Whispers

Chapters

As Night And Day
From Now 'Til Forever
No Place Like Home
Society Girl
The Pursuit of Knowledge
Impromptu Ambassadors
Don't Be That Mare
Back In Time

As Night And Day

Standing rigidly atop the gem-encrusted carpet, the edgy colt cast his anxious gaze randomly around the modest chamber in a futile attempt to settle his nerves. To his left, the tiled wall was dotted up and down with an array of paintings mostly depicting the royal sisters and those of special interest to them. To his right, two massive windows overlooked the Everfree Forest below. In the center sat a sturdy-looking bed obscured by thick yellow curtains, secured by marble columns sporting spiraling groove patterns at each corner.

The first word to come to mind: stunning. In immediate hindsight, that word didn't seem to do the sun princess's private chamber justice. No single word in his vocabulary could, and that only added to the atmosphere, the seemingly forbidden nature of this privilege. Architects all over Equestria, from the bustling northern metropolis of Canterlot to the quaint little village of Everfree nearby, would see this as a golden opportunity to draw inspiration from the furnishings.

All of that was wasted on the awkward colt. He fidgeted restlessly, tracing his hoof along the carpet and watching a little too intently as his illustrious host slipped off her crystal shoes. Even as she casually rolled her neck and stretched her legs, she made no effort to break the uncomfortable silence between teacher and student.

Caught between instinct and instruction, the boy found himself at loss for what to do. Should he say something? Was that not his place? He was in the princess's domain, at her request. On one hoof, she was obligated to make him feel welcomed. On the other, her word was law, and everything that happened here would be by her whim.

He sighed, closing his eyes and thinking back.

*******

At last, the qualifying students of Princess Celestia's senior magic class had finished their final written exam for the semester. The preceding hour had been enveloped by a thick silence, peppered only by the rhythmic clicking of royal hoofsteps in an overly dramatic parody of a clock. And yet, all too soon, that pacing had stopped and given way to the princess's gentle yet firm voice...

"Fair students," she announced, "your time is up."

Terror danced in the less confident students' eyes as they hastily tried to close their essays. These desperate bids were cut short, as the princess's horn glowed with a faint golden aura. A loud crack echoed down the hall as all the parchments snapped shut at once, bound by shimmering silver rings. The scrolls silently hovered toward the desk at the front of the hall, ignoring the longing looks of their owners who were already regretting what they could or shouldn't have said in their writings.

Princess Celestia then turned to face the class directly, relaxing her hard gaze into an informal smile. "Ye shall disperse and reconvene in a week's passing. Until that time, venture into your next subject at a light pace," she paused to close her eyes. "Consider your following week a well-earned period for recuperation. A blessing upon you for your diligence and focus this term past."

Behind the warm smile, she nonetheless resigned herself to the grading she would have to endure those coming nights. She summoned the scrolls into a glowing mass and went for the door, stopping just long enough to give her prized students one final smile of reassurance. "And ye shall be mindful of this..." Her tone was sincere and personal, untouched by academic formality, "We take great pride after the accomplishments and merits of all our students."

Mere moments after her departure, the students began to unwind and organize into their various social groups to the tune of disorganized shuffling. The quiet colt seated near the front of the room disregarded their chatter as he went about packing his things, unaware of the presence to his left.

"Arcanus," a vibrant green-coated filly chirped in a bubbly voice, having already whipped together a crowd, "wanna join us for drinks?"

The stoic facade was already gone, as the colt jumped slightly from the sudden address. Still, he composed himself enough for a dismissive response. "Oh, I..." he muttered, sparing her a brief glance as he tried to remember her name. Gorgeous obsidian eyes that disguised the dynamic fires within. Big silly smile indicative of unshakable cheer. Deep blue mane, hanging lengthily within a moon-shaped clip. Smooth coat as verdant as surrounding forest. He shook his head, "I appreciate thine offer, fair... Moonthistle?"

The girl pouted unbecomingly, but it didn't last. Her energetic grin returned as the colt looked away. He did know her name after all! "Thou art more than welcome," she said, before shrugging and skipping off—

*******

"Arcanus?"

The young colt's daydream ended abruptly in face of the wise voice he knew all too well. He looked up to find the princess standing next to a decorated gold dressing cabinet, eyelids hanging lazily as she sniffed at the small glass floating just beneath her muzzle.

"Wouldst thou care for some wine?"

Arcanus's eyes widened as he shook his head on impulse, flustered by that most unexpected of questions. What the hay was this? Might as well still have been a dream. The princess had invited him to her bedchamber, and was now casually offering him wine? That certainly suggested his impromptu invitation didn't mean he was in trouble, but... what did it mean? "I... I must respectfully decline, your highness," he said lightly, keeping his formality firmly in place with a modest bow. "Wine is not to my taste."

"Suit thyself," Celestia replied offhandedly, smirking and sipping from her own glass as she placed her gold crown atop the dresser. Apparently oblivious to the increasing look of surprise on her student's face, she trotted over to the small mountain of scrolls and began to sift through them. "Thou art aware that she liketh thee?"

Arcanus raised an eyebrow, clearing his throat. "... May I ask who, ma'am?"

"Young Moonthistle," she replied, her rummaging continuing unabated. "Her fondness for thee is quite evident."

Knowing his idol wasn't watching, the boy saw fit to roll his eyes in disinterest. Reflexively he stole a look at himself in the dressing mirror. By no means was he hard on the eye, if the attention of an easygoing socialite like Moonthistle was anything to go by. He was modestly built for a unicorn colt, with an ash grey coat and a short, neatly kept black mane. He neither craved nor rejected such attention, preferring to base his self image on academic accomplishment.

As an avid reader of fiction, the years had taught him two very important lessons: one, friendship had its downsides, and two, love just plain wasn't worth the trouble. He had taken these lessons to heart, and as his desire to learn and grow increased, so did his resolve to distance himself from such 'distractions.' Even from his first day at the academy, he had made it a point to form only passing relations with his peers.

He straightened up, and spoke as formally as he could. "With due respect, ma'am, I do not attend the academy to giggle at mares. Your royal tutelage obligates me to reach for, and seize excellence."

Celestia whistled, but contrasted it by giving him a serious look. "And in thine own words?"

Arcanus took a figurative step back, but the answer to that question was straightforward enough. "... I am here to study, and learn. My career in unicorn magic doth not depend on making friends."

Celestia hummed in apparent concurrence, levitating a particular scroll from the pile. She removed the binding and unraveled it with a thought, running her eyes up and down the inked words and symbols. Arcanus gulped down a painful breath of air, unnerved by the sudden tension. Was he here to witness his grading? Seemed a tad... informal for something like that, didn't it?

"On that note, Arcanus, thy study hath proven most rewarding," Celestia said after a moment of silence, arching an impressed eyebrow in contemplation of the writings presented to her. "We believe thou hast fully comprehended the Ascension hypothesis." She looked him in the eye, and smiled. "Thine efforts exceed our greatest hopes."

In that moment, the apprehension vanished from the colt's face in favour of an uncharacteristic smile. He had practiced the stoic facade, gleaned from many hours of reading and studying characterization to hide his feelings regarding other ponies. That didn't mean he was an emotionless shell; he certainly did have his pride, especially when it came to his passion for academia.

He had every right to be proud of himself, too. The Ascension was one of the most convoluted topics they had ever covered—a hypothesis aiming to artificially 'create' an alicorn by blending the three intrinsic pony magics through strict mathematical patterning and magically embedding this 'god formula' within a unicorn's body. To complicate things further, researching the procedure was largely theoretical in the first place, as the princess had opted not to reveal, or even suggest a possible power source.

Still, in spite of all that, he'd managed to impress the princess and earned special recognition! If that wasn't awesome...

"And it is for such reason," the princess continued, tossing the scroll listlessly back on the pile, "that we see fit to assign a new task unto thee."

"Ye need only name it," Arcanus said, waiting expectantly for elaboration on this task. He was already determined to see it through, no matter it entailed. However, what he heard next soured his mood considerably.

"But before this, if we may..." Her tone took on a sudden formality as the look in her eyes hardened. "We might ask after your family? How fare your dear mother and young brothers?"

She stepped back as the colt hurried over to the cabinet. His own horn radiated waves of black energy, as he went about filling the other glass and wasted no time in tossing the vile substance back.

"Apologies, ma—" he coughed as the exorbitant gulp he had taken took him by surprise. He slowed down and took a deep breath to try and get his gag reflex under control, as even his anger couldn't curb the powerful taste of alcohol poisoning his tongue and throat.

"Speak freely, Arcanus. I do not wish to force anything of thee."

"My brothers doth spend... increasingly exorbitant amounts of time away from home, squandering our family's esteem along with their shares of the estate," he ranted somewhat coherently, staring intently at his glass in fear of offending the princess with his steely glare, "while returning late at night in drunken stupors without a care in the world..."

Celestia sighed. Even such little detail made things clear, for she was intimately familiar with that family's story. Granted, Arcanus never made a big deal about it, but his offhanded revelations of minor details had assembled enough of a picture for her. His younger brothers were spoiled and abusive of their inherited wealth, an alarming trend growing among the upper class in recent decades. They were seemingly incapable of holding jobs, most certainly for lack of trying, and flippant about caring for their sick mother.

The honourable fact here was that while Arcanus was fully capable of following this path himself, he had adamantly refused and all but denounced those sniveling brats as his family. And while the princess had offered him reprieve in the past to take some time and resolve these issues, he had always turned her down.

"It is nothing," he would lie, while all signs pointed to the contrary. Always hiding beneath the mantle of honour and the insistence that his academic diligence brought more pride to his mother than anything ever could. He had fashioned himself into the image of an unshakable rock; his way of promising that although his brothers were useless, he refused to be. He'd even made it clear that he loathed the idea of wallowing in one's problems. To him, that was a trite and deplorable excuse.

In time, Celestia had learned to admire such a mortal pony who could bear these burdens in his own home while maintaining a pretty face and unwavering dedication to study, and had resolved to give him the respect and personal space he deserved.

"Let us impart upon thee some wisdom, Arcanus," the lighthearted humour dropped entirely from her voice, sharply betraying her true age and wisdom. She summoned two violet cushions from the bed and motioned toward them. "If we might interest thee."

Arcanus nodded without hesitation, suddenly finding his sour demeanor hard to leave in place when juxtaposed against his clumsy hiccups. He prodded the plush purple pillow, raising an eyebrow in sincere appreciation. Even the royal pillowcases were top notch.

Celestia giggled quietly, a rare break in her regal conduct that Arcanus alone had witnessed. She spoke in response to his obvious thought: "Are they not magnificent? One of ponydom's greatest inventions," she mused as if in awe herself. "After pacing endlessly before a class," she sat abruptly on her own pillow with a soft thump, completely at ease, "thou canst have no greater relief."

Arcanus just laughed, a sincere laugh only two figures in his life could ever hope to extract. And now, in this most surreal of moments, he was sharing stories over a drink with one... in her bedroom. It could have just been the fast acting wine playing tricks on his mind, but he doubted it. "Of course, ma'am."

Celestia nodded, taking another mouthful from her glass as the boy sat upon his own cushion, falling unceremoniously back into it. "A long time ago, there lived two sisters. Inseparable they were. Wherever one went, the other was sure to follow. Whatever trouble one caused, the other was there to take the blame..." she smiled nostalgically, staring at nothing in particular, "or oftentimes, to have been the one at fault in the first place.

"Twin terrors these children were. The love of their dear mother's life, yes, but also at times her greatest nightmare. And yet, beneath all of that, was an unbreakable bond of companionship. Their love ran deeper than the pranks, the mishaps, those times they found themselves lost. Through it all, they persisted. And then, one day, their mother... passed. She had seen it coming, knew that her time was nigh, that her fate was inevitable. It was then that the sisters knew: all they had left was each other, and it had taken a crisis for them to truly understand."

Arcanus listened, keeping his expression neutral. Wondering who these sisters were was just patronizing; the passion in his mentor's voice made it far more than obvious.

"Do not judge thy brothers so harshly," she said, raising a hoof to silence the disagreement he was sure to voice. His hatred for his brothers certainly ran deep. "I understand thy pain. Just as thee, my dear sister and I never had a father, and our mother hath been lost to us for centuries. And while I lament our recent difficulties..."

She trailed off, finishing her wine with a remorseless sigh as she quickly went about pouring a second glass.

Uncertainty forbade Arcanus from expressing any feelings he may have had on the royal sisters' personal problems, as they were decidedly none of his business. He merely remained silent, reminding himself that he was privileged beyond any of his peers just to be hearing this. He looked to his own glass, barely noticing it was almost empty before he felt the bottle brush against his hoof, though willed by a golden magical aura rather than his own.

To his surprise, the quiescent princess's eyes were closed. Even as she appeared to be sleeping, she had noticed his 'predicament' before even he had. Observant to a fault, as any good teacher should be. He gently accepted the bottle and refilled his glass. Heh, that was all it took to get his previously untapped confidence of and rolling? It was starting to taste somewhat civil, too...

"Ahem," Celestia coughed, flashing the trustworthy smile for which she was borderline famous despite the melancholy subject at hand. "These past months have been mark by... unrest between my sister and I. Disagreements over matters of nil importance, and mood swings, yet she... refuses to inform me as to why she conducts herself as such."

Her eyes narrowed, the pain within all too obvious. Clearly, she was giving the brief version of the story. Or perhaps she was leaving something out?

"However," she amended, "deep down, we yearn for the other's affection. The time we spend together, unmarred by meaningless quarrel, is most wonderful.' Her voice seemed to regain its usual strength with each word, as memories of happier times stirred. "In our hardest, our most trying times, all we have is each other, from now until eternity. No amount of petty arguing can sever that bond. Dost thou understand?"

Arcanus nodded slowly, unsure whether he should voice his disagreement as to how this analogy was meant to apply to him. His grievances toward his siblings went far beyond circumstantial disagreement. "I... believe I do, ma'am," he replied, with an obvious lack of conviction.

Celestia picked up on this, as she knew he would, and gave him a weary smile. It was one of those 'we both know that's nonsense' smiles.

"Young Arcanus, thine intelligence doth eclipse that of most. Thou hast drawn from our words what was intended," she stated objectively.

And, in the face of that, the influence the esteemed princess held over the minds of her students came to light as Arcanus resolved to speak his true feelings.

"But how am I to forgive my brothers? Irredeemable cretins they are, disgraceful..." He immediately regretted the demanding tone to that... demand, fighting hard to hold onto coherence in the face of his resplendent ruler. Bitter truth didn't mix well with alcohol. Celestia didn't seem to mind though, merely waiting out his rage with an immortal's patience. Her sympathy for his plight was true.

"We... I am not asking of thee to dismiss thy brothers' transgressions, but simply to be mindful of this," she said in a low voice barely above a whisper. "Someday, thy brothers shall turn to thee, and thou upon them. All thou shalt have left will be thy family. Find the resolve within thine heart to let go of the past and look toward the future with the strength only a family can share."

