to sail this morn’

So wind and wind that ol’ capstan, girls

So wind and wind that ol’ capstan, good

Pinkie’s high voice lead the ponies at the capstan; the pink terror herself standing atop it with a fiddle in her hooves as the crew hauled in the anchor. Below, more ponies ran to and fro with the nippers, while the large chain —stinking of the heavy muck that covered the bottom— was coiled into the chain locker. Above, the sun shone, covering the entire coast in a thick, sweltering heat.

As her first verse rang clear, Pinkie was joined by three contraltos and then the entire crew in a roaring;

Yo heave ho, girls, yo heave ho

Five times the call was made, with five great turns of the capstan, before Pinkie and the contraltos broke in again.

Yo heave ho, girls, yo heave ho

raise her from below, raise her from below

Tide will turn if we don’t stamp and go

Tide will turn and the wind won’t blow

“Light along the messenger, there! Come on, girls!” Fighting Spirit yelled, the First Lieutenant moving about the deck and observing the weighing of the anchor. To the captain she said, “Heave and a-weigh, Sir.”

To this he replied in a great shout, “Heave and rally!”

Pinkie applied the bow to her fiddle with even greater zeal and, as the crew gave out a singular cry of ‘yo heave ho’, they broke the anchor free of the mud below and ran it up to the bow.

Twilight watched all the activity from the captain’s side. Watching the crew raise the anchors so the ship could enter the harbour was the first break she had taken in a week.

Through her head whizzed hundreds of new spell formulae and runes; all of them learned from her stars. The wealth of knowledge the stars knew was almost immeasurable. Runes lost for countless years were now at Twilight’s disposal. All of them belonged to the category of runes referred to as Chaotic.

Remembering well her lessons on ancient magic and the dangers of Chaos Runes, Twilight had been leery when Polaris and Vega suggested passing the runes onto her. It had taken three nights, but the stars had eventually convinced Twilight, mostly through pointing out she already knew a Chaos Rune and had used it to save Pinkie Pie.

If the stars had known the monster they were about to unleash upon themselves and their sisters, they may have reconsidered the offer. Since the moment Twilight had learned her second Chaos Rune —Puk, a rune capable of making an illusionary dancing flame known as fey-fire— she’d become insatiable in her desire to learn more. To the point where she’d keep stars awake by bringing them down with her to the disc.

Polaris herself had suggested coming down that morning herself to teach Twilight the runes she knew. This morning there were no lessons. Instead, the lodestar bobbed around Twilight, zipping over to watch the crew up close as they worked before returning to Twilight and perching herself upon her mistress’ brow like a glimmering crown.

It is so different seeing it up close like this, Polaris said before beginning to gush and name, one by one and in exacting detail, everything the crew was doing.

Twilight had been in her cabin when the Bellerophon had weighed anchor in Baltimare. Her keen eyes missed little as the crew carried out its duties with practiced speed, their experienced actions putting her at ease. Only now, with Polaris’ running monologue, she even began to understand the process. From the hooking of the cat to the anchor-ring, the running of the anchor to the cat-head, shifting the messenger for another cable, to the many more actions needed to secure the anchor.

It was organised chaos, with all the shouting, singing, and running about.

When at last it was done, Hardy called out, ‘Up anchor’ and the ship was underway, gliding towards the mouth of the Zebrican River and the port of Timbucktu. Just beyond the port stood the city of Zerubaba; capital of Zebrica.

Built on top of three hills overlooking the river, Zerubaba was called the City of Minarets, so named for the innumerable towers that thrust from the city. Squat buildings, built one atop the other, were spread out in an almost chaotic display linked by twisting streets and alleyways. Painted in pinks, oranges, and blues, with roofs of red slate and little green doors, the homes were both comforting and haphazard enough to boggle those used to Equestrian sensibilities. There was barely a sight of plants in the entire city, aside from planters hung from windows.

Atop the first, and largest, hill, was the commoners district. Here the homes were smallest with the narrow alleys and streets filled with a swarming sea of zebras. As this was also the district where foreigners stayed, the more vibrant coats of ponies could occasionally be seen, as well as a few towering minotaurs or griffons.

On the peak of the second hill was the Tamil Tahree, the great mausoleum where the past queens and kings of Zebrica were interred. Eight towers surrounded the Tamil Tahree, each worthy of song, thrusting towards the sky like gold-capped white spears. From their peaks fluttered the banner of Samalla, the great Zebrican heroine who lead her nation in overthrowing griffon dominion in the year 365, Equestrian Reckoning. Samalla herself was kept at the very heart of the Tamil Tahree, surrounded by her descendants and the wealth of a great nation.

Within her casket, it was said, rested her greatest weapon; the griffon-slayer, Garoom Theerud, the sword of liberation. Legend held that Samalla had been a slave taken beyond the Mareterranean where she’d been forced to fight the ponies. She had excelled, proving herself until she came to the notice of wicked griffon mages. Seeking a tool against Discord, they performed unnatural experiments on Samalla, making her immune to magic. Instead of fighting the God of Chaos, she rebelled against her masters, cut the mages down, and led the zebras to freedom.

Between the second and third hills sat the ancient Hippodrome, constructed to entertain griffon lords with pony and zebra races of a brutal nature. Now little more than a crumbling ruin, it had been centuries since the Hippodrome had been used, with many of its stones pillaged to construct homes throughout Zerubaba.

Next to the decaying Hippodrome sat a coliseum. Unlike the Hippodrome, this building saw frequent use, hosting games, plays, and sports matches. Every day the citizens of Zerubaba funnelled into the coliseum, eager to be entertained. Where once it may have held gladiatorial combat like the Hippodrome, the closest the coliseum now came were the monthly executions of criminals.

Upon Pallum Hill, the third and largest, rested the Golden Palace. Half completed, with scaffolding surrounding the north and west facing walls, the palace of Zerubaba would be unrivaled when finished. A hundred towers overlooked sweeping courtyards, gardens, and a zoo. An army of a hundred architects and ten thousand labourers swarmed like ants over the construction site. The sounds of their chisels ringing down on the Bellerophon as she glided into Timbucktu’s harbour, only to end abruptly as a bugling horn rang across the countryside.

The port itself wasn’t all that different from any in Equestria. Warehouses lined the docks, vessels ranging from small sloops to barques tied to the quays. Behind them were homes, a thriving market, and a few administrative buildings and the garrison. In the port’s mouth, anchored in a neat row, were three ships-of-the-line; two first rates and a fourth.

“That’s the L’Orient, or I am the daughter of a ferrier,” Fighting Spirit said, having taken her spot at the captain’s right.

“I imagine so,” Hardy agreed, pointing to her stern galley windows as the Bellerophon swam past. “Yes, it is, you can see her name now. And those two are the Princess Platinum and the Santa Isabel. Yes, yes, it is as I suspected. Beautiful old ships, just beautiful. By Celestia, what are they all doing here, though?”

“Maybe the same thing we are?” Twilight suggested uneasily.

“Perhaps so, Princess, perhaps so.” Hardy tapped his hoof unhappily. “But it is a strange sight to see. In open waters, those three would be at each others throats like rutting dragons.”

Across from Timbucktu stood a low, squat fortress on a short hill overlooking the river. The black muzzles of cannons thrust out from its walls while the flag of Zebrica fluttered proudly on the breeze, a golden lion atop a scarlet field.

“Miss Spirit, the salute, if you please,” Hardy said as they passed the battlements of the fortress and glided deeper into the port.

The order was echoed along the deck, and then the first of twenty-one guns roared harmless flame seaward with a resounding crack. Along the upper deck the cannons fired one by one, engulfing the Bellerophon in a pungent fog that was carried away by the onshore breeze. One heartbeat after the last of the Bellerophon’s cannons had fired, the fort responded in kind, sending a salute of one and twenty throaty bangs.

As the Bellerophon dropped her anchors, Twilight turned to see Faust approaching with Timely. The pair had been watching from the crows nest, the good doctor describing the methods in much the same manner as Polaris. With a smile, Timely said, “Here we are, Zebrica at last. It feels like this trip has taken forever.”

“And now the real fun can begin,” Faust said, sharing Timely’s smile, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

I do not like that look, mistress, Polaris hummed from her perch. She suspects trouble.

Taking Polaris’ words to heart, Twilight swung up beside her aunt, asking, “Aunt Faust, what can I expect here?”

“Adventure, my dear, this is a land of adventure and romance.” Faust lifted her head, taking in a deep breath of the spice laden air. “You need to be careful. I see dark things moving in the shadows, circling you and your friends. Stay close to each other, and you shall remain safe.”

Turning to watch the crew prepare and lower Bellerophon’s tenders, Twilight asked when Faust had last been in Zebrica.

“The last time must have been… the year three-seventy-one. I spoke with Discord shortly after the mad-one appeared. He tried to goad me into a fight.”

“Tried?”

“Yes, tried. Came very close, too, but ultimately I knew it wasn’t my place to stop him. You’ve met him. I’m sure you can imagine what tricks he pulled.”

Faust snorted and flicked her wings in irritation while Twilight shuddered at the memories of Discord’s shortly lived freedom.

“Before that… It has to have been around five hundred Before Equestria, give or take a decade.” Faust tapped her chin as she turned over the past in her mind. “Yes, that sounds about right. The griffons were forming the Second Empire and I was curious as to if they’d be a threat to my little ponies. Short answer was; yes, oh, how they’d be a threat. I can’t be happier that their empire is in complete shambles and on the precipice of annihilation. I wish it would remain so.”

“How can you say that?” Twilight asked, gaping at her aunt. “Griffons can be a little rough around the edges, but they don’t deserve to die!”

Faust gave Twilight a look not unlike pity while Timely cleared his throat and took a keener interest in the lowering of the tender.

“Griffons are beasts and brutes, little better than monsters. I have tried, time and again, to make them see reason and the virtues of peace, but all they ever desire is conquest and conflict. They revel in their carnivorous nature. It took force and bloody wars to make them sign the Compact, disallowing them from hunting and consuming ponies, zebras, or camels. You’ll discover soon enough, my sweet, innocent niece; griffons are not to be trusted.”

Twilight felt a little green as she stuttered, “They eat ponies?”

“Not anymore.” Faust gave a grim grin before swinging herself over the rail and lowering herself into the tender. “But let’s not worry about that. Right now, we have a city to explore.”

Deciding it better to put Faust’s comments out of her mind for the time being, Twilight clambered down the Bellerophon’s side. They were soon joined by Pinkie, Rainbow, Fleur, and Timely. The bargemares pushed off, and with strong strokes of the oars, carried the tender towards the docks. Behind them came the second tender, a smaller jolly boat, it holding a large, gold-banded chest containing the gifts for Zebrica’s Empress.

The tender kissed the dock light as a mother’s lips upon the brow of her foal, not even jostling the passengers. The bargemares all smiled, a few going so far as to whisper and pat their neighbor on the back at the display of skill.

Up onto the dock went Twilight and her entourage, Rainbow and Pinkie both gaping at the crowd that had gathered along the pier. Mostly the black and whites of zebras, the crowd nevertheless showed the brighter coats of a few ponies, and perhaps a dozen or so griffons, camels, and the towering forms of a pair of elephants.

To one side stood two ranks of zebra soldiers, resplendent in gold and scarlet uniforms, the edges of chain barding flashing in the reflected light. Like the few earth ponies in Equestria’s guards, the zebras shouldered long-hafted spears, their greater natural strength allowing them to wear heavier barding with ease.

From the ranks of soldiers stepped their commander, or perhaps a noble. Clad in old styled grey plate armour, his peytral and helm were both emblazoned with swirling gold painted dragons breathing fire. The swagger in his steps made his braided mane bounce as it hung down his right side.

At his side, ignored by everyone present, stood a towering lion of golden fire and black smoke. Twilight recognised him as an Ifrit, spirits found only in Zebrica. The Ifrit’s eyes glowed like embers, his lips pulled back to reveal long, jagged fangs of black igneous rock.

The officer saluted, head held high and grey eyes shining, drawing Twilight’s attention away from the spirit.

“Your most Divine Highness, I am Lord Halphamet, Commandant of the Empress’ Guard and her Hoof. I am here as your escort to the Golden Palace.”

Twilight was taken aback at the brisk, almost harsh clip to the zebra’s accent. He had none of Zecora’s playful sing-song nature. Everything about him was simple, almost blunt, military professionalism.

“It’s nice to meet you, Lord Halphamet.” Twilight gave her best smile as Pinkie bounced out of the tender and —along with Timely— turned to help Faust onto the dock.

Lord Halphamet’s stoic expression shattered as he saw Faust rise on wobbly hooves.

“Pahroom shi’rah!” he exclaimed, bowing so low nose of his helm scraped the ground. “It is a great honour to greet you, your most Divine Majesty. The Empress anticipated your arrivals and extends her invitation to dine at the palace this eve.”

“We graciously accept,” Twilight said, keeping her head held high. She remembered Zecora once mentioning in passing that it was seen as a sign of weakness among zebras for a superior to make any concession to a lesser. While it made Twilight’s mane prickle at having to seem so unfriendly, she also wanted to make a good first impression.

“Very good,” Lord Halphamet said, stepping out of his bow and leading the way towards a group of carriages.

A hush fell across the pier as Twilight passed, the crowd falling to its knees, brows placed upon the ground and eyes turned away. Twilight blushed and couldn’t shake a crawling feeling as she entered the first carriage, the Imperial Mark upon its doors. Faust joined Twilight in the first carriage, the door snapping shut behind her while the others entered the remaining carriages.

“You’re doing well, Twilight,” Faust said, shifting a little to watch as Timely, Hardy, and Fleur entered the last of the carriages.

Twilight’s hooves shook as she gave her aunt an incredulous look. “I feel like an imposter,” Twilight admitted. “I’m not ready for this. Celestia spent all our time together getting me ready to save Luna and the Disc. Not playing nice with nobles and Queens. What if I say the wrong thing?”

Pressing her ears back, Twilight cringed as the carriage began to roll through the port town and towards Zerubaba.

“I belong in a library studying or a class-room teaching. That was what I thought I was destined to do. Not…” Twilight gestured to her wings. “This is suddenly all too real. More so than even Nightcourt or having to sort through some reports. I at least had Luna for one, and the other was just paper work. I’m going to be all alone, in front of somepony I know nothing about who is in charge of one of the oldest nations on Ioka. What if I cause a war!?”

Twilight pressed a hoof to her chest as her heart took off like a hound chasing a rabbit and her breaths came in sharp gasps.

Mistress, you should calm yourself. Getting worked up over what one mortal thinks is silly. Polaris floated out of Twilight’s mane, hovering just beyond her nose to give her a fixed point to look at.

“You’ll be fine, Twilight,” Faust chuckled. She then canted a brow, asking, “When was the last time you slept?”

“Last week,” Twilight admitted, fiddling her hooves and feeling foalish. “Whenever I tried to get to sleep I’d think about this meeting and imagine… failing.”

“Ah, I thought so.” Faust shook her head. “Here, come sit beside me and rest your head on my withers.”

Twilight thought to protest, but decided against it. Shifting across the carriage, she sat down next to Faust, laying her head against her aunt’s neck. The smell of licorice and sweet wine met Twilight’s nose as Faust extended a wing around Twilight.

“Polaris, if you’d be so kind?” Faust said to the hovering star.

With pleasure, replied the star, zipping towards Twilight and tapping her on the tip of her horn.

“Hey, what are you… do… ing…?” Twilight mumbled, her eyes fluttering shut as she drifted off into a blissful, dreamless sleep.

“Thank you, Polaris” Faust smiled and gave the star a slight nod. “That should give her a couple hours before we reach the Palace, at least.”

My pleasure, replied the star as she settled in Twilight’s mane like a glittering broach. It is my duty to help the stars to go to sleep, after all.

* * *

“I don’t get it,” Apple Bloom admitted as she walked with Sweetie, Scootaloo, and Shyara through Ponyville. “Why are you hiding out in our club house instead of, I don’t know, staying with Fluttershy? She already has Princess Luna and Iridia staying with her. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind you as well.”

“S-say, is that cottage made to look like a giant gingerbread house?” Shyara attempted to deflect away from the question, pointing towards Sugar Cube Corner.

“Sheesh, you do this every time,” Scootaloo groaned, wings buzzing with irritation. “And that was the worst attempt yet.”

Pressing her ears flat against her head, Shyara looked away from the others, mumbling something about not wanting to talk about it under her breath.

“Come on, we promised to keep how you’re hiding in our clubhouse a secret!” Scootaloo shot Shyara an irritated look. “Even Pinkie Promised and everything. Can’t you tell us why?”

“I still don’t understand the importance of Pinkie Promises…” Shyara rolled her eyes. “But if it will get you to stop talking about it —in public— it’s because,” Shyara lowered her voice into a hissing whisper, one the Crusaders could barely hear, “I’m afraid of Celestia.”

“You’re afraid of the Princess?” Apple Bloom yelped, head jerking back as if she’d been struck. “Whatever for? She’s the nicest pony around except for maybe Pinkie or Fluttershy.”

“Don’t forget Princess Luna,” Scootaloo added. When Apple Bloom and Sweetie gave her incredulous looks, Scootaloo snapped, “What? She’s a nice pony too! All the princesses are.”

Shaking her head as the quartet walked up to Sugar Cube Corner’s door and made their way inside, Shyara mumbled, “It’s not that simple. I’m—”

The rest of Shyara’s words ended in a choked exclamation as she looked up to see Fluttershy standing at the counter chatting amiably with the store’s owners. Though Fluttershy seemed to the world to be no more than her old pegasus self, Shyara had no difficulty seeing past the illusions. To her sight Fluttershy’s horn was like a spiral of shifting yellow smoke. Fluttershy’s ear flicked a few times as if a fly was buzzing around her head. Spinning around, Shyara started to leave, only to freeze when an altogether too-soft voice spoke up.

“Hello girls.” These words were followed by a slight pause and, “Who is your friend?”

Gulping, and turning back to face the approaching goddess, Shyara put on her most innocent smile. Towering above her, Fluttershy held a small box of baked goods beneath a wing.

“Hello, Fluttershy,” the crusaders intoned with the sweet innocence common to all fillies. “This is—”

“Shy Spell, I’m Shy Spell,” Shyara blurted, a bead of sweat prickling her brow.

“Oh, hello, Shy Spell.” Fluttershy gave a hesitant and uncertain smile. “It’s, um, nice to meet you.” Fluttershy took in a deep breath, Shyara getting the distinct impression that of the two of them, Fluttershy was the far more nervous one. “You, um, new in town?”

“Me?” Shyara’s voice squeaked like a cat-toy. “Y-yes. I’ve only been in Ponyville a few days.”

“Oh, that’s… um, nice, I suppose.” Fluttershy shifted from hoof to hoof, glancing longingly at the door. Shyara almost felt sorry for Fluttershy. Aunt Artemis had been nervous around unfamiliar ponies, but not to the extent Fluttershy displayed. “So… You four are here for breakfast?”

Gulping Shyara looked to the crusaders for support, but found them all trying hard not to look guilty; a task they all were failing at miserably. This had been a bad idea, coming into town and leaving the clubhouse. What ever had possessed her to ask to join the crusaders? The warm, spicy smells combined with the growling of her stomach served as strong reminders.

Deciding truth was the best weapon, Shyara said, “Breakfast? Yes, breakfast! I heard that this bakery had the best muffins.”

“Well, not the best,” Sweetie mumbled, scuffing a hoof. “Mrs. Hooves makes the best muffins. But they’re really good here, too.”

“Yes, that’s true. Pinkie has asked for years if Derpy could give her the recipe.” Fluttershy nodded her head a bit too rapidly, her ear flicking again. “Well, I better get going. There is still so much to do before tomorrow. You four fillies try to be good, and stay out of trouble. You especially, Apple Bloom. Applejack is stressed enough with… everything.”

“Course I will.” Apple Bloom smirked.

Seeming as if she wanted to say more, Fluttershy opened her mouth, closed it, and made her good-byes before quickly leaving the bakery.

“What was that about?” Scootaloo hissed to Sweetie, the fillies making their way towards the counter, where they each ordered a muffin and milkshake. “I’ve never seen Fluttershy that… odd, before.”

“How should I know?” Sweetie asked as they took their seats and began to discuss plans for the upcoming Summer Sun Talent Fair.

Shyara couldn’t shake the feeling that her disguise had been about as effective as a paper mache umbrella in a thunderstorm. She was certain that Fluttershy knew she was an alicorn. But, then why hadn’t she said anything?

Before Shyara could really fall deep into thought, she was brought out by a harsh bark of laughter.

“Well, if it isn’t the Cutie Mark Catastrophes,” Diamond Tiara —easily distinguished as she wore a diamond-encrusted tiara— sneered as she and her companion approached. “What are you blank flanks doing? Shouldn’t you be working on your next disaster?”

“For your information, we have a great act this year!” Scootaloo snapped, slamming her hooves on the small table and almost toppling the milkshakes.

“What, not another attempt at music, I hope,” Diamond Tiara cackled. “Last time you almost destroyed the entire talent show.”

“Actually, yeah, it is!” Scootaloo had to be restrained by Apple Bloom and Sweetie to prevent her from jumping at Diamond Tiara. “And it’s going to leave you crying like a foal with its awesomeness!”

“More like crying from laughing so hard,” Diamond Tiara snorted, glancing over to Shyara. “And who are you? Another loser blank flank?”

“No, I have my mark,” Shyara said, shifting a little on her stool to reveal her cutie mark. Diamond Tiara hadn’t been ready for the answer, clearly unable to grasp why a filly with her cutie mark would be with fillies lacking theirs. Feeling a little vindictive on behalf of her new friends, Shyara decided to have some fun at Diamond’s expense. “I’m Shy Spell, of House Lulamoon. My mom is an old acquaintance of the Belles.”

None of what she said was a lie, in the strictest sense.

“House Lulamoon?” Diamond Tiara’s brows shot up as she glanced between Shyara’s mark and horn. “You’re a noble? You? And you hang out with them?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Shyra tilted her head as if she were speaking to a simpleton.

Stabbing a hoof at the crusaders, Diamond snarled. “They are just farmers and poor ponies!”

Laughing, Shyara replied with a biting, “You don’t know?”

Diamond Tiara’s face turned beet-red as her anger got the best of her. She was saved only by her companion saying, “Come on Diamond. We don’t have time for them or their new friend.”

Taking a calming breath, Diamond adjusted her tiara. “You’re right Silver. With Sweetie’s useless sister gone we’ve had to get a real—”

The remainder of what she was going to say was lost as Sweetie hurled herself, screaming like a banshee, onto Diamond Tiara, knocking the other filly over. The pair tumbled across the shop, Diamond yelling for help as Sweetie bit her ear and kicked her. Scrambling, the remaining crusaders, Shyara, and Silver all tried to pull Sweetie and Diamond apart. They received several kicks, and Scootaloo a bite from Diamond, before Mr. and Mrs. Cake came running.

Yanking Sweetie off Diamond Tiara —the latter crying and pressing a hoof to her ear as she was helped up— Mr. Cake demanded to know who had started the fight.

“She said Rarity—”

“I don’t want to hear it, girls!” Mrs. Cake snapped, “It doesn’t matter what anypony says. Fighting isn’t the answer. You’re all banned from the bakery for a week.”

“What?” all six fillies exclaimed. In an effort to avoid punishment, Silver and Diamond added, “But, they started it!”

“Don’t think I don’t know what happened out here, girls. I have the ears of a fox and the eyes of an eagle. Comes with being a mother.” There was no humour in Mrs. Cake’s tone as she glared at each filly one by one. “Furthermore, I’m going to be having a talk with all of your parents.”

“What?” they yelped, even louder.

“Carrot, mind the shop please while I take the girls home,” Mrs. Cake said as she marched the group of fillies out of the shop like a procession of prisoners on their way to the gallows.

Ears flat and dark looks shooting back and forth, the group was lead one-by-one to their homes, starting with Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon. The Crusaders and Shyara were made to apologize at each home under the disapproving eyes of Mrs. Cake and the other fillies’ parents. Silver Spoon was made to apologize back, while Diamond’s father stated simply that his daughter would be duly punished for her role in the fight.

As they marched again through the streets, Shyara wondered when Mrs. Cake would ask where she lived, and what excuse to fabricate in order to escape. Beneath her vest, Shyara’s wings twitched and prickled while she glanced at every alley as if it were a passage to safety. The narrow, shadowed spaces seemed to call to Shyara. Each time she started to drift towards one, however, there was Mrs. Cake, waiting and watching.

The next house they went to was Sweetie’s.

It was utterly plain and ordinary in every regard. The yard was perfectly neat and trim, with two little shrubs next to the street. The white washed walls and stained cedar beams neither shined nor were they dull.

As she had at the previous homes, Mrs. Cake knocked on the door, the fillies standing in utter dejection behind her.

It was Bonnie that answered the door, pulling it open sharply with a, “Who is there? Oh, hello Cup, what’s going on?”

“Morning Bonnie.” Mrs. Cake gave a slightly stiff nod. “I’m afraid your daughter and her friends were fighting with Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon in my store this morning.”

Bonnie glanced past Mrs. Cake to the four contrite fillies. Shyara did her best to hide behind Mrs. Cake and Apple Bloom, but it was an utterly futile effort. Bonnie arched a brow as her eyes moved from her daughter to Shyara, where they lingered a moment before returning to Mrs. Cake.

“Well, that ain’t on. Sweetie, Shy, apologize to Mrs. Cake and then go to your room, you’re both grounded.”

All four fillies’ mouths fell open together, their jaws practically bouncing off the red brick path. Mrs. Cake seemed as surprised as the crusaders, frowning as she glanced between Shyara and Bonnie.

“I was going to ask if you knew who her parents were…” Mrs. Cake’s voice trailed off and she gave her head a shake.

“I’m an old friend of the family,” Bonnie said as she waved Sweetie and Shyara inside. Following Sweetie’s lead, Shyara said she was sorry before scurrying past Bonnie. Behind them they heard Bonnie continue talking with Mrs. Cake. “Promised I’d look after her while her mother was away on business.”

“Doesn’t she have any other herd members? I thought it rather odd that…”

“Nah, they passed away years ago. Storm off Shelby Point in ‘59. Was in all the papers. The Maid Mariner disaster. Her dad and other mom were passengers.”

“Oh, poor thing. I read about that. What a shame.” There was a pause, then Mrs. Cake made her farewells saying she had to talk with Scootaloo and Apple Bloom’s families still.

Shyara looked around the living room, and was pleasantly surprised to find it was the complete opposite of the exterior. Fishing nets hung from the ceiling, an old wheel placed above the fireplace, and pictures. Lots and lots of pictures. Some were painted portraits, but many more where the curious black-and-white photograph kind. On the mantle were a few trophies, the words ‘Best Coach’ written on brass placards upon their bases. Behind the trophies sat an old sabre, the blade nicked and battered. In the middle of the room was an old weathered couch, the padding poking out of the end-rests where the fabric had been worn through, and a squat table made from polished oak planks.

“I thought I told you two to go to your room,” Bonnie said as she shut the front door, giving the fillies a sharp look.

“Yes, mom,” Sweetie intoned, waving for Shyara to follower her upstairs.

Sweetie’s room turned out to be everything Shyara should have expected, but never really considered. Painted a nice peach tone with swirling pink hearts and lines, it was almost overwhelming in its cleanliness.

“Thanks, by the way,” Sweetie mumbled as she jumped up onto her bed. “For trying to stand up to Diamond for us. I’m sorry I got you caught.”

Shrugging, Shyara said, “It’s okay. It was a stupid idea for me to come into town anyways.” There was a pause, then, “What is your mom going to do to us?”

“Well, we’re grounded for sure,” Sweetie curled up as she spoke, “and I expect we’ll be yelled at a little. Dad would take away desert too.”

Shyara nodded, though she didn’t understand the word ‘grounded’. It kept getting thrown around like its meaning was obvious, but it couldn’t have been more obscure to her. Deciding to puzzle out the meaning, Shyara knew it was a punishment of some sort. It had to be a bad one too, given how the others reacted each time it was mentioned. With a name like ‘Grounded’, maybe they were going to be placed in holes and left in the dank earth without food or water for days.

No, that couldn’t be it. That was a punishment more fitting Gaea, not soft Ioka.

What could it be then? Shyara began to pace, the minutes ticking away, while Sweetie moped on her bed. Maybe they’d have to dig something? Making their fillies work as punishment didn’t seem so far-fetched. Deciding that had to be the answer, Shyara looked up to the clock, and was surprised to see that a half hour had gone past since they’d been banished to Sweetie’s room.

“Where’s your mom? I thought she was going to yell at us.”

“She’s probably talking with dad about how long we should be grounded,” Sweetie shrugged.

Swallowing a nervous lump at the impending punishment, Shyara said, “But, I’m not their filly. Can they punish me?”

Looking up, Sweetie opened her mouth to speak, and then snapped it closed again. “I don’t know…” Sweetie gave a noncommittal frown. “How does mom even know you?”

“We met in Baltimare. I was lost and she helped me find the right train, and my... what do you call them? Cutie mark. She helped me find my cutie mark.” Shyara stopped her pacing, sitting next to Sweetie’s bed and staring at the door.

The heavy tread of hooves outside the door made both fillies stop and sit upright. The latch moved, and the door swung open to reveal not Bonnie, but Princess Luna. A very stern-faced Princess Luna. Her horn glowed as she pushed the door open and set her eyes on Shyara. Behind the princess, Bonnie stepped into the room, her jaw tense with anger as she looked at her younger daughter.

Shyara decided that being grounded was the least of her problems.

* * *

Gamla Uppsala; lodge of the ancient halla priestesses of Iridia, it was once among the most hallowed ground within the Taiga. Within the open air temple the priestesses had called upon Iridia to bring the spring and anointed the young, applying the mystical potions that guided Halla to their lodge. The Lionesses, they had been called in antiquity, and their position within Halla society had thought to be unassailable.

Now the temple was nothing more than a decaying tomb.

The ground was thick with the bleached bones of the priestesses and their defenders, slain to the last hind during the purge that followed Iridia’s defeat. The other lodges, united in their rage and disgust over the queen’s manipulations, tricking them into war with the ponies, had leveled all their pain and anguish upon the Lionesses’ withers, blaming them as much as Iridia herself for the role the Halla had played in the attempted genocide. It was beneath a somber moon, the forest filled with a thick mist, that the battered and weary Eternal Herd descended upon the priestesses and their apprentices.

Death had been a forgone conclusion. To spare the younglings a worse fate, the priestesses had gathered them within the great ante-chamber underneath the temple, in the halls and tunnels where they lived, played, and loved. While the holy guards fought and bled in a last stand above, the Lionesses slit the acolytes’ throats one by one, and then their own. When the other Halla entered Gamla Uppsala they found a grisly scene, the massive chamber awash with blood soaked bodies, and the Grand Lioness in the middle of it all, the Golden Sickle of the Queen pressed to her neck.

“The queen will rise from the bones of Gamla Uppsala. I curse you in her name. I spit upon you in her name. Until she reclaims her throne, the Halla won’t know true hope,” the Grand Lioness cried, then she brought the blade across her neck, cutting so deep she almost severed her own head.

Disgusted beyond the pall of all reason, the Eternal Herd leveled the temple, creating a mound above and sealing the tunnels below behind mighty doors. Before them they raised a plinth, and upon it was etched a simple warning;

Beware: Only the Dead may tread beyond these doors three.

And so it was for fifteen centuries, until the doors were pried open and the breath of the living intruded upon the tomb.

River stood upon the same spot her mother had thirty years earlier, looking down on the plinth with a sharp frown. Draco sat upon the mound, wings extended like a shield over the shattered remnants of Gamla Uppsala’s doors. The beast had his head held high, turning in slow motions to scan the surrounding forest and lake. Within the curvature of his wings sat the foals, manes hanging limp and dejected down the sides of their necks as they slowly ate the sparse grass growing out of the rocky ground.

Of the fog there was no sign.

Slipping back into the woods, River returned to the other Bears. They were a harried and ragged group, their fur matted with mud and burrs from long days spent tracking the star dragon and the shade controlling him. Fallen polished her bow, her eyes sunken and haunted as she and the others watched River approach.

“Why have they stopped?” the archer asked, placing her bow upon a cloth while she pulled out her war-axe and began to run a whetstone along its blade.

“It’s as we suspected, they were looking for something,” River said as she sat down.

Around her the remaining members of the company sat in a circle. Like Fallen, the others were all taking care of their equipment. All except Mountain, the berserker wearing only his sharpened antler caps and leg guards. He sat looking outward, ever-vigilant and wary.

“Kinda obvious, the way they’d change direction almost at random, criss-crossing the forest as if they were blind drunk,” Ruse muttered, running a cloth over his scratched armour. “I swear, we’ve been from one side of the Taiga to the other following them.”

“A slight exaggeration, but apt,” Vixen smirked, stretching tired muscles before yawning. Glancing at his foal-hood friend, he asked the more pressing question; “What were they looking for?”

River hesitated, bit her lip, then said, “Gamla Uppsala.”

She received little reaction beyond a few muttered oaths.

“The Queen preserve us,” Evergreen said as she quickly made a sign meant to evoke the Queen’s protection. “I thought the Champions sealed that place, buried it and the foul things crawling within.”

Vixen shared a glance with River, receiving a slight nod from her to speak.

“No, they only collapsed a sub-chamber. There are still miles of tunnels beneath the earth with dozens to hundreds more chambers.” Vixen ran a hoof through his developing beard. “The priestesses kept more than just the Golden Sickle within their lodge.”

“Well, yes, every Halla knows that Llallawynn was found within,” scoffed Jade, giving the sword strapped to River’s side an almost envious look.

“There was more, much more. The Black runes, the Dreamer’s Shard, and the Scrolls of Seven Sins were also contained within,” River explained, “and there are many more vaults that the Champions didn’t open. Any of them could contain whatever it is that the fog, shade —or whatever she is— seeks.”

“Doesn’t matter what she wants within that place,” Mountain rumbled, glancing over his shoulder with a shining brown eye. “We will bury her within for all time, correct?”

“Too dangerous. We can’t let her bide her time. Or worse, it could be exactly what she wants.” River shook her head slowly. “No, the only answer is for us to go in and send her to Tartarus.”

Lifting a brow, Vixen asked, “You have a plan to get past the dragon, then?”

Smiling, River pointed towards the shore of the nearby lake Lion. On its banks, hidden by a crooked tree was an outcropping of stone and an old wolf den. At the back of the warren was a sharp incline that dropped down into one of the numerous tunnels.

“We will go in the same way my mother got out,” River laughed. “It will be closer to the vaults than the main entrance, as well.”

“What of the dragon and foals? We aren’t going to leave them, are we?” Predictably, the question came from Mountain, the huge berserker still stinging at his earlier failure to protect the younglings.

Letting out a sharp breath, Jade said, “We’ve been over this, Mountain, the lives of three foals are not as important as those of every halla within the Taiga. Stopping the shade takes precedence.”

“No, we will save them,” Fallen said in a voice as hollow as her heart, looking up to fix each of her companions with a solemn gaze. “It will serve as a distraction while River slips into the tomb.”

“I hope you have a plan,” Broken pressed, leaning forward and frowning.

“We can’t kill the dragon, he is too strong,” Hoof frowned, clicking his tongue and looking up at the sunny sky peeking through the trees. “He shrugged off our magic as if it were nothing. Our blades and arrows can’t pierce his scales. It seems almost hopeless, and unnecessary.”

“Hopeless? Bah! We are all Masters! Warriors and mages! The dragon isn’t invincible. The scales on his breast were already cracked, if you have forgotten.” Mountain stamped a mighty hoof. “Besides, the goal isn’t to slay him, simply delay. Whatever magic that shade used to enslave him will end once River completes her task. We will therefore keep him busy while Whispering rescues the foals and spirits them to safety.”

Mountain looked around the ring, getting a stiff nod of approval from every member of the company. He then turned to River. She knew that they were all stinging from the loss of Split and Briar to the dragon. It was with a bitter heart she gave a disapproving shake of her head.

“You mean well, Mountain, but the foals are not a priority here.” River held up a hoof as Mountain gathered himself to protest. “As you say, the dragon will be freed once the shade is defeated. Accomplishing that goal will also rescue the foals. Alone, I don’t favour my odds against the shade, but together, we will return peace to the Taiga.”

“As usual, you are right.” Mountain hung his head, shaking his massive antlers at his own folly.