Arcanus said nothing, retreating to the comforting embrace of silence as he finished the last of his wine. He reflected on those words of wisdom. Could he really forgive his brothers? Would they ever seek that forgiveness? Did they deserve the chance at all?

Lost in these questions, he barely heard the loud knock at the door even as his regal host literally flew to her hooves to answer it.

"Highness, Princess Celestia." A burly dark-coated royal guard clad in silver plating, obviously one of Luna's elite. He saluted, catching sight of the diminutive colt in the room alongside the empty wine glasses and pillows. He was interrupting something, but his message was urgent. "It is time to raise the sun. Princess Luna..." He frowned. This wasn't going to go down well. "Princess Luna hath locked herself in her room, again. She doth refuse to answer to our prompts."

Celestia nodded and dismissed the messenger, sighing as she looked out the window. As per its magically automated arc, the moon should have been near the horizon by this time... yet there it was, perched high atop the heavens in all its defiant glory. Her estranged sister had recently taken to throwing tantrums, which often included freezing the moon's course and "hijacking" the cycle so to speak... sometimes for whole days at a time.

Obviously, tonight was going to be another one of those nights.

She felt a presence to her left, and laughing cynically. Mere months ago this foalish behaviour on her sister's part would have exacerbated her to no end. She had recently settled into a sort of defeated acceptance... which was disconcerting enough on its own. "Thou heardst that?"

Arcanus nodded, knowing he couldn't deny it.

"Take a lesson, my student," Celestia whispered, sculling the remaining half of her glass before trotting out the door. She looked over her shoulder, offering the most sincere smile she could. "One's siblings can be as night and day—their greatest pleasure, or their greatest pain." She forced the smile to hold, even as her young apprentice said nothing. "It is time to find out which it shall be tonight. Wouldst thou care to accompany me?"

*******

Arcanus shook his head groggily, rubbing his eyes to restore his vision. That said nothing of the faint traces of heat he could feel tingling all over his coat, or the tiny wisps of smoke wafting from his frazzled mane.

After accepting the princess's offer, he'd barely started after her when he'd been engulfed in some sort of glowing white flame. In no time at all, the room around him had simply melted away, scattering in all directions like rain drops in a cyclone. And then, as fast as he could blink, he was before this massive blue door, emblazoned with a large silver icon of the moon.

He'd have to learn the teleport spell and practice it, as being ill-prepared for its side effects could get him into trouble someday.

"Sorry," Celestia quipped mischievously, coping with her own nerves considering the gravity of what may await her on the other side of that door. She nodded at the sentries to either side before hesitantly raising her hoof to rap on it a few times. "Sister?"

No response.

"P-Princess," Arcanus whispered shakily, suddenly aware of the all-too familiar sensation flowing through his horn. Celestia didn't respond, clearing her throat and banging on the door again.

"Sister?" Still nothing. "Luna, art thou in there?"

"Princess," Arcanus repeated, with more insistence this time. His suspicions were right, and the tingling in his horn was no longer in question. "Do you feel that?"

Celestia stopped prodding the sealed door with her magic, taking a step back to survey it further. She closed her eyes and concentrated, scrying whatever it was her disciple was on about. With her attention focused, her heightened senses picked it up in seconds, specifically around the hinges; the invisible residue of...

"Loose magic," she muttered with an air of concern, indicating this was no longer routine. Loose magic was only present in the air after powerful spells had gone off recently. Few students in the history of the kingdom had ever reached that level of power without years of specialized study; those who did usually became lecturers.

More than likely it was Luna's own magic that had caused this fallout, and whatever warranted such exertion on the part of an alicorn was a matter to be taken very seriously indeed. Celestia spared Arcanus a brief glance, and the steel in her eyes made him back off immediately. The guards tensed, awaiting their command.

"Evacuate the castle and clear the village," she muttered grimly, watching as they dashed off. Arcanus closed his eyes, eventually having to shield them with his hoof, as the princess's horn began to glow white hot. "Arcanus, stand back!"

A massive crash reverberated down the dark hall as the door was ripped apart; shattered by the shockwave, the scattering fragments incinerated by solar flames. The backlash warped harmlessly around the two ponies, deflected by the other half of the spell: the barrier. An ingenious idea, Arcanus noted, but gave it little more than a passing thought. Academic curiosity had its place, and that place was not now.

Coughing and spluttering to clear the dust, Arcanus cautiously followed the princess through the splintered remains of the door. His suspicions could never have prepared him for the reality. The room had been torn to pieces. Scorch marks snaked their way along the floor and ceiling; broken furniture and bookcases littered the floor; the bed was half melted, what little remained of it impaled with shattered fragments of ornaments and picture frames; the ruined carpets cut into ribbons by a sea of glass shards; entire chunks taken out of the walls... A dragon might as well have chewed right through it.

However, his attention was saved for the most notable detail in the room. A large, spherical depression was carved into the floor, just off the middle of the room, and served as the epicenter of the destruction. Rather, the black alicorn kneeling within it, almost as large and imposing as Celestia herself.

Arcanus didn't even need a history of reading to draw conclusions on this one. The alicorn vaguely resembled Princess Luna, but that was irrelevant. Whoever it was, her very appearance was like a nightmare given form. Whoever said 'don't judge a book by its cover' had never seen this creature, evidently; wicked teal eyes, ominous black coat, ethereal and almost supernaturally unsettling mane and tail more closely resembling a gaseous cloud of stars than anything else, and a solid helmet and breastplate coloured in a light purple shade.

One thing was obvious to Arcanus: this wasn't his arena. He knew a thing or two about fighting, as the curriculum included traditional (and in modern times, largely ornamental) combat arts held over from the Age of Discord, but nothing that would help him stand up to an alicorn. He looked up at his mentor, who wore an expression more serious than he'd ever seen; a thick mixture of horror and determination.

"What devil art thou?" Celestia demanded icily, taking a brave step forward and pawing at the floor. She scanned the room in search of any sign of Luna, to no avail. "What hast thou done with my sister?"

The shadowy alicorn rose to her full height, her lips twisting into a sinister smirk. Correction, Arcanus noted. She was as big as Celestia. "Think of me as... what that ineffectual crybaby would become if she grew a backbone," she whispered spitefully, hinting at the hostility that ran deeply within. "She had her time."

Celestia's eyes narrowed further. "And that doth mean what, exactly?"

The dark mare shrugged, bringing a hoof to her cheek as she seemed to sincerely contemplate the best way to put it. Her eyes lit up, literally pulsed an effulgent white, as she motioned toward her cutie mark as though it told a story. "Is it not obvious? Luna is no longer. The weakness and submission that foal represented is but a memory of sadder times. You now stand before Nightmare Moon!"

"No..." Celestia murmured reflexively, as she could deny that damning detail no longer. The mark was the same as Luna's. She looked to the floor and found the charred remains of a book with part of its cover still intact. It was a title she was familiar with, one she hoped would never lead her beloved sister of all ponies to this... betrayal.

Bolts of lightning flashed erratically around the dark mare as her triumphant roar visibly shook the room, knocking Arcanus off balance. She looked over her new form with an appreciative smile, admiring the shimmering magical waves that rippled across her shiny coat. "At last, we can make our dreams a reality."

"... We?" Celestia inquired, keeping a firm check on her emotions for the time being.

"For centuries I have existed in the deepest regions of Luna's mind—ever since she took charge of the moon, in fact. Did you not think there was more to her than loneliness and low self-esteem? Did you not think that perhaps, deep down, she didn't accept her exclusion as a fact of life and sought the means to fight back?" Despite those accusatory words, she smiled as her older sister looked to the floor; the guilt in her eyes told wonders. So, she saw fit to twist the knife. "Did you not think of her at all?"

"Of course!" Celestia snapped, looking up at the contemptible facsimile of her sister with hateful eyes. Centuries it had been since she had succumbed to such anger, and this creature had provoked her to do so with a few petty words. Nopony insinuated the princess of the sun didn't care about her sister. "I would never wish any harm upon her! She meaneth more to me than life itself—"

"But you let things get this bad."

Celestia's rant evaporated along with her anger, putting her on the backhoof. Those words thrust her into a reflective silence by virtue of being exactly her own. How did I let things get this bad? The pieces of the puzzle were beginning to fall into place. Irrational mood swings, refusing to talk to her, inane insults with thinly veiled deeper meanings, hijacking the very balance of night and day? She was beginning to see them all in a new light.

Still, she had to know for sure. "... Is this thine idea of 'helping', then? By immersing thyself in that foul magic?" The ruined tome spoke of evil powers and the dark magic they could bestow upon those who sold their minds to it. Despite their obscure potential for abuse, they could have proved excellent learning resources. "What is thy reason for this transgression?"

"You wouldn't understand, sister. The people chose you. They admire you, and love you. They acknowledge what you do for them, day in and day out, and shower you with praise while caring naught for my own contributions to their insignificant little lives. They place you under the spotlight, and you are too busy feeding on their praise and adoration to even think about stepping out of it! And, the most frustrating part? You were the older and more powerful of us, so we—or rather, Luna—found ourselves condemned to such a status quo."

Celestia shook her head. "Thou dost claim to know my sister intimately, yet honestly believe that had she approached me on this issue, I would have responded with force?"

"Uncertainty, Celestia. Luna was built on it, and opposing you would have challenged an unknown. However, where she was afraid, I am not. In answer to your question? All I have done is risen to my birthright. No longer will I accept an inconsequential existence, forever trapped beneath your shadow! With this power, I can finally... matter."

Celestia gazed longingly toward the moon, ignoring the tears beginning to form in her eyes as the bitter subtext behind those last words became as clear as... day. Luna's refusal to lower the moon suddenly made alarming sense, and the implication that she'd had a hoof in this stirred a wave of sickness in the sun princess's stomach. Why hadn't she seen it sooner? Why hadn't she given more than a passing thought to any of this sooner? This was her fault, and now her negligence had gone to its logical conclusion.

"Thy words are not thine own, Luna," she attempted to reason... weakly, admittedly. But this didn't have to happen. There had to be a way out of this! "Why do this now? Thou knowest thy gift of night is appreciated—"

"Now it is," the warped image of Luna dismissed that shallow nonsense, as a sense of freedom and satisfaction at this new reality danced in her eyes. "And it shall be as such from this moment forth. Equestria will never forget my name again."

Celestia settled upon her corrupted sister a steadfast glare. Those vague words didn't sit well at all, even if she had a good idea what the deeper meaning was. "What wouldst thou do?"

"Teach them the meaning of respect," she whispered cryptically in seeming afterthought. "They had the audacity to shun my gift of night, take it for granted without giving even a loving smile in return, so let us see how they react to a lifetime of it!"

With a deep sigh, Celestia caught sight of the shattered remains of the moon princess's silver crown buried in the rubble. She shut her eyes, in a futile attempt to escape the reality it represented, but the bleak realization had already set in. This matter was no longer personal, and there would be no compromise. Eternal night would irrevocably cripple Equestria, and could not be allowed to come to pass.

A confrontation was inevitable and, by the looks of things, imminent.

"Is what I'm doing really so wrong?" Nightmare Moon continued to jab as Celestia contemplated the floor in silence. "You stand there in all your righteousness, but in all the years we've lived, you must have thought what it would feel like—"

"Thou darest compare myself with thy greed and ambition? That is thy domain, not mine," she snapped, dismissing the ridiculous notion. She shook her head, keeping her eyes to the floor as the tears fell freely, knowing her attempts to stay neutral were failing on every front. "... or Luna's, for that matter."

"And yet, here we are. I don't blame your inability to empathize," Nightmare Moon 'soothed' in a sardonic parody of consolation, aggravating Celestia further as she knew it surely would. "You already stand in the sunlight, the ruler everypony knows and respects. The thought of rising up and taking something for a change would be all but a foreign concept to one who already has everything—"

Celestia suddenly looked up, her eyes burning with rage the likes of which hadn't been seen for hundreds of years. "Is this how thou wishest be remembered? A selfish, immature foal?" Her magically amplified voice carved deep cracks up and down the walls as the anger at both her own ignorance and her sister's indiscretion boiled over. It was bad enough she'd let this happen, but how long would it take to undo the years... hundreds of years worth of mistakes that had brought them to this meltdown?

Nightmare Moon whistled. "This is where things get interesting! I haven't seen you this worked up since mother died," she stated plainly and precisely. "But your words are meaningless in the face of reality. If you intend to stand before me, then you can also fall before me."

"Lower the moon, Luna," Celestia commanded through gritted teeth, ignoring the petty taunt. Just as her sister's eyes shimmered with a strong white glow, her own eyes were enshrouded in deep blackness as her power ramped up further, igniting the few undamaged candelabra around the room. Still, she held onto clarity in the name of one last try at civility... even knowing her words would have little effect. "We shall extend upon you but one chance."

"I guess this means we won't become friends," the lunar mare said flippantly, deadpanning at the melodrama. Still, apparent disinterest gave way to passion as she lowered her horn threateningly and affixed her older sister with a hateful glare. "And if that was meant to intimidate me, you don't even pass on effort." Her eyes moved ever so slightly to her sister's right. "Will your little plaything, Arcanus if I recall, be joining us?"

Celestia side-stepped to stand between the two.

"In fact, why is he even here?" the nightmare continued, raising a curious eyebrow as a strange sort of sincerity flowing through her words. "This is our battle— my battle, is it not?" She let those words hang, as though expecting a response. "He has no place in this. He's a nopony."

Celestia narrowed her eyes thoughtfully at Arcanus, before returning them to the task at hoof. "Thou shalt not kill, or harm a hair on his head," she stated, not asked. Locking eyes with her sis- with the nightmare, she stared into them as though desperately searching out a lost soul. "He shall bear witness to what we are about to do, whatever regrettable tragedy it may entail."

"If that's the way you want it," the nightmare agreed with a shrug, humouring her sister as though the point was open for discussion. "It's only fitting that your prize student be the one to write the tale of your downfall in the coming years. The air around her began to bubble and crackle with violet and silver flames, while her eyes glowed uncanny white in a showy display of power.

Celestia dipped her gaze to the floor, shaking her head with grim acceptance as her own golden aura manifested and wreathed her body in flames. The superheated energies rushed past her face, boiling away her tears and revealing the reluctance in her eyes.

"Sister..." the forlorn princess whispered as her golden crown appeared before her. The three jewels within began to resonate, breaking free and hovering in formation around her head. Their counterparts from the broken husk of Luna's crown followed suit, shaking off their silver bonds like a sword would blades of grass. "Deep beneath thine anger and hatred, I pray thou wouldst hear these words," the gems glowed brighter, as their colours began to bleed outward and merge like wet paint, "... I am sorry to do this to thee."

Celestia shut her eyes and looked away as fresh tears forced their way out, her conscience screaming at her in conflicted agony. Ignoring it, suppressing it, only hurt more. She unfurled her wings and widened her stance, mentally and physically bracing herself to wield the power of Harmony against this darkness... to turn the very symbol of her mutual love for her sister upon her.

A sudden blunt pain rushed through the sturdy white alicorn's body, knocking her off balance and throwing her bout of self-pity to the wayside along with her concentration. The growing magical storm subsided as the glowing orbs fizzled, breaking formation and clattering to the ground.

"Apology accepted," Nightmare Moon quipped, condescension on high as she backed away while keeping her guard up. "I'd say that was a nice try, but... I'd be lying." She eyed the fallen artifacts and their attempted wielder with a satisfied smirk. "It's about time you learned that not everything happens on your terms. The night is still young, and this is far from over."

Celestia glared back at her defiantly, a show of desperation and exertion that only made the dark witch smile wider. The deep gash the brazen assault had carved through her flank burned furiously, and she winced as her attempts to force the wound closed with magic were met with an almost necrotic resistance.

She blotted the pain out, and surrendered herself to instinct with but one final thought.

Forgive me, Luna.

From Now 'Til Forever

The princesses of sun and moon circled each other in silence, letting their strength return to further fuel their senseless fight. Their hunched stalking made them seem like starved animals eagerly awaiting even the briefest chance to pounce. It was a rare lull in the destructive tempest of the past hour, a brief serenity that was nonetheless betrayed by their eyes: hatefully met, glaring daggers, refusing to relent until the other was subdued and broken.

Arcanus merely looked on in equal parts fear and wonder, nestled 'safely' behind a fallen pillar. Amidst the chaos, the ruined room had suffered and degraded as though weathered by the elements for a thousand years. Only, in this case 'a thousand years' was a mere hour, if that, and 'elements' was closer to the unrestrained power of two demigoddesses.

In a display of raw strength he had never considered, the sisters' furious strikes had proven capable of ripping chunks of solid marble apart like mere old parchment, and the shockwaves caused when they made contact had caved entire walls and uplifted parts of the floor. That said nothing of their metaphysical abilities either; the air itself hung heavy, drenched in the poisonous cling of loose magic, the few intact torches having flared on and off in a magnificent magical spectrum. Even the heavens themselves danced to their tune, with day and night having traded places many times as the sun and moon vied for dominance in bizarre sync with their masters.

It was in this moment that one sister chose to break the silence. "... Tell me something, sister." Celestia stopped pacing to stand up straight, taking the time to massage a prominent cut on her cheek. "Dost thou remember when we put ink in thy tea?"

The dark alicorn opposite her paused as a genuine smile crept its way onto her lips at the sincere banter. She laughed lightly... and seemingly in good nature. "Yeah, I do. And I'll have you know," her tone suddenly reflected that of a whiny sibling, which of all things was a promising sign, "that stuff was a nightmare to get out. It stained my teeth black for weeks!"

Celestia's eyes narrowed as she smirked uneasily. The humour hadn't left the conversation yet, so she pressed on. "Try as I might, to this day I have yet to comprehend how thou couldst drink that... stuff," she chuckled casually, drawing on her passing knowledge of 'commoner talk.' "But thou must admit, 'twas funny."

Nightmare Moon gazed at the floor with an arched eyebrow, caught off-guard by the sudden mix of formality and colloquialism. Still, her smile grew. There was a faint trace of warmth to both her tone and grin, and Celestia's hopes were renewed. "... Heh, that was pretty funny, wasn't it?" The laugh they shared was more sincere and loving than any they'd had in months, and it became apparent that reason still had the potential to resolve this crisis. "You do know this isn't necessary, right? We don't have to do this."

Celestia was taken aback... literally taking a step back in surprise. This wasn't what she expected at all. It sounded like something she would have said, and she quickly resolved to encourage this line of reason. Hopefully it would go exactly where it needed to. "... Indeed, I do."

Nightmare Moon broke eye contact and slowly trotted around the room, momentarily forgetting their fight to muse with a vague fondness. "Remember our childhood and all the fun we had? Always asking 'why are we so tall?' and 'why do we have wings and horns?'"

Celestia smiled fondly, as the memory of that most beloved figure in her life came to the forefront. "... and mother would never give us a straight answer..."

Nightmare Moon laughed. "Or why magic came so easily to us, and how we mastered in minutes what should have taken days?" She smirked slyly at her sister... the way they used to when a prank or cunning plan was brewing. "Or how about our tricks?"

"Thou meanest how we abused our gifts for petty amusement," Celestia mock-scolded, shaking her head as the memories of her childhood behaviour found themselves under the scrutiny of maturity and perspective. Still, she couldn't rightly look back on those days with anything but a feeling of fondness and nostalgia. "Indeed, we carried ourselves most disruptively."

"Disruptively?" the dark alicorn laughed, letting the understatement slide even as she recalled some of their more outlandish deeds. She rolled her neck, dropping the whimsical tone and getting back to the point. "We were the twin terrors of those close to us. Pranks, mishaps, and how mother didn't disown us after that thing with the silence weed..."

Celestia actually laughed aloud, relaxing slightly despite herself. "Pray pardon, sister," she exclaimed in mock outrage, coughing as a light sob marred her words, "... but thou shouldst no doubt recall who started that!"

"At your advisement, sister. As always, you were forever getting me into trouble." With a thoughtful smile devoid of malice, she added: "Although... I suppose you were always there to get me out of trouble again..."

Despite this reliving of happier times, Celestia suspected it was all cosmetic. Knee-jerk banter indicative of little beneath its shallow surface. Indeed, Nightmare Moon's mannerisms all suggested the absence of aggression, from the relaxed way she stretched, right down to the way she was nodding casually throughout their exchange. And yet, her eyes remained the picture of malevolence; it was just unfocused, for now.

Still, she had to discern why Luna had bothered to bring this up.

"... Dost thou not yearn for a return to those days?" Celestia asked cautiously, quickly growing serious. Her unstable sister's mood could switch in a heartbeat, courtesy of the taint of that foul magic and evidenced by their prior clash. She had to be tactful about her choice in words while placating these wild emotions. "I understand my mistake. Thy sadness, loneliness... my negligence, my willful ignorance, allowed them to deliver unto us this coil." She broke eye contact as a feeling of disconsolate shame crept over her. Though, a little white lie to potentially save the world couldn't hurt... "I am solely to blame. Hear my words, for I am truly sorry, dear sister. Prithee, renounce thy taking darkness and come back to me in peace."

Technically it wasn't all her fault, as she still felt a twinge of disappointment and pity at her misguided sister's display of immaturity and willingness to lash out instead of bringing her woes to light through discourse. This situation would differ little from a selfish foal throwing a tantrum, had this foal not been a particularly vindictive goddess.

It went without saying that pointing that out now would be like trying to douse fire with a bundle of dry straw. The tall princess of the day watched patiently as the nightmare opposite her contemplated the floor thoughtfully, already suspecting what was going through her mind.

"Yes..." Nightmare Moon whispered, looking up to find her adamant sister hadn't visibly reacted at all. "Yes. A return to peace and prosperity would be nice. Fighting hasn't done us any good so far, heh." She motioned toward her body, which bore cuts, burns and bruises from the vicious pummeling she had exchanged with her equally battered sister. "All you have to do is put aside your self-centered arrogant for a change, and stand aside to allow Equestria an era of tranquility and respect. My era."

The warped aberration of the night princess looked toward the unobstructed violet sky once again; the ceiling had been completely destroyed in the chaos, rendering the chamber little more than a balcony. She frowned at the sight of her beautiful moon sharing the night sky with that invasive, glory-stealing sun.

Celestia exhaled loudly, but was not entirely surprised at that response. Somewhere between the overly visionary speech, considering her sister's immature motivation for doing this, and chastising herself for thinking this nightmare could be so easily talked down, the sun princess wasn't angry or frustrated any longer. Memories were nice, but that's all they were.

This wasn't an attempt by the beast to vex her with flippancy. If it was, she could deal with it. Alas, her sister really was so enwrapped in contempt and self-loathing that she was truly... blind to the consequences of her actions and what they would do to the world. She wouldn't bow to compromise at all, no matter how reasonable.

But then again, compromise ran both ways, and just as her sister would not back down, neither would she.

Glaring with the fury of the sun itself, Celestia charged without hesitation. She kept her eyes firmly on those of the sarcastic dark alicorn, who smirked back as though daring her to attack. Her face hardened as her horn filled with solar energy, fully prepared to bring the fight to the enemy.

Nightmare Moon grinned wickedly and reared back, ready to pound her aggressor into the ground, but no sooner had she gotten in range did the sun princess sidestep with speed to shame even the most nimble pegasus, while her horn simultaneously emitted a violent golden blaze. The black mare's hooves embedded themselves in the ground with a terrific crash, rattling Arcanus' bones and driving him back behind his makeshift cover.

The black mare growled wrathfully, blinking rapidly to restore her vision. Nevertheless, she quickly relocated her sister's position... just a few steps to the right. That was it? The big plan? "Hah! What did you-"

Her belittling was cut off by the impact of two hooves planting themselves firmly in her face. She recoiled and shook her head furiously. Sure, she'd taken many hits throughout the fight, but getting caught without proper guards in place, magical and otherwise, upped the pain tenfold. Any facsimile of humour had gone out the window, and she found herself desiring a swift end to the pounding in her forehead and the damned pony who caused it.

Despite, or perhaps because of the throbbing hoofprints on her face, Nightmare Moon was rather annoyed by her sister's sudden initiative. Beneath that, she found it brought her pause. Until now, Celestia had been hesitant to attack first, which let the darker of the two pick the terms of their engagements... or so she believed. Now, all bets were off.

"Ahah, that wasn't... too... bad," Nightmare Moon taunted, but trailed off as her vision refocused to reveal that Celestia had disappeared again. Furthermore, the slip in her composure was all too obvious. Groaning, she rolled her bleary eyes and looked around. Nothing to the left but shattered glass and marble fragments, nothing to the right except broken wood and... well, fragments of marble. Rapid teleportation, how mundane.

"Here, sister!" a voice echoed from the window. "Thou art rather light-minded, art thou not?"

Nightmare Moon didn't even bother to be prompt in turning around, for the bright glow reflecting off what few untarnished tiles remained made her sister's position obvious. Instead, she raised an eyebrow, suppressing her anger enough to laugh at the lack of conviction in the voice.

"Wait, was... was that supposed to be a taunt?" she asked flippantly, turning and smiling confidently. "That just isn't you, sister. You have to mean it." Still, she stared with obvious curiosity, intrigued by whatever strategy was running through her idealistic sister's mind. "Eh, I'll bite. What are you up to?"

Perched within the largest window overlooking the expansive chamber, Celestia lowered her head solemnly. The sun and moon, glowing with a divine tint of royal gold and brilliant silver respectively, hung in the twilight-hued sky behind her, with one eclipsing the other in a fittingly rebellious sense. Her horn and eyes were enshrouded in a fiery orange blaze as the powerful celestial bodies behind framed her figure with a majestic aura.

"I wouldn't advise it," snorted the evil alicorn, trying to sound aloof despite panting wearily with an obvious twitch to her eye and shortness of breath. Nonetheless, she wasn't concerned. Her sister had already attempted to seize direct control of the moon to lower it quite early in the battle, but doing so had left her vulnerable to a counter-attack. "Alright, fine." She lowered her head, displaying her horn threateningly. "Let us see where this leads."

The aura radiating from Celestia's horn pulsed, forcing the sun and moon apart while causing the former to glow magnificently like the mightiest of torches. At the same time, the silver radiance of the moon was snuffed out by a thick layer of black clouds.

Nightmare Moon's jaw dropped in disbelief at the blatant arrogance, playing right into the trap. "What, how... how dare you?" she snarled at the blasphemous affront, stamping the ground fiercely as her eyes burned white with pernicious intent. "You disrespectful little..."

Trying and failing to fight back tears, Celestia raised a hoof and unleashed a torrent of magic from her horn. Twisting and curling in the air like an ethereal string of fabric, the golden energy fired straight into the sun and magnified its blazing rays. The sky was ignited, bathing the ground in supernatural luminescence. Arcanus barely had time to look away, but others hadn't been so lucky...

Nightmare Moon screamed and thrashed violently, falling back on her haunches to futilely bring a hoof to her burning eyes. In the throes of hubris, her vision had been shattered by a simple psychological trick. By obscuring the glow of one celestial object, Celestia had led her to focus on the other one...

"Agh!" she bellowed in hateful vengeance toward the heavens, for no amount of rubbing could make the raw, tearful agony swimming through her eyes subside. By some means she was too preoccupied to discern, the shock of the attack had not just blinded, but weakened her overall. Disoriented, she let forth an unrestrained rant in sheer frustration. "Da... damn you, Celestia! When I... find you... I'm going to kill..."

Lost in her anger, she didn't even notice as Celestia silently approached her, ignoring the literally blind threats as best she could. Something about hearing her own sister threaten to tear her to pieces and burn them to ashes didn't sit well, but she forced the feeling of revulsion into silence. "'Tis foalishness, Luna. Surrender," she pleaded almost desperately, despite being in decisive control of the battle at this point. "I beg of thee!"

It was apparent that the enraged nightmare's unintelligible rambling would be the only answer. Even as her desperate thrashing cast bolts of energy in random directions, obliterating whatever they hit, Celestia merely scowled at the pitiful sight of her sister writhing in helpless agony.

"... Say it is not so, Luna" she whispered, shaking her head at the senselessness of it all. "Thou wouldst not disgrace mother's dying wish that we stand by each other, from now 'til forever-"

"Always treating... treating me like a damn foal!" Nightmare Moon screamed in the direction she assumed the voice of her dominant sister was coming from. "You d-don't even see it, blinded by your own pride and insufferable arrogance..."

Celestia wreathed her hoof in flames, infusing it with just enough power to drop the defeated nightmare without causing too much damage. Still, she stayed that hoof just long enough to ask: "Thou meanest..?"

"You were... the one she chose!" Nightmare Moon snarled, her own tears falling freely as the sense of injustice spilled out with every word. Wronged her entire life, patronized... and now, finally, doomed to obscurity for having the nerve to speak up. "... You were the one she cared about. She only ever cared about you. Mother... never loved me!"

Her fallen sister had apparently crossed a line, as the lingering orange glow in Celestia's eyes flared, ebbing into a deep black as her anger momentarily peaked. "... Do not dare speak disrespect of her memory again, Luna!" she hissed like the violently overprotective older sister she so resembled. She rose the empowered hoof, and whispered: "I will tell thee. She would be furious for what thou hast done, and more so for what I am about to do!"

She brought that hoof down across her fallen sister's face, hard. Nightmare Moon went down without a fight, stunned and concussed, barely noticing the throbbing burn amidst the pain from all her other injuries. Celestia looked on in silence, ignoring the urge to go to her wounded sister's side; the fight was clearly over.

On queue, the fallen jewels embodying the Elements of Harmony sparked to life faintly, once again hovering in formation around the sun princess's head. They fanned out before her eyes in a pentagonal pattern, with the brightest jewel of all situated in the center as they shimmered faintly in unison.