A small part of River wondered if any of them would return to the vales or see the next sunrise. The greater portion sang for the coming battle. They were all bred for conflict, even Little Hoof, the wizard’s eyes flashing with grim determination.

Nothing more needed discussing, each Halla preparing themselves in their own way. Prayers were spoken to Iridia, and then it was time to begin.

River lead the way, moving easily towards the lake and the hidden entrance to the tunnels. The passage was cramped and wet, the soil clinging to her coat as she inched forward. While the others used magic, to River’s blessed eyes the passage seemed to be bathed in moonlight, giving every root and rock an eerie countenance. It felt like the entire world was pressing down on her, squeezing her flat as she moved slowly forward. Eventually, the passage widened, forming a sharp inverted ‘V’ that sloped softly, a little trickle of water running along the bottom.

Dropping out of the natural passage, River turned to help the others. Mountain was the last to leave the passage, his huge shoulders and antlers scraping along the roof and causing the passage to collapse behind him.

The tunnel they found themselves in was vastly different from the muddy entrance. Grey stone had been carved by magic, the walls smooth as glass and the floors solid stone. The trickling water from the passage pooled and ran along the walls, a tapping drip-drip echoing up from the tomb’s depths. Looking either way, River listened for the tell-tale whispering of restless spirits wakened by the shades presence.

Setting off, River and the company moved swiftly and silently.

Magically-hewn walls gave way to those carved by picks and hooves. Alcoves covered the tunnels, many holding the body of ancient halla, but many more empty, the dust disturbed. A few hundred yards further along, the company came across the first draugen. The undead guardian was long since returned to the afterlife, its body hacked and torn to pieces many years prior.

River hesitated next to the body, casting a curious eye to the old wounds covering its hide.

“Mother did this,” she said in an awed whisper. “I always believed the stories exaggerated…”

Shaking off the nostalgia, River stepped over the body and entered a low room. From the stout tables covered in knives and rotten linen, it was clear this place had once been used to prepare the dead for their final rest. With extreme care, the company moved through the room, marvelling at the care their ancestors had taken with the dead. Though much was decayed and rotten, shelves were orderly and well stocked. Jars of dried poppies covered an entire wall, the flowers' colours faded and lost to time like the rest of the tomb.

Exiting the preparation room, the company discovered a large funerary chamber.

Along one wall stood a life-sized statue of Iridia carved of solid alabaster and gold. The statue looked forlornly down on a low dias. Once perfect rows of benches filled the remainder of the chamber, facing the statue and dias. River could imagine the ancient halla placing their dead upon the altar, gathering in the now ruined and smashed pews to sing songs to the Goddess of Spring, evoking her name and asking her to guide the dead to Elysium. It was much the same ritual as that practiced by the sun-worshipping ponies.

More draugen bodies filled this room, a half dozen in all, most bearing the same marks as the one in the tunnel. Others had been ripped in half by some spell, scorch marks marring the stone between the two pieces. One draugen hung suspended from the roof by an ebony spear. River’s mouth fell open at the sight.

River’s father had always said that her mother was a powerful sorceress, perhaps the greatest one to live since the great Star Swirl. The stories had been nice, but always that, stories. To be confronted by the evidence made River feel small again. Forcing the nostalgia aside, River left the ruined funeral chapel.

Beyond, the tunnel widened, three halla easily able to trot side-by-side touching neither the walls nor themselves. Here there were many doors leading to dorms, classrooms, kitchens, and feast halls. Gamla Uppsala may now be a tomb, but in her prime she had been a city. The tomb could never return to her former glory, many of the tunnels and rooms collapsed and buried underneath thousands of tons of stone and rubble. Despite this, little dust sat on the ground, disturbed by the tread of draugen raised when the queen’s champions had opened the tomb many years ago.

Drawn ever on by the growing whispers, River turned down a rougher passageway. Here the dust grew thicker, only a single set of hoofprints showing the way Velvet had passed all those years before.

With the hiss of steel, Llallawynn was unsheathed, the magical blade glowing with silvery light in the absolute black of the tomb. She stopped in front of a small door, a broken lock hanging limply from its handle, and pressed an ear to the crumbling wood. On the other side River could hear the whispers were loudest, and mingled among them was singing, a voice low and filled with a dark passion.

Núle, nahamlye.

Núle, tuluiden.

Empower this broken form,

Give it the strength I deserve.

Starfire courses through my soul,

Of which is justly mine alone.

Pushing the door open, River slunk into the adjoining chamber, followed by the other Halla.

It was a wide, circular room with two levels. River and the others stood on the upper level. A thick ring with old stone benches, it had once been a gallery from whence the priestesses could gaze down upon the lower area.

Here, the floor was divided into two parts by a ring of seven columns. Crawling from the recessed tombs of former High Priestesses, wraiths swarmed in a hissing, roiling mass of hatred and wickedness. They were denied access to the heart of the chamber by a wall of purple-white flames slowly growing higher and higher. And there, in the centre, dancing and singing, was the shade herself. She spun through the air above a pile of white bones, magic flowing from her voice to touch black glowing runes carved into the floor.

“I never imagined…” Hoof growled. “This is necromancy. If she completes this ritual, there won’t be a Halla alive that could stop that abomination.”

River nodded in agreement, looking for a way to the lower section of the chamber. There was a narrow, rotten set of steps, but it descended into the heart of the wraiths. It’d be impossible to slip the spectres, not without drawing their attention. At the moment they were focused inwardly, howling and hissing at the shade.

Núle, nahamlye.

Núle, tuluiden.

Stolen from me, my flesh was torn,

Let it be returned so I may enact my retribution.

A year would too long a wait,

To rain starfire down upon the vile thief.

Tendrils of magic burst from the runes, grabbing the bones and lifting them high. Coiling around the skeleton, the fog became sinew and tendon, muscle and organ. Their screams clawing at the Hallas’ ears, the wraiths tried to assault the fiery barrier, only to be driven back.

“Mountain, throw me,” River commanded, seeing no other alternative to pass the wraiths and interrupt the ritual in time.

“Gladly!” Mountain grinned wide, grabbing River with his magic, and after a quick couple steps, he launched her high and fast.

Núle, nahamlye.

Núle, tuluiden.

Vengeance will be mine,

Upon she who stole my stars, my daughter and my hope.

I am reborn,

I am reborn!

Landing with a bone jarring whump, River hardly paused before driving forward. Llallawynn slashed down, cutting one of the lurid tendrils with a clean strike. The severed magic collapsed in on itself, raining motes of glowing dust upon the ritual. A harsh howl ripped from the fog, her frightening countenance shifting to peer down on River.

“You,” snarled the shade, her partially formed body lowering to the altar. Wings of flayed flesh extended, ichorous magic dripping like blood from the tips of growing feathers. “I remember you. My foals, you tried to steal my foals.”

The rune River had disrupted began to glow anew, a thin stream of energy snaking towards the shade. Caressing the spell as if it were a lover’s cheek, the shade smirked wide.

“Can you hear them? I can. They call to me, screaming my name. ‘Astraea, Astraea, protect us, guide us, love us!’ I hear it always, for they are me,” Astraea, her body half formed, hopped from the altar, bones clicking under growing flesh.

Sinew by sinew, bone by bone, Astraea transformed from shapeless fog into a slim pegasus. Patches of ruddy fur appeared upon her back while a midnight purple mane fell in tangled clumps over her neck. Upon Astraea’s flank appeared a mark of five twisted runes forming the points of a star.

“I hear the spirit of this place crying in agony over the perversion you seek to accomplish,” River snapped, slowly circling the glowing runes, disrupting a few only to have them restart their magic after a moment.

“You can’t understand. You’re just a mortal. Hollow. Alone. Singular,” Astraea snorted, her eyes growing into narrow, violet slits.

Behind Astraea, through the wall of fire, River could see movement, large shapes running and fighting, highlighted by the occasional burst of a spell. She could not see or hear more than dull shouts and the thumping of earth elemental magic, the fires growing too tall, touching the roof and completely cutting River and Astraea off from the outside world.

“I don’t need to understand, only stop you,” River responded, jumping forward while conjuring an orb of frost between her antlers.

Spells clashed, frost bursting against flame in a twisting dance of white and violet. Llallawynn cut and slashed in a silver cyclone of enchanted steel, the blade narrowly missing time and again as Astraea weaved or turned the sword aside with precise sweeps of magic coated wings.

Around and around they moved, neither speaking, each focused on the other. Shifting the tempo, River brought Llallawynn close in a guard while coating the inner circle of the chamber in a biting frost. Feathers fully formed on her wings, Astraea took to the air with a triumphant howl. Along with her, Astraea pulled the walls of fire, curling them into tight balls beneath each wing.

Gamla Uppsala trembled as the twin spells fell upon River. The first she turned aside with Llallawynn. The second burst upon the blade, picking River up and throwing her against the far wall with a resounding crack.

Stars popped behind River’s eyes as she pushed herself back up. With the barrier dropped, the wraiths turned from the company of Halla and threw themselves at Astraea. The air was rent by their unnatural screams, the wraiths reaching with hungry hooves. A single word from Astraea’s lips halted their advance, the wraiths hovering around her as if they’d been caught in a web.

When Astraea descended, Death followed in her wake, the wraiths forming a shell around her. Supported by her magic, the wraiths fell upon the Halla, driving them back. Spells crackled and screeched, the chamber filled with blinding flashes and shouts.

Pushing herself forward, River dove back into the battle. Llallawynn struck down wraith after wraith, but more crawled from the tombs lining the walls. Their numbers were almost endless, fed by generations of the dead laid to rest within the ancient city. Unless Astraea could be stopped the battle was certain to be lost.

Putting everything into a last, desperate assault, River charged through the wraiths’ ranks. Their cold claws tore River, digging through the gaps of her armour into the soft flesh beneath. Llallawynn plunged towards Astraea’s throat, carried onwards by the hope of the Halla. At the last moment Llallawynn was diverted, the killing stroke only taking the light from one of Astraea’s eyes.

Shrieking, Astraea lashed out with all her power, hurling Halla and wraith alike back. Blood rushing down her face, Astraea stood amid the carnage, clutching her now blind eye. Fury gave her a truly fearsome countenance as she struck reflexively at the Halla. The chamber was punctuated by seven more screams as one by one the members of River’s company were felled.

It was hopeless, River realised, propping herself against the wall. Astraea was too powerful. Hopeless. Futile. They were all going to die, and for nothing.

Pushing herself further up the wall, the room spinning violently, River tried to watch what was happening. She saw movement, a blur of brown and black, heard the dull roar of someone shouting, and then a tremendous boom that sent her sprawling again. Her face landed with a splat in a growing pool of her own blood, her antlers cracking on the stone. Inches in front of her nose, Llallawynn lay abandoned, the silver blade throbbing with a dull light that slowed with each passing second.

A green aura lifted the blade, River floating along beside Llallawynn. River’s head rolled to the side, and she saw Vixen carrying her, Mountain a few strides behind them.

“Go, warn the vales! I will slow her down as much as I can,” Mountain roared, spinning to buck one of the support columns. Cracks formed up the column, culminating in the stone shattering under a second thunderous blow.

Around them, Gamla Uppsala shook, great granite blocks crashing down in a shower of dust and splinters that peppered River and Vixen’s armour. River couldn’t hold back a scream at the cold fire coursing through her from the wraiths’ claws. It was a great mercy when she fell into blackness and shadow.

* * *

“Greetings. I am, as you probably know, Princess Luna.”

Though her face was a dispassionate mask, one her sister wore so much more frequently and with greater ease, inside Luna was a swarming sea of excitement and anxiety.

When Bonnie had arrived at Fluttershy’s cottage to tell Luna that Shyara was not only in Ponyville —as Luna had suspected— but was at her home, Luna had been beside herself in anticipation of finally meeting the elusive filly. She had tried not to show it, to keep up regal appearances, but Luna hadn’t been able to contain the skip in her hooves nor the slight fluttering of her wings. Even the information that Shyara had been discovered because of a fight hadn’t been able to dampen her spirits.

Recalling the unusual method Tyr used to introduce herself, Luna added, “Goddess of the Moon, Primarch and Shepherd of the Night, daughter of Faust, and mother of Cadence.”

Shyara recoiled as Luna took another step into the room, but it also seemed to snap her out of whatever grim thoughts possessed her.

Ceasing her trembling, Shyara held her head high as she said in a squeaking voice, “Shyara, Goddess of Secrets, daughter of Astraea, Goddess of the Stars, by Nessus, God of Lies and Trickery.”

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Shyara,” Luna intoned. “You’ve lead us on quite the chase. Though I have to wonder, why are you in Ponyville rather than Canterlot? Were you and Miss Lulamoon not required to present yourselves to the court no later than last Friday?”

Internally, Luna cringed at the harshness in her voice. She knew her reputation as a stern and remorseless figure all too well, and hated how she always fell back into the old, aloof patterns when stressed or anxious. Trying hard to suppress the coldness in her tone and expression, Luna put on a vaguely warm smile, brushing past her own questions before Shyara could formulate a response.

“Nevermind, what’s done is done, as they say,” Luna said, relieved that the sharp bite in her voice had lessened.

“Are you going to… blast me into ashes now?” Shyara trembled, scooting towards a corner of the room.

“‘Blast you’?” Luna repeated, jerking back at the absurdity of the question. “Is that why you failed to arrive in Canterlot? Because you thought we’d ‘blast' you?”

A sharp giggle made Luna’s wings tremble and her mane snap as mirth boiled throughout her. The subject wasn’t all that funny, more so given what had occured with Tyr and her fostering, but Luna couldn’t help but laugh at the notion that she or her sister would ‘blast’ any filly. Even as the Nightmare, Luna hadn’t dreamed of harming any of the fillies and colts. Not when they would scream and hide under their beds at her passing, and not when they’d sit at their window sills praying for Celestia to bring back the sun.

“No,” Luna shook her head still giggling like a schoolfilly, “neither of us even began to think about ‘blasting’ you.” Luna paused and then said something she instantly regretted. “We don’t blast or smite ponies any more.”

Luna cringed as the words left her mouth while Bonnie shook her head.

“So, you do blast ponies!”

“Not anymore,” Luna stressed, grimacing at her own words.

Suspicion in her eyes and voice, Shyara pressed Luna, asking, “When was the last time?”

Luna made to respond only to turn her gaze to the ceiling in thought.

"A thousand years…" she muttered to herself as her hoof tapped an odd rhythm on the floor. "Many years ago, but that was in the heat of battle when..." her voice trailed off as a haunted look came over her. Quickly shaking it off, she continued, "The important point is that we are not going to blast, smite, or otherwise punish you.” A polite cough from Bonnie made Luna quickly add, “For being who you are.”

“B-But… when I prayed to Celestia in Vanhoover, and she came and burnt the city, and then I ran away, and she was so angry, and… and… I thought you were all mad at me.” Shyara pressed her ears flat to her head as she spoke, unable to look up at Luna.

“Yes, she went to save you from the shadowfiend and shade attacking the city.”

“W-What about on the train?” Shyara slowly uncurled from her ball. “Blueblood locked me up on the train. It made me think that maybe I did something wrong, or you were all angry at me and…”

“Wait, Blueblood? What does he have to do with anything?” The sharpness returned to Luna’s voice, as it always did, when she thought of the duke.

Hesitating, Shyara replied in a timid voice, “He found me on the train with Bonnie. I thought he was a nice pony, but he isn’t. He’s mean and selfish.”

“Yes, he is,” Luna agreed, unable and unwilling to contain any of the bitterness seeping into her tone. “We will have words with that… wastrel when we return to the palace,” Luna promised, the room darkening at her anger. “No doubt he ordered you to remain silent on the subject?” Luna cast a glance at Bonnie, receiving a slight nod of confirmation. “Threatening dire reprisals if you didn’t comply as well. Useless, self-absorbed, mare-mongering wretch. It is long past due for Cadence and I to have a conversation about what to do about the duke.”

Bonnie smirked at Luna’s words, saying, “I thought this would come into the light.”

“You did right, Bonnie,” Luna muttered, struggling to regain control of her anger. It always proved difficult when Blueblood was involved. “These games are best for a merchant to avoid.”

“What’s going to happen to Shyara now?” Sweetie asked, jumping off her bed in order to move to Shyara’s side.

“I had thought to bring her to Canterlot. However, there was a complication yesterday, and my sister thinks it best if I join Cadence and her herd in the Crystal City for a while.” Luna made no attempt to hide her dislike of the ‘plan’, as if running away could be called such. She had a few hours left to decide what to do before the train carrying Cadence and the others would pass through Ponyville.

On one hoof, Luna was thrilled with the idea of spending time with her estranged daughter. But Cadence would resent her presence. Especially if it was forced upon Cadence and her herd. There was also the tiny fact that Luna hated the idea of leaving Celestia alone with Zeus.

Selene had spotted the God of Storms as he lounged on a cloud-bed in Twilight’s old room, a book held in one hoof, a slice of pizza in the other, and a bowl of tomatoes sitting on his belly. It had not been how Luna had wanted to discover that one of the alicorns that had attacked her mother had reached the capital.

The morning papers had filled in the rest of the blanks. Headlines such as ‘Mystery Suitor to Court the Sun?’ and ‘Zeus, the Alicorn Stallion: Who Is He?’ had caught Luna’s eyes when she collected the papers from Fluttershy’s doorstep. Naturally, the rags were filled almost entirely with speculation and guesswork in addition to accounts of the events during court. Luna had just finished with the Canterlot Tribune and was beginning to read The Protector when Cadence’s letter asking Luna to join her in the Crystal City had materialised. It didn’t take Luna more than a few moments to realise the letter was Celestia’s idea.

“Is that whole Zeus thing real, then?” Bonnie asked, having read the papers as well. “Seems like a bad romance novel, dont’cha know.”

“Zeus?” Shyara jumped as if bitten. “What’s Grandfather doing on Ioka? He never, ever, ever leaves Gaea. Ever! Oh, this is bad. This is very, very bad.”

Shyara began to wring her hooves, glancing out a window as if she’d be able to spot Zeus in Canterlot.

“I agree, it is a most troubling development.” Luna nodded slowly.

“No, you don’t understand,” Shyara growled, switching to pacing back and forth. “Zeus is the only thing that held Gaea together. With him gone, Gaea will descend into chaos not seen since Nightstallion Anarchy appeared and destroyed Helios. The War of Light will be a picnic next to this. At least then Ares and the other Titans had to try to be somewhat covert and subtle to avoid attracting Zeus’ attention. With him gone it’ll be worse than… than… I can’t think of an analogy bad enough!

“Every little feud and grievance will be brought back up. Perses is going to have a field day with all the petty vengeance.” Shyara rubbed her temples as her ears began to flick, the corner of her right eye twitching. “And I left my first real friend there! Trixie and Rarity are stuck there, and they have no idea how bad Gaea can be when everything is going smoothly. Now? It’s like giving some earth ponies spears and telling them to fight Lepidus!”

A short giggle from Bonnie broke Shyara out of her rant. “Don’t you worry about my Rarity. She knows how to take care of herself.” Trotting to her daughter and Shyara, Bonnie wrapped them both in a crushing hug. “And don’t worry about your friend,” she said to Shyara, before she turned to Sweetie, adding, “or you about your sister. If there is a way home, Rarity will find it. I taught her everything I know. She’s a Belle, and we Belles are tough.”

Luna couldn’t help but wonder if Bonnie’s faith was misplaced. The few stories and hints of her home Tyr had let slip had painted a bleak and desolate picture: one filled with continual war and bloodshed, often in the name of appeasing one of many alicorns that made the world their home. She didn’t mention this, knowing that in the absence of action false hope was better than cold truth.

Looking up sweetly at her mother, Sweetie asked, “So, we’re not grounded then?”

“No, you’re both very grounded. Two weeks sounds about right for fighting, wouldn’t you agree, Princess?”

“It sounds… appropriate,” Luna said after contemplating the idea.

“Aww,” Sweetie intoned while Shyara just tossed up her hooves, snapping, “What in Gaea is ‘Grounded’?”

Luna, Bonnie, and even Sweetie all gave Shyara surprised looks.

“It means we have to stay in our rooms with no dessert or games,” Sweetie explained.

“What? I thought we were going to be tossed into holes or something!” The exasperation and relief Shyara felt clearly evident as the filly collapsed onto her back, wings splayed and tail flicking side-to-side. “Ioka is a strange place,” she concluded, giggling to herself.

“So Tyr keeps saying.” Luna joined in Shyara’s giggling. “Shyara, I’m going to put this choice to you. Do you want to go to Canter—”

“No!” Shyara quickly rolled to her hooves, eyes wild and frantic once more. “No, not with Zeus there! Grandfather will smite me for sure.”

Luna frowned at the certainty in Shyara’s voice and eyes, but didn’t argue the point. Shyara knew Zeus far better than any other pony except perhaps Tyr or the numerous shades. Those with intelligence and memory enough to recall Zeus anyways.

“Very well, then do you wish to go to the Crystal City with Tyr?”

Shyara considered this option for some time, pressing a hoof to her chin and eyes growing distant. In the end, she shook her head.

“No, I don’t think that is a good idea either. The hemmravn think that Ponyville is the best place for me to learn about my domain and the powers it grants me.”

Nodding, Luna said, “Then you and I will remain here, for the time being, and… what do ponies call it? House sit, yes, that is it. We shall house sit for Fluttershy while she is away. Is that acceptable?”

“I guess,” Shyara mumbled after receiving a little nod from Sweetie. “I have a little question though.” Shyara waited for Luna to motion for her to proceed. “Well, I said I’d help Sweetie and her friends with their act for the Summer Sun Talent Show. I was wondering if we’d still be able to do that if we’re grounded?”

It was Bonnie who answered, a low chuckle under her breath as she spoke. “Course you can. Can’t speak for the others, but if it’s okay with the princess, you can have a couple of hours in the afternoon to work on your act.”

“That is agreeable,” Luna bruskly said, stepping towards the door and motioning with a wing for Shyara to follow. “Come, Shyara, we should get you settled before we begin to explore your domain. I am very curious how you hide your presence so effortlessly.”

“Yeah, mother always used to complain about that too,” Shyara quipped as she followed Luna, a slight skip in her step.

Luna let out a long relieved breath, thanking Bonnie and promising a royal favour, should Bonnie ever require one. There was still much to do. Celestia needed to be covertly informed that Shyara was, finally, found. It was a small victory, one that gave Luna hope that they’d at last turned the corner and things would begin to settle.

* * *

Twilight woke from her nap feeling not quite rested, but no longer twitchy and nervous. Yawning, she stretched and looked out the window to see Zerubaba spread out below the carriage as it wound its way up towards the palace along a steep road. Just beyond a short barrier, the hill fell away to the manors of the Empire’s nobility and wealthy, on the other side a sharp incline lead to the battlements of the old castle that had sat upon the hill before the palace.

Faust was seemed lost in thought, staring out over the city and golden fields beyond.

“That was nice,” Twilight moaned. Checking her mane, she found Polaris still perched upon her brow, the star lost in a deep slumber and the carriage filled with her twinkling light. “Are we almost there?”

“Just about.”

Lifting a brow at her aunt’s disinterested tone, Twilight asked, “What’s concerning you?”

“It’s… nothing.” Faust shook her troubles away, putting on a brave smile as the carriage rounded a bend and entered the Golden Palace’s parade grounds.

A small army of guards and servants stood in rigid lines as the carriages drew to a stop and their doors were opened.

The Golden Palace proudly overlooked Zerubaba, a shining jewel in the noonday sun, her walls of pale yellow stone covered in reliefs and figurines. Four stories tall, with a roof of green copper, the palace was half-way through a truly massive reconstruction. Long neglected by the Malin dynasty of queens, the palace had fallen into disrepair and near ruin before the rise of the empress. Claiming all the nearby estates, the empress was creating a monument to reflect the greatness of her nation.

The entire southern side of the hill had been transformed into an open zoo, accessible only to the empress and the animal caretakers. Here, she collected birds and beasts from across the disc. It was her pride and joy, her sanctuary, and —some dared to whisper— her prison.

Today the din of the crafters’ hammers and chisels was gone. Scaffoldings removed, the great banners of the empress hung over the open walls of the western wing surrounding the parade grounds.

Twilight stepped out of the carriage and into the shade cast by the massive statue of a red dragon. The statue was so lifelike, she wouldn’t have been surprised if it turned to look at her. Each individual scale had been carved with loving care, the horns on the chin and crest real dragon bone. It wasn’t until one of the large golden eyes swung down to watch her, a thin puff of smoke exiting his nostrils, that Twilight realised the dragon was alive.

“Hui Humma, Stars,” the dragon rumbled, the scales at the corners of his eyes crinkling in a smile. Shifting his gaze to Faust, he dipped his head into a very slight bow. “Aiya Thuëlya. Andanéya, varnal emya qualmello. Vérelna úpaitya rhotan. Vanta moica ara Maatsheptra.” His voice echoed like bottled thunder inside the courtyard’s arms.

“Aiya Kéychlivék,” Faust replied, returning the dragon’s greeting.

Kéychlivék smiled at the use of his draconian name. The smile quickly vanished, replaced by cool indifference as the wyrm resumed staring out over the city below. Passing the dragon, Twilight lead the way onto a long, red carpet walkway.

Arrayed on either side of the carpeted walk to the palace’s colossal doors, the guards and servants bowed at the command of Halphamet, the crash of spears on shields and the heavy tread of armoured hooves ringing in the air. Guards stood before the servants, and before the guards were their commanders, and beside each of them was an ifrit.

As before, Twilight had to fight the urge to return the bows.

She waited for Rainbow, Pinkie, Fleur, and Timely to exit their carriages and join her before she slowly made her way forward.

Twilight felt almost a pretender as she glanced at the thousands of gathered zebras. She was a librarian and scholar, a mage of some repute, and the foster daughter of a minor noble. The last vestiges of her old self-concept vanished fully as Twilight passed the endless, bowing lines. The complete faith in her flowing from zebricans completed what the prayers of the sailors aboard the Bellerophon had started.

Their reverence made her skin crawl. Her doubts resurfacing.

Unable to do anything but move forward —Twilight could hardly scamper back to her quarters in the Bellerophon and hide in her bunk— she put on a brave face, and reminded herself that compared to claiming that Cadence was an imposter in front of the wedding rehearsal, this was far less stressful, or liable to end in disaster.

Hovering on the edge of a daze, Twilight entered the palace, barely noting the tile mosaics covering floor, walls, and ceiling. Tall enough to accommodate the dragon sitting outside, the halls felt airy and immense. Inside as without, the walk was lined by bowing zebras, these all the wealthy merchants and what in Equestria would be considered the gentry, filling the gap between commoner and nobility. Evenly spaced out among them were more ifrit, the spirits’ manes making the walls glow with a ruby countenance.

Finally, the last set of doors swung open, the groaning of their hinges making the palace tremble. The ancient oak was covered in carvings depicting the founding of Zebrica. At the bottom, little zebra figures cast griffons into pits, Samalla standing on a low rise as she dictated the terms of the Compact to five supplicating kings. Above this was an image of the Battle of Blackrock. Here the zebra army and shamans had crushed the griffons, bringing generations of subjugation and enslavement to a brutal end. On the ground the soldiers were depicted using crossbows and ballistae to bring down the griffons, while the air was filled what appeared to be blossoming stars. Griffons fell out of the sky in scores. Again, Samalla was shown, the ancient heroine above the battle on a golden chariot of fire pulled by a dragon. The top half of the great door held the images of Samalla’s years forced to serve the griffons, and her time spent being experimented upon, ending with her claiming freedom.

Past the great doors, the imperial throne room echoed the rest of the palace, beyond grand in size and opulence. Here, the nobles stood, each wearing rings of gold around their necks and clothes in the Equestrian fashion. Minor nobles stood near the walls, the important lords and ladies next to the carpet or empress. Between them and Twilight, at attention, were the elite Empress’ Guards, their embossed armour sparkling. The entire chamber was made of alabaster, with gold-plated pillars running the length to the raised throne. Shawls of gold, crimson, and green silk were draped around the throne, hiding the empress. All except for two glowing points of light and a dark outline that shifted from side to side as Twilight entered the throne room.

Beside the throne, the crier raised her voice, an enchantment making it echo throughout the entire palace.

“To her Serene Imperial Majesty, Maatsheptra; Queen of the mighty Zebrican River, Empress of all the lands south of the great Dragon Desert, slayer of a dozen dragon raiders, Mother of East and West Zebrica, the glorious might of the empire, it is my solemn pleasure to announce her Divine Highness, Twilight Abigail Sparkle; Princess of the Taiga, Goddess of the Stars and Wishes, Diarch of the Night, She who cured the Nightmare and returned Sol, She who bested Chaos and returned Him to his cage, and her Divine Majesty, Faust Harmonious; Queen of All Ponies, Goddess of the Great Weave of Life, Mother of the Sun and Moon, Namegiver and Winter-Breaker.”

Bowing first to Twilight and Faust, then to the hidden empress, the crier backed off the dais.

“Long have I awaited your arrival,” the empress intoned in a voice floating and melodic. “The visions of this day have blessed my dreams since I was a foal. I am not disappointed.”

Twilight wasn’t surprised to feel magic lacing the empress’ voice, a minor enchantment meant to induce awe and respect. She was, however, caught off guard by the power contained within the magic’s source. While still not comparable to the energy given by an alicorn, it was, nevertheless, far beyond what any regular pony or zebra should have been able to produce. Curiosity about the empress washed away Twilight’s doubts.

There was a spicy aftertaste to the magic, vaguely reminiscent of the sun, but with a cool breath of mint as well that lingered in the air. Twilight easily placed the elemental and bright runes within the spell, but there was another component, one that surprised her. It was frizzy, and crackled, with a happy familiar bounce. It was the unmistakable energy of a Chaos Rune.

The Empress stepped down from her throne, the light falling upon her and showing Twilight the truth.

She was taller than Twilight had suspected, perhaps taller than Celestia, with a powerful chest, broad neck, and a brow that looked to have been chiseled from stone. It wasn’t an unpleasant face to look upon, but Twilight wouldn’t have called the empress ‘fair’ or ‘pretty’ if not for the glistening golden scales encircling her face, highlighting yellow, cat-like eyes. From just behind her ears rose a pair of spiralling horns. A thick, red and orange striped mane parted her horns, the strands almost dancing like the flames they imitated, hanging over the scales flowing down her neck. The scales were larger along her shoulders and down her back, and Twilight suspected they’d be hard as steel, yet supple as the coat of a panther. Thick shaggy fur mimicking her mane grew about her lower legs and a great cloud on the end of her tail. The Empress only had short white fur down her throat and on her underside.

A Kirin! Half dragon and half pony, or in the case of the empress, zebra. Twilight had read of the elusive creatures in mythology. Always the stories had them as heroes or villains, powerful beings of great purpose. Never were they plain or common, born to accomplish feats beyond mere ponies. The last kirin in Equestria had been Gem Flare the Resolute, a warrior-priestess of the Namegiver. She had died at the age of three hundred and seven in her bed in the year 849, Equestrian Reckoning.

Empress Maatsheptra smiled as she approached, giving Twilight a view of her sharp, predatory teeth. Her steps were precise and measured, a graceful flow that could not be matched, heightened by Maatsheptra’s shimmering scales. Everything about her sang of beauty and sensuality, a deep, passionate fire burning like embers behind her draconian eyes.

“Hui Humma, Mistress of Stars and Wishes,” the Empress said, her voice soft like the down of ducklings. The greeting was repeated to Faust. The remainder of Twilight’s party was ignored.

It took half a moment for Twilight’s brain to re-engage itself, and she replied, “Hui Humma, Empress of Zebrica.”

A few within the crowd gasped when Maatsheptra bowed her head to the two alicorns, and Twilight returned the gesture. Faust did not.

“You honour me, Stars, but I am far from thy equal.” Maatsheptra gave a slight laugh. Facing Twilight’s friends, the empress did not bow as she spoke to each. “Pinkamena Diane Pie, Rainbow Dash, it is fascinating to meet you both.”

“Hiya!” Pinkie bounced forth, reaching out to grab Maatsheptra’s hoof and give it a vigorous shake before she could be stopped. “Wow, you’re so shiny! Like Spike after the time he fell into Gummy’s pots of scale-wax. How do you do it? Gummy always looks so dull again after only a few hours playing outside.”

Grabbing ahold of Pinkie, Twilight pulled her friend away from the empress, all too well aware of the thunderous looks beneath the guards’ helms. The ifrit pulled back their lips to snarl at Pinkie, ears folding back and tails lashing.

“I’m sor—”

A quickly raised hoof by Maatsheptra begged Twilight’s silence, the empress’ not taking her gaze off Pinkie.

“This is my natural lustre, Pinkamena,” Maatsheptra slowly intoned. “As Celestia evokes the caress of Sol upon the disc, Luna is a gateway to the night, and Twilight carries the stars, I am the endless flame of the savanna.”

“Ooooh, I see,” Pinkie rapidly bobbed her head. “Mystical!”

“Indeed.” The word was followed by a thin laugh. “Finally, we come to the great conundrum. Fleur de Lis, she who hovers between mortality and eternity. So much about you is uncertain. Yours is a fate not to be envied.”

Performing a deep bow, Fleur said, “Better I than another, non?”

“Most assuredly.” Maatsheptra’s eyes hardened into yellow spears. “Any other and… No, I speak out of turn.”

Twilight wanted to ask what the empress knew of Fleur and Athena, and more importantly, how she knew. While it could have been that Maatsheptra could sense the growing energy radiating off Fleur —it had grown to a point where side-by-side Fleur and Maatsheptra seemed equals in power— Twilight suspected more was at play. While there was certainly a large amount of theatrics by Maatsheptra, Twilight could see the underlying cunning within the empress’ eyes.

Deciding to add the questions to the ever-growing list Twilight had in her head, she turned and signaled her cadre of guards to step forward with the chest containing the gifts for the empress. Within the large chest sat four smaller boxes, each reflecting the originator of the gift.

Celestia’s box was made from a single pearl grown by the dragon-turtles of the Peycific Ocean. Banded in gold and protective wards, the box alone was worth a fortune greater than those held by many a king or queen. Within was a treasure greater still, for the box contained one of Philamena’s eggs, Celestia’s trusted phoenix companion.

Lapis Lazuli had been used to construct Luna’s box, with platinum inlays and latches on the side. Upon the lid was inscribed the crest of the moon, a gentle, pale light making the box glow. Inside, on a velvet cushion, sat what at first glance seemed to be an ordinary, grey stone. Maatsheptra’s eyes lit up as she lifted the stone, holding it high for the gathered court to see.

“A true Moonstone,” the empress breathed in awe, causing the crowd to shift and murmur. “There are but three on the disc.”

Placing the stone back within its box, Maatsheptra turned her attention to the gift sent by Cadence. The largest of the boxes, it was long and slender, made from crystal grown within the Crystal City. Unlike the others, Maatsheptra didn’t reveal what the box contained, quickly snapping the lid shut again, a long laugh making her shake and the corners of her eyes crinkle.

As she came down from her mirth, Maatsheptra set the box down protectively beside her, saying, “Princess Cadence is an interesting one.”

At last, Maatsheptra came to Twilight’s gift.

Shifting nervously from hoof to hoof as her box was removed from the chest, Twilight watched Maatsheptra for any reaction. Unlike the opulence of the previous ones, Twilight’s box was simple, plain rosewood with a little brass lock. What couldn’t be seen were the layers of magic Twilight had placed onto the box. It was an ancient enchantment, one not practiced since the days of Star Swirl the Bearded.

Inside, the box was vastly larger than its outside dimension should have allowed; a cavernous pocket capable of containing a similar volume as the entirety of Canterlot’s vaults. At the moment there was only one small object within: a single seed of the Sparkle flower. It was both a very personal gift —the Sparkles never gave away the seeds of their flowers— and a valuable one. Not because the flowers had some powerful magical properties —they were completely ordinary and non-magical— and they weren’t precisely rare either. But they were closely tied to House Sparkle.

Maatsheptra’s face was unreadable as she gazed down on the simple seed. Twilight began to chew on her lower lip as, still impassive, the empress placed the seed back into the box, and set both back down.

“How many?” she asked, still looking at the box.

“That’s the first in almost twelve hundred years,” Twilight answered.

“I’m honoured you would intrust me with one,” Maatsheptra tore her eyes away from the box, her smile making Twilight breath with relief. “These are all truly impressive gifts. I hope that in the coming years, our nations and subjects can come closer together. For tonight, we shall feast and you shall stay here in my palace as my treasured guests.”