"... Behold, sister. I trust thou wilt know what these represent."

Nightmare Moon's eyes flashed inconsistently, rippling with tears of pain and frustration as she glared up at the blurred image of her nigh-victorious sister. The pinpoints of light stood out, and what they represented was clear to the disgraced night princess even through all the pain. The sight also inspired a sketchy attempt at one last mind game. "And... what would father say, knowing... that we... that you used his gift to do this to... to me?"

Celestia's glare mirrored her sister's own for a moment at the mere mention. "Nothing. Father isn't here, Luna. He was never here." The anger dissipated instantly, as she swiftly moved past that rather sensitive topic in favour of the one at hoof: reigniting the Elements. "... Thou shalt listen, and embrace the very powers that wilt bestow redemption upon thee!"

Nightmare Moon spat on the ground spitefully, trying pathetically to kick at her sister's legs. As if she gave a damn about some 'heroic' last minute lecture!

"Laughter... the essence of pleasure, what would have made our endless days worth continuing," Celestia stated, as the bottom left gem vibrated and shone a prominent shade of blue in tune with her words. "Honesty... the essence of integrity, the ability to trust, and to share our woes and joys alike without fear. Kindness... the essence of goodness, and the calling to treat all beneath us as our own beloved kin."

The starry-maned alicorn howled defiantly as two more of those foul gems glowed hotly at her sister's whim, powerless to do anything but listen to this inane moral nonsense. She struggled to rise, but her determination to rip the pretentious mare limb from limb exceeded her stamina and saw her collapse once again.

"Shut... up..." the weakened nightmare hissed.

"Generosity..." Celestia continued, taking a confident step forward as the bottom right jewel burst into a verdant shade of green, "... the essence of selflessness, and the ability to give unto others without want or need of favour."

"I... I said shut up!" This time it was accompanied by a swift, yet weak blast of energy. Celestia merely batted the thin magical fabric aside with a hoof, dispersing it harmlessly. A testament to how physically nonthreatening her sister had become.

She lowered her head and whispered: "... Loyalty." She choked on that one word, the implications of the context eliciting a bout of hesitation. She coughed through it, and the passion in her voice flared as she stared intently at the swirling, fiery red texture of the Element as if in search of a long lost memory. "The essence of stature and reliability, a sacred bond of trust and mutual dependence that we shared..." she focused harshly on the fallen image of Luna, and let a trace of regret creep into her formal lecture, "... that I believed we shared."

The final gem resonated sharply, emitting a blinding violet flash as its energies melded with those of its brethren to form a blazing emblem imbued with the colours of the rainbow. Nightmare Moon weakly shielded her eyes as the blazing light seared and burned her coat, hopelessly fighting the holy energies that assailed her body and soul.

"The final Element..." whispered Celestia in an almost prophetic sense, her eyes ablaze with white flames as a storm of magic swirled around her. "The ultimate force that hath bound our destinies these past years, and that hath gave unto us the strength to endure the trials of Discord. Say it, Luna."

Nightmare Moon bared her teeth as viciously as her weakened state would allow, refusing to bow and partake in this dramatic foolishness. She tried another blast, but found any attempt negated by the overpowering aura that had enshrouded them both. She shook her head violently and whispered but one word: "No..."

Celestia's eyes switched from pure white to abyssal black in an instant, taking on a reflective, almost metallic quality as the rainbow energy of the Elements danced within. "Say it!"

"No!" she snarled, fighting back with the one weapon she had left. "Never!"

"The essence of friendship," Celestia declared, her amplified voice echoing through the ruined chamber and wrapping up the theatrical display. "The nexus of the Elements and the very lifeblood of Equestria. The element of..."

"No! No!" the desperate visage of Nightmare Moon screeched, letting the residual effects of her power tear away at the debris piled around the chamber. The energy danced harmlessly around Celestia, as though it knew the consequences of even trying. "NO!"

"... Magic."

Rather anti-climatically, and against her own expectations, Nightmare Moon stopped struggling as her anger subsided at the sound of that dreadful word. Hearing it given voice led her to an an epiphany of sorts. "... Wait. That... that won't work." She hesitated for a moment, but suddenly laughed maniacally as though she'd won a particularly dramatic game of chess.

Celestia fell silent and looked at her maniacally upbeat sister inquisitively. "What dost thou find so amusing?"

Nightmare Moon just laughed harder, but notably did nothing to get her unstable aura back in check. No, she was too busy kicking herself for that. How had she missed a simple little detail? How had her oh so righteous sister missed it? "You know what... what it takes... to bring that forth. The bond of... a powerful, a real friendship! Look around you! At this! At me! We are friends... no longer..." she sneered as convincingly as she could. "Your element is useless!"

Celestia shook her head at the delusional husk of madness at her hooves, before glancing over her shoulder toward the back of the room. Arcanus had hesitantly limped out from behind his cover again, but wisely kept his distance. Nightmare Moon noticed their met gazes, and with her new found hope, managed a sarcastic groan.

"What... you think you... you can use the knave?" Her laughter grew to a point where she would have toppled over completely were she not already floored. The thought of being thwarted by such a sentimental cliché was ridiculous and impossible. She and her sister alone held the Elements, and they sure weren't a tool to be held in the hooves of a commoner. "But, by all means... entertain me! You can take it, but... but can he? Wielding this... our power, will surely kill him!"

Celestia returned her eyes to the giggling form of her wayward sister, and sighed. "Nay. Thou dost not choose to believe, but deep within thy soul, I sense an echo of our friendship hath endured to this dark hour to some extent, even if as nothing more than..." a white twinkle briefly flashed in her blackened eyes, sparking the final gem to life with a deep violet hue, "... a spark."

Nightmare Moon stopped laughing in a hurry, her eyes shooting open in fear as the realization of what was about to happen hit her in full. The shimmering rays of light emanating from the center gem had completed the divine picture and easily dispelled her delusions of grandeur.

"N... no... n- agh!" Wave upon wave of searing holy magic lashed at the younger mare's limp body, unhindered by her desperate pleas. She tossed about, wailing like a panicked animal inches from death, fearful for her life or worse as she stared into the blazing white abyss of the unknown. "No! No! W-wait... we can..."

"I am sorry, sister, but thou hast given to me, to us, no alternative," Celestia whispered emptily, leaning on the Elements and their neutral sense of justice for strength. "This resolution... it pains me deeply. But this madness must come to an end."

With enough effort to bear the weight of the sun itself, Celestia forced herself to ignore her sister's last ditch effort at shallow reason - insincere promises born of desperation and helplessness in the face of defeat. Dark magic was thinking for her now, and she wouldn't hesitate to finish this at a moment's notice were the situation reversed.

With one final pulse, the elemental emblem flared out into a powerful rainbow of light and bore down upon the screaming form of the disgraced moon goddess.

"I know thou still hast a faint glimmer of goodness locked away within thine heart, buried beneath the shroud of misguided wrath," Celestia shouted to be heard over the divine storm. "In time, I pray thou wilt also find it. Search thy soul, seize that goodness, and cherish it. Nurture it. For in time, thou shalt be redeemed. It may take years, or centuries, but I promise thou shalt be redeemed!"

As the glowing rainbow wrapped around the fallen sister's body, clashing violently with her dark essence and threatening to engulf her completely, so too did her fury reach its peak. With barely enough time or energy to finish the thought, she rasped the first and last words that came to mind: "I... h-hate...!"

Celestia covered her eyes as the storm of harmony exploded beyond her direct control, the containment spell beginning to run its course without her aid. With the last of her energy, emotionally and otherwise, she took a knee and made a subdued pledge: "Do not despair, my beloved Luna, for I shall not abandon thee. I swear it!"

*******

"Thou shalt not enter," grunted the deep blue unicorn sentry, gaze bearing heavily down on the diminutive colt as he blocked his attempt to pass. "Her highness is tending to her injuries, as thou shouldst be to thine own." He pointed to the prominent mark on the visitor's leg.

Arcanus frowned, following the guard's gesture down to the sole injury he had sustained that night: a moderate burn to his upper left foreleg. In his eyes it had been a fitting turn out; the princess told him to stay out of the fight, and like a mindlessly dedicated fool, he had attempted to intervene the moment she showed even the slightest difficulty. The pain had dulled to a faint throb, persisting just enough to remind him of the consequences of indiscretion.

He sighed, modestly unimpressed. He had gotten off quite lucky, considering he'd stood between two angry alicorns going for each other's blood. Had fate played its hand differently, he could be dead or worse. Furthermore, his 'battle' damage would heal in time. It was nothing compared to what the princess had suffered - both emotionally and physically.

But that was all beside the point. In all fairness, he was certainly there for a reason, but the fortress of a stallion towering over him at nearly twice his size didn't look to be in the mood for discussion. It didn't help that his sharp, spiky crimson mane protruded from beneath his helmet, which complemented his equally threatening scarlet eyes.

"I... um," Arcanus tried to say, but faltered under the guard's arched eyebrow. "I... believe her highness is expecting me..." Perhaps walking away and coming back later or waiting until he was personally summoned was the more prudent course.

"That remains to be seen. I shall make inquires on your behalf." The armored unicorn turned to face the door. "Wait here."

"It is alright," echoed a subdued voice of reason and wisdom from within the chamber, before he even had a chance to knock. The door creaked open with a gentle yellow glow and hum of magic. "Please, allow him to pass. We requested his prese-" she paused to cough through what was unmistakably a sob, "... I-I asked for him."

"Very well," the guard acknowledged, moving aside without hesitation. Keeping a stern eye on the ash coated colt, he leaned in close and whispered: "Ye are privileged with her highness' favour. With due respect, choose your words carefully. Would ye please not burden her highness with the mundane?"

Arcanus gulped and nodded sheepishly. The iron in the guard's jarringly formal whisper made it clear he didn't say that for him to agree with. Quickly edging through the door, he was greeted with the most... unbecoming image of the mighty princess he had ever hoped to see.

Kneeled before a massive statue situated along the far wall, looking rather defeatedly up at it, was a battered Princess Celestia. Despite the numerous injuries dotted around her body, ranging from minor grazes to deep gashes, light singes to fierce burns, she appeared none too concerned. To her left sat a pail full of warm, soapy water and an assortment of plump cushions. Atop a thick table sat a silver tray lined with a modest assortment of foodstuffs, a large golden pot and an array of smaller cups.

None of these items showed any evidence of use.

The dried tears lining the despondent alicorn's cheeks were all too obvious, her mane seemed noticeably dulled and her usually immaculate horn lacked its shine. Arcanus winced and looked away, shamed into silence at the mere sight of his idol in such an exposed and, dare he say it, pitiful state. He didn't deserve to see her highness like this. No one did.

He instead distracted himself by focusing on the statue. The magnificent stone carving depicted the royal sisters facing each other, with their right hooves outstretched and touching in the picture of symmetry. The figures' coats were painted in a basic contrast - one glowing white and the other deep black, with solid eyes of polished steel that matched the other's shade. At a guess, it was modeled after an old emblem Arcanus had seen in many philosophy texts - two adjacent raindrops in opposite colours, with a tiny piece of one present in the other.

As was the nature of such things, historians could never quite agree on what exactly this was supposed to mean, but the common interpretation was something like 'even the most fundamental opposites exist in a sort of interdependent tandem.' Some philosophers with a notable sense of humour had even taken to satirizing the inherently vague nature of the topic by casting the symbol in such ridiculous colours as blue and orange.

The weary princess slowly turned to face the quiet colt, and sighed obviously enough to break the silence and his thoughts alike. "I am sorry thou hadst to see that," she whispered, "We had no right to burden upon thee our affairs. For this, we feel naught but regret."

Arcanus seized up and stood anxiously at attention. The hollow tone of self-loathing in the disheveled princess's voice was undeniable, and in his self-conscious paranoia, gave the discomforting impression of unwantedness. As though his lowly presence was making matters worse. "N-nay. Not at all, your highness." He held his stoic facade and kept his eyes very much to the floor.

"Do not fear for me, young one. I think I'll survive." He looked up to find the princess wearing that all-knowing smile again with her hoof outstretched invitingly. He could feel the involuntary frown he'd failed to suppress even now, but was his pity really that obvious? "I encourage of thee to speak thy mind. Thou hast witnessed us in such an embarrassing state. Formality need not influence thy composure."

He looked toward the door uncertainly. "I... promised the guard..."

"To not 'burden me with the mundane.' I heard." Celestia frowned, noticing Arcanus had bowed his head. She cleared her throat, attracting his attention long enough to notice her signal to rise. "Noble young Aegis, the guard outside the door, has much on his mind. Thou must understand that he represents the pinnacle of royal guard philosophy. Unwavering loyalty to us, my sister in particular, that runs deeper than family." She gave him a knowing smile. "Not unlike thy dedication to our tutelage. Having lost one princess, he hath dedicated himself to ensuring he doth not lose the other."

Arcanus returned the smile, relieved at the princess's sudden rise in mood and his own along with it. "Your highness, there are... things I wish to know," he almost squeaked, diverting his gaze and fidgeting to steady his nerves. "If... if I may."

"I would assume they concern our prior engagement," Celestia stated with little inflection, leaving Arcanus rather unsure if he should continue. She sighed, shaking her head in reservation. Would she ever get over that night's events if she couldn't talk about them with someone she trusted? "... Please, do not hesitate. We risked thy life by requesting thy presence earlier. There are... things concerning this night thou dost deserve to know. Consider me an open book before thee."

With a deep sigh, Arcanus nodded and pushed his comfort zone. He'd know soon enough if this was reaching too far. "... What pushed her highness Princess Luna to do what she did?"

Celestia shut her eyes and rolled them, in that order. It figured he'd skip to the thicker chapters, but that was the way he had been taught... that she had taught him. To identify the premise of the issue by diving straight to its heart, and letting everything else fall into place. This was probably for the best.

"That's... easily explained," she lied. There was nothing easy about it, but she managed. "Thou dost remember that black book?" Arcanus nodded as the ruined text appeared between the two ponies with a flash, floating silently toward the colt at the princess's will. "'Tis badly damaged, but read from it what you will, and tell me."

Arcanus briefly ran his eyes back and forth down what few pages remained, filling in missing halves of words where he could, before realizing: "This book describes..."

"Dark magic," Celestia finished. "'Or rather, evil magic. In her normal frame of mind, Luna would detest the implication that her night was in any way associated with evil."

Arcanus nodded knowingly, having no trouble recalling the tendency for fiction to overlap the two.

"'Tis an academic text," the princess continued her expository spiel, "written to describe its sources, and the effects of exposure to it. 'Twas intended as a learning resource for royal knights and researchers, should they find themselves faced with such elements in the future. Unfortunately, such information indirectly enables one with a studious mind to discern ways to apply it."

Arcanus raised an eyebrow, largely for effect. The princess's words described a rather basic concept, and he'd figured it out easily. "So by studying a guide to dark magic, her highness... deduced how to access it?"

Celestia smiled sadly, but her pride as a teacher shone through all the same, albeit fleetingly. "Indeed. Evidently, my sister believed she could handle the burden... whatever effect a saturation of dark magic has upon the mind."

She turned completely away from her company, and fixed her eyes upon the statue once again. The smile dropped. The ancient monument almost mockingly represented a unity that had, in the course of a single night and a few bad decisions, become mere history.

"... Perhaps, in her anger, she simply didn't think things through... didn't consider the consequences." The princess hunched slightly and trembled. "Blind to all but spurious accusation, she succumbed to the unknown for an inkling of power she didn't need!"

Arcanus winced and jerked his head away as the infernal book burst into a plume of white flame mere inches from his face. Celestia snapped her head around, scowling at what her brief rage had done.

"Art thou alright?"

Arcanus nodded weakly, forcing a goofy grin onto his face. "I-I'm fine, your highness."

Celestia looked to the floor in shame, coughing awkwardly. She could add 'losing her temper and endangering a student' to the list of mistakes for the evening. "I... am sorry, Arcanus."

"T-think nothi-"

"Though it is perhaps for the best that I vented that anger. However, I had no right to endanger thee again."

"'Tis alright-"

"Wouldst thou forgive me?"

Arcanus had to hold back the 'Princess!' interjection he had prepared. Instead, he bowed formally and assured her with no hesitation: "'Tis done, your highness." He held off the 'everypony makes mistakes' part; something about that felt insolent and judgmental. "It is I who should be seeking forgiveness, for... for knowingly speaking of these matters at such time."

Celestia laughed and shook her head. "Nonsense, I shan't hear another word to this effect. It is my invitation to thee, as my loyal student, to inquire on such things. Thou hast earned that right. Now, to move on to more pertinent matters, art thou satisfied with thy question's resolution?"

"Yes, your highness."

"And dost thou have another?"

"... Yes, your highness. Two, in fact."

Celestia nodded, trotting casually over to the bucket of water and levitating the drenched, soapy cloth. "By all means," she said, gently applying the soothing towel to one of her many wounds.

"What happened to her highness in the end?"

Without uttering a word, the princess fell silent and proceeded to the window, motioning for Arcanus to follow. She unceremoniously threw the curtain open. The night had lasted long past its natural time frame, a fact she would attend to later, and as such the moon was still in full view. She pointed to the rather overt dark patch etched into it, the appropriately titled lunar maré, which curiously took the form of... a pony?

"I couldn't bring myself to do it," Celestia whispered reflectively, more like thought aloud, "Despite her transgressions, she is still my sister, and will be as such from now 'til forever. Her words, her actions, were not her own." She gave the colt a look that made it clear she wasn't really certain of that, but convinced herself of it anyway. The alternative, while possible, was too much to bear.

"She... her highness, I mean... is in the moon?" Arcanus whispered incredulously, as the sheer absurdity of it would be laughable had it not come from Celestia herself. Ah, but it had, and that in turn suddenly rendered his rather simplistic wording woefully inadequate.

Celestia nodded very gradually, the resigned way one would were they deciding to break a vow they'd held for decades. "I believed all she needed was the opportunity to allow her emotions to settle. With a clear mind, I am sure she will be open to peaceful discourse. Also, if luck is in our favour, the evil magic misguiding her will expire in time."

She emphasized that last word rather bleakly, which the colt couldn't resist the pedantic urge to question. "May I ask... how much time?"

Celestia grimaced. "... Understand that it could be years, or decades," she admitted just as much to herself as the colt beside her. "Beyond thy lifetime, Arcanus. Beyond the lifetimes of thy furthest descendants. They will live and die many times over, while I remain in wait of my sister's return. For the sake of thy conscience, I wouldst not advise thou concern thyself with the far future." Her frown lightened as Arcanus looked away apologetically. "'Tis alright, young one. Just one aspect of immortality. A rather..." she broke the formal mood by twirling her hoof in the air, a colloquial representation of trying to find the right word, "... different sense of scale. Thou hast no need to grieve for us."

Arcanus retreated to silence, watching as the princess returned to the table and set about pouring a drink from the large urn. She sniffed at the scalding substance, visibly twitching as the steam invaded her sinuses. She raised the cup, but abruptly lowered it inches before taking a sip. "Didst thou not have one more question?"

Arcanus nodded, quietly approaching the table. Without prompt, he began to scan the various fruits and sugary snacks as though he'd only just noticed them. The extraordinary ordeal had distracted his wine-driven hunger for too long, and now was the time to chow down. Despite his ever-present demeanor of restraint, he had relaxed enough to trim down his assertion of the tray's contents from 'that's the princess's food' to 'that's food.'

Celestia smiled gently and nodded reassuringly. "By all means, enjoy."

Without hesitation he did just that, hastily seizing a pomegranate and picking away at it hungrily. In a short time his voracious frenzy had fallen back into a relaxed, good-mannered pace, but Celestia merely watched with seemingly limitless patience and more than a hint of amusement. She continued to sniff hesitantly at her own cup, 'savouring' its aroma, but never once drank from it.

The discomposed colt stopped gorging on water just long enough to meet the princess's gaze. He laughed uneasily at her unnervingly glamorous smile and hung his head respectfully.

"If thou art sufficiently revitalized," Celestia teased, lightheartedly cutting off his attempt to excuse himself, "wouldst thou not hesitate to ask whatever else is on thy mind? We have a schedule to keep," she winked and motioned toward the moon with a painfully forced laugh, "lest the night indeed last forever."

"'Tis done," the colt quickly chimed in before the princess's impromptu, cynical joke could drag the mood down. "What 'task' did your highness intend to ask of me earlier, before..." He coughed awkwardly and stopped there.

"I was wondering when thou wouldst recall that," The wise princess smiled knowingly, likewise forcing the positive mood to stay intact. "'Tis in fact the reason I asked for thy presence at this time. We indeed have a task we wouldst request of thee, following the conclusion of thy study."

As before, Arcanus tensed up and saluted formally. He was prepared, perhaps blindly so, to carry out whatever this mystery task was before even hearing it. Imitating military behaviour? Celestia mused, He's been watching the knights too much...

"At ease, soldier," she said with a playful smirk, "our assignment is both voluntary and decidedly non-military." She nodded approvingly as her student relaxed his hoof, despite his eyes retaining that sense of recalcitrant discipline usually found in the more experienced royal knights. Had he even heard the word voluntary in there?

"Your highness need only name it, and it is done."

Celestia pursed her lips and shrugged. "There is one very specific avenue of study we wouldst ask of thee to pursue." Arcanus didn't react, but the princess sighed nonetheless. She hadn't dropped the more... inflammatory detail yet. "Full-time, to the exclusion of thine other studies."

Arcanus immediately broke formal conduct, his mind suddenly ablaze with conjecture and paranoia. There were a dozen different reasons why the princess would see fit to ask this of him, and none of them sat particularly well.

Questions regarding her intent swam chaotically in his head; questions like 'Why wouldst your highness ask this of me?' or 'What have I done to warrant such penance as for your highness to suspend my studies?' Or better yet... "Your highness, what avenue could possibly be so specific, and..."

Important? Imminent? Relevant?

"... demanding as to require my full attention, to the possible detriment of all else?"

"Love," she said simply. Arcanus's eyes went wide, rebelliously so, but if the princess noticed she didn't see fit to comment. "Thou art the most promising apprentice by which we have ever been honoured. Thy potential for learning hast never been rivaled, and probably never will be. However, academic study is not the essence, the be-all-end-all of life. A mortal lifetime is incomplete, unfulfilled, without the magic of friendship... and love.

"I am admitting my own inability to experience one of the joys of thy mortality. I will be honest with you, Arcanus, as I always have been. Immortality has precluded me from truly living out a mutually full romantic companionship with another pony. They would grow old, and after a heartwarmingly sincere farewell, they would die. What mortals only truly experience once, we - my sister and I - have enjoyed, and suffered repeatedly, and will continue to do so. She was the only long-term companion I ever truly had, and the bond of friendship carried us through the maddening ages. Now that even she is gone, I am alone."

Arcanus watched her warily, silently processing the information and eagerly, but patiently, awaiting the 'point' of this lecture. Fascinating as it was, the age old alicorn was clearly expositing at length to set up for a major point at the end.

"In so many words, Arcanus, I am asking of thee to not throw thy life away. There is more to a young pony's life than studying. Thou hast already seen the power that true friendship can bestow upon its bearers, and even Equestria itself was founded upon it. To study love would be to do us both, and the kingdom, great favour. But, as we said, it is thy choice and thy choice alone. All we have done is offer to thee an opportunity, not a royal order. Thou dost not have to decide immediately."

With a satisfied sigh, Celestia fell silent and sniffed once more at her cup, allowing her disciple a quiet moment to consider her words. Just as she had broken the ice and laid down her offer, so too was she ready to...

"Bleuch," she practically spat, though remaining graceful enough not to make a mess. Arcanus snapped out of his brooding to grin sincerely. Her highness Princess Celestia, the immovable picture of discipline and wisdom, gagged audibly and scowled at the floating cup and the sickeningly sweet liquid it held.

With little more than a raised eyebrow, the grinning colt leaned over the golden urn and cautiously took a sniff. The sweet, delicious smell signalled for him to smile at the irony, the decision at hoof falling by the wayside to be handled later after he sought the counsel of rest. "... Tea? Pray pardon, but didst your highness not... express a distaste for tea?"

Celestia pouted, but soon joined in the laughter as she took one last look at the moon. "Aye," the rugged way she pronounced that one syllable only made Arcanus laugh harder. "I figured I would try it my sister's way for once, but... I suppose I could get used to it."

No Place Like Home

Arcanus paced silently, watching as the working class villagers of Everfree assembled within what remained of their town under royal knight escort. The confusion and horror played out very clearly across their faces, and the unfortunate extent of the sisters' bitter struggle for dominance became clear to the brooding colt. He frowned at the thought of the strain it would put on the princess's conscience to know that her actions, honorable and forced as they had been, had contributed to this.

In a mere hour, the village and everything in it had been reduced to smoking ruin. Books, treasures, memories, all of it - indiscriminately destroyed as collateral damage by a fight its denizens had nothing to do with. Younger foals looked on in naive confusion, while older colts and fillies alike merely stared blankly as the shock of their new reality began to sink in. In no time at all, hysteria had its disorienting grip upon the crowd. Some cried in despair, others angrily lashed out for an explanation. Why had they been forcefully removed from their village, only to return to find their homes and most cherished possessions demolished?

The knights and royal disciples zipped back and forth in a stressed frenzy, doing their best to contain the uproar with vague assurances of welfare and compensation. However, it was obviously a losing battle. One had noticed Arcanus's presence, and quietly approached him to implore: "Wouldst ye please ask her highness to speak? These villagers will not listen to reason."

Who could blame them? Arcanus sighed, recalling the princess's words. "Her highness hath informed me that she would make her appearance when she is ready," he spoke with straightforward neutrality, aided significantly by the fact he was heralding royal orders. "Until then, ye art commanded to defend and ensure the comfort of the village."

One of the younger soldiers, a yellow coated unicorn with a brown mane and barely older than Arcanus himself, scowled at him. "And what village would that be?" he drawled sarcastically, but the stress was all too evident in his eyes. "Besides, what hast thou been doing this past hour, while I have endured the restless questioning of these commoners after all but evicting them from their homes? What hast thou done to help? And thou hast the audacity to 'command' me?"

The fires of confidence burned out as Arcanus was thrown on the hindhoof by this blatant challenge. He looked away and slipped back to brooding. He pondered whether his tone was too firm, or his approach overly forward, or that he had given the impression the orders were his own-

"Hold thy tongue," the commanding knight - an indigo-coated earthpony - growled at his youthful subordinate, to Arcanus's surprise. "Hast thou forgotten thy place? What about thine honor? I would pray that, at the very least, thou hast not forgotten that Sir Arcanus here is the son of Lady Silvermane?"

The young soldier shrunk away immediately at his commander's iron-laced tone. "C-Captain Sir Irontail..."

"Tell me this, young Golden Ace. What dost thou know of Madam Silvermane?"

"Th... the Lady..." he stammered, fortunately recalling this name specifically. Many young soldiers hailed from the peerage or gentry, or had at least served them once, and were often privy to overhearing the gossip of the elite - where names like Silvermane were dropped on occasion. "Lady Silvermane... lady laird of the Silvermane Manor."

Irontail nodded, but it wasn't in approval. "So, Sir Arcanus here, being her eldest colt, would hold what status in her court?"

Golden Ace gulped, sweating profusely. Easy enough question though. "First heir..."

"Prithee, Captain Irontail..." Arcanus attempted to excuse his supposed assailant. The forthcoming lecture was on a matter he had specifically avoided over the years, and it wasn't worth letting someone be abused over it.

"Very good," the knight captain continued the condescending lecture, showing no notice of the intervention, "And, wouldst thou care to summarize thine heritage?"

"... My parents serve in the manor of Lord Inken Quill. At their request, I was enlisted in the Canterlot Military after coming of age, with the personal blessing-"

Irontail rose a hoof sharply, cutting him off. "That is all, Ace. I need only hear thy parentage. Now, think hard about this one..."

"Captain, with... with due respect..." Arcanus tried again, somehow even quieter than last time.

Irontail just smiled wickedly, as though enjoying hammering a subordinate into the ground like this. "If thou art the unknighted son of two servants while Sir Arcanus here is the first-in-line heir to a landowner, wouldst thou be able to... enlighten me on something thou hast forgotten?" He raised his forehooves alternately, as though weighing something. "A form of address, perhaps? Maybe befitting conduct? ... Or how about knowing thy bucking place?"

"Captain Sir Irontail, it... it is quite alright," Arcanus declared as sternly as he could, bowing courteously before nodding assuringly toward the visibly shaken colt. "I do not wish to impose. Golden Ace hast..." he fumbled as the commander's hardened gaze fell upon him for a brief instant, "... hast made a fine point. Her highness Princess Celestia hath asked of thee to ward and escort these villagers to Canterlot, where they are to be provided... with..."

Arcanus trailed off as the crowd seemed to stop listening, their whispers and shuffling dying away in favour of kneeling in unison toward the broken castle's arched doorway. With a raised eyebrow he looked that way, to find Celestia herself had emerged. Her coat was somewhat dirtied and her lifelike eyes had an unsettling distance to them, but her presence still commanded the voice of serenity to even the most unruly crowds of angry peasants.

"Fair villagers," she began, voice low and reserved. She surveyed the ruined village with a keen eye, bowing and shaking her head as the bitter realization set in. As seemed to be the pattern for that night, this was her fault. Hindsight lent to her a simple epiphany: she could have easily lured her sister away from the castle, or into the air. "We are deeply sorry for what horror hath been wrought upon you tonight. For our indiscretion, ye shalt be consoled and compensated for your losses by the Kingdom of Canterlot." She suddenly fixed her eyes upon Arcanus, startling the poor colt almost out of his skin. "Young Arcanus, please tell these fillies and gentlecolts what hath befallen us tonight."