Chapter Twenty-One: Two Dinners

Myths and Birthrights

By Tundara

Book Two: Ghosts of the North

Chapter Twenty-One: Two Dinners

Canterlot hummed with excitement. Not only was the summer solstice fast approaching—only three days remaining until the celebrations—but chatter of Zeus filled the capitol. It was like a colony of mice finding an unlocked cheese factory. Everywhere Celestia turned, Canterlot’s gossip mill was grinding the grist. It would have been almost amusing if the subject at hoof wasn’t so infuriating.

Celestia did her best to avoid snapping at the maids, especially those who worked in the west wing around Twilight’s tower. So far she’d been successful, mask held firmly in place, unfazed by the soft chittering and giggles. The real trouble came during Daycourt, where Celestia spent more time maintaining her poise than actively listening to petitioners.

The city proved to have more nobles still within her walls than Celestia had previously thought. Worse than their arrival at court, they all took the opportunity to approach the throne and not-so-subtly hint that if Celestia was looking for a husband, they—the nobles—could suggest many a good candidate. Lord Parallax had the temerity to suggest his own hoof in marriage.

Her mask had held under the relentless barrage, however. In a strong, steady voice, Celestia had bluntly told Lord Parallax ‘no’, then had him escorted from the palace. The guards on duty had taken extra pleasure in dragging the troublesome noble from the throne room, his indignant yells only making Celestia’s smile truer, rather than forced. After Lord Parallax’s removal, the other Lords and Ladies had mysteriously decided better than to test the Princess’ mood.

The second half of court had been better, with a return to the common caste and their simpler concerns. Celestia had given the blessings for a half-dozen marriages, settled a minor land dispute between branch members of the Orange and Agate clans that had resulted in yet another marriage somehow, and been asked to bless several foals with healthy and long lives. This last item proved to be rather troublesome, however.

“I can’t,” Celestia said, giving an apologetic smile to the first such couple, “the Sun has no control over the health of your foal.”

“But you’ve always blessed foals,” protested the father-to-be, taking an angry half-step forward.

“H-have we angered you, princess?” the expectant mother asked, her tail and ears falling.

“No, you have not,” Celestia said patiently, well aware how this conversation would go, and resolved that it was time to deal with yet another of the many false myths that surrounded her. “I’ve not always been asked to bless the lives of the unborn,” Celestia explained, descending from her throne as she spoke, “and had I known so long ago what I was starting, I would have refused the first time. But I was much younger, I was flattered, and I’ll admit a little vindictive. It hadn’t been that long since Hearthswarming and I was rather bitter towards most of my herd. So, I performed a lie. It is a lie I would continue if it remained only about instilling hope, even false as it has been. Except the one who can give you the blessing you seek has returned.

“It’s been fifteen hundred years, and it’s about time I let go of the past. I may not forgive her, but it’s high time that I stopped taking what is hers and letting anger rule my heart.”

“Who are you talking about, your Highness?” the mare asked, glancing to her husband for reassurance.

“Why, Iridia the Springbringer, of course,” Celestia said as if the answer were plain as the horn upon her brow.

Motioning for Chronicle to come to her side with a wave of one wing, Celestia took a scroll and quill. As she jotted down a series of instructions, Celestia said, “Do this and you will receive your blessing. It will be one far greater than the hollow promises I can give you.”

Glancing reverently at the scroll as it was passed into their trembling hooves, they thanked Celestia several times over, only stopping to read the instructions.

“Princess,” the stallion cautiously began, “this is in the Everfree, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Celestia said as she ascended her throne. “Go to Sweet Apple Acres and ask for Apple Bloom, she will be able to put you in touch with a suitable guide.” Celestia privately smiled as she thought back on her recent visit to the farm. Despite its nature, it was good seeing how the Ponyville branch of the Apple clan had fared over the past few years. “This will be much more involved than what you expected, I know, my little ponies. While I can’t guarantee success, or that your prayer will be answered in a great flash and show, I can tell you this; it will be heard.”

Celestia was called on to give the instructions a few more times before court ended, after which she went to visit the medical ward to see the recuperating guards. They were in high spirits when she entered the ward, a room long enough for all seven of them. Two guards had yet to wake, suffering from head injuries and kept in a medicated coma while they recovered. Most only had a few broken or cracked bones and would be released from the ward the next day with stern orders from the doctors to ‘take it easy’.

That none had been more severely hurt—or killed—had surprised Celestia. She’d fully expected far worse news when the battered guards had been taken to the doctors. Why Zeus held back puzzled Celestia, but she wasn’t about to question him about it either.

“Think we’ll get medals for this, Bulwark?” asked one of the privates to a burly sergeant, rank having gone out the window within the ward’s walls.

“Whatever would you want one of ‘em for?” replied the slate coated Bulwark, blowing a stray lock of mane out of his eyes.

Bereft of their enchanted armour, the injured guards looked little like their on-duty personas. Celestia preferred the enchantments to the dyes once used to create the same effect of uniformity.

The room became quiet as the guards noticed her presence, each giving her a long bow of the head.

“How is every pony faring?” Celestia asked as she made the rounds, making certain to sit beside each guard and listen to them talk about whatever they desired.

It was a pleasant, informal meeting that Celestia rarely got to enjoy with her guards. About half-way through, the guards’ families arrived for visiting hours, and the room was filled with smiles, laughter, and more than a few playfully stern reproaches.

“There we were, coming in to land,” Lieutenant Tally ‘Lefty’ Liberator said in a loud voice, retelling one of his many stories. “The balloon was torn in two places, and we hit with an almighty thump. Well, I was out and over the side ‘fore the ship came to a full stop. I poke my head up out of the field to see she’d come to rest a good hundred yards along. When I get to her, ol’ Shifty has just pushed open one of the observation ports. He looks down at me, gives me a queer look and says, he says, Hoo-hoo-hoo, he says to me, ‘Lefty, I thought you were with us! What’ve you been doing on the ground? We could have used you up there.’”

The lieutenant broke down into a fit of wheezing laughter, his daughters giving polite smiles at their father’s story.

Celestia wished she could have stayed with them longer, listening to their stories and good humour. More than a few proudly proclaimed that they’d fought a god and lived. The echoes of their good humour, especially when she promised that they’d all be getting medals for their actions, stayed with Celestia as she made her way towards the private wing of the palace.

“Has you-know-who left Twilight’s rooms?” Celestia asked as she entered the small dining room she normally used. It held little of the pomp or ceremony of the grand feast hall, with a plain table that could seat barely a half-dozen ponies comfortably, a display of flowers in the center. The room overlooked the aviary, Philomena looking up from her perch, orange and red plumage glowing in the late afternoon light. Smiling down on the pheonix, Celestia took her seat reaching for the already waiting glass of wine and slice of chocolate cheesecake.

“Not as-of-yet, your Highness,” Chronicle said as he took his own seat to Celestia’s left.

Celestia made a point of having non-formal dinners with her seneschal, just as Chronicle always maintained an air of civility and formality. He wasn’t the first—and he’d hardly be the last—to maintain such a relationship with Celestia, just as there were many seneschals over the years that had enjoyed the moments where they could let their manes down around the princess.

“That’s good,” Celestia responded to Chronicle’s answer, then shifted direction quickly, asking, “have you had success finding any promising apprentices?”

“None that are suitable to your needs…” Chronicle’s voice trailed off as the private door opened to admit Blueblood and his fiancé. Miss Shores bordered between haughty indifference and awe as she looked around the room and saw the only other occupants.

Reflexively, Celestia remembered the snippets of information she’d heard about Miss Shores from her niece and in passing. A common born mare from a village just outside Manehatten, Miss Shores had grown up in an orphanage. It had been singing a Hearths Warming carol when she’d discovered her talent in using music to bring cheer to foals. A financial sensation within the music community, she was also sneered at by the critical societies as ‘unrefined’ and ‘flash, with no substance’. Her career had also flagged recently as the younger generation either moved on to new things or grew older.

To Celestia, Sapphire’s most impressive accomplishment was that she’d tamed Blueblood. That he was willing to risk any of his stature within the nobility for anypony was nothing short of a miracle. Or perhaps a powerful enchantment. Celestia quickly discounted the idea; Blueblood showed no sign of enchantments. Still, with her recent mistakes during Cadence’s wedding, a little extra prudence couldn’t hurt.

“Auntie,” Blueblood said around his arrogant smirk, taking the seat to Celestia’s right, “I heard about what happened in court this morning. I’m not sure if—metaphorically speaking—castrating Lord Parallax was the wisest recourse.”

“Perhaps,” Celestia agreed as she sipped on her wine.

Seeing he’d not be able to press Celestia on the matter, Blueblood instead focused on Chronicle.

“I’m surprised at you, Chronicle. I’d have thought you able to keep Auntie’s mood swings in check by now,” Blueblood said before ordering a salad with blue cheese sauce and black truffles sauteed in red wine with shredded olives.

Chronicle smirked at the chastisement, while Celestia shot her ‘nephew’ a stern glance over her wine.

“As I’m sure you are aware, your grace, none of us truly have much control over the princesses. Which reminds me, how have your efforts with Cadence been proceeding? Not well I gather, since she only left this morning to return to the lands she ostensibly rules.”

Pressing his lips together, Blueblood was about to launch into a tirade, but was foiled by Celestia saying, “Miss Shores, my congratulations on your upcoming matrimonial bliss. It’s nice to know that my nephew has found somepony worthy of his love.”

“Thank you, your Highness,” Sapphire said, smiling genuinely before leaning over to give Blueblood a kiss on the cheek, one he readily reciprocated.

Not so easily dissuade, Blueblood soon returned to the topic of the Canterlot nobility.

“This won’t be the last you hear from Parallax. While playing cards today, the club was a stir with the news. Everypony knows that Parallax is a fool—it’s amazing he doesn’t put his vest on inside-out—but he has the ears of the Countess of Trotonto and the Earlessa of Colton.”

“A drunkard and a coward,” Chronicle readily dismissed the pair. “Together forming a trio of fools. Their threat has been minimal at best for years.”

“Perhaps,” Blueblood agreed, lifting his wineglass to his lips, “but with the news of auntie’s so-called ‘suitor’, the nobles are getting more and more nervous. They are a skittish bunch at the best of times, and very much prone to wanting to maintain the status-quo. Now dear Twilight has ascended. She’s a princess of another land, one Equestria has no practical ties with. Her birth mother has been lounging about Canterlot Castle, soaking in the excesses her position can afford her, and then vanishes as mysteriously as she appeared. And it’s only been a few years since grandmother returned from exile yet she was reinstated on her throne as if nothing had ever occurred.”

“You’re saying nothing we are not already aware of, Blueblood,” Chronicle snorted.

“Perhaps you should make an example of a few of these mortals, then,” interjected Zeus. The god stood in the open doorway, an apologetic servant behind him. Stepping forward, a happy briskness to his hooves, Zeus brandished a rose bush and a crate of chocolate. “I got these for you, my dear,” he said, placing the items with a thud before Celestia.

“They are…” Celestia paused, forcing her expression to remain neutral as she said, “Interesting.”

“Interesting, yes, indeed!” Zeus gave a booming laugh as he took a seat, waving the waiter over. “Bring me a decanter of your richest wine, six veggie burgers, a pizza with tomatoes and as many kinds of cheese as possible, fried plantains, and, hmmm, a baked salmon.”

The waiter looked for confirmation from Celestia before noting the order and departing.

Silence didn’t have time to contemplate entering the room before Zeus was talking, ignoring the looks sent his way by Blueblood and Chronicle.

“Interesting is exactly what I’d call Ioka,” he rumbled jovially. “The variation in everything is impressive. There is just so much!”

“Like…?” Sapphire asked innocently.

“Like… Everything!” Zeus exclaimed, thumping a hoof on the floor and making the mountain tremble. “This morning I saw a thing called a ‘Moving Picture’. This afternoon I was in a place known as a donut shop that had these delicious little round baked goods. There is too much to fully express in your lifetime, I’m afraid.”

Almost delirious with joy, it took Zeus a few more moments to fully note all the occupants of the room. When he did, he tilted his head, addressing Celestia. “You dine with mortals, my beloved dawn?”

“Yes, as I have done since I was foaled,” Celestia calmly stated, savouring the last bite of her cheesecake.

“But, they are mortals,” Zeus said, though not unkindly, tugging on his beard in thought. “Very odd, so very odd. But another of the many things to add that I love about you; the kindness you show the mortals.”

A particularly vivid barb danced on the tip of Celestia’s tongue, one that would have cut the insolent intruder to the marrow. She never got to cast it, as the door burst open again, a palace page hurrying in. The page gave her apologies as she bowed deeply, then passed a folded note to Chronicle.

His eyes had barely glanced at the paper before he let out a sharp curse, following it with, “Hackney has attacked the Prench grain convoy. The convoy managed to slip away only thanks to the determined efforts of Admiral Joyeuse Vallée’s fleet. She lost seven ships-of-the-line during the ensuing battle. Hackney captured the Juste, San Pareil, Achille, Impeteuex, Northumberland, and Equestria.”

Celestia broke in at this point to huff, “Never should have sold her to the Prench, even if she was old and her knees in need of replacing.”

“Indeed,” Chronicle quickly agreed. “Perhaps we’ll be able to negotiate with Hackney for her return, however. The Vengeur du Peuple, was sunk.” He shook his head, and it was with a look of utter dread that he read the next lines of the note aloud. ‘Having taken the survivors to the nearby island, it has been determined that Admiral Howl attacked while the Prench fleet was still within Equestrian waters. Below is the precise longitude and latitude.’”

Chronicle refolded the note and passed it to Celestia where she quickly confirmed its contents. A sickening dread settled in her stomach as she placed it on the table.

“Chronicle, please have the Hackney and Prench ambassadors brought to the palace.” Celestia’s voice was sharp as a sword, her eyes flashing with a cutting anger.

It had been a long time since Celestia could recall such a feeling of disappointment and anger. Several centuries, at least. Or the previous afternoon.

“Oh-ho, somepony is in for a smiting!” Zeus chortled, thumping the table a couple times.

“Zeus, kindly be quiet.” Celestia looked up with a rare desire to hit something. Her hoof trembled as she added, “Or, I will kick your flank back to wherever it is you came from. My patience is not unlimited, and you’ve already pressed it further than it has been tested in many, many years.”

“Fiery! I love it,” Zeus said, his typical booming laughter echoing throughout the room.

“Does this mean what I think it means, your Highness?” Sapphire’s voice was almost inaudible with Zeus’ continued hooting. “War?”

The word was like being splashed with ice-water.

“Perhaps, perhaps not,” Celestia set the note aside.

“Bah, raze their army,” Zeus suggested as he regained some semblance of control, though his eyes were still pinched with humour. “They have no patron to protect them from you. Remind them why you are not to be challenged.”

“Is that how you do things? Running about just trampling whatever you please?” Blueblood snorted, contempt clear across his brow.

“Generally, yes.” Zeus admitted, his previous good humour disappearing in a flash, leaving him thoughtful and stern. “Appearances must be maintained; mine just happens to be that of the unstoppable force. I don’t blame you for not understanding. You’re only a mortal, with a mortal’s perception of time. This world also has an absurd attachment to life, as if the few decades you spend alive amount to much in the grand scheme. You mortals spend far more time in either Elysium or Tartarus then you do on the mortal realms.”

“If our lives are so short, doesn’t it behoove us to ensure they are the best they can be?” Chronicle demanded.

“No, it doesn’t,” Zeus gave his head a slow shake. “Life is messy and full of conflicts. No one—not even us gods—can ensure everypony lives in comfort, without worry or care. What matters is how you carry yourself. Do you live with honour and a firm code, or descend into barbarism and cruelty?”

Celestia gave a soft laugh. All eyes moving to her, Celestia drank the last of her wine before saying, “You’re one to—”

Her words were cut short as a scream carried on the aether struck Celestia’s senses, making her grunt and press down her ears. Zeus cringed, turning his head this way and that, looking for the scream’s source.

“Great thundering mountains, that was loud,” Zeus grumbled, rubbing his ears.

Celestia didn’t respond, frozen to her chair in dread. She had recognised the voice behind the wail; Twilight.

* * *

The Grand Feasthall of the Golden Palace lived up to its name; a circular room supported by columns of black basalt stone speckled with rubies, sapphires and diamonds in the shapes of dragons taking wing, great gouts of flame and smoke rising from their open mouths. In the center of the ceiling the roof was left open, showing a clear, blue sky with a few puffy clouds lazily swimming along the breeze. By way of pulleys and levers placed in a hidden alcove, a series of slats could be extended if there was rain or a storm to protect those below.

Beneath the opening—in a great pit—were the kitchens. Chefs moved about in a flurry of activity, dicing vegetables, spicing soups and roasts, or barking orders at the sous chefs. This served two functions. It was a form of entertainment for zebras to watch food being prepared, and had been since they lived under the cruel regime of the griffons. In those ancient times, there had been singing and dancing while the village mares made dinner. The cooking fires were the heart of the village, and so too the Grand Feasthall was of Empress’ court.

Around the pit sat five huge tables. Each was made of a different stone, and served a different group of dignitaries.

The largest was the southern River table. Formed from a single, still living tree bent and shaped through ancient zebra magic, the table was where the lowest of the court, merchants, and their ilk sat.

To the east sat the Flame table, made of snowflake obsidian. Here sat the Djinn, the cabal of zebra sorcerers in service to the Empress. Feared as her secret guard, the Djinn held every important office or position within Zebrica. They were responsible for rooting out heresy, revolutionaries and the agents of other nations. It was a task for which they’d been proven to be frighteningly effective. This table appeared less crowded than most, but only because most could not see the ifrits, their fire spirits sitting beside their Djinn master. With the Djinn sat Twilight’s Royal Guards, their bright blue and purple uniforms standing out among the gold and scarlet of their hosts.

Across from the Flame table was the Rose table. Made of pink rose-quartz, the Rose table was covered in frescoes of its namesake flower. When night fell, the petals glowed with a soft light. At the Rose table sat the middle nobility, the zebra equivalent to countesses and baronesses. It was said a thousand lovers had found their Shi’lya Hramynn, their soul’s mate, beneath the moon while bathed in the light of the table.

Beside the Rose table there was no other table, only a large open area covered in deep gouges and claw marks. In the wall behind there stood a towering door, while between it and the kitchen pits was an iron stake and chain. Lord Kéychlivék sat at his ‘table’, a smug grin on his muzzle and a hard light behind his gold eyes.

Corresponding to the dragon-lord’s place was the Ocean table. Crafted from a sheet of crystal, it was a glimmering, white beacon of light within the hall, and where the generals, high nobles and foreign dignitaries of importance sat. At the heart of the table sat Pinkie and Rainbow, tended to by Lord Halphamet. With them sat diplomats from Hackney, Prance and Espanya. Pinkie’s distinctive laughter could be heard in every corner of the hall, bouncing from her throat as she sent up a stream of jokes.

Fleur gave the table a longing look from the final table; the Jade Thorn. A gift to Zebrica by Nieghpon, the entire table was a single piece of jade large enough to sit five ponies to a side. The legs had been carved to resemble vines, the table top a broad, jungle leaf. The smallest of the tables, only a few guests could be served comfortably along with the Empress.

Dinner had so far been relatively relaxed and joyous. Maatsheptra proved to be a wonderful hostess, putting forward a pleasant stream of conversation, asking Twilight about her family back in Equestria. The Empress seemed genuinely interested in Twilight, her brothers and sisters, and parents. Twilight took the questions well, her face glowing with a combination of pride and good wine. Fleur knew the empress had no interest in House Sparkle beyond knowing where to sink a blade that could wound Twilight the most.

Not that Fleur suspected Maatsheptra was plotting against Twilight.

“You’re very lucky, Princess, to be so close to your family still,” Timely commented from his spot on the other end of the table, past the empress and Faust.

His presence puzzled Fleur. She could at least partially understand why she’d been invited to dine at Maartsheptra’s table. It wasn’t her; it was Athena that Maatsheptra was honouring. But the doctor wasn’t important, as far as Fleur could see. Not beyond his medical expertise. That would put him at the River table, or maybe the Flame table with the guards and sorcerers, but not the Jade Thorn.

“I’ve hardly spoken to mine in years, not since my last mother passed away.” He spoke between bites of a traditional Equestrian dish; speckled potatoes. “All my sisters are married, as is my brother. I am the black sheep—if you’ll pardon the phrase—among my family.”

“But you’re a doctor,” Twilight exclaimed, talking past Maatsheptra and Faust. “How can they…” Twilight’s voice trailed off, followed by a slow, exasperated breath. “Of course, you are a Crown, of the House herd. They expected you to marry as part of some political alliance.”

“Indeed. But I put a stop to those capers long, long ago. Went to sea with Hardy and haven’t looked back once, I am pleased to say. It has proven troublesome though, being disowned by one’s relations.”

“What about you, your Majesty?” Twilight turned to Maatsheptra, her voice filled with honest innocence and curiosity.

There was no reply for some few minutes, the empress observing Polaris as the star hovered over the serving dishes.

“I have had many foals, naturally,” she said eventually. “Three daughters and five sons, to be precise.” There followed a pause as she pushed some beets around her plate. “Of them only two survive. I am kirin, and to have survived my foalhood required finding the harmony between my lineages. Most kirin fail in this task, and die in flashes of violence and insanity. My daughters and sons have it even worse, pulled towards their equine heritage, but with their draconian side growling forever in their hearts. I’ve had to… end their burden, so many times, lest their madness harm others.”

Fleur could do little more than stare at Maatsheptra’s confession. She could not imagine having a foal and witnessing its descent into insanity and violence.

“Oh,” Twilight said, the last thing anypony said until the dessert, a wonderful zbordka and wild berry sorbet that left Fleur’s head pleasantly spinning.

“It must have been a wonderful voyage. Equine ships are so large and fast, so filled with energy and company. Yet you are held a world apart from them, the common sailor, yes? Very little company,” Maatsheptra said gaily, her silver spoon falling into her empty dish.

She paused as the griffon server took the bowl away, bowing his head in reverence as all the previous servers had, but his eyes fixed on Twilight. Fleur shivered at his gaze. It was empty; devoid of joy or hope, a dead orb as lifeless as if a blade had been driven through his heart. Then the server was gone. Fleur shook her head, trying to banish the image and wondering if it was all in her imagination. Watching him return to the pit, Fleur admitted nothing seemed out of the ordinary now. His steps were as measured and timed as the dozen other servers moving around the feasthall, head held at just the right angle to show pride and deference in equal measure.

“I’ve been a little lonely, I guess. And there is no privacy at all. But otherwise, it’s been interesting,” Twilight said, giving a bright smile and drawing Fleur out of her ruminations. “The ship herself sings when she is sailing fast. I didn’t believe the stories at first—I mean, how can something that is just wood and rope sing? But it does! Sometimes when I’d wake up in that small cot, I’d swear that the Bellerophon was trying to talk to me. Maybe I should see if the glyphs have connected. She’s certainly old enough to have had time for the magic to develop an awareness.”

Twilight tapped her chin in a tap-pat-pat that Fleur had come to recognise meant the princess was devising a test or experiment of some sort.

“So, you have been lonely? Yes, I imagine it must be so.” Maatsheptra nodded, ringing one of a half-dozen bells used to signal the servers.

From the pit, the griffon from before began to return, a decanted bottle of chilled wine in his grasp. He flew slowly, a cloth draped over one forelimb, his gaze never wavering from Twilight.

“I have an idea, a present! You gave me such wonderful gifts today, I have to return the favour.”

“Um, okay, I guess.”

Maatsheptra clapped her hooves together, giving a delighted laugh. She glowed, her mane dancing in a fiery display as her joy spread throughout the hall and catching everyone's attention.

All except Fleur—her eye following the server. Her own mane prickled as he approached, moving around behind the table to pour wine. First he served Timely and Faust in silence, his sight fixed ahead as was proper. Next he refilled the empress’ glass, and then he was between Fleur and Twilight.

The prickling in her mane grew as he began to pour her wine. As he turned, Fleur caught a glint of metal beneath the server’s cloth. She glanced up and the dead look was gone from the griffon’s eyes, replaced by one of fury, rage and resignation.

Fleur wasn’t fully aware of what happened next.

The cloth fell away, revealing a wicked dagger. Gold glinted in the hilt while magic twisted around the blade in tight knots.

Fleur gave a cry of warning.

“For the Spire!” the griffon howled, driving the blade towards Twilight’s unprotected side.

The princess began to turn, a look of confusion in her amethyst eyes.

Hurling herself forward, Fleur caught the would-be assassin in a tackle around the midriff. Fleur was large for a mare, her added size serving her as she drove herself and the griffon to the ground. He howled and screeched, wings beating frantically, deadly claws unsheathed and pressed to Fleur’s exposed belly. In his dull, black eye there was only madness.

Fleur closed her own eyes, tensing herself even as she retained her grip. Pain flashed through her stomach and back. The dagger plunged into her withers, twisting and digging. Gritting her teeth to hold back the searing pain, Fleur brought her head forward in a crushing movement, her horn jabbing into something soft and pliant. Screeching now in agony as much as anger, the griffon released Fleur. His weapon lodged deep in her withers, he staggered back, talons clutching the ruin that was his right eye. The world spun—a cruel combination of fire and sparks as Fleur lay staring up at the griffon assassin.

He leapt back towards Fleur, his remaining eye drilling into her with a deadly intent so keen it pierced the veil of pain shrouding her. His claws mere inches from her throat, he was stopped; a magenta, gold and ruby aurora bound the griffon in tri-coloured tendrils.

The feasthall was filled with chaos, zebras screaming and yelling as the djinn and Twilight’s guard acted to restore order. Kéychlivék’s deep, rending roar quieted the furor, fire curling around his teeth as he surveyed the room.

“Halphamet, take that thing away,” Maatsheptra said with unmatched venom. “Discover any who aided him, find them and bring them justice.”

“As you command.” Halphamet bowed before indicating with a glance for his ifrit companion to grab the still-struggling griffon.

Grinning, the ifrit clamped its burning jaws down on the griffon’s wing. The griffon screeched, an ear-shattering cry as the sound of snapping bones filled the hall. Continuing to shriek, he was dragged away leaving a thin trail of blood.

Fleur was only vaguely aware of the noise and activity. She was cold—so cold—and yet sweat prickled across her skin making her clammy. The room pressed down on her. Her heart raced. Faces crowded around her, blocking out the sun gazing through the high windows. Fleur wished they’d go away—she needed the sun. It was so warm, and she was not.

“You are a brave fool,” chortled Athena through the hazy chill that was settling over Fleur, “and honourable. This is a good death.”

“Pourquoi habitude vous m'aider?” Fleur asked, blood splattering across her muzzle as she spoke.

“Give us space, damn you,” Timely growled at the crowd. To the Hackney ambassador he said, “Your shirt, madam, your shirt! Bugger the rat-faced mule who made it. I wouldn’t care if Celestia herself made it as a dowry present for Cadence. Pack it tight over the wound. No, the belly, that is most pressing.”

“Because what you did was unwise. That blade could harm Twilight no more than a flea could harm a mountain.” Behind the faces, Fleur could see Athena as a faded spectre, watching everything with a look of bemusement. “This will be an inconvenience, no more, for me. It is your end, however.”

“Quoi?”

“We are bound, you and I, and not even your death can reverse the process. When you die, my essence will overwhelm you. Nothing will remain of Fleur de Lis except a collection of memories within my essence. Regrettable, but ultimately of no consequence.” Athena expressed neither joy nor sorrow as she spoke, the words flowing as simple, cold facts.

“She’s in shock,” Timely growled. “I need to—”

“She’s beyond your aid, doctor,” Maatsheptra interrupted as she entered the ring of curious faces. “All you can do is help her pass in peace.”

“That is unnecessary,” Faust said, adding her presence to ring. “Doctor, your horn. I will show you the spell you need to save her.”

There was no hesitation in his voice, he simply turned his head and said, “Do it quickly, madam.”

Magic flashed as Faust brought her cracked horn to Timely’s own.

“It would appear our contest will not be resolved this day,” Athena sighed as Timely called on his new spell, turning it on Fleur. His magic tingled across her skin, returning warmth to her flesh and easing the racing of her heart. “You are fortunate to have such a guardian. Faust will not be able to interfere much longer. The hour of our final reckoning approaches, Fleur. This is only a temporary relief from oblivion.”

Fleur said nothing; she couldn’t, as the energy of Timely’s spell invaded her mind with calming tendrils that placed her in a relaxed sleep.

* * *

Twilight was led to her room in a daze, her mind lost among the stars. She’d detached her essence as she watched Fleur’s life bleed away, and was curled up in the embrace of Regulus and six other stars. Celestia and Luna were with her, soothing her frayed emotions, along with a pony Twilight didn’t recognise.

Nothing was said, words proving to be useless for once. Instead, Twilight was bathed in simple comfort, the energy given by her stars and cousins wrapped around her like blankets.

After an hour, perhaps two, Twilight calmed enough to speak and share what had happened in the feasthall.

“She saved me,” Twilight said, shivering despite her stars’ warmth. “He wanted to kill me, and she saved me.”

“Bah, you were in no danger,” grumbled the stranger, his voice booming across the heavens.

At last taking in his presence, Twilight turned to Celestia and asked, “Who is that?”

“Zeus. He followed me when I heard your distress.” Celestia’s essence gave a little twist of disgust as she cast a glare at the sparkling yellow cloud that was the God of Storms.

“Oh… Wait, what?” Twilight exclaimed, curling behind Luna and Celestia. “As in, almost killed Faust, Zeus?”

“Yes, exactly the same,” Luna deadpanned, a disapproving glimmer flowing through her.

“Get into one little fight and you never hear the end of it,” Zeus harrumphed.

“Little fight?” Twilight snapped, zipping out from behind Luna to press herself against Zeus. His touch was like chewing on a copper pellet, little sparks echoing at the point of contact. “You blew up a mountain! You—”

“Yes, yes, nearly killed Faust, so on and so forth.” Zeus gave the equivalent of rolling his hoof. “I’m aware of where your indignation stems.”

“Indig… Grah!” Twilight struck Zeus, lighting the sky above Ioka with a flash of magenta and yellow magic that made ponies stop and look skyward in confusion and worry. Huffing, Twilight growled, “At the very least you owe Faust an apology and to make reparations to Prance.”

“Gods do not apologize,” Zeus snapped, a bit of anger bubbling across his surface. “However, I may have been too hasty in my actions that night. Confronting Faust wasn’t required and didn’t serve a purpose beyond itching my curiosity.” He calmed, and then laughed, adding, “I like you. As fiery and brave as befits the stars.”

In an aside to Celestia, Luna whispered, “You were right to keep me in Ponyville. I would have kicked his flank to the edge of the disc and hurled him into the void.”

“You might have to get in line,” Celestia grumbled. “I am thinking I made a mistake yesterday.”

“Don’t you have any compassion or conception of what you did?” Twilight yelled, her own essence crackling and snapping, those few stars awake retreating from her side. “An entire village is gone, and a half-dozen others suffered from the fallout.” She shifted away from the silent god. “Why am I bothering? You don’t care. You’re a bully and… what’s that?”

Twilight turned to look north and the ever frozen arctic. There was a sound, like the cords of a neighponese yue qin being plucked, flowing almost lazily from beyond the disc’s edge. The chords resolved into a slow and sad song that resonated through the alicorns.

“What is that?” Zeus asked, floating slowly past Twilight, his form shivering with the music.

“Oh uh,” Celestia and Luna said together just before the chords strummed faster, becoming a bouncy, playful tune.

Twilight let out a shout as she was pulled across the sky, curving along the barrier that divided the heavens from the sky, dragged along by the dancing music. She tried to flow back to the disc and return to her body, but the song refused to release its grip. On either side of her, Luna and Celestia were both silent, while Zeus was growling, sparks shooting along his form as he fought the music’s pull. They reached the disc’s edge, and Twilight grimaced, yelping in dismay.

Then they were beyond the edge, still moving fast. Below her, Twilight saw great Ioka’s head. It was as large as a continent, her eyes two deep, endless black oceans. Twilight began to slow, the others close behind. They landed with a soft flump atop Ioka’s nose, four infinitesimal specks compared to the world-turtle.

Looking up, Twilight beheld the disc’s edge so many hundreds of leagues above. Awe and curiosity mixed in Twilight as she slowly looked down, tracing the edges of the elephants, those mighty mountains that cradled the disc. The Endless Falls streamed between the elephants’ tusks, ice like the dust of a comet’s tail trailing in their wake.

Twilight had always wondered what it would be like to see the disc from below, and now she had her answer. She couldn’t suppress the foalish giggle of delight that bounced from her as she took in the cracks that rippled across the underside of the disc, caused by Ioka’s growth over the eons.

Then Ioka spoke.

“So, you are my stars. I thought you’d be taller. And black. I always imagined my stars as having a coat dark as the void.”

To say Twilight was surprised would have been the greatest of understatements. No book written on the great world-turtle had ever said that she could talk. If they had done so, none would have suggested that her voice would be soft and sweet, like droplets of honey on a piece of fresh baked bread just out of the oven.

She wasn’t certain if she’d been insulted or not. The idea that the world-turtle herself was disappointed with her appearance created an odd, incredulous sensation in Twilight.

“You are also more beautiful in spirit. I anticipated petulance and arrogance. My stars can be very self-involved at times. That you spend so much of your time, and your heart, thinking of the lives of those under your gaze brings me immeasurable joy.”

The corners of Ioka’s beak turned up in a smile that could devour half of Equestria and left Twilight stunned into speechlessness.

Celestia was the first to reply, coughing as if to clear her non-existent throat to gain the world-turtle’s attention. “Ioka, it has been an age,” she said, bowing deep.

“Suilannad, Ioka,” said Luna, bowing as deep as her sister.

“My sun and moon, together again at last. As it should be,” Ioka’s eyes pulled up in a smile, true happiness in her words. “You have recovered, my dear moon, from your ill temper, I hope.”

“I have,” Luna grimaced as she replied. “The Elements restored me.”

“That is good,” Ioka blinked, the motion far quicker than Twilight would have suspected possible, taking only a couple seconds to complete. “Apologies, my stars. I had desired to wait a decade or so before we spoke. I wished to allow you time to acclimatize to your role and find your own place upon my disc. An opportunity presented itself, however, to speak with the interloper, and I had to seize it.”

Twilight shivered at the cold disdain that infected Ioka’s voice as the world-turtle gazed on the four alicorns.

“Speak, he who would steal my storms, and tell me what brings you to my disc, why you threaten and war with those who are a part of me?”

Zeus chortled, his essence expanding as he flitted ahead of the others.

“I am Zeus, King of the Alicorns, the lord on the mountaintop,” he said, his arrogance on full display.

“I remember you,” Ioka said after considering Zeus for some time. “I looked up as my egg cracked, and there you were with your kind, at war with Chaos.” Ioka snorted, mighty plumes of air bursting from her nostrils to float up towards the disc. “How many of my brothers and sisters did you kill in your foolish, pointless conflict? How many worlds burned and were crushed? A thousand? A million? How much blood stains your existence?”

Zeus waved a dismissive portion of his essence. “The containment of the Quus was a necessity. They would have done worse to you and—”

“I know exactly what they would do. I have one riding on my disc even now. The trickster, Discord. He sleeps within his prison. I sometimes feel his dreams, hear his laughter as he imagines mischief and trouble. I have felt the chaos he sows in his wake, leaving it like prints in the sand.”

“A Quus? Here? Impossible!” Zeus snarled, his form contracting and hissing with something Twilight didn’t expect; fear. “They are bound in their cage, guarded by… Of course… Anarchy…”

Zeus relaxed—just a little—and told the tale of Anarchy, once the warden of the Quus’ prison, driven to madness by his endless vigil. A great warrior before his fall, Anarchy had descended on Gaea, carving a swath of destruction as he sought a method of destroying the prison he was meant to protect. Many lesser alicorns fell before him, as well as one of the greatest of their kind; Helios, God of the Sun. Helios and Anarchy slew each other, but while Helios was destroyed utterly, his essence ripped asunder, Anarchy had become a shade and sought to regain his physical form through the ultimate taboo. He possessed a powerful warlord, Archemmon, attempting to take the mortal vessel as his own and convert it into a new body.

Anarchy almost succeeded.

Archemmon overthrew Anarchy, and in doing so gained all his power and took the mad-god’s domain as his own. Archemmon, tempered by his internal war, took up the vigil his predecessor had abandoned. The prison was re-inforced, the Quus that had begun to awaken returned to the eternal slumber, and the universe breathed in relief.