He blinked a few times in pure confusion, before stage fright set in. Relaying royal verdict was one thing, but she actually wanted him to deliver such traumatic news as the loss of a monarch? The princess had surreptitiously put him on the spot, too. Before the public eye, he was in no position to debate the issue, which saw him nervously face the crowd and clear his throat.

"Her... her highness, Princess Luna..." Now, how would be word this? There were many ways to articulate this - subtly obscure the whole truth, or come clean and risk being misunderstood? His eyes focused desperately on Celestia, who had already looked away to quietly make some unknown inquiries with Irontail and the other knights. Heh, he was on his own. "Her highness, Princess Luna, is... no longer with us."

One earthpony in the crowd narrowed his eyes at this wimpy looking herald, borderline threateningly. "And that means what, exactly?" Apparently their spontaneous restraint only lasted as long as the princess had her eyes on them, in spite of Irontail's rather harsh lecture.

"Princess Luna no longer holds royal capacity as an active ruler of Equestria. Must Sir Arcanus repeat himself?" a young, fiery voice cut through the tension on the colt's behalf. Arcanus looked at its owner in bewilderment, wondering why Golden Ace would come to his aid. Nonetheless, he smiled. The impromptu backup had seen the agitated earthpony back off.

Nodding in acknowledgement to the question, Arcanus cleared his throat again to stall while he found his wording. "Due to... extenuating circumstances," he said, stretching the truth a bit. "As deemed by her highness Princess Celestia, Princess Luna hath conducted herself in a manner that hath warranted her... temporary removal from power."

On one hoof, he sighed internally in immense relief at having conjured up such a formal delivery on the spot. On the other... he'd just hinted at Celestia having overthrown her sister. Even the shallowest imagination could, and would, find ways to twist that into sinister intent. His elevated spirits quickly tapered off as he looked over the crowd, who had already begun suspiciously muttering to each other. What few guards weren't being grilled by the princess did the same, while the assembly of royal disciples merely looked to their teacher reservedly. Even Golden Ace, his unexpected supporter, eyed him with baffled uncertainty.

With impeccable timing, Celestia ended her questioning and turned to face the crowd. Whether she heard the collective gasp and intended to pre-empt any commotion, or if it was simply coincidence, Arcanus wasn't sure. Her intervention was timely, regardless.

"In preparation for our march to Canterlot, ye art to be granted a period with which to search your homes for intact possessions and anything else ye wouldst wish to preserve." She casually looked at the formation of knights, who saluted following whatever instruction they had discussed. "All soldiers present are to assist at your request. Saddles and carrybags, as well as fresh food and water, will be provided from the castle's surviving stores."

The sea of ponies dissipated without incident and began to eagerly sift through the broken rubble of their homes, seemingly forgetting the matter of Luna's 'abdication' for the time being. Arcanus settled beneath a scorched tree and watched in silence, faced with the tragic sight of poor families weeping over the loss of what little they had. Even the bolder, more outspoken farmers of earlier were reduced to quivering victims when faced with the fact that their home was nothing more than a pile of rubble.

He sighed heavily as he caught sight of a crying foal trying to push a broken rafter off what appeared to be the frayed remains of a doll, sobbing harder with every passing moment as she failed to get her parents' attention. An uncomfortable brew of anger and remorse, despite his own lack of fault, bubbled up in Arcanus's stomach as he extended a gentle dash of magic, lifting the splintered wood just long enough for the little pegasus girl to rescue the toy.

"This tragedy... 'Twas not necessary. It could have been avoided," Celestia spoke softly as she sat beside the colt, who had not noticed her approach, and gazed upon the scene. "Luna's fall, the loss of my little ponies' livelihood... all of it. I could have prevented it, had I focused on what is truly important. My dear sister is suffering an undeserved fate trapped beneath that mask she hath constructed, and banishment may only worsen her torment."

"Princess, please... do not bemoan what hath happened." His heart skipped a beat as he looked away, feeling the urge to throttle himself for saying that. Celestia's introspective gaze lightened as she focused on the uncomfortable colt beside her. "What... what I meant was..."

"Arcanus," she interjected gently, "If thou wouldst not mind, I now have a question for thee. Dost thou believe I did the right thing?"

He seized up and, on instinct, sighed to relax his nerves before responding in a slow, formal monotone. What was he supposed to say to that? "Your highness, in your wisdom, I would assert that ye resolved this occurrence by the best means."

Celestia nodded, but simpered rather clearly as she went over his generic response in her mind. "... I wish to know what thou dost believe, in thine own words." Did this colt genuinely fear her? Would everypony else fear her when they learned she technically usurped her sister's throne? Sure, most of her subjects held her in overly high regard, to the point where personally connecting with some of them was all but impossible, but to be truly feared as a despot... the very thought made her sick.

Arcanus sighed, but muffled it as much as he could. He didn't think his textbook answer would make it through, but he'd hoped it would all the same. My lowly opinion of her highness's thinking..? "Ye..." he responded without thinking it through, leading him to stare at the burnt grass while trying to compose himself. "Ye... ye tried to reason with her highness, Princess Luna. It was her..." he looked up at the huge alicorn overshadowing him, met her eyes, and swallowed audibly, "... stubborn disposition and rigidity that led you to respond as ye did. For what it may be worth, with circumstances considered..." He cringed, realising too late that improvisation probably wasn't necessary, "I believe ye did indeed do the right thing."

Celestia puckered her lips and nodded, slowly standing. "Well, I must thank thee for thy confidence, Arcanus. It means more to me than thou wouldst think. May I ask of thee to see if thou canst further assist the villagers? I must tend to some personal matters within the castle, lest we leave anything valuable behind."

"Of course, your highness." He bowed to her retreating form, but suddenly called out: "One more question, if I may?"

Celestia turned and merely nodded.

"We are to simply leave the castle?"

She nodded again. "After what hath transpired on this night, the memories contained herein are rather painful. I do not need to live out the years until my sister's return with a constant reminder of what I was forced to do. In fact..." She turned to face him once more, and her face took on a rigid regal formality. "Thou art not to tell anypony of the Elements of Harmony. It is for the best that they stay here, sealed in stone, until the day... the time comes when which they are needed once more."

Arcanus lowered his head submissively, speaking without hesitation. "Consider it done."

With a subtle nod, Celestia waved and left the colt to his thoughts once again. He returned his attention to the ruined castle - a certain window in particular - and realised that he actually knew very little about the Elements. For someone who took pride in studying and learning as much as he could, the enigmatic artifacts represented a gap in his wisdom.

Though after witnessing such a frightening display of their power, he now understood why.

*******

"A pleasant journey, Sir?" the unicorn butler asked in a professional drone as the candle hung by his magic illuminated the visitor's face - that of his young master. Sweeping his turquoise mane aside, he bowed and genuflected before unlatching the deadbolt and opening the door fully.

"My thanks, Night Watch. Indeed it was. A rather serene evening for travel," Arcanus replied, managing a polite smile despite breathing raggedly. He slipped inside and took a much-needed deep breath, taking in the inviting fragrance of the well-kept manor. The wide, dimly lit hallway was a hospitable sight to his fatigued eyes, and the fluffy carpet cradled his worn hooves gently. The one place in Equestria he could truly relax - the family estate.

'No place like home.'

The immortal words indeed rang true, and brought a fond smile to his face. Prior to tonight's... ordeal, he hadn't been scheduled to return home for months, which only made this unexpected luxury all the sweeter. Sure, the Royal Everfree Library was remarkably hospitable and incredibly conducive to hours of relentless, fervent study, but sometimes he needed to unwind and a refreshing change of locale was just the answer.

After all, he could study just as relentlessly, just as fervently, in his own private library at home.

Night Watch hummed concordantly, leaning out the door to sniff at the cool dusk - what should have been early morning - air, before shutting it and refitting the locks. "Albeit a lengthy one, it would appear..." he mused thoughtfully of the curiously 'late' sunrise as he removed the colt's torn cloak. Aided by the flickering candle, he caught a glimpse of the youth's faded injury. "Forgive me Sir, but are ye alright?"

The sleepy colt looked over his body for a moment, before mentally facehoofing as he 'remembered' the burn on his leg. "Oh... 'tis fine, Night Watch. I am in no pain, I assure thee." His reddened hoof, grazed and sore from repeated encounters with stray twigs and sharp grass, throbbed persistently to the contrary. His stomach, never one to disappoint, got in on the act by rumbling softly at the same time. They shared a sheepish smile as he rubbed the back of his clingy, sweat-ridden mane. "... On, eh, second thought, I wouldst ask of thee for some water."

He opened his saddlebag and presented the servant with a small hoof-ful of bits for services rendered, before adding, "Oh, and one question. Has my mother woken?" Her routine was to rise at the crack of dawn, but he couldn't depend on that when the dawn itself was behind schedule.

Night Watch nodded, accepting the payment and bowing graciously. "Indeed, Sir. Her ladyship rose within the hour. I believe ye wouldst find her in the great hall."

Arcanus nodded. "Very well. Please inform the maids that I will be joining her shortly, and to... to..." his composure and articulation fell by the wayside in favour of a mighty yawn, "... prepare... breakfast and... bedchamber. My bedchamber."

"Certainly. Goodnight, Sir," Night Watch concluded, suppressing a smile as he trotted gingerly down one of the many branching hallways and leaving the lighter unicorn to his thoughts.

Making his way down the main hallway at a moderate limp, Arcanus weighed the night's events in his mind. He'd passed the exam and 'exceeded the kingdom's greatest hopes.' That a was a plus! Then he watched the royal sisters go at each other's throats, which left one of them stuck on the moon. That... really wasn't. Also, there was the matter of the little request the princess had hit him with at the end. Academic curiosity and antisocial disinterest fought for their perspective on that, leaving nothing but uncertainty.

Worse was the fact he apparently had the choice, which he interpreted as more like having to choose, as opposed to the princess simply giving an order and expecting him to adhere - which in a way, would have been simpler. Stopping abruptly, he shook his head to shake off the thoughts like frayed webs in his mind. He could think seriously about that later. For now, the task at hoof was immediate - find his mother, tell her he was home and why the sun stopped working, have something to eat and get to bed.

The smile that had so briefly graced his features at the thought of sleep degenerated to a scowl as an obnoxious giggle wafted from the nearby, slightly ajar door. He darted his eyes left and right warily, before nervously edging closer and pressing his ear to it. He easily made out a pair of voices, identifying the deeper of the two with a contemptuous sigh.

Brother, he thought of the spoiled colt, what art thou up to?

He went back over the internal inquiry and scrapped it as superfluous. He knew the answer. Prism. The elder of his siblings: a handsome - he begrudgingly admitted - unicorn, blessed with a flashy silver coat complimented by an unruly gold mane, and rounded out nicely by a pair of enticingly green eyes that masked the spoiled twit within.

Assuming his looks were still intact, so to was his hobby. The past year, he had taken an insatiable enjoyment to the company of fillies, tricking his way into their inebriated hearts by playing the disingenuous charm card. To make matters worse, he would often return with his drunkenly giggling 'escorts' at an immodest hour, without a care in the world, before lazily sleeping into the mid- to late hours of the following afternoon.

Arcanus merely shook his head, feeling a weighty mass of shame bubble from his very being at having any relation at all to that wasteful foal. Nonetheless, his eavesdropping continued unabated, leading him to hear a delightful exchange.

"J-just move!" the filly instructed in an obvious slur, her elevated tone nonetheless surprising Arcanus in its... clarity. Relative clarity, of course - considering she was clearly drunk and engaged in... well, what he presumed she was engaged in. "D-do it f-faster! Don't... keep me waiting..."

A deep, somewhat exasperated breath was her reply, followed by the notably deeper - and more sober - voice of Prism. "Don't... rush me. Just... just lemme..." he lazily mashed the words together, proving he wasn't above the influence either, "lemme get in position."

On and on the context-less exchange went, leading Arcanus to ponder a rather deep philosophical question. How can they find the ti-, he paused his internal monologue as an ecstatic "take it!" rang quite unwantedly in his ears. How can they find the time to talk so much?

Yet between gags of disgust, which his efforts to mute almost sent the colt off balance more than once, he felt a spontaneous burst of clarity - enough to think about things from another angle. A possibility he hadn't considered. The rising waves of nausea were stilled in a heartbeat as the simple brilliance and hilarity of this sudden realisation practically bucked him in the face.

Of course, he groaned at his 'literary blindness.' 'Twill merely be a matter of the mundane!

The situation practically screamed poetic irony to the curious colt, who found himself unable to resist the urge to confirm his suspicions. He looked back and forth once again to make sure his efforts to spy weren't being spied on, and stealthily poked his head through the door.

He quickly spotted, just as he had figured, a game board with its pieces arranged inconsistently - abandoned mid-game, obviously. Next to the board sat two empty wine glasses, but the players in question were curiously absent. The voyeuristic colt investigated further, leaning around to get a look at where he recalled the bed to be...

... And withdrew immediately with an audible gag, regretting the whole ordeal. By Celestia, did he regret it. Heh, so much for drunken chess. He shook his head violently, as to deny the faint flush suddenly rising in his cheeks, until the erratic blood flow rendered him dizzy and weak at the knees. He slapped his forehead, repeatedly, to force the images of his brother and a mare - a married mare, he later recalled - in the throes of passion into the deep abyss where they belonged.

He hurried on without care for his aching hoof, eager to put as much distance between that room and his sanity as possible. At a brisk canter, the remainder of the trip to the great hall was uneventful, save for the occasional early rising groom to whom he nodded halfheartedly. Weaving his way through the vacant trestle tables, his attention instead reserved for the high table, at which a rather illustrious mare was dining in solitude.

Approaching silently, Arcanus grinned affectionately as his mother remained blissfully unaware, intentionally treading heavier with each step to get her attention.

"Arcanus?" she asked uncertainly, looking up at this youth who had boldly caught her by surprise at the crack of what was supposed to be dawn. Pulling away from her manchet for a moment, she cleared her throat and flicked at her monocle, smiling broadly as though that slight adjustment had suddenly made his identity clear. "Oh, dutiful Arcanus, my dear! What hast-" she coughed lightly, "-what hast brought thee to us at this hour?"

He bowed respectfully, trying to remain formally indifferent despite the massive grin plastered to his face. He'd been longing to return home more than he'd realised, and his mother's warm reception threatened to reduce him to an embarrassingly giddy foal. She was exactly as he remembered. Her coat was a slightly darker shade of gray than his own, her long silver mane done up in two buns, with the remainder flowing loosely down just past her neck, while her elderly eyes were as deep blue pools indicative of both wisdom and flair.

Unfortunately, on this occasion she was blessed by candlelight rather than the gentle sunrise, which helped to expose her aged features and wrinkles, but Arcanus forced that unflattering observation down and answered: "'Tis a rather involved story, Madam. Her highness, Princess Celestia, is here also."

The elderly mare's refined, aristocratic disposition flipped over to wide-eyed shock, triggering another hacking cough. "P-Princess Celestia..." she repeated shallowly. She was expected to entertain the princess now? The urgent tasks suddenly at hoof popped into her mind, one by one as though declaring their individual importance, and underlining what she already knew. This called for drastic measures, and panic. "We... we must prepare the great chamber, notify all hands--"

Arcanus facehoofed at his indiscretion. "Nay, madam..."

"-stall her at the door-"

"... Madam?"

"-doth her highness indulge herself in our finest tea-"

Arcanus shook his head, closing the distance between them in a heartbeat to lay a reassuring hoof across his restless mother's back. She was barely out of bed, and already he'd worked her into a frenzy. Not to mention he did not like that unhealthy cough, especially since he was making it worse. "Madam, I merely mean she hath returned to Canterlot, not... here, here."

She stopped her frantic stride long enough to process the false alarm and sighed with relief, retaking her seat at the table. "Oh. Thou shouldst have told me that sooner, dear..." she whispered, returning the smile as her heightened breathing slowed. "So... for what reason art thou home? Thy tutelage under her highness shan't conclude until..."

"A hair's breadth shy of two months," Arcanus finished for her, taking his place at his mother's right as he spied the band of maids approaching with a shiny plate packed with food and water suspended between them. He eyed the assortment of his personal delicacies and smiled, knowing beyond doubt they hadn't forgotten his tastes. "On a positive note, the penultimate exam was tonight."

"'Tis good to hear of that, my dear," she praised him casually without making eye contact, as though the news came as no surprise to her.

"Many thanks-" he began, but stopped just as quickly with a raised eyebrow. Had he missed something? "... uh, are ye not going to ask after the result?"

She hummed around a mouthful of bread, eying him questioningly. Quickly swallowing, she clarified, "I wouldst have assumed that, as a prodigy of her highness, thy success was all but assured." She smiled with smug parental pride, opening one eye after a few moments of silence to find her son staring at her thoughtlessly. "Oh, I mean, by all means, my dear. What of thy result?"

The modest colt let slip a rare dose of pride, evidenced by his self-satisfied smile. "Complete success." Now, did he go a step further? Ah, what the hay. His mother's pride in him was a source of happiness amidst her ailing health, so some light bragging to her benefit would be a noble act of good faith. "... 'Surpassed her greatest hopes,' actually. At least, her highness implied as such."

Silvermane gasped very lightly, but covered it with a cough and threw on a stoic facade. Her son was a disciplined genius, so why should she expect anything less? With a wink, she repeated, "... 'Tis good to hear of that, my dear. Now, without adieu, dost thou wish to tell thine old mother why thou hast returned home?"

Arcanus grew serious in an instant, shutting his eyes and rolling his shoulder. His mind swam back over the pertinent memories, before he decided the best starting point. "... Following the exam, her highness called me to her bedchamber." His mind's eye widened the moment he actually heard his own words aloud.

Silvermane's expression remained neutral and composed save for an arched eyebrow, apparently mature enough not to prod or make a joke at her son's questionable wording. Instead, she had but one question: "Princess Celestia personally entertained you... in one of the royal chambers?" Then again, it was by no means unusual for the more prestigious households to maintain public, showy chambers to entertain guests or showcase rare artwork.

Presumably, the old mare figured, the princess had hosted many guests and her son happened to be one of them. However, Arcanus merely shook his head at her assertion. A tiny spark of magic emitted from his flickering horn toward his plate, breaking apart a warm, chunky loaf of bread. "Not a bedchamber, madam. Her private bedchamber."

"... Why? For what purpose?" she inquired simply, seeing no reason to mince words. Two exclusive yet possible reasons for why her son had earned a private audience with a princess stood out clearly in her mind, together with the consequences of both. He was either honored, or in trouble.

"My lady, ye need not stress," he replied with a jovial laugh, waving a hoof to dismiss her overreaction. "Her highness sought of me a private audience to ask after our family, and to deliver to me a royal assignment."

Her ears perked, but she nonetheless relaxed at the confirmation her son wasn't in trouble. Then again, had she really expected any different? The obedient colt spoke highly of Princess Celestia almost obsessively, and the thought of him consciously displeasing her seemed increasingly ridiculous the more she reflected on it. Still, it was nice to know the princess thought of them enough to inquire to their benefit... and this 'task' she had set for her son aroused her interest. "And what of this royal assignment?"

"She did not elaborate immediately. We were... well, interrupted." Now for the fun part! Arcanus rolled his mind's eye, as his actual eyes followed suit. The smallest piece of bread on his plate glowed with the black aura of his will, slowly rising to float in front of his snout. He took a deep, appreciative breath of the inviting scent of freshness, putting off continuing the story as long as possible.

Indeed, the next part of the story stirred darkly in the colt's mind, as though a truth that should never be revealed. Alas, he was going to reveal it, and it didn't help that he still wasn't content with the fact it happened at all. Still, it was going to come out eventually - and no amount of procrastination would avert that. Frowning, he dropped his tone to a low, almost secretive mumble and admitted, "... Her highness, Princess Luna, attempted to overthrow the sun court over a personal matter."

The air came out of his mother's lungs and her jaw dropped from the shock, before she caught the break in her demeanor and jammed it shut... with her hoof. "She what?"

The solemn colt sighed and nodded, refusing to voice that dark truth a second time. "Ye art wondering why the night persists," he stated, knowing full well the answer he'd receive were it a question. He coughed and elaborated, convincingly playing the role of royal announcer: "... Princess Luna's grief with the kingdom. She refused to lower the moon, for her desire was to bring a night that never ends. For her misconduct, she was..." He let that hang, bleakly noticing the sun still hadn't risen. The whole ordeal must have left the princess exhausted. "... Let us say she is no longer princess of the night court."

"So, her highness, Princess Celestia is now our sole ruler..." Silvermane whispered as more of a voiced thought than an inquiry, as the loose ends of this newly created power vacuum slowly became clear to her. "Dost that mean her highness will preside over both courts from Canterlot?"

Arcanus nodded casually. He had been taught that Canterlot Castle was mostly ornamental, nonetheless kept fully furnished at all times, and was in fact where most of the royal treasury and artifacts were secured, including the famous Canterlot Tower and Sculpture Gardens. What he'd not been taught, but always assumed, was that its original purpose was the sun princess's own seat.

Presumably, the two sisters had eventually agreed - for whatever reason - to share their 'diurnal' rulership from a single location: Everfree.

Silvermane hummed thoughtfully, but regardless, the regret she spied in her son's eyes took precedence at this time. He'd been a witness to this historic, yet traumatic overturn, and his loyalty to the sun princess was deep and personal. She quickly moved past that iota of the discussion; she had her explanation anyway. "So, what did her highness wish to ask of thee?"

"Well..." Arcanus began, pausing awkwardly as he fumbled for the right wording to convey the mundanity of the matter. Deep down, he knew there was little point dancing around the subject, so being upfront with it was probably a prudent approach. "... Her highness asked of me to study... love."

Silvermane deadpanned, as though that one key word didn't register at first. Then the gears clicked together in her mind, causing her relaxed lips to curve into a rapidly widening smile. That was all there was to it? The grand task, given unto her eldest colt on behalf of the kingdom itself, was for him to find a... "Fillyfriend?" she declared, though with an obvious air of disbelief. This had to be a joke! "Thou surely jest! Her highness asked of thee to... find thyself a fillyfriend?"

Arcanus looked away, fighting a losing battle with the light blush suddenly burning across his grey cheeks. It only worsened when his mother began to giggle at his slow nod and nervous refusal to make eye contact. He'd been able to ignore the matter until now, but something about discussing it with his mother of all ponies had a way of dismantling his mental barriers of indifference and disinterest. "I-in a manner of speaking, my lady..."

He quickly summarized, in a nervous and shaky voice, the princess's little lecture regarding why he needed to undertake this task, glaring in embarrassed frustration as his mother's laughter grew slightly at his expense. Nonetheless, she calmed enough to provide a sincere reply.

"Well... I do believe that wouldst be a good thing for thee, my dear. There are certainly unhealthier endeavours in life than seeking the company of a mare."

"So... ye agree with her highness," he whispered dejectedly, still unsure himself of the idea's worth. Then again, what would he have done if his mother had agreed with his assessment anyway? Tell the princess 'no'?

"Most certainly. Thy brother, Prism, entertains his companions frequently..."

Arcanus looked her in the eye, overcome by momentary annoyance as his recent 'discovery' returned in all its unwelcome glory. "'Tis not the same, mother. He doth care little for them, really," he admonished spitefully, failing to remember in time the fact that his mother didn't like to take sides when he badmouthed his brothers.

Silvermane sighed weakly yet briefly, but it was enough for Arcanus to drive a proverbial hoof into his mouth up to the hock. Still, she didn't seem to dwell on it as she continued her point. "I would imagine her highness wants for thee to enjoy the pleasures of life, and to learn the joys of companionship without the distraction of academia. Am I right?" The ensuing silence all but answered for her. "I never had such a bond with thy father, but thou shouldst not inflict that loneliness to thyself. 'Twould break this old mare's heart, my dear."

Arcanus found himself in a rather awkward position with that. His refusal to go along with this whole thing apparently threatened to hurt his mother, and that wasn't going to happen. Still, he grasped at another aspect of the conversation to avoid having to admit that directly: "The... the princess did also mention her own personal curiosity regarding the subject..."

Silvermane nodded slowly and precisely, a simple yet powerful symbol of her own considerable wisdom. "Her highness, as thou didst say, cannot experience the... magic of love as we, as thou, shalt. Yet she remains faithful in it, as though she considers it a gift meant for mortality to enjoy. A gift she, like myself, would not want to see left to waste." She paused and gave a refined, yet somehow meaningful chuckle as she fixed her insightful eyes upon those of her son. "Make of this whatever thou wishest, Arcanus, but your old mother thinks she can see what her highness intends for thee."

"B-but how can I possibly... entertain a mare, madam?" he asked, desperately clinging to any straw that might let him avoid directly acknowledging his mother's impending victory in their 'debate.' Still, his question was a sound one. He would need to carefully meld charm, looks, humour, wit, intelligence, confidence... a whole host of things, and then deliver them tactfully to woo the affections of a lady.

At least, in his modest knowledge of such things - garnered from books, naturally - that was the case.

His mother whistled and smirked playfully. "Well, thou dost have thy father's looks. Ye all do," she added in reference to the brothers as a whole. "We need only introduce thee more formally to the aristocracy, and many a mare thine age would no doubt line up for thy favour. In fact..." she narrowed her eyes, gauging her eldest colt's discomfort and exploiting it, "I might have even found myself in that line, were I a younger lady. And, y'know, not thy mother."

Society Girl

"Hey, getting cold hooves again?" Silvermane muttered to the jittery colt at her side, nudging his shivering form when he refused to look up at her. Hardly the warmest of nights indeed, but it wasn't that. She frowned and looked to the dwindling line ahead; it was almost their turn, and he picked now to hesitate? "'Tis a... little late to back out now, dear. We talked about this, and thou didst agree rather wholly before."

"Nay, mother. I'll be fine," he replied in a shaky voice, knowing full well he sounded anything but. He continued to look away, in any direction but toward her inquisitive eyes, which certainly didn't help his case. "... I mean, I am fine."

"Yes, evidently so," she whispered with nil sincerity, tilting her head and arching an eyebrow at those empty words. All that confidence she'd watched... she'd helped him build, slowly and steadily, those past months? Gone. For whatever reason, it just wasn't there. This came as a surprise to the world-weary mare, for the boy's performance thus far had already evidenced his knack for 'fillychasing.'

Darn well should have, too. In her youth, she had been quite the fair catch herself if the proverbial line of colts who strove for her attention was any indication, and never once had to wrestle down an anxiety attack before going out with one. Had the allure been her looks? Hairstyle? That cute little eyelash flutter she had spent agonizing hours perfecting, only to use a grand total of twice?

All moot in her eyes. The boy was definitely her own, and wore all of her merits proudly whether he knew it or not. Plus, he had just that slightest dash of soft-spoken maturity, an appeal no doubt culled from his father - and one she'd had a major thing for back in the day.

In fact that weakness, along with a few smooth words and a fifth glass of champagne was pretty much the reason she had children.

An idea quickly came to mind as she shook her head to wipe the nostalgic grin off her face. The kid was upset about something, and what better way to coach it out than with a little prod? "... Tell me, kiddo. How many parties hast thou recently attended?"

"Two, this month past," Arcanus replied without thinking, sighing as he looked up at her. He'd been to at least a dozen since this whole ordeal began, but few of them merited more than a passing yawn. And besides, didn't she-? She'd proofread his reports to the princess, hoofpicked his entire wardrobe of formal attire and had even been his personal coach on the proper etiquette for 'fillychasing.' Of course she already knew. Yeah, expository banter to provoke reflection, nothing new there.

Silvermane nodded, gradually raising both eyebrows to imply... "Elaborate, please?"

"... The former," he drawled without a trace of enthusiasm, "Wedding of Sir Darkwater and Lady Flashsong. I learned not to drink the beer first, dancing is not for everypony, and..." he let that hang, but one look into his mother's eyes and the huge grin she was wearing made it clear there was no avoiding this. "Lady Flashsong's youngest sister, Lady Roselyn, doth wear lipstick in the flavour of iced coffee, and is an... aggressive kisser."

He found that with the memory, the giant smile on his mother's face had effectively spread to his own, and despite his best efforts, he couldn't suppress it. The benefit of hindsight really did let one laugh at even their most embarrassing memories. He took a moment to breathe deeply, carefully choosing his next words before beginning again.

"The latter, masquerade ball," he said, more jovially this time, "I wore a simple, hoof-crafted mask, adorned with silver plating and an emerald... and then a particularly drunk stallion mistook me for a filly." He looked away and shuffled uncomfortably, cursing the faint blush spreading across his cheeks and praying no one else heard that part. "After... escaping, I spent the rest of the evening alone, and departed soon after."

"And didst thou learn anything?" Silvermane asked. The persisting silence saw her throw on a guilty facade that might have been convincing, were it not for the little smirk. "... Well, aside from never again taking my advice on mask preference."

"That," Arcanus added with an equally unconvincing frown, "and that 'alluring little filly' is not a compliment I am particularly comfortable receiving."

"Nonsense, dear," Silvermane giggled. "It sounds most endearing. Kinda cute."

"Perhaps for you, madam. As it stands, stallions are decidedly not my... interest-"

"Neither was wine, ostensibly," she said, emphasising that last word with a sly wink. "Yet thou didst give that a shot."

"Madam," Arcanus muttered, becoming increasingly and uncomfortably aware of just how crowded the line was - and how many sets of ears were close enough to hear this. Also, did she really have to mix formal and colloquial speech mid-sentence? "Two things. There is a reason I drank wine with her highness, and I have certainly not developed a fondness for it. And... might I ask exactly what are ye implying?"