“An interesting tale,” Ioka said as Zeus finished. “It explains Discord’s arrival well. I wondered if it had something to do with the two of your kind I granted refuge. Had he followed their trail to me, I asked myself. Perhaps he did. But I do not regret rescuing Iridia and Faust from the void, even if that action is what brought Discord.”

Ioka fixed Zeus, and by extension all four alicorns, with a piercing stare, her gaze making Twilight shift uncomfortably.

“What are your intentions, O Zeus, King of the Alicorns? Why do you remain on my disc?”

“Two of my daughters are on your disc. I came to your disc searching for them.”

Ioka was again quiet, then she said, “I feel them, yes. Seven others as well. There was another, but it vanished the night a star fell. You intend to take them back to Gaea?”

“No, not anymore.” Zeus shook his essence, surprising Celestia, Luna, and Twilight. “Though I have been here only a little while, and seen far less, I can see that you are a far safer world than Gaea could possibly be for my daughters, or the others. The truth is I have been smitten by Celestia’s—your sun’s—beauty, and would seek her hoof in marriage.”

“What?” Twilight and Luna exclaimed together, breaking their long silence.

Celestia groaned.

“I will permit your attempt to court my sun under two conditions. Firstly, she is to remain upon my disc, or above it, depending on your point of view and how pedantic you desire to be. Secondly, I offer you the choice to remain upon my disc if you take the same bargain as I gave Iridia and Faust. You will spend time as a mortal, learning of their struggles and triumphs, for one and twenty years. Complete this, and you may remain if you so choose. Should you, during that time, revert to your true nature, I will know.”

“Twenty-one years you say? Why that number?” Zeus queried.

“Because, it is half of two and forty, of course.” Ioka grinned wider still, a low laugh echoing from her into the void.

Zeus was quiet for a short while, his essence flickering from anger to curiosity, before settling on a mixture of hope and amusement.

“Your terms are acceptable.” Zeus bowed to Ioka.

“Don’t I get a say in this?” Celestia huffed.

Ioka lifted a brow, stating, “Of course. You are the only arbiter of your heart, my sun, after all. He will have his chance—long as it may be—to win your affection. Now, you should return to my disc; it is nearing nightfall and you three are needed.”

“Wait, I thought we were going to talk?” Twilight jumped forward, eager to speak with Ioka alone.

“We will have our chance, in a decade or three. You are very young, my stars, so very young.” Ioka blinked, swinging her colossal head towards a distant, red sun hanging low within the void.

Wondering what Ioka was looking at, Twilight turned to see a bale of world-turtles swimming in lazy circles around the fiery orb.

“Are those…” Twilight began to breath the question, then stopped as the largest of the world-turtles turned her gaze towards Ioka. Twilight shook her head, or the closest equivalent she could accomplish as a sparkling cloud of pure energy, then drifted towards her waiting cousins.

“I guess we’ll talk later,” Twilight sighed, and then she and the others were flying back towards their very distant bodies.

* * *

Luna snapped back into her body with a start, tumbling off Fluttershy’s sofa and onto the floor in an undignified heap. Laying on her back, blinking up at the many birds watching her from their perches and nests, Luna tried to remember how she’d gotten to the small cottage. The last memory she had before leaping into the heavens to comfort Twilight had been walking down the shaded path out of Ponyville with Shyara trudging along at her side.

Rolling onto her hooves, Luna shook off the momentary confusion. Through a little, round window she could see the last traces of twilight in the sky. She and Celestia had performed their twice daily duty in a hurried rush as they rose and then fell back to the disc. Stretching her wings, Luna was struck by a stiffness she had not expected.

Spending time away from her body wasn’t easy, and couldn’t be maintained indefinitely. Luna’s essence desired to be in her body, as much as it yearned for the touch of Selene and the cool breeze of the night. Being away from her body so long always left Luna tired and distant when she returned. It would be only a short while, no more than an hour, for her to re-adjust. In the interim, Luna hovered between Selene and herself, as if she were in both places at the same time.

Moving through the cottage’s main room, Luna was struck by the smell of burning grass and sugar. Altering her course from the stairs to the door leading to the kitchen, she picked up her pace. She had to hold her breath as she stepped into the room or gag on the horrendous odor, her eyes stinging as a acrid, black cloud floated through the air.

There at the stove, an apron around her barrels and a cluster of spoon, forks, and a rolling pin, hovering around her, stood Shyara.

Angel was on the counter beside the filly, jumping up and down trying to grab his favourite spoon. On seeing Luna, he shot her a pleading glare, pointing between the spoon, Shyara, and the stove.

“I don’t think this is right,” Shyara muttered, poking a pot of sludge that was the source of the smoke. “How did Trixie make this look so easy? I have the fire, the sugar and the grass… What am I missing? Of course! Water!”

Not moving from her spot by the stove, silvery motes of aether dancing around her horn, Shyara reached for the tap. Luna remained silent, a light smirk touching her lips as Shyara gave the lever a strong push. The smirk vanished along with most of the faucet as it was shattered, sending up a brief spurt of water that struck the ceiling and splashed across the kitchen.

“Stupid magic!” Shyara cursed, looking around and spotting Luna. “Oh, I, um, was just—”

“Destroying Fluttershy’s kitchen, I see,” Luna said, her tone neither disappointed nor angry. “Here, allow me,” she added. Grabbing the pot, Luna levitated it outside and onto a flat stone where it could smoke and cool without being a danger. Lifting the pieces of the pump, Luna used a combination of spells to repair and reassemble the simple device. After testing it with a gentle pump, water happily gurgling into the sink, Luna motioned with a wing for Shyara to follow her back into the living room.

“Where are Fluttershy and Iridia?” Luna asked as she settled on the sofa, while Shyara clambered up into a chair.

“They’re out doing nature goddess stuff,” Shyara mumbled, “somewhere in the forest. Not far, I think, but they said I should wait here.”

Luna hummed, glancing towards the Everfree. The pair were not far away, no more than a hundred yards inside the forest. Iridia’s energy was a cool, steady stream, while Fluttershy fluctuated and pulsed with uncertain and confused pulses that tasted of saffron.

Fumbling her hooves together, Shyara said, “I’m sorry.”

Luna lifted a brow, more than a little surprised by the apology. Tyr’s apologies, while not exactly rare, were often only given when she believed herself in trouble enough to warrant drastic punishment. That had never included burning a pot and making a mess.

“It is alright,” Luna said, conjuring a steaming pot of tea and four cups. “Although, I am not sure what you are apologizing for, I admit,” Luna added, a twinkle of mischief in her eye. Silently, Luna berated herself for being as bad as her sister.

“For almost burning down the house?” Shyara asked cautiously.

“Oh, that.” Luna waved a dismissive hoof. “If the cottage had caught fire, it would have been easy enough to douse the flames.”

Looking Luna over as if she’d grown a second horn, or turned bubble-gum pink in colour, Shyara said, “You’re being incredibly understanding.”

“Am I?” Luna shook her head. She was being overly nice, Luna admitted, and lenient. “I suppose I am. I apologize, Shyara. I will punish you properly then. So, lecture about responsibility and safety, then bed, I suppose.” Luna said this more to herself, tapping her chin for dramatic effect.

At her side, Angel gave several sharp nods of agreement, a wicked grin on his face and pounding a fist into a paw.

Shyara looked relieved.

“This is assuming you know what you did wrong,” Luna pierced Shyara with a significant look.

“Um, I… Uh… I… Are you alright?”

“A little disconnected,” Luna admitted, flicking her tail and enjoying the feel of the ethereal strands striking the cushion. “I haven’t spent so long away from my body in… Eleven or twelve centuries. This will pass.”

“Separation Sickness?” Shyara stated more than asked. “Mom warned me about it,” she added when Luna gave her a querying look.

“It is nothing to be concerned about,” Luna shrugged, then gave a little giggle. “How did I get here, though?”

“I ran here and got the one who feels of Hera when you slumped down. What was that scream? I have never heard anything like it before.” Shyara leaned forward on her chair, eagerness as plain on her face as if she were proclaiming her love of gossip in song and dance.

For not the last time, Luna smirked at how the Goddess of Secrets wore her emotions and thoughts on her withers. Shyara would be a terrible poker player if she didn’t learn to mask her feelings.

“A griffon tried to assassinate Twilight,” Luna admitted, watching as Shyara’s expression morphed to shock then smug satisfaction.

“Shame he only tried,” Shyara grumbled, crossing her hooves before pouting. She would have said more if not for Luna’s hoof connecting sharply with the floor.

“Why would you wish harm on a pony you have never met and have no reason to hate?” Luna filled the room, clouds gathering overhead and a sharp crack of lightning flashing beyond a window, the walls growing black and foreboding.

Trembling, Shyara shrunk in on herself, trying to hide behind her short wings.

“She stole mama’s Stars!” Shyara cried as way of explanation.

Luna softened a little, the clouds parting behind her.

“I apologize for scaring you,” Luna said, giving Shyara a tender smile, thankful that the last of the Separation Sickness had passed. When Shyara had folded back her wings, Luna asked, “When did Twilight steal your world’s stars?”

Shyara opened her mouth to speak, stopped, and then snapped it shut with a contemplating, ‘huh’. “But, mama is the Stars… So…”

“Do you think Celestia stole the sun from Hemera? Or I the moon from Nyx?” Luna pressed as Shyara tried to organise her thoughts.

“No. But—”

“What about love? Cadence and Aphrodite both are love.” Luna pointed out, genuine curiosity making her smile.

“Well, Emotionals are—”

“Different, yes.” Luna bobbed her head. “Physicals are extensions of the world, or worlds if you prefer. Twilight couldn’t steal your mother’s stars.”

“Huh?” Shyara blinked a few times, and for a moment Luna thought the conversation won, until the filly laughed. “Of course she could! She had to… didn’t she? There can’t be two Goddesses of the Stars, can there?” Shyara pinched her brow together, falling into sullen silence as she attempted to sort through her thoughts.

Luna was about to say more when the door to the cottage was flung open, Iridia, Fluttershy, and McIntosh marching into the room. Mac was loaded down with a full set of saddle bags, a wide brimmed hat perched awkwardly atop his head. He looked like stallion about to march into battle, his face a little pale beneath his ruddy coat. Fluttershy shot him little glances of concern, while Iridia gave Shyara a cursory inspection before addressing Luna.

“Well, we’re off,” Iridia said, levitating her own and Fluttershy’s bags from where they’d been sitting beside the door. Settling her old travel cloak, Iridia asked, “Twilight is alright, I gather?”

“She was in shock, but never in any physical danger,” Luna confirmed, stepping towards the trio to wish them well. “Twilight’s doing much better now. Are you sure about not visiting her?”

Iridia simply shook her head.

“You claim Twilight is well, and that is enough for me. It is not me she looks to for comfort. My sudden presence would also undermine the entire exercise of her traveling by ship. I trust my daughter, and her friends,” Iridia said, glancing to Fluttershy.

Stopping by the door, Iridia watched as Fluttershy hugged Angel goodbye.

“Now, you be a good bunny for Princess Luna while I’m away… Yes, I know you want to come… Now, Angel, don’t be like that… Who will keep an ear out for Elizebeak while I’m away if you don’t stay? … Barry the Bear spends his time in the woods, Angel, he can’t watch the other animals… That’s the spirit.” Fluttershy gave an uncertain smile to the rabbit, ruffling the fur between his ears. Looking up, Fluttershy turned her attention to Shyara, “And you, no more lying and be a good filly for Luna. I don’t want to hear about you getting into any more fights when I get back.”

Sitting up arrow straight on the chair, Shyara gulped and nodded.

Her eyes shining, Fluttershy gave a last look around the cottage, before following Iridia and Mac outside. She completely missed Angel jumping up, and clambering into her saddlebags. Luna opened her mouth to warn Fluttershy about the stowaway rabbit, then thought about how pleasant the place would be without him, and stayed silent.

When Luna was certain they’d well and truly left for the train station—Mac insisted they travel by ‘normal’ means as much as possible—she turned to ask Shyara about her past, but was interrupted before she could begin as a hemmravn flew in through the window, setting off a series of chirps and peeps from the other birds.

“Mistress, mistress,” the hemmravn’s twin heads cried together, “we were so worried when your weren’t at the secret place.”

Settling on the back of Shyara’s chair, the hemmravn fixed Luna with a beady stare, one she returned until they blinked and looked away from her.

“What are you doing with the Moon?” he asked, feathers ruffling.

“Where have you been all day?” Shyara countered with a scowl. “I thought you were going to get a song for Sweetie.”

“He would have been trapped within the Halls of Secrets if he failed to find what you sent him to retrieve before Selene set,” Luna explained sipping her tea. Seeing Shyara about to ask the predictable question of ‘why’, Luna continued, much to the hemmravn’s discomfort. “The doors to the hemmravn’s domain are only open beneath the light of the moon. Which, I suppose, is your domain, now.”

“Oh,” Shyara muttered, laying her ears flat against her head. After appologizing to the hemmravn, Shyara asked, “You got the song, right?”

Puffing himself up with pride, the hemmravn said, “Of course. Old song. Very secret, hidden in the deep places within the Halls.” From between the feather’s on his breast, he extracted an old, yellow scroll.

“A secret song?” Luna asked, setting down her tea while reaching for the scroll.

The hemmravn gave an awkward squak while crying out, “Hey,” but was unable to prevent Luna from taking the scroll.

Unrolling it carefully, Luna glanced at the first lines. Her bemused grin vanished in a flash, eyes widening and heart pounding as the lyrics leapt off the page. The song was old, beautiful, and belonged to Celestia. Pressing her mouth into a tight line, Luna rolled the scroll up once more.

“You can not give this song to Sweetie,” Luna stated, her tone brooking no argument.

“What? Why? I’m Secrets, I can give it to her if I want,” Shyara protested, stamping a hoof.

“Because, this is a dangerous secret, Shyara,” Luna snapped, using her magic to ignite the scroll.

With a flick, Luna tossed the burning parchment into the hearth where it could do no damage. Blue and silver sparks crackled from the hearth, turning into a wisp of smoke that curled out the window to return home to the Halls of Secrets, where it would be safe. Luna didn’t breath until the scroll was completely gone.

“And, it is not yours to give away,” Luna added. “All the secrets of the world don’t belong to you.”

“Yes, they do,” Shyara snapped, leaning forward in her chair. She shrunk back a little when Luna lifted a brow, but still said, “I am the Goddess of Secrets. If they don’t belong to me, than who do they belong to?”

“The ponies that made them, and hold them.” Luna’s voice broke no argument, carrying a finality of certainty that was unassailable. “I know another song, one that is my secret, that you can share with Sweetie.”

The Appendixes

Ioka

Map by Voodoomaster

Map Key:

1: Canterlot

2: Ponyville

3: Cloudsdale

4: Crystal City

5: Manehatten

6: Baltimare

7: Vanhoover

8: Reinalla

9: Machu Llamchu

10: The Jade Hive

11: Zerubaba

12: Southstone Spire

13: Sur'Rahban

14: Lispone

15: Maredrid

16: Valley of the Eternal Foal

17: Maresailles

18: Coltchester Castle

19: Roam

20: Manez

21: Gallopolli

22: Staliongrad

23: Pegakorum

24: Neighjing

Appendix A: Dramatis Personae

Equestria:

Royal Herd

Twilight Sparkle: Princess of the Taiga, Goddess of the Stars, alicorn mare

Iridia: Queen of the Taiga, Goddess of Fertility and the Spring, alicorn mare

Faust: Queen of all ponies, Goddess of the Weave of Life, alicorn mare

Celestia: Princess of Equestria, Goddess of the Sun, alicorn mare

Luna: Princess of Equestria, Goddess of the Moon, alicorn mare

Cadence: Princess of the Crystal City, Goddess of Love, alicorn mare

Tyr: Foster daughter of Cadence and Shining Armour, alicorn filly

Shining Armour: Prince-Consort to Cadence, unicorn stallion

Elements of Harmony

Fluttershy Posey: Element of Kindness, pegasus mare

Pinkie Pie: Element of Laughter, earth pony mare

Rainbow Dash: Element of Loyalty, pegasus mare

Rarity Belle: Element of Generosity, unicorn mare

Applejack Apple: Element of Honesty, earth pony mare

Ponyville Residents

Zecora: Exiled Shaman living in the Everfree, zebra mare

Apple Bloom: Younger sister of Applejack, Zecora's apprentice, earth pony filly

Sweetie Belle: Younger sister of Rarity Belle, unicorn filly

Scootaloo: Friend of Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom, pegasus filly

Spike: Ward of the Crown, dragon male

Derpy Hooves: Head Mailmare, mother of Sparkler and Dinky, pegasus mare

Other residents of Equestria

Fleur de Lis: Prench ambassador to Equestria, unicorn mare

Fancy Pants: Member of Equestria's Gentry, husband of Fleur, unicorn stallion

Trixie Lulamoon: Travelling illusionist, unicorn mare

Shyara (Shy Spell): Ward of Trixie Lulamoon, alicorn filly

Iron Gust: Captain of the Day Guard, pegasus stallion

Chronicle: Seneschal to Celestia, unicorn stallion

Quick Quill: Seneschal to Luna, unicorn mare

Parallax: Noblepony, unicorn stallion

Mr. Ferveur: Prench ambassador to Equestria, unicorn stallion

Velvet Sparkle: Foster mother to Twilight Sparkle, unicorn mare

Comet Chaser: Foster father to Twilight Sparkle, unicorn stallion

Glitterdust: Foster herd-mother to Twilight Sparkle, unicorn mare

Whisper Runes: Foster herd-mother to Twilight Sparkle, unicorn mare

Bonnie (Bloodrose) Belle: Captain of the Sea Serpent, mother of Rarity and Sweetie

Twister Swirl: Foal living in Vanhoover, unicorn colt

Snow Drops: Foal playing in Vanhoover, unicorn filly

Ball-Peen: Mean foal in Vanhoover, earth pony filly

Riot: Foal cheating at a game in Vanhoover, pegasus colt

Temperance Dust: Judicator, unicorn stallion

Precedence: Arbiter, earth pony mare

Officers and Crew of the HMS Bellerophon:

Captain Hardy: Captain, unicorn stallion

Dr. Timely Crown: Physician, unicorn stallion

Fighting Spirit: First Lieutenant, unicorn mare

Poetic Verse: Second Lieutenant, unicorn mare

Rolling Holler: Third Lieutenant, unicorn stallion

Sheltered Bank: Midshipmare, unicorn mare

Ophelia Navigator: Midshipmare, unicorn mare

Polished Sextant: Ship's Master, earth pony stallion

Caulking: Carpenter, earth pony mare

Smokeless Powder: Gunner, earth pony mare

Polished Armour: Captain of the Marines, Cousin to Twilight Sparkle and Shining Armour, unicorn stallion

Belaying Pin: Bosun, earth pony mare

Dew Drops: Crewmare, earth pony mare

Old Kingdoms, Zebrica and Griffonia:

Jardin Rêves: Trotalonian peasant, foster mother of Soir Rêves, unicorn mare

Soir Rêves: Reincarnation of Namyra, alicorn filly

Pyras: King of Southstone Spire, griffon tom

Hydros: General of Southstone Spire, griffon molly

Pyrzan: High Magician of Southstone Spire, griffon tom

Talona: Daughter of Athena, adoptive princess of Southstone Spire, alicorn filly

Zubu: Exiled shaman, zebra male

Gilda: Apprentice of Zubu, griffon molly

Maatsheptra: Empress of Zebrica, kirin mare

Halphamet: Empress' Hoof, zebra stallion

Blinka: Cousin to Gilda, griffon molly

Xendil: Servant in the Golden Palace, griffon tom

Noblesse Oblige: Agent of Prance, unicorn mare

Sirius: Former star, pegasus mare

Vin Framboise: Abbot of the Canigó monestary above the Valley of the Eternal Foal, unicorn female

The Taiga

River Sparkle: The White Hind, leader of the Company of Six Vales, halla hind

Bounding Vixen: Master Bear from Cherry Vale, halla buck

Little Hoof: Master Raven from Apple Vale, halla buck

Split Tongue: Master Raven from Apple Vale, halla hind

Agate Ruse: Master Bear from Fir Vale, halla buck

Jade Eye: Master Bear from Fir Vale, halla hind

Thundering Mountain: Master Bear from Sycamore Vale, halla buck

Whispering Brook: Master Bear from Sycamore Vale, halla hind

Broken Blade: Master Bear from Poplar Vale, halla hind

Evergreen Rot: Master Bear from Poplar Vale, halla hind

Black Briar: Master Bear from Elm Vale, halla buck

Fallen Nest: Master Bear from Elm Vale, halla hind

Gaea:

Alicorns of the Light

Hemera: Goddess of the Day, mother of Demea, Clouthea and Authea, alicorn mare

Nyx: Goddess of the Night, mother of Astraea, Serene and Artemis, alicorn mare

Aphrodite: Goddess of Love, mother of Athena and Tyr, alicorn mare

Demea: Goddess of the Earth, alicorn mare

Clouthea: Goddess of the Winds, alicorn mare

Authea: Goddess of Hope, alicorn mare

Astraea: Goddess of the Stars and Wishes, mother of Shyara, alicorn mare

Serene: Goddess of Beauty, mother of the Muses, alicorn mare

Artemis: Goddess of the Wilds, alicorn mare

Athena: Goddess of Wisdom, mother of Talona, alicorn mare

Mneme: Eldest of the Muses, alicorn filly

Aoide: Second of the Muses, alicorn filly

Melete: Youngest of the Muses, alicorn filly

Zeus' Herd

Zeus: King of the Alicorns, God of Storms, alicorn stallion

Hera: Queen of the Alicorns, Goddess of Marriage and Empires, alicorn mare

Ares: God of Slaughter, alicorn stallion

Chranus: God of Destruction, alicorn stallion

Nessus: God of Lies and Trickery, alicorn stallion

Hades' Herd

Hades: God of the Dead, Lord of the Underworld, alicorn stallion

Hecate: Goddess of Disease and Medicine, alicorn mare

Niomedes: Goddess of the Hunt, alicorn mare

Achlys: God of Death, alicorn stallion

Poseidon's Herd

Poseidon: God of the Sea, alicorn stallion

Persus: God of Retribution, alicorn stallion

Lethe: River of Oblivion, alicorn mare

Heroes, Heroines, and 'other'

Lemurius: Pirate captain and scoundrel, unicorn stallion

Trixelion: Heroine of Astraea, unicorn mare

Lepidus: Hero of Artemis, halla buck

The Physical Manifestations

Selene: The Moon of Ioka

Sol: The Sun of Ioka

Polaris: The Lodestar, helps Twilight wake and put the stars to sleep each dusk and dawn.

Sirius: The Firestar

Regulus: The Queenmaker

Rukbat: The Writer's Star

Brachium: The Poet's Star

Ankaa: Leader of the stars that defend Twilight

Phad: The Soldierstar, one of the stars that defends Twilight

Antares: One of the stars that defends Twilight

Pollux: Star caught gossiping by Luna

Ras Thaoum: Star that gossips with Pollux and Propus

Propus: Gossiping star

Arrakis: The Dancing Star, convinces Twilight to allow the stars to dance.

Appendix B: Glossary of Naval Terms

Illustration source: Serres, Liber Nauticus

The sails of a square-rigged ship, hung out to dry in a calm.

1:Flying jib

2: Jib

3: Fore topmast staysail

4: Fore staysail

5: Foresail, or course

6: Fore topsail

7: Fore togallant

8: Mainstaysail

9: Main topmast staysail

10: Middle staysail

11: Main topgallant staysail

12 Mainsail, or course

13: Maintopsail

14: Main topgallant

15: Mizzen staysail

16: Mizzen topmast staysail

17: Mizzen topgallant staysail

18: Mizzen sail

19: Spanker

20: Mizzen topsail

21: Mizzen topgallant

Chapter One: The Last Normal Day (R)

Myths and Birthrights

By Tundara

Part One: Awakening and Arrivals

Chapter One: The Last Normal Day

Traditionally, mornings at the Books and Branches Library started late. In fact, mornings started so late they barely had time to get out of bed and stretch before they were turning into afternoon. This was due in no small part to the Librarian —a student of magic from Canterlot, Heroine of Equestria, Countess of the Everfree, and confirmed night-owl— Twilight Sparkle.

It wasn't that she slept more than other ponies. As Twilight boasted, she needed less sleep than the average pony, a mere six point six, six, nine hours being sufficient.

Neither was she an insomniac. Once her head hit the pillow, Twilight usually fell asleep within minutes, drifting off into dreams even if there was a pressing problem buzzing about in her thoughts. This ability had been honed, thanks to careful lessons from Celestia. It served Twilight well, and she found most problems had a tendency to be sorted by her subconscious mind while she slept. Twilight’s dreams used to concern her somewhat, Ironically, the only time the technique failed was when Twilight was worried about disappointing or failing Celestia.

Rather, the trouble was that she stayed up until the early hours of the morning. Twilight was an avid stargazer and candlelight reader. She found the flickering lights heightened the experience, creating a soft, mystical blanket that made her feel like her hero, Star Swirl the Bearded.

By some weird quirk, all her best ideas had a habit of coalescing around midnight. Most often they would occur as she gazed out her window up at the velvet tapestry of the night. There would be a little flash of inspiration followed by a giddy little rush as she’d write them down. The stars always seemed just a touch brighter when she had these moments of brilliance.

Therefore, Twilight was shocked when she felt a small claw on her back, right above her kidneys, at around seven in the morning. Groaning, Twilight rolled over, pillow sliding from her face onto the floor allowing the beams of sunlight that filtered through the crack in the curtains to assault her tender eyes.

"Spiiiiike, what is it?"

"Letter from the Princess," answered her assistant, the dragon chuckling as Twilight's red-rimmed eyes burst open and fixated on the scroll held in his claws.

"What! When did it arrive? Is she mad at me?"

Twilight scrambled out of her bed as her voice grew more stressed, and her mane took on a frizzy appearance, one not helped by her terrible bed-mane. Spike had taken to waking up before Twilight in the last several months, a stark reversal of their old sleeping habits. It did let the young drake have an hour, or rather the entire morning, to himself before Twilight would eventually drag herself out of bed.

With a tight smile and little flourish, he presented the rolled scroll to his surrogate sister. Her eyebrow arched a little when she noticed that it wasn't the red and gold seal of Celestia nor the midnight blue of Luna, letting out a relieved sigh as she recognized the soft pink of Cadence that was wrapped around the parchment.

The moment Twilight read past the opening pleasantries a hair sprung loose from her mane.

"Twilight, what's going on?" Spike couldn't keep the concern out of his voice.

"It's my brother, Cadence, and parents. They are all coming down tomorrow to visit me for this year’s Celebration of Life," Twilight said, a disbelieving note in her voice.

Spike shook his head and looked up at Twilight puzzled. "Okay. Pinkie was planning a party for you anyways since it's your twenty-first birthday and everything. This doesn't change anything, just a few more names on the guest list." For emphasis Spike pulled out a list of names.

"Well, yes, except I was expecting only a dozen guests. I don't have enough punch or hors d'oeuvres for more ponies. And I already re-decorated the guest bedroom for Princess Luna. We don't have room for my brother, his wife, our parents, and Princess Luna." Twilight began pacing around her bedroom, eyes darting in a manner that Spike knew meant she was quickly doing some arithmetic and juggling potential solutions. "Plus, there's this line here from my parents saying they have something very important to tell me now that I am legally a full adult. What's that mean? What can they tell me tomorrow that they can't tell me now, or last week, or last year!"

Twilight was brought out of her spiraling train of thought by Spike snapping her name. With a little twitch in the corner of her eye, she looked down at the small dragon.

"Twilight, you're having a panic attack," Spike stated, slowly walking up to her and laying a claw on her withers.

Quickly, Twilight did a catalogue of her symptoms. Elevated fluttering heart rate, check; crawling sensation in the skin, check; negative thoughts, check; desire to run and escape, check; nausea, check; oh, and there's the feeling of unreality, so check again!

Left ear flicking and eye twitching faster, Twilight mentally reached for her most important checklist.

She had spent weeks memorizing the checklist, just in case. She couldn't trust to always have a physical copy nearby —Twilight had tried that, it didn't work.

Sitting quickly, she took a long deep breath in through her nose, and let it out from her mouth. Repeating this several times, Twilight began saying a short mantra.

"I am calm, I am collected, I can handle this. I am calm, I am collected, I can handle this. This isn't an emergency, I have time to think this through. This isn't an emergency, I have time to think this through."

After several minutes of breathing exercises and repeating mantras, Twilight opened her eyes and smiled down on Spike.

"Thank you, whatever would I do without my number one assistant?" She playfully ruffled Spikes soft spines, eliciting a gag and huff from the dragon.

"You'd probably be running around trying to re-organise the library, maybe hide in a corner chewing on your tail, or-"

"Yes, Spike I get it, I can go crazy sometimes," Twilight dead-panned as she headed towards the kitchen. "Come on, we'll need to go to the market and get more food, then head to Sugarcube Corner to inform Pinkie that there will be more ponies at the party. As the party planner, it's only polite to inform her. Knowing Pinkie, she'll probably want to throw a little pre-party tonight to welcome my family. But first, let's have breakfast."

At the mention of breakfast, the little dragon scampered after her with a happy smile on his lips.

* * *

The Friendship Express rolled to a slow stop, a shrill whistle announcing its arrival at the Ponyville Train Station. Families lined up outside the train, tearful good-byes and joyful welcomings were exchanged between friends and loved ones all along the platform.

Sighing to herself, Fleur de Lis stood and adjusted the single set of saddlebags she had brought. Normally she would have travelled with half a dozen suitcases. Normally she'd also travel in the First Class car along with the other nobles, wealthy business tycoons, and celebrities. But this trip was not normal, not in any sense of the word.

Pausing as she looked left and right, Fleur saw a couple ponies she recognised; a pair of mares from the famed group, The Elements of Harmony. Heroines all, they had done more than she could hope to do in two lifetimes.

The first was Twilight Sparkle, the leader of the group, personal protégé of Princess Celestia, Countess of the Everfree, and one of the most humble and under-appreciated mares alive. The Canterlot Elite took great pains to snub and look down on Twilight Sparkle and her friends. Fleur had never understood the Canterlot Elite's penchant for trying to squash those they felt as undesirables. Not that it mattered.

Rumour among the palace was that Twilight Sparkle was being groomed for the position of Arch-Mage, and combined with her other titles, the position of her House, and her own natural skill, Twilight was going to be a mare with considerable power and clout in a short while.

Then the Canterlot Elite would be scurrying and begging for Twilight's favour. Fleur had seen it happen before.

The other mare present was a pink earth pony, bouncing up and down on the spot like a ball. A cake, complete with lit candles, was perched atop her head and the widest grin was plastered on her face. 'Pinkie Pie', Fleur said to herself recalling the mare's name. Element of Laughter and now a Lady of the Court. Hardly a care in the world, Pinkie Pie was singing a jaunty, bouncy tune as the pair stood on the platform.

Fleur didn't wait around to see whom they were waiting to greet. Spying was beneath her and not something she ever indulged in. At least socially. There were some spies she knew on a professional level. Then again, what ambassador to a foreign country didn't know at least a few spies?

Leaving the train station, Fleur pulled out a small map of the town, and quickly located her destination. Setting off at a brisk trot, Fleur tried to not think about the events that had brought her to Ponyville, instead focusing on the future. The future involving a brightly-painted circular building near the town's center and market district.

Humming a song popularised during the wedding of Princess Cadence and Sir Shining Armour the previous spring, Fleur felt her spirits lift for the first time that day.

Yes, the future was going to be brighter, Fleur promised herself. After all, how could it be any worse than the recent past?

As the song was reaching its inevitable finale, Fleur's destination came into sight, Carousel Boutique. Slowing to a walk, doubt settled in around Fleur's thoughts.

She'd been so certain when she’d left Canterlot that morning that what she was doing was the right thing. Of all the mares in Equestria, Rarity Belle was the only one Fleur would call a true friend. Canterlot high society was not conducive to the making, or keeping, of friends. Not for Fleur anyways, who, as the ambassador from distant Prance, was often seen with scorn and as a necessary evil. Relations between Equestria and Prance had been chilly for generations. Fleur had done more than any of her predecessors to close the gulf between the two nations, but was still ostracised by Equestria’s elite and nobility. Today, Fleur needed a friend more than anything.

Steeling her resolve, Fleur went up to the door, pushed it open and went inside to the jingle of a bell.

"Come in, and welcome to Carousel Boutique, where everything is chic, unique, and magnifique!" said a welcoming sing-song voice Fleur knew very well.

Rounding a corner from —presumably— her work area came the store's owner. She looked rougher than the last time Fleur had seen her. A few hairs of the white unicorn's purple mane were out of place and barely detectable bags under her eyes. Seeing Fleur, she gave a small gasp, removed the red glasses perched atop her nose, and gave a wide genuine smile.

"Fleur, darling, whatever are you doing down in little old Ponyville? Do come in, please," Rarity added, beckoning for Fleur to follow her into the back, one Fleur quickly discovered was a sizable kitchen and dining area. "Can I get you anything? Tea? Biscuits? Anything at all?"

"Oui, mon amie, some tea would be delightful," Fleur replied with a tired smile as she set her saddlebags by the door before taking a seat at the table.

"I wasn't expecting to see you until the Winter Fashion Show in Canterlot, darling," Rarity said, making small chat as she set a kettle on the stove and retrieved a tin of biscuits from a cupboard. "Tell me, how are you doing, and how is Fancy Pants?"

Fleur winced at the mention of her husband and looked down at the red and white checkered tablecloth. Something so plain and homely would never have existed in a Canterlot noble's home. There was almost certainly a story behind the tablecloth for it to be in Rarity's home. The fashionista prided herself too much on her sense of decor for it to be otherwise. Knowing she couldn't stay quiet and ruminate on the checkered pattern, Fleur slowly looked up and said the words she been dreading —and wanting— to say all day.

"Fancy Pants and I had a fight. It... wasn't pleasant."

"Oh," was all Rarity said, her demeanor morphing from an excited friend about to share gossip, to one about to console and provide support. A few minutes passed in silence as the tea was prepared. Finally, as the tea was being poured, Rarity said, "If you are here, then it must have been very terrible, if you don't mind my saying, darling."

"Non, I don't, because it is true," Fleur muttered. Taking the steaming cup in her shaky magical grasp she took a quick sip before adding, "It is all my fault as well."

Pausing to sip her own tea, Rarity waited with a patience that would have made Celestia herself proud. As their tea slowly dwindled, Rarity finally asked, "Do you wish to talk about it? I understand if you don't, darling."

"Oui, talking is good, I think," Fleur sighed, closing her eyes. For a few more minutes Fleur tried to say what was on her mind, but each time the words caught in her throat. After the fourth attempt, she decided to try another avenue of conversation and hope she'd gather her courage in the interim.

"Why haven't you sought to court Fancy Pants?"

Fleur winced as the question rolled off her lips. Rarity's crystal blue eyes widened for an almost imperceptible moment, before settling into a soft far away gaze. It was a touchy subject between the two friends.

Over the two years they had known each other, Fleur had come to enjoy Rarity's company, and respect her for putting friendship before appearances. Fleur had dropped hints and suggestions that if Rarity wanted to court Fancy Pants and join the budding herd, she'd not be opposed. As the first mare it was her right and prerogative to allow other mares into the herd, and Fleur could think of none other she'd be willing to accept.

For her part, Rarity had always changed or avoided the subject.

"I suppose it is because I always wanted a charming and dashing prince of my own to whisk me off my hooves. Don't get me wrong, dear, Fancy Pants is everything a mare could ask for and more. But I want a strong, gallant, and tender warrior-prince like out of the books of my own. "

Tilting her head a little, Fleur gave Rarity a perplexed stare.

It sounded a bit like Rarity was suggesting she was a monogamist. Fleur didn't rule it out, though among the female dominated population of ponies it was exceedingly rare. For every colt almost three fillies were born. As if sensing where Fleur's thoughts were headed, Rarity grew flustered.

"It's not that... What I meant was rather... Oh, bother." Taking a few breaths, Rarity collected her thoughts before she again spoke. "I know it is impossible and nothing more than a fairy tale. It's a foalish dream, perhaps. One Prince Blueblood did a thorough job treading into the mud. But I wanted to have something like what you and Fancy Pants share. It's selfish, I suppose, and something that perhaps the Element of Generosity shouldn't entertain, but there it is. Besides, the last few years I've focused on my work and my friends. I'm no longer in any rush to find a stallion."

Fleur nodded slowly, everything Rarity said made sense with what Fleur knew about her. The way Rarity cringed when she called herself foalish spoke volumes more than the words themselves. Behind Rarity's eyes there was a twinge of loneliness, but also resilience. The white unicorn dress-maker was speaking only half the truth, Fleur could tell.

While Fleur regretted her foolish question, she couldn't stop herself from digging a little deeper.

"What about foals?"

"What about them, darling?"

"Have you ever thought about them? What they would look like. How they'd run around your hooves or get into all sorts of mischief?"

Fleur's mind and voice both trailed off so that she missed the first portion of Rarity's reply. She became lost in a sea of swirling thoughts and memories, ranging from her courtship of Fancy Pants to the events and argument of that morning.

"Yes, I've thought about it. What mare doesn't?" Rarity said with an almost whimsical half-smile as her own thoughts pattered down old fantasies. Both mares returned to the present as Rarity said, "But that is all far down the road for me, darling. Maybe in a few years when I'm more established, and have found the proper stallion, whomever he may be, I'll have a foal, or three. But now? I put that off to the indefinable future."

Dreams, and the memories of dreams, continued to swirl about Fleur as she sipped at her tea.

"I used to dream of what mine and Fancy Pants' foals would look like. Would they have had his eyes or mine? Would they have been kind and gentle like him, or irrepressible scamps as I once was? I could close my eyes and smell the incense of the Temple of Names and feel the heat of the million candles on my face. I tried to imagine what the priestesses' draughts would taste like and my foals' names would be. They were good dreams."

"'Used to'?"

"Oui."

Silence again reigned in the boutique as Fleur stared into the remnants of her tea. After a few minutes tears began to slowly slide their way down her muzzle. Fleur didn't try to stop them unlike during the train ride. She let them fall gently from her face to tap on the out of place tablecloth. A hoof reached across the table and clasped her own, giving it a gentle reassuring touch.

"What happened?"

"It is what can never happen, mon amie," Fleur said, at last rubbing the tears from her eyes. "Fancy and I, we've been trying for a foal the last few years, with no success. With the Season almost upon us again I thought to see a doctor. I've heard of mares who needed some help or push to conceive, and thought it'd be simple enough. Maybe a potion or some terrible tasting herb I'd have to chew. I— I didn't expect the doctor's answer."

Fleur grew quiet again as emotions rose in her chest, pressing her throat and mouth closed. With all the patience and grace one would expect from the royalty, Rarity waited, her hoof never leaving Fleur's own.

The words seemed pointless. From the glimmer of tears gathering in Rarity's eyes, Fleur knew that her friend at least suspected what was about to be said. But she also knew that if she didn't say them, she'd hate herself all the more.

"I can't have foals. Ever."

"Oh, Fleur," Rarity whispered, sliding from her chair so she could embrace her friend in a tight hug. For what felt like hours, she held Fleur as the tall mare sobbed into her shoulder. Every so often Rarity would murmur gentle re-assurances as she stroked Fleur's long cotton pink mane. Eventually, and with a hint of dread, Rarity asked, "What did Fancy say?"

"He said that he still loves me. Even when I can't give him foals, he said he still loves me. Oh doux, Celestia, what have I done? The things I said! I am a terrible pony, just leaving him like that. I was so hurt, and frightened, and angry."

Slowly Fleur shook her head as she shrugged out of Rarity’s hug.

"It pains me to ask, but, I could use a place to stay, if you have room, Rarity."

"What? Of course! I wouldn't dream of having you stay elsewhere," Rarity said instantly. Getting up, Rarity made her way to a small door that led down into a cellar. Disappearing for a few minutes, Rarity emerged carrying a bottle of wine in her magic. A smile actually managed to find its way onto Fleur's face when Rarity said, "Tea is all well and good, but for news this awful the only answer is a bottle of Grenache; something to wash away the bitterness, wouldn't you agree, darling?"

* * *

Night came to Equestria, a cold wind sweeping through Canterlot, racing down from the peak of the mountain on which the ancient city perched like a great crescent wing. Wind danced along the narrow cobblestone streets surrounding the palace of the Sun and Moon, slipping through open windows to nip at ponies nestled snuggly in their beds.

Unicorns woke, eyes blearily blinking from dull aches reaching down through their horns into the base of their skulls. Shuddering against the sudden chill, most curled deeper beneath covers, some staggering to their hooves to snap windows closed. Meanwhile, Pegasus wings twitched and spread, their owners smiling in their dreams feeling surges of bliss and unaffected by a little nip in the air.

In her chambers in the palace, Princess Celestia raised her head from the lush gold and scarlet sheets of her bed. High above, Luna's moon swam through a sea of twinkling stars. Frowning, Celestia slowly got out of bed and went onto her balcony. Lifting her nose she carefully tested the wind. The scent of licorice and rainbows filled the air, almost stinging her senses with their combined strength.

"Tia, You feel it as well?" came Luna’s strong, sinuous voice.

"Of course. I suspect half the unicorns can as well," Celestia said as her sister joined her on the balcony. When Luna was beside her, and never taking her eyes from the night sky, Celestia said, "I felt this magic once before, so very long ago. Is it what I believe it is?"

Arching an eyebrow at her sister's comment, Luna cleared her throat before nodding.

"It is indeed, but when have you felt this magic before?"

Giving her sister a sly smile, one Luna had come to associate with secrets, Celestia slowly shook her head. Knowing better than to attempt to pry the information from her sister —that would just result in bad feelings and no answers— Luna continued.

"A magic old as time and the stars themselves, but it is not mine," Luna said.

Tapping a hoof to her chin, Luna asked what had to be on both their minds. "You don't think she is doing this, do you? It wouldn't be the first time she accidently—"

"No, this is definitely not being caused by her. Not this time at least," Celestia added with a wink to her younger sister.

The wind faded away, sinking deeper into the ancient city and then into the valley beyond, and with it went the magic Celestia and Luna had felt. The sisters looked at each other, concern clear on their faces. From high above a deep rumble —like thunder and drums— echoed, followed by three stars tumbling from the sky. Luna opened her mouth in shock as a trio of bright lines traced across the velvet canvas of the night: pink, blue, and silver. The falling stars dipped down towards the horizon in the west, south-east, and north-east, respectively. The night briefly banished in a golden flash before settling again, wrapping the sky in an inky embrace, as the westerly-headed star landed.

With the golden flash of light came a second wave of magic, though unlike the one that had been carried by the wind. Celestia's and Luna's eyes both flew wide, instantly recognising this second wave of magic.

"It can't be," Luna whispered, raising a hoof to her lips shocked by the sound of fear in her own voice. Wings spread, Luna looked over to her sister, "Tia, are those three 'stars' what I fear?"

Celestia's answer was silence as her ancient mind began quickly turning over the sudden information.

"The closest landed somewhere near Ponyville," Celestia said, craning her neck to look towards where the stars had landed, ignoring Luna's question. It was a foalish one. Both knew exactly what those stars were. "We will need to begin preparations. I just hope they are friendly."

"That feeling we just had on the wind, it may be related," Luna said stepping back inside Celestia's chambers, following in her older sister’s hoofsteps.

"I would be amazed if it wasn't," Celestia agreed reaching for a quill and her parchment.

Looking over her shoulder to the night sky, Luna shuddered, worry twisting at her insides, wondering what other portents the night held.

"What about Twilight and her birthday tomorrow? Should we change our plans?"

Quill dipped into the inkwell, Celestia considered the question for a long moment. It was an age longer than she needed, Luna knew, which meant her older sister was being extra careful. No doubt she was beginning to move the pieces about in her head, ideas starting to fold into plans.

"No," she finally said, much to Luna's relief. "She is going to be confused, scared, and hurt enough as it is. We can't add this to her worries. For now we'll continue as we planned. Just keep your eyes and ears open while you're in Ponyville, sister. One of them landed near the town and I wouldn't be surprised if they make an appearance. The timing can't be a coincidence."

"Unless it is," Luna smile mischievously. "But I'll keep my eyes open. Should I bring the Elements with me, just in case?"

Tapping her chin, Celestia shook her head. "I don't think we're at that point yet. But, be careful."

Still smiling, Luna made her way towards the door. As Luna slipped out of the room, the elder alicorn was left with only the frantic scratching of her quill as she prepared to move the ponies needed to respond to the potential threats.

* * *

Eyes opening wide, Fleur shot up and out of her bed, covers twisted around her legs. Crashing on her back, Fleur laid on the floor, panting and gasping. On her lips she could feel a cool, tingling after-sensation left by... something. Fleur pinched her eyebrows together as she fought to remember what had awoken her. There had been a dream, no, it was more like a nightmare, but it fled her memories like water through a wire mesh.

There had been... something terrible. A fight, perhaps? Fleur's throat felt a little raw, like she had been screaming in her sleep.

"Fleur, are you alright, darling?" came the groggy voice of Rarity through the door.

Fleur slowly extracted herself from her sheets, unsure of exactly what had happened.

"Oui, everything is alright, I just had a bad dream. Go back to sleep," Fleur replied.

"You certain?"

Opening the door Fleur nodded, adding a reassuring smile for good measure. She was very good at giving reassuring smiles. Fleur felt confident in the quality of smile she was giving, despite the quivering of her heart and hooves. A shaking that grew every second Fleur stood looking at the other mare.

Rarity stood in the small second-floor landing between her room and the guest room, sleeping mask perched above her horn. A wave of confusion rolled over the tall unicorn as she looked her friend over. There was something different about Rarity. It was like an image in the corner of her eye, but when she turned to get a better look it would vanish. And a name danced on the tip of her tongue, yet refused to be spoken. It was almost enough to crack the practiced smile she wore.

Head tilted to one side, Rarity was giving Fleur an odd look, like she was trying to figure out a difficult math equation. After a moment, Rarity nodded once.

Turning back to her room, she slowly said, "Well, if there's any help I can give..." Rarity gave Fleur a shaky smile of her own before closing the door to her room.

Not wanting to go back to sleep herself, Fleur quietly left the bedroom and headed downstairs to the kitchen. Maybe some tea would stop the shaking in her hooves, she thought.

Her heart was still hammering in her chest from the dream. The sun was starting to peek above the horizon and, hopefully, it'd be a while before Rarity woke back up. Being as quiet as she could, Fleur entered the kitchen, her mind still turning over the confusion on the landing.

Was it just the lingering effects of the dream? Whatever it had been, it had certainly upended Fleur's normally ordered and practical thoughts. She had heard of other ponies whose dreams could cause such unease, but had never experienced it herself. Normally she was a heavy sleeper, like most unicorns. It came from how they naturally replenished their pools of mana while sleeping.

Reaching into the cupboard for a teapot, Fleur was startled from her reverie by the sound of china shattering. Looking up, she saw that she had crushed the teapot in her telekinesis. Cursing at herself, Fleur set the shards down in a waste-bin. It had been years since she'd been careless enough to damage anything with her magic. Again she reached for a teapot, and again it was shattered.

Now Fleur knew something was wrong.

Though she had never been noticed for her proficiency with magic, she was hardly incapable either. She could comfortably call her skill above average, good enough that control was not something she often had to think about. She certainly didn’t have the power of the great unicorns; Starswirl the Bearded, Marelin the Great, Clover the Clever, or Twilight Sparkle.

As she thought of Twilight Sparkle, a warm fuzzy feeling began to bloom in Fleur just behind her breastbone. Bringing the image of the countess to the forefront of her thoughts made the warmth grow until a goofy smile found its way onto her lips. After several seconds sitting in Rarity's kitchen with the goofy grin, Fleur shook it off, her confusion growing.

She barely knew the countess. They had only met once, very briefly, at a small state dinner years ago when Twilight had only been the princess' student. The bookish young mare, still in her mid-teens, had fumbled her words when she tried to talk to any of the nobles and had left as soon as Celestia so much as hinted that it'd be alright for her to return to her studies.

Wondering what was causing the feeling, Fleur growled to herself as she reached for a third teapot, this time with her hooves.

Thank Celestia that Rarity had nearly half a dozen tea-pots, Fleur thought wryly.

Placing the pot of tea on the stove, and getting a scone with a dollop of jam, Fleur took a moment to try to sort out the mesh of thoughts and feelings buzzing about her skull.

She wished she could remember the dream. It had to be the cause of all the confusing thoughts and images. But it was gone, same as the teapots in the waste bin. There was something else to the dream as well, Fleur realised. She was beginning to pace back and forth in front of the stove. Pacing was something she very rarely did, and only when there was something very pressing.

The last time she had paced was the previous morning in the doctor's office.

Immediately Fleur stopped, and her hoof smacked into her forehead, gently.

She was over-analyzing things. The dream had been caused by the wine mixed with her own tumultuous emotions. Satisfied with her conclusions, Fleur quickly drank her tea and then returned to bed. When she got up she was going to have to figure out what to say to Fancy Pants when she returned home. Wondering how a pony as terrible as her had ever married a pony as nice as Fancy Pants, Fleur crawled back into bed and quickly fell back to sleep.

Almost as soon as her breathing settled, she began to toss and turn, moaning a single word.

Ares.

* * *

Far to the north-east, across the river from the sprawling metropolis and towers of Manehattan, a lone figure pulled her wagon away from the glittering city. Bags of bits jangled happily within the wagon she pulled, creating a wide smile on her face.

It had been a good few months in the City that Never Sleeps, putting on show after sold-out show, but Trixie had begun to grow bored. It was time for a change of scenery. Maybe the glittering lights of Los Pegasus would allow her to bedazzle new crowds with her magnificence. Or perhaps the wide theaters and stages of Vanhoover would give her the exposure she craved. Though it'd be hard to top all the play-houses and the ravenous hunger Manehattanite ponies had for real entertainment.

She could scarcely believe that it had been only a couple years since she'd hit rock bottom. A laughing-stock through most of Equestria. No home, no wagon, no bits, no hope. That had been the toughest fall and winter of her life. Many times she'd considered returning to her family in Baltimare on the long and cold nights. But she'd done it, Trixie had fought her way back to the top and was shining higher and brighter than ever.

The Great and Powerful Trixie indeed!

The blue unicorn was so lost in her happy thoughts and plans, ideas for new shows swimming through her mind as she breathed in the wonderful floral scents of spring, that she failed to notice the deep rumble echoing through the night; and it wasn't coming from the wheels of her wagon.

Stones around her hooves began to bounce and skip, making Trixie stop and stare at the jittering road. With her brow pinched, she cast a wary look around. The moon was high over head, as were a few scattered clouds the pegasi had left to drift over the rural lands around the great city. Acting like imperfect mirrors, the clouds added to the moon's glow, making the night seem less close and threatening.

It wasn't a stampede of buffalo, which Trixie chided herself for even considering. Or a stampede of ponies, which it very well could have been.

There was no sign of what was causing the growing shaking. Off to Trixie's left was a line of trees, and in the distance the lights of a farm-house twinkled , but otherwise she was totally alone.

Chewing a little on her lower lip, the show pony lit her horn as her thoughts turned towards more and more implausible causes of the noise. Normally Trixie enjoyed traveling at night. Equestria's roads were the safest in all the known lands, and with Luna's moon always shining so brightly, it wasn't too hard to see. But as more and more frenzied worries began to assault her, each more exotic and fantastic than the last, Trixie began to regret her decision to travel at night.

Just as her fears and worries reached a fevered pitch that almost made Trixie consider abandoning her wagon and racing back to the relative safety of Manehattan, an almighty crash resounded behind her. Trixie tried to twist her body around in the reins connecting her to her cart in order to look at the cause of the crash, only to find a silvery burning ball of fire bouncing over her head, trailing little droplets of burning debris that fell like rain droplets from the branches of a tree.

Mouth falling open, Trixie's eyes trailed the object as it crashed for a second time, landing just beyond the road in a wide ditch.

For a long moment Trixie didn't know what to do, just standing frozen at the front of her wagon. Her mind finally snapped back into action when her mind registered the scent of burning wood. Head snapping back towards her wagon, the showmare let out an oath followed by a frantic yelp.

With a wave of her horn, Trixie undid the latches holding her to the cart. Rushing forward, she quickly channeled a simple water summoning spell. Nothing fancy like she'd use in her shows, no this was just a simple ball of water she dumped on top of the smoldering flames clinging to the roof of her most valued possession.

Breathing heavily as her heart hammered somewhere in the vicinity of her throat, Trixie took a few extra minutes to make sure her wagon was safe. Satisfied with her quick —though somewhat sloppy— spell-work, she turned her attention to whatever it had been that had almost destroyed her home.

Lighting up her horn, Trixie very carefully approached the embankment.

Her eyes grew wide as saucers as they settled on the 'object'.

Laying in the ditch, small flickering flames surrounding her diminutive form, was a young filly. In the light cast by Trixie's horn, the show-mare saw the filly's coat was a silver colour, while her mane and tail that were like shimmering sheets of obsidian, a streak of pure white cutting through the middle like a moonbeam across the night.

Groaning, the filly sat up, raising a hoof to rub at the side of her head just below a short horn while small wings flitted in agitation at her side. Trixie blinked, then blinked again, rubbing her eyes in disbelief at what she was seeing.

The filly muttered and groaned as she stood, just to fall immediately on her side with a gentle 'whump', her wings beating and flapping weakly.

Trixie, though she was ashamed to admit it, was confused and unsure what she should do. To say she wasn't the kindest or most altruistic pony around would have been an understatement. If anything she was one of the most self-centered and arrogant ponies that could be encountered. But she wasn't heartless, and only a total monster would abandon a filly in the middle of the night on a cold and desolate road. On top of that, the filly was clearly an alicorn, a race of which there were currently only a hoofful of known members. Unless one had been de-aged and changed their colours, the filly was clearly a new alicorn.

The implications, and possibilities, were not lost on Trixie.

Nor had the fact that the filly didn't seem to notice the light being cast by Trixie's horn.

Shuffling her hooves, Trixie looked longingly back towards her wagon. Maybe she should just move along and act like she'd never encountered the alicorn filly. Celestia or Luna would no doubt be sending the royal guard to investigate, if not come for themselves. Trixie had heard of the princesses' connections to that backwater bumpkin town of Ponyville, and given the events when she'd visited the town, Trixie was certain the princesses wouldn't look on her favourably. That upstart Twilight Sparkle —who frustratingly was the special, hoof-picked protégé of the princess— would have told her teacher lies about Trixie and how she had lured that accursed Ursa Minor to the town.

Yes, leaving was probably the best idea. But that small inherent goodness kept nagging at her. Plus, there were the benefits of being the caregiver for a living goddess.

Before a thin smile could form at the idea, the filly's head snapped towards Trixie.

"Who's out there? Show yourself or I'll... uh... blast you! Or something," the filly leveled her horn towards Trixie, eyes narrowed and posture lowering into a fighting stance.

"No need for that, little one!" Trixie trilled, cringing at her own words. 'Little one'? What was she thinking?

The filly's threat to 'blast her' could very well have been very real, unless, like a unicorn filly, her magic was haphazard at best until she got older.

Not willing to risk the chance of being blasted by evan a juvenile alicorn, Trixie waited.

Canting her head to one side then the other, the alicorn narrowed startling blue eyes, and then looked away. Holding her breath, Trixie slid down the embankment and into the ditch.

She was surprised at how large the alicorn filly was, for her build seemed to indicate an age of six or seven springs, but her size was easily as large a filly half again as old. Then again, the filly was an alicorn. All alicorns were tall and imposing.

Using a smile to hide her nerves, like she was doing a show for an important noble, Trixie approached the filly.

When she reached the filly, the silver alicorn slumped over, leaning against the unicorn.

"That's good... I'd hate to have to blast you," the filly yawned, her eyes fluttering shut and her breaths slowing.

Gently, Trixie lifted the alicorn and carried her to the back door of the wagon. With a swish of her horn, the wagon opened. The interior was painted in warm yellows and reds with folds of green and ethereal blue silk hung like drapes throughout. One side was covered in drawers and cuppards, while the other was left bare. Overhead was a latch, that when pulled, converted the wagon into a stage. As she was depositing the child on the sole bed within the wagon, the filly's eyes fluttered open again.

"Thank you," she murmured as she clutched at the bed's blankets. Repeating the words several more times, the filly drifted off into a deeper slumber.

Trixie had to shake her head as she snapped the door closed and started to re-attach the reins. Smiling and thinking about the new possibilities open to her, Trixie began to pull the wagon again, the gentle roll and crunch of the wheels on the road lulling her new passanger into the world of dreams.

Chapter Eleven: The Lost Temple

Myths and Birthrights

By Tundara

Part Two: Tremors in the East

Chapter Eleven: The Lost Temple

The angry glare of Sol filtered in through Bellerophon's great cabin window, casting a warm glow across Twilight's back. The sun had calmed a little since Twilight teleported the ship, perhaps understanding that the circumstances were extenuating, or perhaps Celestia had spoken with Sol. In either case, Twilight could feel the lingering gaze of the sun on her back, making her mane prickle and her hooves jitter.

Placed in front of her on the great dinner table were a series of charts. None of them showed the island. A sighting had been taken before Polaris and Regulas had both reluctantly gone back to sleep. They couldn't help again until nightfall, and neither was happy about the forced inactivity. This left Twilight on her own.

Well, not totally on her own, she corrected as she looked around the table and the ponies gathered to discuss their plans.

The ponies immediately beside Twilight were Pinkie and Rainbow, both looking pensive and concerned behind the masks they wore. Twilight had grown up being taught by Celestia and knew how to see past the fronts ponies put up. Despite the wide grin plastered across Pinkie's muzzle, or the look of indifference on Rainbow's face, both had their eyes firmly fixed on Twilight, each waiting for her to come up with a plan. Twilight didn't want to smash their hopes as her own stomach twisted in knots and the energy of another alicorn filtered through the ship much like the rays of the sun.

Around the table were also gathered Bellerophon's senior staff and officers. Hardy's face was a tight line as he glared at the empty charts. He'd very reluctantly ordered the ship to stay away from the island despite orders and threats from his princess. Near the shore almost a dozen wrecks were visible. The broken bodies of ships, some as large as the Bellerophon thrust upon rocks or dragged up onto the beach and nearly to the jungle. Instead he'd ordered the Third Lieutenant into the jolly boat with a sounding line and several of the stoutest crewmares to row. Their orders were simple; explore the near side of the cove for a safe anchorage.

Next to Hardy was the First Lieutenant, Fighting Spirit, and beside her was the Captain of the Marines, Polished Armour—a distant cousin on Twilight's foster father's side— followed by Lieutenant Prism Flux of Twilight's personal guard, with the ship's Master, Polished Sextant, at the end of the table. Across from them went Pinkie and Rainbow, then the Second Lieutenant, Poetic Verse, with Timely Crown at the end. Fleur stood in a corner, looking unsure whether to join them at the table or not. She was technically a foreigner, though she'd lived in Equestria since being a young mare, and her official role as an advisor to Twilight about the Old World amounted to nothing with Bellerophon on the precipice of danger.

Bellerophon remained a couple miles from the shore slowly making a loose circle as she waited for her officers to decide on a course of action and the jolly boat to return with the soundings.

"We should put a detachment of the marines ashore immediately and begin scouting and setting up a base-camp," Polished Armour said for the eleventh time. He'd been repeating the same thing over and over every chance he got. Twilight was beginning to get a head-ache as his grating voice echoed through her ears. She used to wonder why Shining tried to avoid their cousin, now she knew. "We can even take a few of the cannons ashore and set up a battery."

"No, that'd just work the crew to the bone and wear their hooves to stubs for nothing. Once Babbling Grin is back with the soundings we'll take Bellerophon in close to the shore and lay at anchor. She'll be able to watch a good portion of the island while the princess finds her missing stars." Hardy tapped a hoof on the table and the incorrect charts.

"I don't like the idea of the princess even going ashore, or taking the ship in that close to this island." Prism Flux grunted adjusting the longsword strapped to his side. "Especially if there is an Alicorn somewhere over there. As the encounter with the serpent showed, the princess can't properly defend herself yet."

"Hey! Twilight has done just fine in the past! I'd like to see you try to take on Nightmare Moon or Discord!" Rainbow leaned onto the table thrusting her muzzle into Prism Flux's face.

To his credit, the royal guard didn't even flinch.

"Dash," Twilight said her friend's name in a level tone, one that conveyed exasperation and a simple warning: that Twilight didn't need her protection. Cheeks turning a slight crimson, Rainbow stepped back, shooting Twilight an apologetic look while the Princess turned to Prism Flux and said, "Lieutenant, if the Alicorn on that island wants to harm me, or this ship, there is nothing anypony in this room could really do to stop it."

Taking a deep breath, Twilight turned to look out the stern windows and the island they framed. Tropical trees swayed in a gentle onshore breeze while the towering volcano sent thick plumes of smoke and ash skyward. Near the shore, she could make out the jolly boat as it continued to survey the bay.

"I'm going ashore, and there isn't anything anypony can do or say to stop me. Ankaa, Phad, and Antares need me and—,"

"Surely it'd be better to send for aid from Princesses Celestia, Luna, or Cadence, your majesty, at the very least," interrupted Polished Armour.

Several harsh glares leveled themselves on the Marine Captain. Rainbow barely contained herself from jumping up onto the table again.

Twilight considered the suggestion, and quickly dismissed it. They were too far away, a teleport would be measured in minutes, and Twilight had no way of contacting her cousins until sunset began and Celestia would extend her Awareness into the heavens to guide Sol.

"I can't wait that long, I'm afraid," Twilight said as she shook her head. Taking a deep breath to steady herself for what was to come, she added, "In fact, I can't wait any longer."

Several voices at once leapt into the cabin to protest or argue. The Second Lieutenant began to shout at Prism Flux. Polished Armour growled incredulous warnings past Hardy, who just stared at the incorrect charts on the table. Rainbow and First Lieutenant Fighting Spirit both leaned across the table, sparks shooting between their eyes as they hurled insults at each other.

The heated voices were brought to a sharp halt as a shrill whistle rippled through the cabin.

Lowering her hooves from her mouth, Pinkie scowled at each pony in turn.

"You ponies need to stop being such grumpy-gusses," she chided. "There isn't a thing anypony here could do to stop Twilight if she wants to go to that spook-a-rific island." Pinkie shuddered, a shiver working its way from the tip of her tail all the way to the end of the bouncy lock of mane hanging down in front of her face. "I have a very bad Pinkie Sense about this Twilight, but if you're going, so am I!"

"I cannot let you go unescorted, Princess," Prism Flux stated, thrusting forward his chest and chin in his golden toned royal armour.

"Wherever you go Twi, you know I'll be right there with you," Rainbow said with her customary cocky grin.

From her corner, Fleur added her voice to those offering to accompany the princess. All in all, only the ship's Captain, First Lieutenant, and Master didn't offer, their presence being more useful on the ship. Every other pony present around the table, and a few of the crew hanging about the skylight above, shouting through the glass to be heard, volunteered to go with her.

"Very good," Hardy said, stomping a hoof to gather everypony's attention. "We'll send you ashore in the tenders along with any volunteers among the crew who wish to accompany you and guard the boats while you venture ashore."

Hardy gave each pony present a chance to add their own thoughts. None did, save Twilight, who just thanked everypony. The meeting having accomplished its goals, Hardy lead a procession out onto the deck.

In the enclosed world of a ship it was impossible to contain information. Word had already spread that the princess was going ashore, so it was no surprise to the ship’s officers that two neat lines of sailors stood along the port side, embroidered scarves about their necks as if they were before an Admiral for inspection. Their stances were both loose and ordered, an air of casual pride clinging about the crew as they watched their captain, and princess. Across from the sailors stood a single line of Royal Marines, their scarlet uniforms and barding gleaming with freshness granted by careful brushing of the prime Equestrian cotton and polishing of brass buttons. The six members of Twilight's personal guard stood on either side of the door into the great cabin.

Twilight wondered for a moment what the gathered ponies expected from her. Should she give a speech? Was one necessary? Twilight had read a lot about leaders giving rousing speeches before battle or important events to stir the hearts and courage of the troops. She felt a little tingle of anxiety at the idea, and worse, the faintness of the three missing stars.

If she hadn't just expended half her magic getting to the island, she'd have forgone the whole idea of using the boats, teleporting all the volunteers to the island instead. But she had no idea what to expect, except that three of her stars were slowly fading and another alicorn was on the island. Already at a huge disadvantage, Twilight didn't want to risk expending any more of her magic unless necessary.

"Thank you, everypony," Twilight simply said, and then she walked through to the railing, and with a couple strong flaps of her wings, jumped down into the boat waiting beside the Bellerophon.

Captain Hardy gave the order for the boats to set off moments later. Dozens of sailors, each seeming as limber and bendable as Pinkie, clambering down the ships sides and into the two boats. Pushing off, the oars were shipped, and at the direction of the second lieutenant, the boats headed to the island.

Mist clung to the shore as they approached, and Twilight could feel her own apprehension rise when the keel slid into the pebble beach with a crunch. From within the shade of the jungle lingered a deathly silence. There were no birds singing, nor monkeys at play, only the slap-swish of the waves and splashing as ponies piled out into the surf and began to haul the boats out of the water.

"Princess, are you okay?" Fleur asked as she stepped up beside Twilight, breaking her out of her staring contest with the shadows clinging beneath the entwined jungle branches.

"Yeah, I'm okay," Twilight muttered as Pinkie and Rainbow joined them and she set off towards the island's heart. "The missing stars are this way."

With quick orders a portion of the crew was left behind, the rest forming around Twilight as she tried to lead the way. She wasn't really in the lead, not in the sense that she was at the front of the herd. The Marines and Royal Guards refused to have her out front where she'd be the first to be in danger. It was from the middle that she led, correcting those ponies out front if they began to move away from the direction Twilight could feel the stars. For an hour they walked, the sun beginning to crawl towards the horizon. Twilight tried to make the group move faster, but they were bogged down by numbers and the dense foliage.

She could feel that time was running out for the three missing stars, and the delays only served to make her grind her teeth.

* * *

Fleur was lost in her thoughts as they continued to trek towards the smoldering volcano. When she closed her eyes she saw the apparition that had taken her life and thrown it so drastically off course. She wished Fancy Pants was with her so he could advise her on what to do. He was so sure and gentle, knowing just what to say to calm her and make her see the truth. Without him Fleur felt more and more lost and so very alone. She barely knew Pinkie and Rainbow, and the Princess was something of an enigma.

The three had tried, in their own ways, to make Fleur feel welcomed and comfortable on the journey. Pinkie had done her best to make Fleur forget about the terror she experienced during the voyage, making little treats in the galley and sneaking them up to her friends. Rainbow had been too pre-occupied with her own issues once aboard the Bellerophon, but on the train ride to Baltimare, had regaled Fleur with stories about the various adventures she and the other Elements had been on over the years. Fleur supposed Rainbow hoped the tales would give her confidence that the princesses would figure something out. As for Twilight, Fleur had managed to find something like kinship talking about the changes both were experiencing.

Then there was her latest dream.

Fleur took a moment to brush a hoof over her lips. She could still feel a slight tingling from the dreams final moments, when the apparition residing inside had leaned forward and kissed her. Not passionately, but soft and tender.

More than the kiss, the spirit's words were what haunted Fleur's thoughts.

In the dream, Fleur stood upon a precipice overlooking the Alicorn valley, behind her the Citadel of Light stretched up the mountain with the cloud shrouded peak of Mount Alicornus and Celestia's Sanctuary hidden beyond. She felt calm, at peace as the morning sun caressed her face and made her coat tingle with radiating warmth. For the first time Fleur was completely herself and in control, not trapped within somepony else's memories.

Then Fleur felt a change in the air and the sound of hooves settling on the grass touched her ears.

Turning her head a little she gave a start as she stared at the cause of her current problems.

Within the realm of dreams the apparition was as she'd been in life: tall, proud and full of power. Except for her wings, seeing the apparition had been like looking into a mirror. Her mane was far more elegant, hanging down her left shoulder in a braid with golden wire and jewels binding it together, amethysts and blue diamonds glinting like stars. A thick golden torc almost as large as Celestia's rested around her neck, gem studded representations of Fleur's cutie mark set into the metal. Wrapped around her was a thin, white gossamer garment, trimmed with yet more gold. Gold laced sandals adorned her hooves.

After the initial shock of encountering that which had plunged her down a path she had never wanted to take, Fleur had started peppering the apparition with questions.

"I'm sorry, I am not here to answer your questions, mortal," the apparition stated with a note of disapproval. "I've come to give you a warning and an offer."

Frowning at the condescension rolling off her uninvited 'guest', Fleur snapped her mouth shut and waited.

"The one you call Twilight Sparkle is a threat to us, you must stop helping her," the apparition stepped towards the citadel's edge as she spoke, total finality making her voice heavy and almost solid enough that it made Fleur stagger back.

"A threat?" Fleur snorted, unable to keep back her incredulity. "She's been the most help to us, to me."

"She is a threat!" came the roaring response, the dream darkening and pressing in around Fleur, making her feel trapped. "I can't stop you from involving her, yet, but I can help you, reward you, if you see things my way. We do not need to be enemies and work at cross purposes." A sly smile touched her lips as she continued. "It would be the worst thing if we were to fight each other, actually. We are already under incredible strain, and it'd be all too easy for both of us to crack under the pressure."

Continuing to frown, Fleur asked, "What would occur if that were to happen?"

"We'd become like the Titans," replied the apparition. She paused a moment, and then added, "No, we'd become something much worse than even them. They simply ignored their duty to satisfy their own indulgences. We'd become a twisted and warped reflection of my glory, an abomination and plague upon all the world."

Unbidden an echoing laugh rose up through the dream, one heard across Equestria years ago, heralding eternal night.

Images began to dance before Fleur's eyes. She saw herself, wings and horn flaring, ivory barding covering her from head to hoof. A sharp yet hollow laugh rolled from her tongue as she stood in the middle of Canterlot, the city being consumed by flames.

"If we work together it won't come to that."

Shaking off the illusions, Fleur asked, "What do I have to do?"

"Lie."

Fleur tilted her head at the blunt response. She didn't have any qualms about lying per se, she had to do it often enough as Prance's ambassador to Equestria.

"In return I will lend you my strength and Wisdom."

Fleur snorted and rolled her eyes, saying, "As you did against the serpent yesterday?"

"You were never in any real danger," the apparition gave her own snort, mimicking Fleur's eye roll. "That was just an illusion. An extremely complex and elaborate one supported by other spells, but an illusion all the same. Astraea would never have been deceived like your Twilight Sparkle. She'd also have been able to slay the serpent."

"Astraea?"

Ignoring the question, the apparition instead continued as if Fleur hadn't even spoken.

"If she wasn't the Goddess of the Stars for this realm I wouldn't even consider Twilight a threat. She's so naive and untested, her knowledge of magic is limited to parlour tricks or simple utility. She has power, to be sure, but nothing to direct it towards or through." Giving a last snort, the apparition turned to Fleur. "Tell her I have left, that I've crossed over to the Elysium Fields, or something. Just convince her that you are getting better. Do this and I will grant you all that I am, and was, and will be again."

For several minutes Fleur considered the offer. The idea was tempting, almost any pony would have leapt at the gifts being offered. Fleur knew there was a catch, there always was one. Years submerged in the intrigue of court her taught her that lesson. The power itself wasn't as motivating as the fear of what would happen if she refused, if she tried to fight back.

"Celestia, aidez-moi... Oui, I accept your terms." Before the apparition could look too pleased with herself, Fleur held up a hoof and added, "Under a few conditions. First, you will tell me your name."

The apparition gave a sour pout, stepping away from Fleur and considering a flock of robins flitting around the garden. At length she said, "It could be dangerous for you to know my name now."

Shrugging, Fleur continued with her demands. "I also want to know why. Why did you pick me? What possible use could I be to you? I doubt it is access to the Embassy or inner-workings of Prance's government."

"It could very well be." The apparition gave Fleur a predatory grin. "From your memories I've seen that Prance has almost Seventy ships-of-the-line, including the impressive L'Orient. Does your precious princesses know she was built with the express purpose of fighting Equestria, and them specifically? A hundred and twenty of those cannons. Such interesting weapons. I wonder, would this citadel have fallen had such tools been available?"

Fleur stood, her face pale and her legs quivering at the apparition's words and implied threat.

"Oh doux, Celestia... How do you know of these things?" Fleur began to back away as she asked, wondering just where or what she could do to protect herself in a dream.

"The sharing of memories is not a one way transference, Fleur," replied the apparition with an airy wave of her hoof. "To actually answer your question, though, I didn't choose you. I was drawn to you, like iron is drawn to a magnet. You were simply a compatible soul that was close enough to draw my attention in my almost mindless state." Giving an almost defeated sigh, the apparition leaned on the railing, and said, "as for what I want, I want what every pony desires, Mortal or God: A chance to live. Through you I may get that chance again, but only if we work together."

"How can I trust you?" Fleur stopped backing away. Running would be completely pointless, since everything was all a dream. "You still haven't told me your name, either," Fleur added in a moment of boldness.

The apparition considered Fleur with eyes heavy with worry and a hint of anger. Fleur didn't feel like the anger was directed towards her, but rather inwardly. Abandoning the railing, the apparition approached Fleur.

"As I said, my name holds power. Power over me, in your case because of," the apparition gestured to the dream at large. "I've been trying to protect you from knowing too many of our names, especially those who came with me. If I tell you mine, will you trust me?"

"Perhaps a small amount," Fleur admitted grudgingly. "I cannot fully trust any pony who would try to steal another's life."

"That's not..." The apparition's voice trailed off in a disgruntled sigh. "Very well, I understand, and it is wise of you too."

Leaning forward, the apparition whispered in Fleur's ear, "Athena, my name was Athena."

The words were soft, sad, and held a power that jolted through Fleur.

She felt like she'd been kicked in the head by the entire Manehattan Hoofball team. Staggering back she clutched her head as each beat of her heart sent a new stab of pain deep beneath her temples. The pain was far sharper than during the encounter with Iridia.

"I'm sorry, but I did warn you," Athena said wrapping a wing around Fleur. "It will hurt only for a while."

"What... what happens now," Fleur hissed, still fighting against the throbbing in her head.

"Now we begin the next stage of our journey. Not as adversaries, but as partners," Athena said, a note of hope in her voice.

And then the apparition's lips touched Fleur's. There was a slight tingle and shock like static, but pure and sweet, not sharp and jolting.

Fleur heard something snap, like the cord of a violin breaking, dragging her from the day-dream mere moments before she walked into a tree. The memories of the previous night vanished, along with the dopey grin Fleur had begun to wear, as the rough unyielding bark smacked her in the face. A nearby marine and sailor leapt forward as Fleur fell onto her haunches, clutching her bruised nose and pride.

"Lady Fleur, are you alright?" the marine asked, his eyes scanning the jungle rather than Fleur.

"Oui, I am alright," Fleur groaned, blushing profusely and refusing to look anywhere but at her own hooves.

Before she could continue, a call from the front of the group made everypony's heart quicken.

"There is a break in the jungle and what looks to be ruins up ahead."

Fleur felt herself brushed aside as Twilight shoved her way forward, a look of singular determination on her face.

"Good, we're close, I can feel it!" the princess exclaimed, taking the lead as she stepped out into the afternoon sun.

Thankful that her faux pas was so quickly forgotten, Fleur and the rest of the group followed the princess.

They found themselves in a wide bowl within the jungle next to the volcano's base. Throughout the field stood the remnants of walls and pillars, choked by green vines, creating a patchwork maze. At the heart of the ruins stood a pyramid comprised of white marble that shone so bright it blinded those who looked towards it. Placed along what would have once been roads or thoroughfares were large statues carved from dark volcanic rock.

Trotting up to the nearest statue, Fleur tore off the vines obscuring it. At first she thought it was a pony, but there was something wrong with it. Frowning a little, she pulled off more of the vines, revealing that it had two faces, a normal one, and a second on the back of its head. Suppressing a shudder, Fleur backed away from the odd statue.

"It's a statue of a Janus," Twilight said right behind her, making Fleur jump with a small shriek. "Sorry," the princess apologised before continuing, "I read about them in The Massive Manual of Mythical Monsters. The Janus were believed to guard the Temple of Fate. It is said they were able to see both the future and past with equal and absolute clarity."

Twilight gazed up at the statue for a few more moments before she turned away and continued deeper into the ruins.

"Come on everypony, the stars should be just up ahead."

A deathly pall hung over the ponies as they followed the princess and her friends. A few of the crew looked anxiously back towards the jungle, but they all remained quiet. They were with the princess, it was the safest place they could be, they hoped.

The ground proved to be treacherous to walk across, many of the ponies slipping on loose rolling debris and gravel. A gasp escaped Fleur as she rounded a corner and peered deeper into the ruins. Bodies, dozens of them, lay strewn in haphazard clusters among the tangled vines and broken stone. They showed a breadth of age, some no more than sun bleached bones, others desiccated and weathered, the thin scraps of clothes clinging to their mummified forms.

Among the bones were small articles and items. Buttons from jackets or bits, actual coins, some marked with the stamp of Equestria, other's belonging to the First Prench Republic, or the even older Old Kingdoms from the classical era.

Fleur wasn't alone in noticing the grisly road the group walked. A light muttering began to flow from the crew, many swearing oaths to the princesses. The marines stayed silent, though their distress and concern was easily seen on their faces.

"They should be here," Twilight said as they rounded one last bend and came to what had once been a square or forum.

In the center stood a statue recognizable to every pony.

Balanced on her hind legs, forelegs tucked against her chest with imperial wings spread as if she was in flight was a statue of the Namegiver. The statue's marble mane still showed flecks of the red paint that would have once been used to make the Namegiver appear more life-like. Etched onto the flank was a quill thrust into an ink-pot, leaving no doubt about the statue's identity. Still, the statue had seen better days. One wing was broken off at the first joint, the other had lost most of its primary feathers, shattered stone littered the statue's base. Likewise, the tip of the Namegiver's horn was missing.

Twilight hardly glanced up at the statue as she began to pace back and forth in front of it, small grunts and groans of exasperated displeasure leaving her mouth every few seconds.

"Where are they? They should be right here!" she said, stomping a hoof.

"Twi, what do these funny pictures mean?" Pinkie asked. The Element of Laughter had approached the statue and was peering at the tall base and the hieroglyphs carved into its surface.

Curious herself, Fleur trotted closer to inspect the glyphs. They were written in the old pictographic style of the Ancient Era. Running her hoof over the sun smoothed stone, Fleur looked from one glyph to the next trying to puzzle out the story they told.

The first was clearly of Ioka, the Great Turtle, She Who Bears The World. The glyph was exquisite in its detail, showing the mighty mountains that grew from Ioka's shell to help balance the world, with clouds, stars, and the sun and moon hovering on either side of the disc to display night turning to day. The surface of the disc itself wasn't depicted.

Beneath the glyph of Ioka was a map and at the map's center was a symbol Fleur didn't recognise. She assumed it must have been for the island, as the location was about right.

Beside Ioka and the map were more traditional glyphs arranged in columns. Fleur couldn't read what they said, there were very few alive who could.

"What is all this?" Rainbow snorted, gesturing towards the first glyph.

"It's the world, Dash," Twilight said, still pacing in circles and staring feverishly at the ground.

"What, the world is a turtle?" Rainbow laughed, clutching her sides in the paroxysm of mirth.

"No, it rests on the shell of a turtle," Twilight continued, then she stopped her pacing and gave out a frustrated shriek. "Where are they? They are close, I can feel it."

"Princess, if the stars are not here, perhaps it would be better to return to the ship and—"

"I'm not going back to the ship, Polished!" Twilight snarled, the anger in her voice making all the nearby ponies take a step back. "I know they are here, just... beneath us?"

The last words were as much a question as a statement. Twilight snapped her head up, and Fleur could almost swear she saw a light flash above the princess' head as inspiration struck her.

"Everypony, spread out and look for someway underground. A crypt, tomb, catacomb, basement, dungeon, or something!"

Lighting her horn with a spell, Twilight began shaking her head back and forth as she trotted off, eyes scanning for some way into the earth. She'd only gone a few steps when a scream broke out from the ranks of sailors. A beige pony leapt through the air, clutching a massive stone head sticking from the ground.

"What is it? What happened? Tell me," Polished shouted as he raced through the dispersing and confused ponies, stopping right before the statue and screaming mare.

"A spider was crawling up my tail," the sailor muttered, her admission creating a chorus of laughter at her fear.

That was when the statue opened its eyes.

The sailor slowly slid down to the ground, turning in time to see the wide stares of everypony else.

"What? Is the spider still on me?" she asked, genuine panic creeping into her voice as she spun around to check her tail and mane.

"It's a Janus!" Twilight screamed the warning, her throat almost ripping as she resorted to the Royal Canterlot Voice. "A real Janus!"

The warning came too late for Polished Armour.

From out of the loose soil rose the Janus, roots snapping as it stepped from the hole it had occupied for untold years. Polished Armour turned to run, terror etched across his face. Above him the Janus raised one colossal hoof. Twilight tried to call on her magic, to grab Polished Armour and drag him out of harm's way. She was too slow. With a finality that sent tremors through the gathered ponies, the Janus took its first step, and Polished Armour was gone.

The two-faced guardian cast its gaze downward, fixating on the ponies gathered around Twilight and the hieroglyphs.

"Everypony," Twilight said, her voice sounding distant and confused in Fleur's ears, "back to the boats!"

As a single body the gathered sailors and soldiers turned, fleeing before the two-faced guardian towering over the ruins. All except four mares. Twilight stood her ground, flanked by Pinkie, Rainbow, and Fleur.

"Girls, you really should run," Twilight growled, channelling her magic into a lance of simple telekinetic force that shattered into motes of light against the Janus' chest. The guardian hardly seemed to notice the hit, taking another lumbering step out of the hole.

Rainbow gave a derisive snort, while Pinkie shook her head so rapidly Fleur was surprised it didn't pop off the pony's shoulders.

"We're sticking with you, Twi." Rainbow gave a cocky grin before launching herself into the sky, twisting around and angling her flight towards the Janus.

Fleur had heard stories of the Pegasi Legions. She was more familiar with the ones that lived in Prance, but she knew that their loyalty was unquestionable no matter the Legion. According to the reports on the Elements of Harmony, Rainbow belonged to the Stormbreakers. She was even second in line to become their Commander, after her older half-sister.

Twisting around the Janus, Rainbow struck it on the chin with a quick thrust of her hind legs. The Janus' head snapped completely around as if it was barely attached.

"Whoa, that is gross," Rainbow said as she tucked her wings to gather some speed before putting some distance between herself and the towering guardian.

Ignoring Rainbow, the Janus cast its gaze across the assorted ponies until it settled on Fleur. Never wavering, the Janus strode forward, the ruins trembling at its passage. Opening its mouth a low terrible howl, filled with the despair of a thousand wives lamenting the loss of their husbands, erupted across the ponies.

Fleur's legs began to tremble as the Janus crossed the courtyard.

Around them came the chorus of snapping vines as the smaller statues awoke. The temple ruins were filled with the staccato sounds of stone hooves striking the ground and immediately surging into a sprint, chasing after the fleeing ponies.

"Fleur, next step it takes, grab its left hind leg and pull as hard as you can," Twilight ordered, not looking towards the smaller Janus as they ran past and ignored the quartet.

Nodding weakly and gulping down a spike of fear, Fleur lowered her horn and began to gather her magic. As the Janus began the step that would carry it the last few yards to the group, Fleur and Twilight reached out together to grab the monster's legs. At once Fleur knew something was wrong. It was like trying to grab an oiled rubber ball with her hooves, her magic slipping off the Janus and finding no purchase.

"Oh, Celestia," Twilight growled half in shock and half in fear, "they are magic resistant."

Insides twisting as she released the simple spell, Fleur leapt aside at the last moment. A single massive hoof crashed down on the spot she had occupied, splintered shards of stone pattering off her coat. Gathering her hooves beneath her, and with no other thoughts besides escape, Fleur ran. Watching her with the curiosity one watches an ant looking for food, the Janus' gaze followed the fleeing unicorn, ignoring Twilight, Pinkie, and Rainbow.

Picking herself and Pinkie up from where they'd landed after leaping out of the guardian's path, Twilight began to issue new orders. "Dash, grab Fleur and—," the remainder of Twilight's words were lost as the ground beneath her exploded upwards, two arms black as night and filled sparkling lights and twisting purple and blue splotches, reached up, grabbing the princess and Pinkie and dragging both below.

"Twilight! Pinkie" Rainbow yelled, twisting her head between the hole and the fleeing Fleur. Suppressing a groan and following her heart, she tucked her wings and dove through the hole, leaving Fleur alone with the Janus.

Fleur had no time to wonder about what had happened to the princess or her friends before the Janus jumped forward, one massive hoof swinging sidelong towards her. Unable to avoid it, Fleur twisted and rolled with the blow, drawing on every lesson her fencing instructor had given her as a filly. Her chest and side exploded with pain as she was sent tumbling and bouncing. Gasping and choking back a cry, she slowly regained her feet.

Dispassionate in its every action, the Janus continued towards Fleur.

Scrambling backwards, she fired off a telekinetic blast that did little more than irritate the Janus, before turning and running as fast as she could deeper into the ruins.

She needed to change tactics quickly. Running was pointless and her repertoire of spells, like most unicorns, were designed for everyday living, not for combat. Worse, the magic resistant nature of the Janus made the very few that could have been used to defend herself worthless.

'You are not alone,' whispered Athena's voice. 'I will deal with this,' the dead goddess said, smoke beginning to pour from Fleur.

"I didn't agree to this," Fleur choked out ducking and weaving through a series of narrow passages.

'You cannot stop this, Mortal,' Athena said with a tone of total finality.

Staggering as walls both before and behind her were shattered underneath the Janus' hooves, Fleur felt herself fall into darkness and dreams as a cloud of dust settled on her. Snorting, the Janus cleared away the obscuring cloud, revealing Fleur, but not Fleur.

Standing tall, Athena raised herself on translucent wings, sparks arcing along her horn as a smile touched her stolen lips. A thin sheen of smoky magic clung to her like a winter cloak, wispy tendrils leaking into the air from the tip of her tail and hooves.

"Janus, you face your slayer," Athena crowed, magic sparking along Fleur's horn.

"You do not belong," the Janus responded, speaking with a thousand voices as one. "Your mere existence warps and twists the Tapestry of Fate. You must be destroyed and Fate restored to Harmony."

"Perhaps," Athena said, the whisper of laughter on the tip of her tongue. "But you lack the power to kill that which is already dead. Destroy this vessel and I will find another. Not that you'll be able to do that much."

Face impassive, the Janus lunged towards the fallen goddess.

Horn glowing brighter and brighter, Athena ducked beneath the blow and put a little distance between her and the guardian. At the ruins edge she saw the marines and sailors in a fighting retreat against the other, smaller, Janus. Like Fleur, the marines had abandoned using spells against the creatures, instead drawing their swords. At their head stood Prism Flux, the captain of Twilight's personal guard, shouting orders to the professional soldiers and sailors as he directed his blade into the neck of a Janus. The blade struck, black sand bursting from the wound as the creature fell. Two more took its place driving the desperately pressed ponies back to the very edge of the jungle.

Athena's smile grew wicked and twisted as she continued to duck and weave her way around the Janus' attacks.

From Fleur's horn thrust a spear of blinding light. Instead of launching it at the Janus, Athena grabbed the magic in an aura of telekinesis. A second spell conjured brilliant steel armour even as the spear of light began to solidify, warping and changing until a long blade of silver with a golden hilt sat in her magical grasp. The claymore hovered beside its dead mistress, an eye of ruby red glaring down upon the Janus.

With a yell, the dead goddess descended —Tartarus following in her wake— her sword screaming with all the lives it had cut down.

A blinding light flashed across the island, laying low all who gazed upon its glory. Ponies as far away as the Marelantians would claim to see the flash and hear the crack of thunder accompanying it.

Panting through her mortal shell, Athena alighted and turned to watch with grim satisfaction as the elder Janus fell, the ruins trembling and walls crumbling beneath its headless body. Smile growing wider, Athena looked upon where the ponies from the Bellerophon had been battling the other Janus, both groups staggering back to their hooves.

Flicking her translucent wings, Athena launched herself towards the renewing fray.

"Regroup, regroup," Prism Flux order, blinking his eyes to clear the spots caused by Athena's attack. The blindness passed just in time for him to see three Janus leaping forward, baring mouths filled with teeth of jagged stone.

Leaping over the Janus, Athena brought her sword down with a simple flick of magic, blade cleaving through stone as it would through water, cutting the three into halves. Landing before the surprised ponies, Athena spread her wings wide.

"Look upon me and know Death," Athena boomed to the Janus.

Standing between the two groups, the dead goddess waited with the patience of the ageless for one side to make a move. The Janus stared at her, and beyond her, and what they saw frightened them. Wordlessly they began to retreat back into the depths of the ruins.

Athena gave a smug smile.

"Lady Fleur?" Prism Flux stepped forward, his still spotty vision trying to peer through the magic clinging to Fleur.

Athena began to speak, but faltered, her features falling as her eyes rolled into the back of her head, their glow fading. Prism Flux jumped foreword to catch Fleur as she collapsed, her sword clattering onto the stone beside her.

"Mister Crown!" the lieutenant called, the surgeon making his way through the weary and wounded ponies.

Timely barely gave Fleur a cursory look before he stood back up with a snort.

"She's just suffering magical exhaustion. A good night's rest and she'll be fine," he said as he turned to tend to other ponies.

Prism nodded stiffly, a deep worried look on his face as he glanced to the ruins, and the dark forms moving about.

"We need to get back to the ship and gather reinforcements," he said at length, a note of defeat in his voice.

Placing the wounded who couldn't walk on the backs of other ponies, they began the slow trek back through the jungle and towards the beach.

* * *

Coughing, Twilight raised herself slowly to her hooves. A small circle of light splashed down upon her and Pinkie from the hole high above. Summoning a little portion of her magic, Twilight created a ball of light that lit the area revealing a truly cavernous chamber. The room was comprised of smooth stones unblemished by time. Only the hole above her head gave any change to the uniformity of the walls.

Behind her, Twilight saw in the center of the chamber a slightly raised dais, and on it a bed. Beyond the dais and bed the remainder of the chamber was cloaked in thick shadows, the light from Twilight's spell unable to penetrate.

Curiosity prickling along the back of her mane, Twilight picked herself up and began to cross the space to the bed. As she approached, Twilight could feel something was wrong. The base of her horn thrumming, each step intensifying the sensation. The other alicorn was extremely close. But Twilight and Pinkie were alone in the chamber, Twilight's friend slowly picking herself up and brushing away the dirt and debris clinging to her coat. Slowing down, Twilight frowned and narrowed her eyes on the bed, and a lump in its center.

Her stars were close, extremely close, but she wasn't sure where they were.

"Twi'! Pinkie!" Rainbow called, diving through the hole and speeding down towards her friends.

"Over here, Dash," Twilight called, waving before she jumped up onto the dais.

"Whoa, who's that," Rainbow asked, performing a running landing that brought her to a stop at the edge of the bed.

Twilight, chewing on her lower lip, found herself warring between curiosity and her desire to find the stars. Her only clue being the bed, Twilight leaned forward to see who, if anyone, was in it.

"Oh, Sweet, Merciful Celestia," Twilight cried out at once, jaw falling open. "It's Faust!"

The alicorn laid in a deep slumber, her coat the pristine white of fresh snow while her rust-red mane splayed across her pillows. Twilight sensed ancient magic, an enchantment more powerful than anything she'd encountered before, emanating from little motes of light floating about the alicorn and bed. A few of the motes clung to the alicorn's mane and wings like dust balls.

"Faust?" Rainbow frowned. "Wait, as in—."

"As in Celestia and Luna's mother... and my aunt!"

"And my prisoner," rumbled a new voice from within the shadows. "As soon you will be, Alicorn of the Stars."

From the shadow's stepped a dragon as dark as night. His black scales seemed to slough off the darkness like a snake shedding its skin, revealing thousands of bejeweled lights, each glimmering like a star as it caught and reflected the shimmer of Twilight's spell. The shadows covering the far side of the chamber fell, and Twilight saw that the shadow was itself the dragon as her light shone onto the wall beyond the beast. Raising his horn rimmed head, the dragon gave the four ponies a toothy grin.

Lifting a paw, he opened his claws to reveal the missing stars, their lights dim and fluttering.

Mistress, Ankaa choked, Run, it's a trap.

"Your little star is correct, princess; this has all been a trap, and now I will have both you and Fate."

Chuckling, the dragon lifted the stars, and before Twilight's horrified eyes he swallowed them.

"No," Twilight screamed, charging forward with Rainbow at her side.

Moving with sinewy grace, the dragon lifted himself up, wings slamming the air and sending Rainbow tumbling backwards in the sudden maelstrom. The pegasus struck the bed, grabbing covers and the bed's occupant before both were sent rolling away in a ball of sheets and kicking hooves. Gritting her teeth, Twilight fought against the wind for a moment longer than Rainbow before she too was sent tumbling, smashing into the far wall. Laughing in triumph, the dragon landed back onto all four paws and stalked towards Pinkie.

"I have no need for the so-called Elements of Harmony," the dragon mused, purple trimmed flames licking at the corners of his mouth.

"You're a big Meanie-Mc-Meanerstien!" Pinkie declared, standing her ground. "And do you know what I do to really big Meanie-Mc-Meanerstieneses?"

"You talk like a foal to them while they contemplate eating you, or just stepping on you and being done with it?" the dragon chortled darkly.

"Nope!" Pinkie bounced once, and then reached behind herself, and in a smooth motion, pulled out a cannon painted a baby blue that matched her twinkling eyes. "I give them this!" she declared tugging on the cannon's cord.

The dragon barely had time to look shocked at the cannon's appearance before flames belched and a ball of iron shot from the cannon’s mouth. The dragon roared in anger more than pain as the cannonball struck him on the shoulder and chipped a scale. Cracking like a whip, the dragon's tail lashed out at Pinkie, the earth pony barely getting out a laugh in fear before she was sent tumbling across the floor, a thin trail of crimson droplets left in her wake.

"Pinkie!" Twilight yelled, lifting a hoof towards her fallen friend.

Gritting her teeth tight, Twilight turned to glare at the laughing dragon as he clutched his claws to his belly.

"It is futile, little alicorn! Submit, and the eons will pass for you in blissful dreams."

"Never," Twilight said as she called on her magic.

Chains burst from the floor and wall, each as thick as those used for Bellerophon's anchors. Twilight grinned in grim satisfaction as the chains wrapped themselves around the dragon's neck and limbs, dragging it over backwards with a resounding and bone numbing crash. Twilight expected the dragon to struggle and try to break the chains, but instead he laid on his back, tongue hanging from his mouth and eyes rolling into the back of his head, all sense knocked from him.

Sighing in relief, Twilight began to head towards Pinkie, but was stopped by a sharp intake of breath and moan from the pile of sheets and pony. Pinkie, already getting back onto her hooves, seemed unharmed, though her movements were wobbly and uncertain. Twilight changed direction, using her magic to pull the sheets away and revealing a groaning Rainbow and very awake alicorn.

Faust looked up, her breaths coming in short shivering gasps. Small motes of magic continued to cling to her wings and rust coloured mane. Lifting a hoof, she covered her eyes, squinting up at the hole in the chamber's roof before lowering her gaze down to chained dragon. Trying to raise herself onto her hooves, she staggered to the side only to be caught by Rainbow before she could fall.

"Careful, Princess," Rainbow said, jumping up and doing her best to support the much larger pony.

"'Princess'?" Faust repeated with a slight quirk of her brow and a hoarse laugh. "I've been called many things over the long eons, but not 'Princess'."

"You're Faust, right?" Twilight asked before Rainbow could respond, the pegasus huffing a bit but clamping her mouth shut.

"I am," she replied, still leaning against Rainbow, "And you are my niece, Twilight Sparkle. This is a surprise, I have to admit. I thought we would meet when I was brought to Canterlot to see my daughters. This is wrong, but a good kind of wrong. Something has long muddied the Tapestry and it will be interesting to see it finally resolved."

"Aren't you happy to be out of the glowie-whooshy lights?" Pinkie asked as she stumbled towards the trio and cocked her head to one side, making a flap of loose skin above her eye flop down. Twilight almost blanched as she saw the ghastly wound and the red flowing down the side of her friend's face.

"Pinkie!" Twilight exclaimed rushing over, all thoughts and questions about why her Aunt was in the temple replaced by concern for her friend. "Pinkie, are you alright?"

The question was stupid, Pinkie was far from alright. For a few moments she stood on wobbling hooves, a sloppy grin on her face, then she fell to her side like a sack of apples. Her breaths were short and shallow, a bubble of blood growing and shrinking from a nostril with the rise and fall of her chest.

"Twilight, I don't feel so good," Pinkie continued to grin as Twilight scooped up her head and rested it against her shoulder. "I think I'm going to take a little nappy-nap. Wake me in the morning, Twi..."

"Pinkie?" Twilight's voice was sharp and hoarse with panic, growing higher as Pinkie's leg went limp and her head rolled to the side. "Pinkie! No..."

"This is wrong," Faust said as she and Rainbow approached, the pegasus' face white as Faust's coat. "She's supposed to die a great-grand-mare. Everything is wrong. This isn't in the Tapestry."

"Then do something!" Twilight tried to scream the words, but all that came out was a short sob.

"I don't have the strength," Faust gave her head a slow shake, "but you do."

Twilight's eyes brightened imperceptibly. "Tell me what to do."

"You need to use four Runes; Samekh, Sewels, Berkana, and Wynnko. Samekh is the base, use it to create the matrix. Lace through it Sewels and Berkana, like bone and sinew inside a body. Can you see it?"

The moment Faust began mentioning the runes' names, Twilight had clamped her eyes shut and began to draw on her magic, all of it. She didn't care if she exhausted herself or not, she had to succeed in this spell, and there wouldn't be time to attempt a second casting. Through their touch, Twilight could feel Pinkie's heart beat, slow and so dismally faint. Fear, for Pinkie and that she wouldn't be able to cast the spell, thrummed through Twilight, making sweat prickle atop her brow.

Trying to still her own heart, Twilight concentrated on the runes and Faust's voice. The first three were easy, almost every unicorn encountered them and their teaching was common. Creating the shell of the matrix Twilight began building atop the middle rune. She felt like she recognised the created matrix, like she'd seen it in her books before. That just left the fourth rune; a rune she'd never heard about before.

Before Twilight could start to panic or question the directions, Faust continued, "Wynnko is a Lost Rune, you won't have heard of it. Picture a vertical line, the top has a short cross structure, while the bottom rests in the middle of a base twice as long. In the middle are two legs. The upper one is on the left and curve downward, the lower is on the right and turns up, together the two create an impression of a square with two corners missing."

"I got it," Twilight said, trying to project confidence she didn't feel into her voice.

"Good, Wynnko is a Life and Joy type rune and the weave’s cap. It needs to be placed at the weave’s heart, with Fire spread around the weave unevenly."

Twilight gulped. She wanted to ask why the energy needed to be uneven. She wanted to ask far more than that one question, but it leapt up as she began to do something everypony, even Celestia, had warned her not to do; cast a spell with unharmonious energy inside the weave. Twilight could feel the wildness of the spell, the hunger, violent twisting it exhibited as it tried to wrench itself free of her horn.

She'd done something wrong, Twilight realised. She had to have done the rune wrong. No spell should have been reacting so strongly.

"You're doing it," Faust said calmly, her voice breaking through the rising tide of panic gripping Twilight. "Good, now direct it towards your friend like you would any other spell."

Trusting Faust, Twilight did as she was told, the magic hissing and bubbling from her horn like a stream of ethereal acid. Twilight grunted and ground her teeth together as the spell ate away at her remaining magic, the unfamiliar rune greedily consuming all it could reach. Panting, Twilight watched the lavender glow of her magic darken and turn a sickly green as it touched Pinkie, wrapping itself around the unconscious pony. The glow continued for a brief few seconds, before fading away.

Nothing more happened.

"It... didn't work?" Rainbow choked out the words, looking between her two friends and the alicorn leaning against her. "P-Pinkie...?"

Tears gathered in Twilight's eyes as she looked down at her friend's still form. 'It wasn't fair,' Twilight miserably thought to herself. Pinkie did everything for other ponies, dedicated her life to bringing joy and laughter wherever she went. It wasn't right or fair that Pinkie should die in such a place.

Twilight shook her head trying to deny what had happened. Pinkie wasn't gone, she couldn't be gone. At any moment she was going to leap up, a song on her lips and tell Twilight not to be such a glum-chum, or something. Between her ears, just behind the base of her horn, Twilight felt something crack and give out. Everything had gone so wrong so quickly.

'No, it isn't fair, is it? Then again, Life is not fair. It takes ponies too young, or ponies that lead good, honest lives. Just snatches them away from you. Except, this wasn't Life, it was him,' whispered a voice into Twilight's ear.

An eye twitched, an ear flicked, and Twilight turned to gaze at where the defeated dragon lay.

"You!" she roared, rising into the air with steady beats of her wings and letting Pinkie's body slip from her hooves. "You did this!"

In a flash of magic Twilight crossed the room to hover above the dragon. He stared up at her, and through her, a slight grin on his long muzzle. Letting out a scream, Twilight dove, slamming into the dragon's chest with a crack like thunder.

She didn't say anything. There were no words to convey the pain and emptiness Twilight felt, to assuage the anger that began to fill the place in her heart Pinkie had occupied. Roaring her agony to the heavens above, Twilight gathered what scraps of magic she retained. Filling her hooves with her power, she slammed down on the dragon's chest, again and again.

The chamber was filled with the repeated peels of thunder as Twilight continued to strike the dragon. A crack formed in his scales. With a burst of magic, Twilight wrenched it away to reveal a soft swirling nebula beneath. Placing a hoof on the wound Twilight could feel them, her missing stars. All three were so close to fading away entirely, to becoming naught but memory.

"Do it, show me your conviction," the dragon rumbled, a weary laugh making his star-studded form tremble.

Growling, Twilight raised herself again, ready to deliver the blow.

She was stopped by Rainbow, the pegasus holding Pinkie as she stroked her friend's mane.

"Don't do it, Twilight, you're better than him."

Hesitating and hooves trembling, Twilight stared at the wounds she had created. Beneath them she sensed the missing stars give one last trembling flicker, and then felt them no more.

For a moment more Twilight stared down at the dragon. In a wordless scream Twilight shouted all her hate and agony. Had she been a sword, her heart would have been her blade and she would have driven herself deep into his chest. But she wavered, lowering herself back to the dragon's chest as defeat and despair overcame her. She had failed. Failed her friend, failed her stars.

As much as she hated the beast beneath her, she hated herself more. Twilight hated the guilt twisting and churning inside her gut. Her cousin, her stars, Pinkie; she'd failed all of them. Maybe if she'd been stronger, or faster, or knew more magic, she could have saved them.

Tears threatening to spill from her eyes, Twilight whispered, "No, Pinkie would not want this."

"I wouldn't want what?" Pinkie's chipper voice cut through the haze of sadness clutching Twilight.

Snapping her eyes to her friends, Twilight was dumbfounded to see Pinkie's clear blue eyes gazing up at her. Rainbow looked absolutely shocked, her mouth hanging open as Pinkie squirmed into a sitting posture.

"Ook, my little head feels like Pappy Pie just used it to break open a rock," Pinkie groaned, rubbing her temples.

She didn't get a chance to say anything else as she was engulfed in a set of purple wings, Twilight clutching Pinkie tight to her chest.

"I—I thought we'd lost you," Twilight said, face buried in Pinkie's bouncy mane.

Twilight felt Rainbow join the hug, the pegasus' wet face burying into Pinkie's other side.

"Lost me? But I didn't go anywhere!" Pinkie protested, trying to tilt her head but unable to as her friends pressed in tighter.

After a few moments, Twilight pushed Pinkie back and looked her friend over. Pinkie looked fine, the only sign she'd ever been hurt a long scar running across Pinkie's brow and down to her jaw.

"Wow, nice scar, Pinks," Rainbow said through a wet chuckle as she rubbed furiously at her eyes to clear away her tears.

"Scar? I got a scar?" Pinkie blinked a few times in shock, then her wide grin grew to cover her face. "Ooo, is it big and nasty? A real spoocktacular one? Ooo, I'm going to have to come up with some really good stories about how I got it!" Pinkie clapped her hooves together as she laughed.

Twilight and Rainbow joined in on her infectious humour, the later saying, "Pinkie, I think the truth is at least ten times cooler than any story you could come up with! As soon as you say, 'I got it fighting a dragon made up shadows' ponies will know how awesome you are."

"As awesome as you, Dashie?"

Rainbow hesitated, then said, "Yeah, at least as awesome as me."

A polite cough behind them made the three jubilant mares turn to regard Faust. The alicorn sat gazing up at the bound form of the dragon, a polite mask of indifference on her face. It shouldn't have surprised Twilight how much the look reminded her of Celestia.

"What do you plan to do with him?" Faust asked, gesturing to the dragon.

Twilight considered for a moment, then said, "Nothing, I guess."

"What?" Rainbow almost exploded, her features darkening. "He almost killed Pinkie! He ate your stars! And you're just going to let him get away with it?"

"No," Twilight said at length. "But I can't kill him. We'll leave him here, trapped as Aunt Faust was trapped. What else can I do?"

The dragon chuckled, lifting his head until the chains over his neck began to strain. With a sound like shattering crystal, the chains snapped one by one, the dragon rolling onto his stomach before standing and stretching.

"Your judgement would be fair, if you could contain me here, Twilight Sparkle, Alicorn of the Stars and Wishes," the dragon chortled as he gave his wings a short flap.

Twilight just glared.

"You could have done that the entire time, couldn't you?" She accused.

"Yes, but I was curious to see if you would try to destroy me or not. Or if worse would happen. Congratulations, you passed this test."

"Test? Test!" Twilight's eye began to twitch frantically and she had to take a very slow breath to prevent herself from launching herself at the dragon again. "You call all this a test?"

"Yes," the dragon dipped his head down so he was eye level with Twilight. "As was the serpent. You did so poorly against that test that I felt certain you would fail here as well."

Grinding her teeth together, Twilight had to bite her tongue, hard, to hold back the litany of curses she wanted to level at the dragon. Chuckling, the dragon opened his mouth, three faint motes of light spilling out onto the floor.

Twilight's anger vanished in a flash, her wings swooshing open as she jumped forward, three names laughing from her tongue. "Ankaa, Phad, Antares!" she cried, scooping the three stars up into her hooves. The energy coming from the three was weak, almost non-existent. Cooing softly to the three, Twilight closed her eyes, sending some of her own magic down into the stars until their light began to grow. Draping her mane over the stars, Twilight opened the conduit up to the heavens, sending the three up to their beds high above. The sun didn't even protest or attempt to bar the passage of the stars.

"You never intended to destroy them, did you?" Twilight asked, relief for Pinkie and her stars making her body sag.

"No. That they had to be harmed at all was a necessary evil. I had to be certain that you would not succumb to madness and despair as so many other alicorns have done. The nightmares and terrors your kind can unleash when you fall is terrible indeed. There was a moment where I thought you were going to surrender to your despair and anger."

"What would you have done if I had fallen or given in?" Twilight narrowed her eyes up at the dragon.

"I would have attempted to contain you here in this prison with the aid of the Alicorn of Fate," the dragon admitted sheepishly.

Faust gave a mirthless laugh. "You would have failed, spectacularly, Draco," she said. "When my niece falls you will find yourself completely under her power. You would have been her first and mightiest ally."

"Draco? As in the constellation Draco?" Twilight pinched her brows together before realization hit her. "You're a Stellar Beast, not a dragon!"

Draco dipped his muzzle in a slight nod.

"I never said I was a dragon," he rumbled, clutching his star studded belly.

Slapping a hoof to her face, Twilight let out a groan. "I should have known! You look a lot like the Ursas."

Draco's face fell flat. "Please, don't put me in the same lot as those bears." Huffing a little, he extended a single claw, holding it before Twilight. "You have my apologies for putting you through these trials, Princess."

Twilight said nothing. She just turned away from the Stellar Beast and approached her aunt. Faust's expression was utterly unreadable. It could give Celestia's Serenity a run for its bits. The older alicorn, much older Twilight realised, just sat staring off into space. Every few moments her eyes would twitch as if she was reading a missive and her lips would move as though she were speaking before returning to stony neutrality.

"So, what happens now?"

Blinking away the daze, Faust quirked a brow and said, "we leave. For one and a half thousand years I have been prisoner in this place. It will be good to stretch my wings and legs."

"No, I meant right now!" Twilight gave an exasperated grunt, gesturing towards the Stellar Beast. "What do we do with him!"

Blinking like she'd just stepped out into the sun, Faust looked between the two, and frowned.

"Do we have to do anything?"

"He hurt ponies, he can't just get away with that!" Rainbow shouted, fluttering up on her wings while glowering up at Draco. "Pinkie almost died! And... others did," Rainbow finished, her voice and wings dropping until she stood, sagging, on the ground.

"Ah," Faust said, sitting straighter as comprehension dawned. She grew quiet again afterwards, her sight growing distant. "Eight ponies have, or will, die from today's events. I cannot see whom, precisely, the eight are. The Weave of Fate is too muddied right now."

"That is not my fault," Draco rumbled, his wings bristling at the accusations. "The Janus killed those ponies, not I."

"But you lured us here!" Twilight snarled, her wings flaring. Unbidden, the last image of Polished Armour danced before her eyes, making her heart race and blood boil. "You are responsible."

"Responsible? For the death of a few ponies? What does it matter? They live such short lives regardless. Today or in fifty years, it doesn't matter. Death is death, and it comes for all of them far too swiftly." Snorting a puff of black smoke, Draco began to slink back into the shadows, his star studded form slowly dissolving away. "Besides, there is nothing you can do to me with your present knowledge. Perhaps, in time, you'd be able to do something, but not now, not today. We will meet again, Alicorn of the Stars."

Draco laughed as the last of his form vanished, his deep rumbling voice lingering for a few moments before fading.

"So, he just gets away with all of it?" Twilight grumbled, her shoulders sagging a little. "With keeping you a prisoner. With getting ponies killed. With stealing my stars. He just, gets away with it?"

"For today," Faust said as she continued to gaze up at the sky through the hole. "Perhaps for a long time. I cannot see the weave so well where monsters and spirits are concerned. Also, he wasn't my jailor. The Stellar Beasts hadn't been created when I was locked away in here. My little Lulu sure made a mess of things when she fell, didn't she?"

Twilight felt like Faust's words had plunged her into icy water. Slowly working her mouth until words came out, Twilight said, "Luna? She created the Stellar Beasts?"

"Oh, yes." Faust nodded emphatically, licking her lips a little as her wings began to tease and test the air. "Didn't she tell you? Why do you think the stars hate her so much? All the Stellar Beasts were once stars. Stars she tore down from the night to use as weapons against her sister. The stars turned on her because of it. Draco was once Dsiban. Lulu ripped her from the sky and reformed her as Draco, stealing away everything about her."

"Um, what?" Rainbow's eyes took on a decidedly glazed look as she tried to understand what she was hearing. "But, Twilight said the stars are mares..."

"Technically the stars have no gender, actually," Faust replied, cantering around the patch of light cast by the hole above. "We just refer and think to them as mares because we are a mare dominated society. To the griffons, stars are masculine." Stopping her pacing, her wings almost jittering with anticipation, Faust added, "Are you three coming?"

Without waiting for a response, the Goddess of Fate leapt straight up, her majestic wings stroking the air tenderly, like it was the face of a lover. A laugh, pure and sweet, tickled her throat as she tucked her wings moments before bursting through the hole.

Sighing, Twilight looked to Rainbow, the pegasus smirking as she kicked up into the air and gave chase.

"Come on, Pinkie," Twilight said, fluttering her own wings and waiting for Pinkie to jump onto her back. Still not very comfortable flying, Twilight began to gather herself to follow, then realised it was a rather silly idea. Instead, she used a little of her remaining magic to teleport back to the surface.

* * *

The Bellerophon sat comfortably under trimmed sails, the Lost Island far astern and nothing more than a dull shape against the setting sun.

Captain Hardy stood at the starboard rail. Before him was a short lectern, and upon the lectern a book bound in black leather. A red marker lay across the open pages of the book.

To the captains left stood Princess Twilight and Faust. Both looked a combination of exhausted and bruised, dark welts showing underneath Twilight's coat where Draco had hurled her against the caverns wall. They'd heal quickly she knew, and for the time being she carried the reminders of the battle with something akin to pride. She wasn't truly proud, Twilight didn't revel in battle like some, but she was glad that ponies could see she was capable of protecting herself.

Clearing his throat, Captain Hardy spoke in his strong voice, "It is the duty of a Captain to perform the Rites of Passage. As the sun must set, so too must life end. We gather here this evening to commit our dead to the sea, so that their bodies may rejoin the world even as their souls journey ahead to the fields of Elysium. There they shall wait until we too join them. May they know not care nor worry as they bask in Celestia's light, and may they be sheltered beneath her wings in death as they were in life. May we remember them as they were and strive to live up to those memories.

"Let their names be recorded, so that none will forget the sacrifice they made so that all ponies may know peace.

"Precious Smile, Marine.

"Little Seaweed, Able Seamare.

"Big Seaweed, Able Seamare.

"Sounding Trumpet, Marine.

"Wayward Star, Boson's Mate.

"Stalwart Wall, Private of the Royal Guard.

"Fleeting Swirl, Marine.

"Polished Armour, Captain of the Marines.

"Forgive them, Celestia, for their transgressions in life, as we forgive those who transgress against us, and ask those that we have transgressed against forgive us in turn. Bring the sun and the day, and let us eat our bread in peace and harmony. Amen."

"Amen," chorused five hundred voices, Twilight's among them. Only Faust remained silent, staring intently at Fleur with narrowed eyes.

Chapter Seventeen: The Prince and the Pirate

Myths and Birthrights

By Tundara

Part Three: Ghosts of the North

Chapter Seventeen: The Prince and the Pirate

The tenth of June dawned much the same as the previous day, and the day before that, with only one minor variation. The sails were filled to capacity, with a strong wind out of the south by south-west striking the Bellerophon just three points off her stern. The Bellerophon was naturally a tower of white, every stitch of canvas the masts could bear having been aloft for days on end with nary a change as they raced to make up lost time. Smiles abounded, the ship happy once more despite concerns for the princess tucked into her cot below.

Anxious faces peered through the skylight every chance they got, attempting to see Twilight as she recovered. Word had spread through the ship about her display before Twilight had finished granting the seventh wish. Panic and worry had gripped the crew like a chill vice, Old Place almost inadvertently inciting a mutiny when she cried out that the Jonah had gotten the princess.

In a flash, Captain Hardy restored order with a single bellow of his great lungs. Explanations had followed rapidly. No, the princess hadn’t been struck down. Yes, she had performed magic. No, it wasn’t being stolen from her. She was granting wishes and doing her duty, as every mare and stallion aboard should very well mind and return to theirs. Rest, and the prayers of the ship would see her set right.

So the crew had set into the routine that had remained until the present.

Faust was already on deck, comfortably resting on her cushions, when Twilight staggered out of the great cabin. Bleary of eye and tangled of mane, the princess glanced up at the twinkling jewels high above, a line of gold in the east hugging the rim, and began to set her stars a full half-hour early with a great big yawn. Muttering the names of the officers she passed, Twilight made her way aft to where Faust smugly watched her niece.

“Feeling better?” Faust asked as she offered Twilight some tea and buttered bread.

“I feel like Canterlot fell on my head,” grumbled Twilight, taking the offered cup and sniffing the spicy fragrance.

“Yes, that will happen when you drain all your magic.” Faust gave a sage nod, a mischievous twinkle in the corner of one eye. “Do you want to talk about it? My little Lulu always had trouble sorting things out after granting one wish, and you did seven.”

“Seven... wishes?” Twilight stared into her tea, toast hovering a few inches from her mouth. Around another yawn she admitted, “I... don’t know...”

Twilight tried to think about the last thing she remembered, but stopped as the pain between her ears stabbed deeper and blossomed into her horn. Grunting, Twilight began to rub her temples trying to sooth the thrumming in her head.

“Don’t try to force it,” Faust admonished as she waved the steward over and ordered him to go down to the doctor’s cabin and retrieve Timely from whatever he was doing. “He’s probably dissecting a fish or albatross or doing something equally vile,” she grumbled under her breath as the steward vanished.

“Who?” Twilight asked as she finally took a bite of her toast, the crunch of her teeth on the bread sending a storm of a thousand needles deep into her brain. Biting her tongue to prevent herself from cursing, Twilight set the toast down and instead concentrated on her tea, downing it in a single gulp. When the scalding hot tea touched her tongue and throat, no such measures were effective. Her senses assaulted on all fronts, Twilight gave out the most vile swear she’d ever uttered, one so maleficent that nearby sailors blushed.

Had she not been erecting several mental blocks to sequester the pain, Twilight would have scurried to her cabin, a blush bright enough to light a moonless night on her cheeks. But she was preoccupied, her mood was beyond foul, and at that moment the doctor stepped onto the deck.

Before Timely could inquire about the request for his presence, a bosun’s mate stepped up to his side and whispered, “Beggin’ your pardon, Doctor, but be mighty careful about the Princess. She’s in a right tartan mood.”

‘She does look rather out of sorts,’ Timely thought to himself, thanking Bouncing Billy for the word of caution before stepping aft. “Good morning, your majesties,” he said in a soft voice, “You requested my presence.”

“There you are,” Faust gave a curt nod to the doctor. “My niece is in considerable pain from Aether Drain. Give her some of that wonderful Laudanum tonic.”

A deep, righteous scowl found a home on Timely’s face as he ignored Faust and went to Twilight. With a few words he got Twilight to sit still while he examined her properly; looking in her eyes, feeling the glands in the throat responsible for converting the energy generated by the heart into available aether to be stored in the horn. He refrained from using any scanning spell to help with a diagnosis, though such spells were hardly required.

“How full are your reserves would you estimate, Princess?” he asked part-way through the routine motions. If Timely had a bit for every time he had a patient suffering from magic exhaustion he could buy a respectable estate and retire. It was all too common for the unicorns in the crew to work themselves until they collapsed upon the deck, especially in foul weather.

“About one one hundredth of its maximum capacity, or a little under one point twenty-one giga-swirls of stored aether.”

“One point twenty-one giga-swirls!?” Timely gaped, quickly recovering his composure with a simple word, “Alicorns.”

From where she sat, Faust smirked. “I chose the Element of Magic well, I think.”

“And that is but a mere fraction of your full potential.” Timely shook his head, adding, “Celestia, I never could have imaged such a thing before. Now...” He clicked his tongue, shook his head a couple more times for good measure, and then returned to the task at hoof. “Now, as you know Princess, there is nothing I can do to help with this headache. There aren’t enough aether-potions in Canterlot to fill such an immense pool. No, ‘pool’ does not do your reserves justice. You truly are like the oceans; boundless and endless in scope. For the pain, all I can suggest is rest to help you replenish aether faster.”

“What, you aren’t going to give her some of those tinctures you keep plying upon me?”

Timely gave Faust a sour glance as he said, “Nay, madam, I will not. There isn’t a herb, balm, or pill that will touch an Aether Drain induced headache. Unless you count the aforementioned potions. But they simply serve the same function as sleep. No, what I have within my medicine chest would be like a mouse bite to an elder wyrm. Time and rest, time and rest, they are the only solution here.”

Twilight nodded very slowly, the motion so slight it was almost indistinguishable. She had already known what the doctor was saying. Early in her apprenticeship Twilight had been asked by Celestia to attempt to drain her reserves by simply releasing her magic in a controlled fashion. Her horn had blazed tall and bright, a pillar of eldritch energy, for what seemed like ages before Twilight had collapsed of exhaustion.

The doctor was wrong about one thing though, rest wasn’t Twilight’s only recourse. With practiced finality, she finished the partitions; the pain, and a few other sensory functions, on one side, her higher brain activity on the other. It wasn’t a permanent solution, but it would last long enough for the headache to fade naturally.

Unless something happened to overwhelm the mental blocks.

Like Celestia teleporting onto the ship in a bright flash and whip-crack of magic.

A sharp yelp burst from Twilight as the light stabbed deep into her eyes, blistering the temporary partition of her mind. The partition held, if only just, keeping at bay a greater flood of pain.

“Princess!” the crew cried.

“Celly?” Faust gasped.

“Ow!” Twilight shouted.

The crew reacted in a far less orderly manner, hooves stamping on the deck as sailors rushed about and officers bellowed for calm. More than a few prayed to Celestia, Faust, and especially Twilight. Order was only restored by a throaty roar of ‘Enough!’ Around the irate captain, ponies stood frozen, staring in wide eyed wonder between him and Princess Celestia as she touched down upon the poop deck.

“My apologies, Captain, for arriving so dramatically,” Celestia said. She gave Hardy a polite nod as he hurried aft. He swept his hat from his head as he skidded into a bow. “Events at home have required that I speak with my cousin, in private.”

“Understood, your majesty,” Hardy swept his hat back onto his head and made to return to the quarter deck.

“Oh, and please send for Lady dis Lis, Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie, Captain,” Celestia added.

“I’ll have it seen to right away,” he replied, turning to a fidgeting Fighting Spirit. “Spirit, have the ambassador and the princess' guests brought to Their Majesties. Also, if there is any of this nonsense about checking stays or looking for the cat, I’ll have the pony’s name.”

“Yes, sir,” Fighting Spirit snapped a crisp salute, hurrying off to perform the captain’s orders.

“Last commission I accept to ferry one of the princesses,” Hardy grumbled to himself as he returned to his pacing. “Far too many oddities for my taste. Trouble hangs over them like a cloud. Hmph.”

“So,” Celestia said as Hardy left and she turned to face Twilight and Faust. “How have you been, mother? Healing well, I hope?”

“Why yes, actually,” Faust bobbed her head. “A pleasant voyage by sea is just what the doctor ordered.” —Timely ‘harrumphed’— “It’s…. nice to see you, Celly.”

Letting out a sigh, Celestia gave her mane a shake. “Mother, what am I to do with you? If things weren’t on the precipice of chaos… We’ll have to have a long talk... later,” Celestia’s voice trailed off as she shook her head again, and fixed her eyes on Twilight. “But I came to speak with Twilight.”

Twilight’s eyes shrunk to pin-pricks as her mind tried to figure out why Celestia would teleport a quarter of the way across the disc to speak with her, only for it to run head-first into a wall of agony. Grunting, Twilight brought a hoof up to her throbbing temple.

“Here, let me help you with that,” Celestia smiled, lowering her horn to Twilight.

Hesitating, Twilight knew what Celestia was offering; some of her magic. She hesitated, breath catching in her throat at the sight of Celestia’s long, graceful horn so close to her. Unicorns, and by extension alicorns, could share their magic, but it was only done among those exceedingly close to each other. The trust required was absolute, as the receiving pony could take more than the other could give. Gulping down a lump in her throat at the offer, and spurred on by an especially sharp stab of pain, Twilight touched her horn to Celestia’s.

Fire. Celestia’s magic felt like she had jumped into a pit of fire. A swirling, boiling, angry inferno that seared even as it soothed.

The exchange was brief, just long enough that Twilight didn’t feel like Applejack had mistaken her head for an especially apple-laden tree. Both Celestia and Twilight breathed a little heavier as they broke the contact.

“Wow, that was… Thank you,” Twilight mumbled, her cheeks burning with an intense blush as she noticed Rainbow and Pinkie accompanying Fleur to the stern.

“It was nothing,” Celestia brushed off the exchange, a very faint smirk touching her lips.

“Ahhh, melnesse,” Faust cooed.

“Mother!” Celestia snapped, a blush of her own creeping onto her cheeks. “It is nothing like that, and you know it.”

“You’ll excuse me if I don’t fully believe you, and begin looking through some, what are they called… bridal magazines. Yes, those!”

Celestia ignored her mother, while Twilight blushed hot enough to melt stone, using a wing to hide her glowing cheeks.

“So, princess, what did you want to talk to me about?” Twilight asked when she no longer felt like a rock left in a fire. “It has something to do with the wishes, I’m guessing.”

“It does, yes.” Celestia gave a little nod. She signalled with a wing for Fleur, Rainbow and Pinkie to sit as the trio approached. Fleur carried a perplexed expression, while Rainbow rubbed sleep from her eyes. Pinkie was Pinkie, bouncing along with a wide grin and shining eyes. Celestia waited until they had found comfortable places, knowing that the news she was about to share would be hard to learn.

“Rarity has gone missing.”

“What? Missing?” Rainbow snapped, her wings extending and tail thrashing twice.

“Missing?” Pinkie cocked her head, big blue eyes blinking rapidly. “Is that what the tapping tail, pinchy nose, itchy back, and wiggling withers meant?” This was said more to herself as Pinkie began to rub her chin.

Twilight remained silent; her thoughts having stopped in mid-step.

“From what we’ve been able to deduce, she was being controlled by Serene at the time your star fell and the wishes began. Afterwards, she vanished. We’ve been unable to locate any trace of her.”

Twilight’s eyes shrank to pin-pricks again as the information sank deeper.

She’d sent Rarity, her best friend, to Gaea, with its monsters and beings terrible enough to force her counter-part to rip the veil between worlds to save her herd. A world, if Fleur’s dream journal was to be believed, that existed in an almost perpetual state of war and misery, where a pony’s life was practically worthless. She, Twilight, had sent Rarity there!

There was no question in Twilight’s mind as to what had transpired; she could recall the wish with absolute clarity now that her migraine was gone.

At once Twilight started to hyperventilate, her heart deciding to reside somewhere in her throat while also beating fast enough that her entire body shook.

Calming Twilight took the better part of an hour. The moment she started to settle, she thought again of Rarity and the process began to repeat itself.

“I… have a confession,” Fleur spoke softly as Twilight’s anxiety finally passed. “I have known for some time about Rarity and Serene.”

Twilight spun to Fleur, her mouth hanging open in abject shock. “You knew? You knew of this and didn’t tell us? Why?”

The Bellerophon trembled at the anger lacing Twilight’s voice, a livid fire burning in her eyes. Along the edges her mane began to lighten to a pinkish-orange, Twilight’s coat whitening as the air around her began to distort, like a mirage in the desert. Iris and pupil began to fade into a solid, bloody-red disc as Twilight took a slow step forward.

In the face of the princess’ rage, Fleur stood her ground.

“Because you could not help I, and she begged me to promise not to tell anypony.”

“Niece, calm yourself!” Faust snapped, rising to her unsteady hooves.

It was one of Celestia’s hooves pressing on her withers that broke through Twilight’s rage. “What’s done is done, Twilight,” Celestia said, bending low to extend a wing over her cousin’s trembling form.

“Yeah. Besides, if Rarity made Fleur promise not to tell anypony, what was she to do?” Pinkie asked in a chirpy voice.

“But… If we had known… Then I wouldn’t have… I wouldn’t have sent her ‘home’,” Twilight snapped, frustration building. “I sent her home, Pinkie. Or rather, this Serene. And that means Rarity is…”

Twilight’s voice broke into a wet, guilty sob, one that was muffled as Pinkie wrapped her in a deep hug.

“It’s going to be okay, Twilight,” Pinkie said, stroking Twilight’s mane.

“How can you know that?” Twilight asked, pulling away enough to look Pinkie in the eye.

What she saw was confidence and hope. A shining, twinkling beacon of hope.

“I just do. It could be a long, long, long, long, loooooooo…” Pinkie paused to inhale a gulp of air. “Oooong time, but I just know that we’ll see Rarity again. All of us. So it can’t be that long. Not long like how long you’ll live long, but still, pretty long.”

Pinkie ended with one of her typical massive grins. Sniffling a little, Twilight returned it with a much weaker smile.

“How is it you always know just how to cheer ponies up?”

“It’s a talent, silly.” Pinkie gave a nonchalant wave of her hoof.

Another set of hooves wrapped themselves around Twilight, and when she looked she saw Rainbow had joined her and Pinkie. The normally fearless pegasus had a haunted look etched onto her face, the beginning of tears coiling beneath her eyes. Rainbow said nothing, just pressed her head between her friends’. Eventually, she said in an unusually quiet voice, “I hope you’re right, Pinks.”

“Of course I am,” Pinkie said around a lopsided smile, her eyes sparkling like Twilight’s mane.

The three friends remained entangled in the hug for a few minutes more, taking comfort in the presence of the others. Eventually the hug was broken, Rainbow trying to hide her face as she scrubbed away her tears.

Turning back to Celestia, Twilight asked, “Do you want me to come back to Canterlot, then?”

“No,” Celestia replied. “I don’t think that would be the best idea. You need to do what you’re doing, and that is appearing normal and relatable. The other nations need to be calmed.”

“That’s a flimsy excuse, and you know it, princess,” Twilight pouted, rocking back onto her haunches to cross her forehooves. “That’s not as important as saving one of my best friends!”

“There are more immediate concerns than Rarity. She will have to fend for herself for now.” Sadness danced with regret across Celestia’s eyes. “This ‘Mr. Thunderbolt—”

“Zeus, dear,” Faust spoke up.

“—Zeus, is a far more pressing problem. He flattened a mountain, Twilight, trying to destroy mother.” Celestia paused so her words would sink in. “Worse, he isn’t alone.”

“I could help, if you’d let me.” Twilight protested, desperation edging her words.

“You are, Twilight, you are.” Celestia soothed. “You’re helping by making sure I don’t have to worry about you with a pair of angry alicorns about. Over the years you’ve faced many foes and challenges, but not like this. The closest would be Nightmare Moon. Discord was more a prankster, and while he is malicious, he’s not prone to violence. The changeling invasion was dangerous, yes, but Chrysalis was after food and slaves, not senseless slaughter. But when all these threats arrived, I knew you and Luna would pass through unscathed, because…”

Celestia prompted Twilight to finish her thought, which Twilight did begrudgingly.

“Because my first act as the Alicorn of the Stars and Wishes was to drag Luna back through time creating a stable time loop that couldn’t be broken,” Twilight grumbled.(1)

“Mm Hmm. These two alicorns, however, have shown they will not hesitate to use excessive force, and with your training incomplete… No, I want you here, where you are safe. If Cadence and Tyr weren’t traveling to the Crystal City in the next few days, I would order them from Canterlot. If it wouldn’t cause a panic among our little ponies, I’d have the whole city evacuated. Furthermore,” Celestia turned to address Faust, “Mother, I request you teach Twilight the Old Ways. She needs to learn how to defend herself, more than ever.”

Faust shrugged. “I was already planning on teaching her.”

Twilight sat, a little stunned, glance between Celestia and Faust. Two things circled in her mind; Celestia was far more afraid than she was letting on, and new magic! Filing the latter away for future celebration, Twilight worried for Celestia, and all of Canterlot.

“Now, is there any news or information you wish to share before I leave?” Celestia gave her mother a pointed look, one that yelled, ‘I know you know more than you let on, so spill it.’

“I’m pregnant.” Rainbow said, her normally boisterous and full voice cracking. As Celestia’s head whipped around, eyes widening almost imperceptibly, Rainbow continued, “With one of ‘them’. The alicorn, ghost, spirit, things.”

“I was unaware that was possible,” Celestia admitted, a slight frown wrinkling her forehead.

“Yeah, well, it is. Same thing has happened to AJ, too,” Rainbow snarled, her wings tensing.

Celestia sat still as a statue as she digested the information. Twilight watched, concern churning through her belly, as Celestia’s eyes flickered a couple times, almost like she was reading something, before the motherly half-smile she often wore took its customary place.

“Then that accounts for all but one of the alicorns.”

“Princess?” Twilight tilted her head.

“How do you know that?” Rainbow asked, one ear drooping.

“From Fluttershy, or rather, Artemis. Like Fleur, Fluttershy was host to the shade of an alicorn. Unlike Athena and Serene, Artemis was genuinely remorseful for her actions taking Fluttershy as a host. She shared freely as much information as she could about who was brought to our world by Astraea before departing and transferring all her power to Fluttershy.”

“So, I get to be pregnant, and ‘Shy and… her,” Rainbow jabbed a hoof at Fleur, “get to become an all-powerful Goddess?” Rainbow snorted. “How is that fair?”

“You get to be the mom of a goddess, Dashie, that is pretty cool.” Pinkie pointed out, reaching over to give her friend a big hug.

“I don’t want to be a mom, Pinks!” Rainbow brushed Pinkie’s hooves off and stormed off the poop deck and down into the cabins.

“But… being a mom is great. You get to change diapers, and see them walk for the first time. And… and… being a mom is great!” Pinkie called after Rainbow, her mane drooping a little.

“Let her go,” Fleur said to Pinkie as the latter started to follow her friend. “She doesn’t understand what we face.”

“I know,” Pinkie mumbled, her mane drooping a bit more, only to sproing back to life a moment later accompanied by a sharp gasp. “If every other pony has had a ghostly spookarific alicorn visit them, except me, and one more is out there…” Pinkie gave a little, happy giggle, clapping her hooves together.

“I know what you are thinking, Pinkie, but if she hasn’t come to you yet, it is unlikely that the last shade will be ‘visiting’ you anytime soon,” Celestia said, making her way to the railing, wings extending a little in preparation of flight.

“Awww, why am I the one left out?” Pinkie huffed.

“It is probably a good thing,” Twilight said, her thoughts having wandered to Fluttershy, and how her friend had to be dealing with being an alicorn. Fluttershy had to be so afraid and confused, Twilight figured. She wanted to teleport back to Ponyville and wrap her friend up in the biggest hug and tell her that everything would be okay.

Jumping over the back railing, wings catching the breeze with ease, Celestia gave Twilight one final look, saying, “You know how to contact me if there is need,” and then she was gone in a flash of golden magic.

No sooner had Celestia teleported than Twilight turned to Faust. She needed a distraction and to feel like she was doing something, and Twilight knew exactly what to use.

“Right, if we’re going to have a study session, we’re going to do this properly,” Twilight declared, a too-wide grin on her face and magic sparking from her horn.

The sparks coalesced and with a faint ‘pop’ hardly audible over the creaking of the ship, a large chalkboard and easel appeared, along with chalk, rulers, and other assorted implements.

Fleur gaped at the summoned objects, asking in a weak voice, “H-How did you conjure them so fast, mon amie?”

“I keep everything I need for studying in an easy to access pocket dimension,” Twilight casually replied, concentrating on creating a series of blocks on the board.

“But… the energy required to maintain such a spell…” Fleur trailed off, giving her head a little shake.

“It isn’t all that much. I mean, most of the magic required comes from creating the pocket in the first place, after that it’s just remembering the key, and that doesn’t take any energy at all,” Twilight replied as she finished the grid and began filling in times and activities. A few moments more and she’d completed her lesson timetable. “There!” She triumphantly exclaimed with a little squeal of delight. “Now I’m ready for you to teach me new spells, Aunt Faust.”

Faust turned away from Twilight to hide a private smile.

“There is little I need to teach you, Twilight,” she said at length. “You know most of what you need already.”

“Wait, what? But Celestia asked you to teach me the Old Ways. Also, teaching schedule!”

Twilight waved her hooves at the chalkboard, drawing a giggle from Pinkie. More so once the easel began to sliding across the rolling deck towards the railing. With a shuddering lurch, the Bellerophon sent chalkboard and easel over the railing, the pair landing with a ‘splat’ before drifting away to the sounds of Pinkie laughing as loudly as possible while she rolled onto her back, hooves kicking in the air.

Faust gave a smirk. “Yes. But the Old Ways are not normal spell formula. Besides, you already know practically every standard matrix that has ever existed.”

“S-She does?” Fleur gaped, taking a step back.

“No I don’t!” Twilight protested, a firm frown on her face.

“Sure you do. The stars know them, and you are the stars.” Faust’s smirk grew into a gentle smile. “You as an alicorn may not have yet been born, but part of you still watched the world. Many stars gazed down and guided wizards and sages as they explored the boundaries of magic. The Sage Star, Wizard Star, and War Star are all good ones to ask, depending on what spells you wish to access.” Twilight stared dumbfounded, along with Fleur. “Surely you had begun to wonder why, if your ‘special talent’ was the Stars and not Magic how you ‘learned’ new spells so quickly?”

“I... no, to be honest, I didn’t.” Twilight blushed and scoffed an embarrassed hoof.

“Really now?” Faust’s tone carried a distinct note of disappointment, making Twilight’s face and ears burn brighter. “Well, regardless, knowing a formula is only so useful. You still need to be able to use it effectively. Brute force is far more important than finesse if you encounter an alicorn who wishes to destroy you.” Faust gestured to the few remaining bandages around her barrel and legs. “I wish little Celly had taught you more about self-defence.”

“So, there aren’t any spells you can teach me?”

“There are a few I can teach you, such as the other five activation spells for the Elements of Harmony. You already know Laughter’s spell.” Glancing to the deck, Faust added, “I’ll teach you Loyalty’s in a bit. But the activation spells are just that; triggers to use specific aspects of my domain. It doesn’t really relate to what I need to teach you. Both of you.” Faust gave Fleur a significant look.

“You wish to teach moi?” Fleur took another step back, bumping against the railing. “I-I, but, why?”

“Because either you will overcome Athena, or you won’t, and nothing is lost either way.” Fleur grew quiet as Faust chuckled, then added, “I also believe that you have a role to play in what is to come. I can not fully see it, and I don’t know if it is even you, but when I look at the way the Weave is changing… Teaching you the Old Ways feels like the right action.”

“Okay, then what, exactly, are the ‘Old Ways’?” Twilight asked, wanting to get to the magic lessons as quickly as possible.

Smiling like a fox, Faust waved Twilight closer.

“Infusing your will upon the disc.”

Seeing Twilight give her a perplexed stare, Faust sighed before explaining.

“We’re goddesses, Twilight, and all of us are exceptionally powerful in our own rights. Imagine if you got into a fight, a real fight, with a being your equal in magic?” Twilight shuddered. “Exactly. Most spells are useless in such a fight regardless. Even the most resilient matrices simply can’t handle the amount of aether we can infuse into them, overloading the spell and causing a rather spectacular fizzle. Which is why Celly made Coronal Edge, which she supports with evocations. The spell matrices that are useful in such a fight are tied into our Domains. You’ll be able to hold those matrices together while pushing far more aether through them than they’d normally be able to contain. These are spells you have to discover, but I can set you down the path.

“So... Wait… We’re missing something…” Faust brought a hoof up to her chin. “Oh, I know! Pinkie, dear, you can start now.”

A little squee rippled across the deck, Twilight and Fleur turning to see Pinkie and Timely next to the far railing, a fiddle and cello in their hooves respectively. Nodding to each other, Timely began to pluck the cords of his instrument, creating a sound like raindrops falling into water. A moment later Pinkie put her bow to her fiddle, and the pair were off, creating a gentle cushion of music that surrounded the ship.

“You know about modern casting. How to make a matrix using runes, weaving them together and then filling them with aether. While excellent for doing very specific tasks, these matrices are more fragile than using the Old Ways.” Faust explained, slowly moving to the aft railing. “In the Old Ways, we use only the rune. There is no finesse involved, practically no crafting, simply the Rune and Power.”

Lowering her head to the Bellerophon’s wake, Faust brought a moderate amount of magic to the tip of her horn, wincing as a little snap of sparking aether flickered from the crack caused by her fight. Twilight saw a ruby circle with what looked to be a ‘less than’ math sign inside appear for a brief moment. It existed for less than half a blink, and then a thin stream of ruby flames shot from Faust’s horn into the ocean. Water instantly boiled, rising in a hissing steam around the magic flames.

Ending the spell, Faust turned back to her students, a proud smile touching her lips, though it was interrupted as her horn sparked again and she winced.

“That is ‘Kano’, a rune of Fire.”

Twilight was practically jittering with excitement as she looked from the ship’s wake, to her aunt, back to the wake, and then to her aunt again.

“This… this is amazing!” She gushed, turning to Fleur. A wide grin had found a home on Twilight’s face as she began to speak in a rapid-fire manner that even Pinkie had some trouble following. “Pure Rune magic! The professors always told us not to use pure rune magic as the aether costs are so exorbitant, and the spells so basic. I mean, that little flame probably used up a good three or four kiloswirls of energy! But that’s practically nothing for us! I mean, a megaswirl is small bits, so just imagine how much power we could put into such a spell! For regular unicorns that would be impossible, which is why all the really ancient spells were cast by cabals of unicorns. They needed to work in tandem because they didn’t have access to the amounts of aether needed alone.”

Twilight’s eyes grew wider and wider as she spoke. Her ears snapped fully upright, and in a jubilant giggle she spun to address Faust.

“This is really old spellcraft. Really, really old. Before the First Reformation even, and nopony knows when that happened!”

“Yes, the Old Ways predates the First Reformations,” Faust smirked. “The Reformations came about because of Lensing and—”

“Are you going to teach us Lensing?” Twilight clasped her hooves together.

“Lensing?” Fleur asked as she edged a little away from Twilight.

“Lensing is believed to have lead to the Second Reformations of magic back in the ancient era, around two thousand B.E. Our modern matrices are based on Lensing, but instead of binding the runes together, in lensing, one spell goes into the next rune, altering its properties, but drawing on even more aether. Which is unsustainable for a lone caster, and even a trained cabal would have difficulties and why matrices eventually came about, because they are so much more efficient and precise, though trickier. You can’t just put any two runes together to make a matrix, after all. But that isn’t a problem normally because of cutie marks and how unicorns instinctually learn new matrices thematically similar to their marks! Additionally, a matrix can be used to make a Glyph, like the ones that are throughout the Bellerophon, and Canterlot Castle. Another advantage of matrices is that they can last after aether is being applied, which gives us Enchantments. Oh, this is so exciting!”

“Yes,” Faust bit back a giggle. “Lensing is part of the Old Ways. But please, some patience. There is a lot to cover.”

Twilight bounced into the air with a whoop of joy.

And the Bellerophon sailed on, a mostly happy ship.

* * *

A warm breeze, filled with bugs the size of hummingbirds and the hot breath of summer, filtered through the towering trees of the Taiga. The insects were the only signs of life within the forest. Not a bird chirped, not a wolf hunted, and not a squirrel foraged. All was silent, if not for the buzz of wings and the rustle of leaves.

Death had come to the Taiga, and not for the first time.

The air grew heavy with decay towards the north, a foul, putrid stench cloying in the noses of the few Halla brave enough to enter the cursed section of the elder forest. A sickness was spreading, one thought defeated many years before. Even the terrible vargr —dire wolves spawned from the darkest nightmares— avoided the silent woods, the packs moving south and prowling outside the homesteads and six vales, stealing the unwary that ventured beyond the towns’ walls.

Only one explanation could be devised among the Halla elders; the Queen had fallen once more to darkness and despair. They’d failed in the sacred duty, again.

Not all the Halla believed that Iridia had fallen. This was not the first time the Taiga had become shrouded in an evil viel. It had been thirty years since the Spring of Sorrows, when nearly three quarters of the foals had been stillborn, their lives stolen before they could begin by an entity known only as the Blighted One. If it hadn’t been for Iridia, none of the foals would have lived.

It had been the queen’s warning that had been their saving grace, and lead to the rediscovery of the ancient vales containing the first trees. Each housed a different type tree; Cherry, Apple, Fir, Sycamore, Poplar, and Elm.

Since Iridia’s release, these vales had become home to those loyal to her, that looked to her for guidance and leadership even while the elders in the old homesteads sought to imprison her inside a gilded cage. That Iridia had been content in her prison galled the Reformationists.

Fearing this new blight was the Queen’s doing, the elders had called a Great Gathering, summoning all the Halla to Reinalla.

But not all answered the call.

The Bears and Ravens, both lodges predominantly loyal to the queen, had refused the call, as had the herds living in and near the vales.

The Halla, united in purpose their entire history, had become divided. On one side were the Traditionalists. They controlled the old homesteads and were supported by four of the great Lodges —Fox, minstrels and bards; Badger, crafters and tradesworkers; Owl, historians and keepers of traditions; and Eagle, the leaders and guides— used to organise Halla society. The Reformationists formed the other, and were far fewer in numbers, barely a tenth the Halla population. Warriors and Mages respectively, the Bears and Ravens were incensed at what they saw as the blindness infecting the Halla. Wolf Lodge remained above the dispute, seeing to their duty to raise the foals within the créches.

And so, the Traditionalists were the bulk of the Halla, while the Reformationists contained the martial might and magic, creating an uneasy balance.

Having ignored the summons, each vale selected two members, the greatest of their warriors or mages, to find the source of the newest blight, and destroy it.

From Elm Vale came Black Briar and Fallen Nest, both masters of the longbow and axe.

As their champions, Poplar Vale sent masters Broken Blade and Evergreen Rot, their most experienced trackers.

Sycamore Vale chose the mighty Thundering Mountain and Whispering Brook. A great brute, Mountain was the berserker, while the slight Whispering was agile and fast.

Agate Ruse and Jade Eye hailed from Fir Vale. Jack-of-all-trades, they were neither exceptional in any area, nor terrible, mixing defensive magic with traditional Halla battle techniques of charging with their blade covered antlers.

The only battle-mages in the company hailed from Apple Vale. Little Hoof and Split Tongue both eschewed the typical armour and weapons of Bears in favour of robes.

But none of the others were as storied nor renowned as those from Cherry Vale. Bounding Vixen and River Sparkle, the only foals of the Queen’s champions. River was known by another name as well; the White Hind, bearer of winter’s wrath, Llallawynn.

The twelve Halla bounded through the still forest. They didn’t stop to drink or eat, only to rest at night for a few hours before moving onwards. Their destination, so far to the north it was almost at the disc’s edge, was the First Vale, the hiding place of the very first tree to grow upon Ioka; Yggdrasil, the World Tree.

As night claimed the disc, and the stars began to dance, the company took refuge in the burnt remains of an ancient fortress. Taking first watch with her foal-hood friend, Bounding Vixen, River Sparkle watched the stars, a little smile touching her lips.

Stepping up to her side, Vixen offered River a canteen filled with water taken from the magical pools within the hidden vales. A sip of the water was enough to quench any thirst. The water was far from the greatest boon granted by the vales.

“The stars have started dancing again,” Vixen noted as he capped his canteen.

River shrugged, her shoulders rolling beneath her armour.

“Means little to me.”

Vixen was quiet a few moments before speaking again. “Do you think the Eagles truly will reform the Eternal Herd and march on the ponies?”

“How should I know what goes on in their piss soaked heads?”

Chuckling, Vixen smirked at his foal-hood friend through the corner of his eye.

“You spent time being groomed to be an Eagle. You must have some idea.”

Grumbling to herself for a second, River turned to Vixen. “No, Vix, I don’t. They just wanted to mold me into a little tool they could use to bring the ‘misguided’ herds back under their hooves. The Eagles can all rot in Tartarus for all I care.”

“They aren’t all bad—”

“Their time is almost over, Vix. Soon they’ll be nothing but a hoof-note in the Owl’s books alongside the Lion Lodge. Her Majesty will return and cast those pretenders down. They are just afraid of losing their power.”

Before Vixen could form a response, River silenced him with a raised hoof and stern glance.

“You feel that?”

Vixen looked up to the canopy then down to the stone underhoof. The ruined fortress trembled, and through the gaps in the walls, they could see a cluster of flickering, orange lights. They came to the same conclusion.

“Giants!” the pair growled.

“Warn the others,” snarled River, slipping through the night and into the forest.

Her hooves making not a whisper, she found a safe vantage point to observe both the fortress and giants.

They were hulking monstrosities, walking on only two legs like wyrmlings. Their faces were grotesque, misshapen things with bulbous noses and covered in lumpy boils. Relatively tiny eyes peered out beneath eyebrows as large as bushes. Pale, slate grey skin shone beneath patchy hair, each strand as thick as a Halla’s leg.

Hairy knuckles dragged along the ground, occasionally rising to brush a tree aside as if it were a stalk of grass. A few held uprooted trees as clubs, resting the weapons on broad shoulders. The giants wore clothes stitched together from whatever could be scrounged from the forest. River felt her temper rise as she recognised the pelts of Halla, and even a few brighter colours that had to have come from ponies. No other equine race had lime green, purple, or blue coats. Several of the giants wore cobbled together armour, cold forged plates protecting the belly and legs, while flabby, pale chests were left bare.

In the middle of the group of giants were youngsters and children, some no taller than saplings. They laughed and thundered around their parents’ trunk-like legs.

Earth and forest trembled and shook as the giants strode northward.

River counted thirty of the monsters before the final one disappeared deeper into the forest.

“What are mountain giants doing this far north?” Vixen asked, coming out of his hiding place.

“It’s not our concern,” River gave her head a shake before staring at the path of destruction the giants left. “Split, send a warning to any nearby herds. Maybe they can form a hunting party. We need to continue to the tree.”

Waiting only long enough for Split Tongue to summon several ghostly ravens and whisper their instructions, the company set off again. For a week they moved, barely resting, driven relentlessly northward towards the edge of the disc. Along the Skeena river they traveled, using her banks as a road before crossing the Lonely Sisters, three mountains separated by wide valleys and lakes, to enter the region of the Taiga known as the Dead Wood. A vast stretch of burnt hills, the Dead Wood had been home to a forest dragon many years before. The beast was long gone, either slain or having found a new home; the Halla didn’t care which. For two days they were surrounded by the skeletons of trees, and their hooves sunk to the fetlock in ash, before they emerged back into a living forest.

As the ninth dusk shrouded the sky, the forest, silent and still for many leagues, was filled with a dreadful noise. The trees were whispering. Branches moved of their own accord, entangling themselves into a thorny fence.

“The Taiga herself is rejecting our presence,” Evergreen hissed, her eyes darting from shadow to shadow.

“Not the forest,” River corrected. “There is something else here.”

Slowing to a trot, the company readied their weapons and spells, eyes fixed with a hard gleam.

Clouds hid the moon, throwing the Taiga into absolute darkness. A darkness only broken by the flicker of magic along Halla horns. Mountain snorted, his breath a dancing white cloud illuminated by his magic. Fallen’s bow was taught, her axe hovering at her side.

“This darkness is not natural,” Hoof whispered, the mage turning in a tight circle to peer back along the path they had come.

At the head of the company, Broken came to a sharp stop, her heart leaping into her throat. There, so close she could smell the stench of decay on his breath, was a vargr. Hopping backwards, Broken hurled a dagger, the blade gleaming silver, green, and blue.

“Vargr!” She shouted, readying a second and third dagger as her first found the beasts throat and sunk to the hilt in his flesh.

Expecting an ambush, the company closed ranks. No dire wolves leapt from the night, and no sounds or movement came from the one struck. The reason was revealed as the clouds parted and Selene’s light shone upon a ghastly scene.

On all sides of the company were vargr —all dead. Their twisted bodies held in the limbs of trees, legs snapped and necks wretched into impossible shapes. Unseeing eyes bulged from the vargr’s sockets, their limp tongues hanging from their mouths. The stench of decay, as if waiting for the scene to be revealed, washed over the halla in a putrid wave.

“By Iridia’s mane,” Jade and Briar said at the same time, lowering their weapons. “What did this to them?”

“There are tracks here,” Evergreen stated, having moved closer to the dead vargr. “Halla tracks… Four individuals… A hind and three younglings.” Evergreen turned this way and that, narrowed eyes peering into the murk, her ears scanning for the slightest sound. “This way,” she stated, taking the lead.

A few yards away they found the remains of the hind.

“May the Queen guide you to a better life, small mother,” River whispered as the company passed.

Crying drew them away from the body and to a small row of thorny bushes. A rustle from within made the company halt, and again raise their weapons. Held high in a gentle white aura, River’s blade, Llallawynn, began to glow a ghostly silver. She licked her lips, a nod telling the other to spread out and encircle the bushes. A second nod sent the company forward, pouncing on the bushes, ripping them out and dragging into the moonlight what lay within.

Foals, screaming in fear, tumbled down in front of River.

Sighing in relief or chuckling away tension, the company finally sheathing blade or extinguishing magic. Only River stayed on edge, her eyes turning from the foals to the surrounding woods.

“Look at us,” Mountain rumbled, his large chest heaving with laughter. “Afraid of three small fries. There there, tiny-ones, nothing can harm you now.”

“Mountain, be silent,” River hissed, turning, looking, waiting. There was something else in the forest. The trees still whispered, their voices growing shrill and fearful. Not glancing at the foals, River said, “Younglings, where is your herd?”

Sniffling and trembling, the three foals just stared up at her with blank eyes.

“They are traumatized,” Fallen snorted, “we’ll get nothing from them.”

“What do we do?” Split asked, clicking her tongue as she gazed down on the foals in sympathy.

“We can not spare the time to find their herd, assuming what found the vargr didn’t find them.” Briar pointed out.

Snorting, Mountain thrust his face into Briar’s, forcing the far smaller halla back. “You would propose we abandon foals? Pitiful! What kind of Bear are you?”

“Three younglings… alone… with only one guardian? And she’s not even a Wolf?” Briar shook his head. “Their herd is gone.”

“But to abandon them?” Evergreen snarled, crossing the distance between her and Briar, joining Mountain in leering at the archer.

In a low, distant voice, one of the foals spoke. “She said she’d protect us… protect us from the monsters…”

“She did, younglings, she protected you.” Vixen stepped between the foals and the dead hind. “Whatever she—”

“We are not alone…” River hissed, interrupting Vixen.

The sound of great wings flapping broke the silence. A shadow, darker than the night, sped across the company. Through the trees, River caught sight of a great, glowing eye and teeth like swords.

“Dragon…” She said in a breathless voice, then louder, “Dragon!”

Wood shattered and the earth trembled as the great beast landed. A head, large as a wagon and darker than the night surrounding it, lifted above the Halla, a fiery rumble filling their ears. Without sharing words, the company formed a line, their eyes hard as flint and hearts filled with determination. Behind them, the foals clutched each other tight, their cries filling the night.

“You are brave,” the dragon laughed, his voice terrible as the crack of thunder. “Brave to stand before Draco, the Star Dragon!”

He unfurled his wings, stars and nebula flickering across his scales. River noticed a barely healed wound on the dragon’s chest, one that spilled little tendrils of starlight. Still laughing, Draco took a seat, bringing his talons to his chin in thought.

“What brings you so close to the Edge?”

Licking her lips, River took a step toward the beast. “My Lord,” she began, her voice without the tremor of fear. “We are investigating the sickness that has infected the Taiga.”

“What chance, so am I.” Draco turned his head this way and that, chuffing the air over his forked tongue. “I was on my way home after meeting your Princess—”

“The Halla have no Princess,” Mountain interjected with a snort.

Draco gave the Halla a withering glare. “It is rude to interrupt another. Also, you are wrong. Don’t tell me you haven’t heard of Twilight Sparkle, Princess of the Taiga, and Goddess of the Stars?”

River stood straighter at the name, her mouth forming a hard line. A few of the other Halla cast quick glances her way. Draco either didn’t notice or care.

“We have not,” Ruse replied slowly, obviously mulling over the new information.

Rolling his colossal shoulders, Draco gave a deep huff.

“Doesn’t matter, I suppose.” Chuffing the air again, Draco frowned. “She is half-way across the disc… Which makes this all the more curious.”

“What is, my Lord?” River asked, shaking off the shock of the princess’ name.

“This magic filling the forest… it is… familiar…” Draco’s lips pulled back into a snarl. “But it cannot be. Twilight passed the test…”

River’s ears flicked from the dragon to the woods, and the whispering. It was growing louder. The foals had ceased their sniveling and sat, staring off to one side, glassy eyes peering past the shadows. Within the gloom something moved, a fog leaking through bramble and branch; a boiling, purple fog.

“Impossible…” Draco whispered, his head whipping back and his wings unfurling as the fog began to take equine shape.

“Protect the little ones…” hissed the fog. It was as the fog’s voice, so cold it was like a thousand winter winds, touched her ear that River realised it hadn’t been the trees whispering. “I must protect them…”

“Take the foals!” Draco roared even as he opened his mouth, black fire erupting around his teeth. Harmless as the caress of a feather, the black fire washed across the shade. “Take them and run!” He repeated as he dove towards fog, all snapping teeth and lashing talons.

“We are Bears, we do not flee!” Mountain yelled, charging the fog, antlers lowered, lips pulled back to reveal his own teeth, so white in the dark. At his side he was joined by the remainder of the company save River.

A howl exploded from the fog, the creature rushing to meet the attack. An inky tendril coiled around Mountain’s neck, lifting him high and flinging through the brush. It slithered past the others before hurling itself upon Draco. The dragon roared in pain and fear as the fog dug at his scales. His tail thrashed back and forth, snapping ancient trees as if they were twigs. Up and up the fog climbed, encircling Draco’s head before flowing down his mouth and nose, into his eyes and ears. All at once, Draco ceased moving, a talon held mid-swipe. The glow left his eyes, then returned, a vile purple light spilling like tears down his muzzle.

Draco convulsed once, twice, then thrice, his mighty feet stamping upon the earth. The convulsions stopped, the fog flowing out of the dragon and hovering in the air before his muzzle. Whispering something in a black tongue, the fog pointed down at the gathered Halla, Draco’s head slowly moving to follow.

“My Lord?” River’s voice was cold as the steel of her blade as she set herself into a protective stance above the three trembling foals.

Drawn to her voice, the fog shot to the ground, impacting in front of River where it rose up, taking equine form.

“They are mine to protect!” the fog spat, advancing on River as Draco fell upon the company in a cascade of stars and talons.

The masters reacted as one, leaping around Draco’s legs and striking him with magic and blade. Racing along his side, Fallen loosed arrow after arrow into Draco’s armoured hide.

“A mother knows best…” continued the fog, ignoring the battle raging behind her. Slowly she began to circle River and the sobbing foals. “I protected them… I did… I sent the bad snarling things away…”

“You killed the vargr? You’re what’s making the forest sick?”

“Sick? No… It’s too dangerous here. Too many bad things that take the foals. I must protect them. I’m a mother, and mothers protect foals.” The fog paused, cocking her head to one side. “You are familiar. Why are you familiar?” The fog lifted its ‘hooves’, placing them on her head as it began to tremble and shake. “You smell like her! You smell like the one who took her away!”

In a whirling rush of magic and spite, the fog lunged at River. Llallawynn lashed out, piercing the fog, sinking deep into its ‘breast’. An inequine shriek tore across River, the fog retreating back into the air, leaking a trail of glittering dust from the wound.

At the same moment, Draco roared, attempting to strike Whispering. The lithe Bear sprang between his talons, sinking twin kukri knives into the joints where talon met paw. Twisting his head around, Draco tracked the Bear as she rejoined her companions. Black fire spilled around his teeth as he filled his fire-sack and readied his most potent weapon.

“Jade! Shield!” Ruse bellowed across the tremendous din.

His friend nodded once, their antlers flashing with magic. A golden dome of energy formed above the company just in time to catch the flames. Sweat pricked the hides of all the Halla as the grass and trees outside the barrier were turned to ash and memories. Snarling in a mad rage, Draco raised a talon. With a great report, like the ringing of a bell, the shield was struck. Cracks formed along its length as Draco slammed his tail upon it next.

Jade let out a cry, falling to her knees. She watched as Draco lifted his tail for a final blow. It was almost the last thing she saw. The shield could not hold, the dragon’s tail shattering it like crystal, and falling towards the exhausted hind. Jade expected her next sight would be the golden fields of Elysium. Instead she felt a blow on her side, flinging her out of the tail’s path. Looking back, she saw only the shattered remains of her savior.

“Briar!” Fallen screamed the name, tears streaming down her eyes as her bow continued its song.

Letting out a throaty warcry, Mountain burst from a bush. In a single motion, he threw aside his armour. Mountain’s scar covered hide bulged as he charged Draco, wrapping his forelegs around the star-dragon’s tail. His hooves sank into the earth as he began to pull Draco backwards.

Lightning crackling from their horns, Split and Hoof drew the dragon’s attention away from the grief-mad hind and beserker. Jumping onto their back hooves, they brought their forehooves down, channeling their magic into the ground as Draco lunged. Mountain dug furrows with his hooves as he continued to hold onto Draco’s tail. A geyser of stone struck Draco upon the chin, shattering into a rain of sharp pebbles. His teeth sunk into Split, lifting the Raven as she let out a wet scream. Rolling his head back, Draco swallowed her whole.

“Fall back!” River ordered, spinning while reaching out to pick up the trembling foals. The trio screamed as they felt her magic shroud them.

Draco’s eye snapped towards the noise, an angry boom working its way from his chest around his tongue. Mouth gaping wide, his head came down, teeth sinking into the soil around the foals.

“No!” River yelled, skidding to a halt as she watched Draco spread his wings and took to the sky, bits of earth falling from his mouth and Mountain dangling from his tail.

Flicking his tail, Draco sent Mountain crashing back to the ground. Screaming louder still, the foals clutched at the dragon’s teeth as if they were prison bars. Circling once, the fog grabbing hold of his horns, Draco flew off to the north.

All at once a sullen silence settled back up the forest.

“What now?” Vixen asked, breathing heavily as he stepped towards River.

“We continue as planned,” River spat. “We will mourn our dead later.”

No time was spent on words for the dead. No graves dug, nor monuments left to give remembrance. They were simply left to feed the forest, as was Bear tradition. Twelve had become ten. The survivors would remember their friends and companions through deed, and ensuring that their deaths would not have been in vain.

* * *

“Baltimare? Where in Tartarus is Baltimare?” Shyara muttered as she twisted and turned the map in her hooves.

The map had proved useless, being as it was older than Shyara and didn’t contain any of the rail lines. Toss in the hundreds of towns, villages, and cities in Equestria, and not only was it useless, it was confusing. All Shyara knew was that she was in a coastal city.

From the train’s window she could see what looked like a forest out on a shining blue bay. Shyara had seen fleets of ships before, Alnyxandria had been home to almost a hundred when she’d visited the burgeoning city. Those ships had been galleys, however. Low, sleek, with only a couple short masts, and hundreds of oars. The ships in the bay were nothing like galleys. Shyara couldn’t see where the oars would go. Their masts were far taller, as were their sides, with an intricate maze of ropes and cords creating a sort of net. Equestrian ships would be impossible for the pegasi soldiers to use as war platforms.

Then again, Equestria didn’t seem to know much about war at all. Shyara felt this was probably a good thing. Still, the mental image of a hundred war-galleys, brimming with pegasi and heroes, descending on the large, anchored things in the harbour made its way through her mind, forcing a little shudder up her back.

Shifting her gaze from the harbour, Shyara took in the city. Red brick houses with tile roofs surrounded the bay. Government and administrative buildings were centered near the quays, while the richer homes were built along the northern side. Baltimare was a little smaller than Vanhoover, but not much.

“Time to get off the train, miss,” the conductor said, his voice at Shyara’s shoulder making the filly jump.

“But, I got a ticket for Canterlot, and this isn’t Canterlot!” Shyara protested, waving her hooves at the window and the harbour city.

“‘Course it ain’t, this is Baltimare,” chuckled the old stallion as he tipped his hat back. “The train to Canterlot is boarding on platform four.” Chuckling again, he helped Shyara with her bags and led her off the train.

The platform was awash in a sea of ponies, all jostling with each other or pushing trolleys covered in baggage. Looking up, Shyara spotted a sign with an odd rising squiggle next to an arrow with the letter 1, 2, and 4 beside it. The ends of the sign had a big 3 painted in white. Following the arrow, Shyara found a set of stairs that lead to a walkway that was perched above the trains. At the top of the walkway, Shyara looked around but couldn’t find anymore signs except one for the platform she’d just come from.

Sighing, Shyara sat down, looking left and right, at a loss as to where to go. All at once, a heavy, overwhelming feeling pressed down on her, dragging down wings and heart, while making her throat clench.

She’d been such a fool, Shyara growled internally. Getting on a train alone with no idea where she was going, or what to do once she got there. All she had was ‘Canterlot’ and ‘Find Celestia and hope she doesn’t smite me’.

Why did she have to be so small? It wasn’t fair! She was a Goddess. She wasn’t supposed to be an almost helpless filly. Power and grace were her right. Scrabbling her hooves over her face, she pushed the feelings back down.

Had she been able to, Shyara would have wept. But the tears of a goddess were shed only for truly important things, and held power. What that power was depended on the goddess who shed them. Shyara wondered what her tears would be capable of doing.

The thought was able to break her out of her anxiety long enough to hear a pony addressing her. Well, Shyara assumed it was her. She didn’t see any other fillies alone on the platform.

“You alright, deary?” a pink mare in a long, red jacket asked. A sea-shell clasp held the jacket closed, frilly lace springing out from collar and cuffs, while a matching hat was perched atop her head. A feather, soft purple in tone, was thrust into the hat’s white trim, complementing her two toned mane and tail of amethyst and violet.

Behind the mare, a burly stallion, his advanced years showing in the slightly hanging jowls of his neck and rolls on his sides, followed her. Through the straw hat he wore shone the light of magic, a light echoed around two trolleys heaped with trunks and a couple travel bags.

“I’m fine,” Shyara lied, putting on her bravest smile. “Just a little lost. You wouldn’t happen to know which way to Platform Four, would you?”

“Sure as sugar I do, deary. We’re headed there ourselves, too.” The mare gave a jolly laugh, then looked around. “But where are your parents or family? You get separated from them?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

The mare waited for Shyara to elaborate, and when she didn’t, shrugged and said, “Well, that ain’t good. Not at all. Fillies shouldn’t travel alone. Ain’t that right, dear?” This last was asked to the stallion, who gave a quick nod and several different agreements. “Why don’t you come with us, deary? We’ll make sure you get to the train, and have you settled in no time. Shake a leg, love, I want everything squared away, shipshape and Bristol fashion by the next bell.”

Shyara hummed for a few moments. She didn’t see why not. The mortals were heading there as well, and there was something about the mare, a presence about her that Shyara had only felt from Trixie since arriving on Ioka. It wasn’t like being near another alicorn, nothing alike at all. It was simply comforting, telling Shyara she had nothing to fear from this pony. This was a mare that could be trusted to keep and protect secrets.

“Okay,” Shyara said as she slung her saddle-bags.

The trio made their way towards the final platform at the station, the mare cutting through the crowd with practiced ease. At the train, the luggage was left with an attendant, while the stallion carried the two travel cases, and a third, long and slender wrapped bundle into the passenger car.

“You have a cabin, right?” The mare asked as they made their way back to the sleeping cars.

“A what?” Shyara answered with confusion.

“You did get a sleeping cabin, didn’t you?” The mare lifted a brow as she looked back.

“I didn’t know I needed to get one.”

“This won’t do,” the stallion grunted from his place at the back of the short line. “It’s three days to Canterlot.”

It was now Shyara’s turn to lift a brow. “I never said I was going to Canterlot.”

“You didn’t need to deary.” The mare stopped and tapped Shyara just before the horn. “The way you carry yourself and hold your chin tells me you are nobility. If you were running away you’d be making your way to the docks to find a captain that would take you on as a midshipmare. No, you’re not running away from something, but to it. You have that look to your eye. A frightened resolve, like you don’t know what you’re going to find, only that you have no other choice. Also, the conductor mentioned your destination when you showed him your ticket.”

“Oh, yeah.” Shyara blushed, her silvery cheeks turning a dark mulberry colour. “So, where are you headed then?” Shyara asked, trailing the mare into her compartment.

“Ponyville, deary.”

Ponyville: the name struck a cord. Trixie had spoken of the town in, well, not bad terms, but not positive either. Dangerous, was how Trixie had described it. Plus, it was where the pretender had been living when she’d ascended. The papers Shyara had read had gone on for weeks about ‘Princess Twilight’. It made Shyara’s temperature rise just thinking of the pretender. Stealing her mother’s stars. It was wrong, and she’d get what was coming to her.

“Don'cha know it’s home to the Elements of Harmony?”

“Yeah.” Shyara had heard a lot about the Elements of Harmony from Trixie, mostly about Twilight ‘Cousin of the Princess and had everything given to her on a golden platter’ Sparkle. Especially whenever the wagon would get stuck or the crowds would be small during the show. Shyara almost commented on the things she’d been told, but a little whisper told her to keep quiet, so she did.

“Yeppers,” the stallion chuckled as he attempted to put the carry-on luggage into overhead compartments, adding Shyara’s to theirs. “Our eldest is one. An Element of Harmony that is.”

“You’re the Sparkles?” Shyara quirked her brow, jumping up onto a bench.

“Ha-ha, oh no, deary,” the mare laughed with her entire body, eyes crinkling in mirth. “We ain’t nobles. Our eldest, however, is a Lady of the Court, which is kind of like being a noble. Oh, tar my fur and toss me over the side tied to a sounding line, we never introduced ourselves, did we?”

At Shyara’s negative shake of her head, the pair introduced themselves.

“Name’s Bonnie Belle, and this is my husband, Magnum.” Magnum hardly gave a sign of acknowledgment as he struggled to get the few bags put away, shoving more and resulting to muttered curses at the obstinate and awkward things. “Here, dear, let me. You never were good at stowing gear.” Bonnie pushed Magnum down onto the other bench, the stallion most certainly not pouting as his wife whipped all the bags out, rearranged them in mid-air, then slotted them perfectly away, the little door closing with a soft ‘click’. Taking a seat on the bench opposite Shyara, Bonnie asked, “What’s your name then, deary?”

“Shy Spell,” Shyara said without hesitation, the name second nature.

“Kinda like Fluttershy, eh, love?” Magnum chuckled and poked Bonnie a couple time in the side with his elbow.

“Sush dear, they ain’t related...” Bonnie began to admonish her husband, then fixed Shyara with a piercing gaze. “Are you?”

“No, I can say with certainty I am not,” Shyara gave a little sigh as her thoughts were inevitably turned to her missing family by the question.

Great-Aunt Aphrodite had asked her about the others, which meant they weren’t on Gaea. Serene had been inside Rarity. What if all the other adults were the same? Bereft of their own bodies, wandering Ioka aimlessly, or stealing the destinies of mortals.

Shyara remembered well the lessons on dying as an alicorn. First off, it wasn’t truly dying, since alicorns could not enter Elysium, and without their physical shell, even Tartarus is inaccessible. Destroying the body of an alicorn wasn’t also necessarily the end of an alicorn. Zeus had been known to ‘kill’ alicorns as punishment. It was rare, but not unusual either. During the war, everypony had anticipated Zeus using such punishment again. When it hadn’t happened, and Zeus seemed to be missing entirely, it had become clear that this time things were different.

Of course, it was possible to utterly destroy an alicorn.

Until the war this had only happened once; when Nightstallion Anarchy had destroyed Helios, God of the Sun, casting his essence back into the Far Realms, where in time it could coalesce and become a new alicorn. But it would not be Helios. It might not even be an alicorn of a Sun. Aunt Hemera had taken Helios place, extending her duties as the Goddess of the Day and Light to encompass guiding Gaea’s sun.

Dozens had fallen during the war, mostly lesser alicorns; though a few greater alicorns had fallen as well, like Uncles Apollo and Hermes. Shyara shuddered as the memory of Ares standing over her mother invaded her waking mind. Would Ares have destroyed them as well? The only answer Shyara had was, ‘yes’. Ares was the God of Slaughter, what else would he have done?

Even if he didn’t destroy them, they’d have become shades... like Aunt Serene...

Shyara shivered despite the June heat, running her hooves along her legs as she finally realised the truth; she and Tyr were the last of the Alicorns of Light. Well, there was also her grandmother, great-aunts, and She-With-No-Name. If Shyara and Tyr had survived Astraea’s spell, then little nameless must have as well. Not that the nameless one mattered.

Cousin Athena claimed that her father was Persus, but Shyara knew that was a lie.

“You okay there?” Bonnie’s voice broke Shyara out of her thoughts and back to the waking world.

Around them the train clattered down the tracks, and through the window trees whizzed past. Magnum had fallen asleep, his head lolling over the side of the bench, a thin trickle of drool hanging from the corner of his mouth.

“I’m okay, I was just...” Shyara finished her statement with a shrug, not sure exactly what to say.

“Thinking of home?”

“How could you tell?”

“You have a look I’ve seen a thousand times, deary.” Bonnie tapped her hoof a couple times as she gave a low laugh. “I’m a sea merchant by trade, and I see that same look every time I gaze into my mirror when leaving port. You’ve lost ponies, ain’t you?”

Shyara felt her throat clench, her jaw tensing as a wave of worry wormed its way through her weary heart. Blue and silver flashed before Shyara’s eyes, and she wished she were able to cry.

“Her name is Trixie,” Shyara whispered when her throat and jaw could again move. “I made a mistake, and lost her.” Her thoughts grew distant, haunted, as she spoke, and the next few words came out in a choked sob. “She... was a friend. My only friend. At first she was just some mor… pony, to hide behind, a shield in case… somepony came looking for me... Over time though...” With a sharp jerk of her head, Shyara shook off the memories and feelings. Forcefully, she pushed them back down. Dwelling on Trixie and her fate did no good.

“It’s okay to cry, don’t you know?” Bonnie said, switching benches to give Shyara a simple hug.

“If I could, I would,” Shyara grumbled, hiding her words behind crossed hooves.

Just as she was about to blow everything she’d said off, a low growl from her belly reminded Shyara that it had been a long time since she’d last eaten.

“Well now, that is a sound I know all too well,” Bonnie laughed. Hopping off the bench and waving for Shyara to follow her, she lead the way to the dining car. Making their way through the smoking car, Bonnie kept up a light stream of conversation.

On the other side of the smoking car, so named as it was where the gentry and nobility went to smoke and play cards, was the dining car. Near the front of the train, the dining car was separated from the engine by the kitchen car, baggage car and coal car. The dining car had a small bar tucked along the front, with several smallish booths for eating. Only one of the tables was open, so Bonnie and Shyara naturally went to it. They’d barely taken a seat when a waiter appeared, offering them menus and suggesting something called creme brulee on honeyed toast.

Shyara had learned a little about the value of an Equestrian bit. The few times she and Trixie had eaten at a restaurant the food had cost no more than three bits. She saw nothing on the menu provided by a mustached waiter that cost less than twelve bits. Likewise, the names were all in some other language. At least there were little pictures besides the dishes. Shyara guessed that she wasn’t the only pony who couldn’t read the menu.

After pointing at what looked like a pasta dish, Shyara turned to watch the rolling green countryside through the window.

Only a few minutes passed, a pleasant silence encompassing their tiny corner of the car, before a sharp voice pierced Shyara like an arrow.

“What do you mean there are no tables available? We made reservations!”

Looking away from the window, Shyara saw a beige, earth pony mare in a white jacket confronting the waiter. Her wavy blue mane framed dull yellow eyes. At her side was an almost white unicorn in a smoking vest with a slicked back blonde mane.

“I’m sorry madam, but there aren’t any reservations on the list,” the waiter calmly said, his trained resolve holding up like a fortress against the angry glare launched at him.

“Those two aren’t eating, just tell them to come back later.” The mare thrust a hoof at Bonnie and Shyara. The filly felt a surge of anger and loathing at the mare. She wasn’t surprised when, after the waiter again attempted to placate her, the mare marched up to their table.

“Excuse me,” the mare said, her voice exuding excessive sweetness.

“Why, hello there,” Bonnie looked up, having either pointedly ignored the argument, or had been too engrossed in the countryside to care.

“Hello, I’m afraid there has been a slight error.” The mare put on her best smile. “You see, we had reserved a table to dine at this time, and… we’ll, you see where I am going, yes?”

“Oh, yes, no problem at all!” Bonnie returned the mare’s smile, and then scooted over to make some room. “Why don’cha join us?”

“Oh, um...” Shyara smirked at the flustered mare as she looked from the bench, to the stallion watching with a bemused quirk to his own lips, then to Bonnie and Shyara. “I suppose that is acceptable… Right, love?”

The stallion shrugged.

“Doesn’t matter where you eat. I won’t have the common fare these trains call ‘food’.”

“Really?” Shyara snorted, turning the snort into a sharp giggle. “That’s kind of silly. Even back home we weren’t picky about our food. Well, other than lentils. That is peasant fare.”

The stallion gave a little chuckle, mirth flicking up the corner of his mouth.

“I'm Sapphire. Sapphire Shores, and this is my fiancé, Duke Halcyon Blueblood the thirtieth of Vanchester,” Sapphire indicated the stallion, trying to smile her way past his comment.

“Your Grace, this is a surprise, don’t you know?” Bonnie gave as much of a bow as was possible on the bench.

Shyara stared up at Blueblood. There was something about him, even more so than Bonnie. An indescribable aura of… something. A very familiar something. A warm something. A something that Shyara knew she should have been able to name. It was so similar to the aura she felt about Trixie and Bonnie, but different, and potent. Very, very potent.

If Trixie was an illusionist, and Bonnie was good at keeping secrets, than Blueblood had to be… what?

“Are you alright?” Blueblood asked, his piercing eyes having turned to the filly, sizing her up in just a glance.

Shyara could almost see it as his eyes traced her vest, flicked to her horn, darted to her blank flank, and then calculated everything together. His gaze returned to her vest, a tightness forming at the bridge of his muzzle.

‘He knows!’ Shyara realised with a gulp. ‘He knows I am hiding something, and he is trying to figure it out. He’s close, too. Does he have a magic seeing hat? No. Then, how?’

“Are you a spy?” Shyara asked, saying the first thing that came to mind.

“No, I am the current Vice Chief of Naval Staff for the Crystal Navy.” Blueblood pulled out a snuff box from his vest pocket. Placing a small amount of snuff on a hoof, he quickly inhaled the finely ground tobacco before adding, “That just means I am in charge of spies. I am not, nor have I ever, been a spy. Everypony seems to make that error.”

Snapping the box shut, Blueblood returned it to his pocket.

“You’re on the Admiralty Board?” Bonnie gave Blueblood a predatory grin.

“The civilian branch, yes. Never had a stomach for ship-life. Grandmother tried to get me to take a commission, having made me spend a dreadful few years at sea. While the navigation was fun, the terrible food, constant threat of disease, not to mention being stuck with hundreds of earth ponies in a small, wood box was not to my taste. And the mold! Ick.” Blueblood shuddered. “No, I’ll stick to land, thank you kindly.”

“Bluey, why don’t you have a seat?” Sapphire asked, her voice straining as she glanced about the train car and the various ponies starring in their direction.

“Well, I suppose it is uncouth to stand,” he grumbled, sliding down next to Shyara. “You and your mother must feel very honoured to sit at a table with a pony of my stature, yes?”

It took considerable effort for Shyara not to squeal with a fit of giggles and slide onto the floor. Her? Honoured to sit with a mortal? Any mortal?

Shyara couldn’t stop herself. The giggles came, along with her slipping off the bench and onto the floor beneath the table.

Surrounded by the table’s legs and benches, which formed a rather nice hidey-hole, Shyara’s fit of hysterics slowly passed, the filly taking the opportunity to consider Blueblood even more.

He was only acting like a fop, Shyara realised. Everything he did, every move he made, was carefully orchestrated to further that image. But he wasn’t a fop or fool. Far from it. He used lies and deception just like how Trixie used illusions. Was that what she saw when she looked at him? Lies? No, Shyara quickly decided, it couldn’t be Lies, as that was her father’s Domain. But something akin to lies.

Releasing an exasperated groan, Shyara pounded her hooves onto her head.

She was so close, she could taste it. Yet the something remained just out of reach, like it was purposefully teasing her.

Why did adults have to make it so difficult? Shyara knew her family had known for a good decade what her Domain entailed, but they kept it a secret. And from her! She was Secrets, so—

With a start, Shyara leaped to her hooves, having forgotten the table above her, her horn connecting with a whump that echoed down to her teeth. Eyes clamped shut, and rubbing her very sore head, Shyara didn’t hear Bonnie asking her if she was okay, nor see a little flash of light illuminate her hidey-hole.

Crawling out from beneath the table, Shyara grumbled. “I’m okay. I just figured out…”

Shyara’s eyes widened a little, her head whipping around to glance at her flank. Her no longer blank flank, and her mark.

Her mark was a black, twin-headed raven in profile, wings spread to catch the wind, atop a full moon. Or maybe just a circle. Clutched in the raven’s talons was a golden key.

A fresh giggle worked its way up her throat, turning into a booming laugh part-way.

She knew what everything in her mark meant. All the hidden meanings and Secrets. The twin-headed raven was the messenger, hearing and seeing all things, and carrying the hidden truths. It could swoop down and whisper them when needed, or vanish into the shadows and keep them safe. The circle —no moon, it was definitely the moon— was where the secrets were kept hidden and secure. The key was the most obvious, as she was the key herself.

“You got your mark!” Bonnie exclaimed, her eyes lighting as she stretched across the table to give Shyara’s mane a ruffle. “Wow… And a rather interesting one too.”

Shyara could stop from dancing on the spot, drawing bemused looks from observing ponies.

“Yes, and I found my Domain a half-century quicker than Tyr!” Shyara announced, striking a triumphant pose. “Who is the foal now!?”

“Tyr?” Blueblood’s gaze turned to steel.

“Domain?” Bonnie lifted a brow.

“I’m confused…” Sapphire rubbed her head.

Shyara froze mid-pose, hoof snapping to her face.

“Oh… Ponyfeathers…”