"Nothing, dear," she chuckled, covering it with a cough when the boy's eyes showed no sign of amusement. "Nothing! Just loosening thy nerves. So, didst thou at least have fun?"

"I..." Arcanus began, taking the time to convince himself of the fact before working that magic on the mare who knew him best. It wasn't hard. He knew it all too well - as awkward as those nights had been, they had been an incredible learning experience. Uncomfortable? Yes. Pushed the comfort zone? Yes. Kinda... fun? Heck yes. "I enjoyed myself, indeed."

"Then what art thou so worried about? What is so different about tonight? Is it not just like all the others?"

Just like all the others, Arcanus went over the words in his mind as if trying to find a fault he already knew was there. Sure, it was nice that some confidence had been talked into him, but he had to ask himself a question: did his old mother even remember where they were? Just like all the others, indeed... if not for the minor fact that it was a high profile debutante ball, not just some aimless party where all the colts went to drink.

Tonight was to be the unveiling of Lady Stella of the House of Artois - heiress to an established and respected family among the gentry and peerage alike. Guests were only admitted by personal invitation, which his mother had conveniently arranged. Without her, he wouldn't even be on the guest list.

"Talk to me, kiddo," Silvermane prodded. Even in the darkness of the starry night sky, she could see the tell-tale signs of her son's analytical mind going to work - focused eyes, rigid stance, and staring blankly at the moon for whatever reason.

Arcanus watched in silence, as the dull patch etched onto its surface - the lunar sea - echoed its tragic story. The story that should never have happened, and the fall of a mare who deserved better. Disgraced, defeated, and imprisoned to bear the ravishings of time upon her body, soul and public image. Hard to believe that was already three months past, but such was the passage of time.

He returned his gaze to his mother, watching as she stepped forward to introduce herself to the doorman. As was the case with all those held in widespread esteem, from gods to mortals, respect brought rumour and with that came conflicting rumour. The fair lady Stella was famously inconstant among the upper class youth, with others arguing that she was merely indecisive and restless, and thus appeared picky. Others still decried both camps as petty gossip spreaders.

The point was, Arcanus had to concede his apprehension toward sharing a building let alone the dance floor with the illustrious - and as of tonight, eligible - Lady Stella. As he recalled, she had opted to attend her own debutante without a partner, which awkwardly conformed to both rumours while confirming neither. Heck, his own feelings for her were one big question mark. He didn't know what to believe. He hadn't even met her yet!

Tonight, for better or worse, that could very well change.

Silvermane turned back to him, noticing he'd come down off his star-gazing high. Oblivious to her son's internal monologue, she decided a little teasing was in order. "Finished? Thinking about Lady Stella, I take? I'll bet she's a looker."

"Nay, mother..." he argued half-heartedly as the blush returned in all its unwanted glory. "Besides, I have yet to even see the lady."

"Such is the appeal, dear. Surely, thou wouldst wonder whether or not she is cute?" she... well, stated a little too flatly to really count as a question, knowing all too well she was right. Her son, the cutie mark-powered super speed reader, was himself an open book before her.

Arcanus looked to the floor. He certainly was wondering whether or not she was cute. In fact, on every conscious level he was mixing and matching various combinations of eye colour, mane styling and body shape, and the possibilities did little but psyche his expectations further. Denile was futile.

"Chin up now, dear," Silvermane said, literally encouraging it with a hoof. "Thou hast conducted thyself most becomingly, and of that, I am proud." She motioned for him to follow as the doorman ushered them inside the manor. Slipping into a jarringly informal tone, she added: "Now, get in there and sweep the fillies off their hooves. Remember, thine old mother's watching, so put on a show for these old eyes."

"Very well," he muttered, unconsciously following behind and completely disregarding her... odd phrasing. No more worrying about tonight. She was right. He would get in there, drink a beer or two, and enjoy himself - whatever happened! Still, one unresolved matter nagged at the back of his mind... "One thing, though?" His mother nodded. With little more than a smile and raised eyebrow, he asked the most obvious of questions: "... 'Kiddo?'"

*******

"Introducing the fair Lady Silvermane and her eldest son, Sir Arcanus."

Arcanus looked around in wonder, coming up behind his mother and the usher as the three entered the massive hall. Thick cylindrical columns in a jet black pigment lined the walls, the chessboard pattern of the floor alternating between a rustic combination of deep orange and polished brass. Four crystal chandeliers hung high above the hall, enchanted flames within bathing the room beneath in a hot silver glow. He could already feel the warm air, thick with the scent of so many ponies, cling to his coat as the sound of indistinguishably mixed chatter filled his ears.

"Wouldst thou look at that," Silvermane said unspecifically, as more of a voiced thought than actual address. She breathed deeply and revelled in the glamorous atmosphere, letting memories of her youth spring to the surface. She wasn't that old yet, was she? "Hey, check it out," she whispered, motioning across the dance floor to two unicorn fillies who seemed to have taken a spontaneous interest in her son. "Just in the door and already turning heads."

Arcanus followed her hoof toward the two figures, squinting as he adjusted to the light. He rolled his eyes, but kept good humour and returned the girls' smiles with a nod of his own. One wore a deep green coat complimented by an ocean blue mane and black eyes. The other shone with a scarlet coat and sported an unstyled, lengthy crimson mane that flowed almost to the floor. "Mother, those are my friends."

"Then what art thou waiting for? 'Twould be a thoughtful conceit to introduce us, would it not?" she followed up smoothly, immediately dragging Arcanus across the door toward the girls. "Forgive me, young dears. I am told ye are both friends to my son here?"

"We sure are! Name's Moonthistle-" the green filly chirped, winking at Arcanus for effect. The red girl roughly jabbed her with a hoof and leaned in close to whisper sharply in her ear, most of which Arcanus failed to make out besides the occasional 'Lady Silvermane' and 'darned airling.' "I, uh... I mean, 'tis an honour, Lady Silvermane."

"Thou soundest a most vibrant young lady, Moonthistle," Silvermane laughed with an air of nostalgia, before turning to the other girl. "And thou wouldst be?"

"Aurora of the House of Borealis," the scarlet filly said with impeccable formality and a flawless bow, as if addressing the princesses- princess, herself.

"Lady Borealis, the baroness?" Silvermane mused, signalling the polite young lady to rise. "... Mother of the famous knight and bodyguard, Lady Belphegor?"

"Indeed," Aurora said, with a modest nod to hide the slight scowl. Her flat tone was neutral, almost mechanical, the kind one would descend into after retelling the same story to twenty different people. As usual, her sister got the spotlight. "My sister's reputation doth precede her. She hath indeed made a becoming name for herself."

"No doubt so, but if hearsay proves trustworthy, then thou art no slouch thyself," Silvermane said coolly, quickly throwing on a tactful smile. This girl's golden eyes told a tale, and as a mother of three boys with the eldest harbouring an obsessive desire to be better than the others, she knew all too well what that tale was. "Thou wouldst be the famed Red Mare, with the fastest gallop in the kingdom."

"I am humbled, but fear I can no longer perform to that level, my lady," she admitted, despite her lithe form looking no worse for wear in Silvermane's eyes. The older mare opted to quietly concede the point; the little smile the younger girl was wearing was a dead giveaway on its own that the compliment hit all the way home. "'Twas a long time ago, and my priorities in life have since shifted in favour of a decidedly more... intellectual career."

"So, ye study magic under the tutelage of her highness, alongside my son here? Then what matter doth bring you here tonight?"

It was a safe bet, as until recently the eldest son of Silvermane had expressed approximately zero interest in venturing beyond the confines of his study and out into the social world. In fact, the only reason he'd even done so at all was by royal order. Of course, not that it hadn't been hilarious to watch him freak out in delight after his first taste of life - like a foal adamantly refusing to try the strawberry custard, then one day caving in and falling in love with it on the spot.

Regardless, that was rather off track. His tutelage under the princess was his only real exposure to other ponies, so if he'd met these girls anywhere, it would have been there.

"Indeed, we do-" Aurora began, as a unicorn waiter picked that moment to approach with a table balanced precariously before him. "Oh, ye are most generous. A drink?"

"Figures, only wine..." Arcanus grumbled as he sniffed at the glasses, but nonetheless plucked two from the floating tray and passed one to his mother. Moonthistle shook her head with a grin and instead began to rummage through her saddlebag.

"In answer to your question, Lady Silvermane," Aurora said, sipping modestly from her glass. "We do indeed research magic under Princess Celestia's guidance. In fact, our special talents all compliment the field most conveniently..." she trailed, motioning toward her cutie mark - a single band of white flames coiled around into a figure-eight pattern.

"And as for why we're here, just having a few drinks," Moonthistle quipped innocently without looking up, "Couple of laughs, maybe fish up a colt or two..."

"Ahem," Aurora forcibly cleared her throat, sparing Silvermane a polite smile even as the older mare giggled and waved it off. "Address the lady properly, 'thistle." The rant she had worked up derailed spectacularly, as the forest coated filly's obliviously unabated search brought a far more pertinent point into question. "... Why did ye bring that saddle bag to a debutante ball of all places anyway?"

Moonthistle at last broke away from her bag, with a beer bottle and opener grasped firmly in her jaw and a look of triumph in her eyes. She quickly seized both objects with her magic, deadpanning at Aurora. "To carry these, duh."

Aurora placed her hoof upon the bag and rustled it a bit, frowning at the resulting dishevelled chorus of metal shuffling against metal. "Soundeth rather more like a toolbox to me..."

Moonthistle grinned sheepishly. "... 'Kay, a tad more. Ever find thyself thinking 'gosh, this'd be so much easier if I had a screwdriver?'" That grin twisted into a gleeful smirk, as though she'd just discovered an unknown land. "I made a list."

"Prithee, Lady Silvermane," Aurora appealed needlessly, bowing her head and missing the elder mare's obviously unoffended smile. "Forgive my acquaintance, for she hath all the tact and sense of an inebriated rabid bear. We are here to honour and bless the emergence of Lady Stella in a respectful manner. A glass... or two of wine may be complimentary, but we are decidedly not in the habit of 'fishing.'"

A sense of nostalgia crept into Silvermane's smile as she saw so much of herself in these fillies and their light-hearted bickering. They were practically a two-stop trip down memory lane, a sort of hypothetical "past me versus even further past me" scenario. On one side - the uptight, ostentatious aristocrat she once was. What she was raised to be. On the other - the easygoing funlover she eventually became. What she grew up to be.

Honestly? Although she'd never admit it, because bless this poor girl, she was trying so hard, she really did prefer the laidback demeanour of Moonthistle to the obsequious flattery of Aurora. She found it more endearing and, ironically, more respectful. It felt like she was being addressed on a personal level by someone who cared, rather than as just another elite by someone who feared or was told to blindly respect.

Some ponies in their world wore monocles, boasted expensive tailored attire and/or spoke in an eloquent 'the-world-is-too-boring-for-me' drawl, but that didn't matter. Deep down, they were all ponies. Some just had rich parents.

"It is most fine, dear. It soundeth as though ye are here for much the same reason we are," she said, watching as Moonthistle popped the lid from her beer bottle and wasted no time tossing it back. Subtle as it was, she caught the affectionate smile the girls would occasionally share, or the fact that their eyes held no signs of genuine malice. Despite their seemingly habitual verbal playfighting and humorously contrasting personalities, one thing was certain.

Only the very best of friends. Not a trace of actual hostility to their bickering at all, even if the two didn't fully know it. It was the stable 'truce' she sorely wished her children could ease into. Now, to make Arcanus and Prism - and in time, young Locke - appreciate that.

"Well, I believe I have hogged your attention long enough as it is, and I'm sure y'all have some catching up to do," she concluded, winking at her quiet and rather isolated son, "so I'm gonna go mingle. Well met, fair Aurora and Moonthistle. Do call me if thou dost need me, kiddo."

"So... how's it going, 'canus?" Moonthistle teased with a sly smirk just after Silvermane was out of earshot. "Been up to much?"

"Indeed, dear," Aurora added, pincering the apprehensive colt from the other side both literally and figuratively as he shied away. "We have scarcely heard a word from you, in... what is it, going on two weeks now? What have you been doing?"

"I, well..." he fumbled, sipping from his drink again to stall for time while he formulated an explanation that would do his absurd predicament justice. The taste of wine in exchange for another ten seconds to think? Good trade. "After the final exam, her highness pulled me aside and requested I... take some time to myself to..." his mind raced to come up with the right words, "... conduct intensive research-"

"To study love, we know. Her highness hath already informed us," Aurora said offhandedly. "That would be what your mother meant by 'the same reason we are.' It soundeth a busy curriculum, indeed," she added sarcastically.

Arcanus raised an eyebrow at the envious vibe, and in the moment, actually felt the urge to stand up for himself for a change. "I would hardly deem it a simple task, Aurora. Two ponies do not just meet and fall in love, save for in particularly unimaginative narrative. Due to this, and other..." he looked away, "... circumstances, I have yet to meet with much luck."

"Can't see why, silly colt. Don't forget, thou art quite the cutie," Moonthistle mused before Aurora could say anything, deadpanning at Arcanus like a teacher would a grown stallion who had forgotten his times tables. She leaned back to indulge herself in another mouthful of beer, making a point to slowly trace her tongue around the bottleneck suggestively.

Arcanus merely smiled and avoided taking that bait. Moonthistle was no doubt an... attractive young lady who professed great interest in him, and she represented an instant out to this little game the princess had thrown at him, but... no. He would not entertain the idea of courting a close friend.

"Arcanus?" Aurora cut in, drawing both their attentions back to her. "Love needeth not be a complicated matter. To be honest, I would consider attempting to 'research' its inner workings a fruitless and superfluous endeavour..."

"Heh, inner workings..." Moonthistle quipped childishly. "Phrasing-"

"We talked about this, 'thistle. Devise your own jokes," the scarlet mare chided smoothly like it was part of what she was already intending to say. "As I was saying, Arcanus. In spite of my feelings, and your apparent lack of romantic... prowess, your mother believed in you enough to let you try a hoof at Lady Stella."

Arcanus opened his mouth to reply, to call that out as being obvious, but... his mind went to busy work and no sound came out. The more he thought about it, the more he realized it actually was possible that the location and occasion of this party was mere coincidence. After all, his mother's words were far from forgotten: "Just like all the others."

Was he actually here to go for one of the highest profile eligible fillies in recent years, or was it just another party with dozens of fillies he could choose from? Outlandish and ridiculous as it was, the former was more likely. His crazy old mother would be the type to reason that the solution for his lack of success was to raise the bar. The real question was... was it crazy enough to work?

"So, my ladies..." Arcanus began, putting those thoughts aside for the moment, "Might I ask what ye two have been doing in my absence? How fair your studies?"

"Not the best," Aurora admitted immediately with guilt-ridden eyes, having abandoned her uptight demeanour of earlier. It was the look of a filly put on the spot about their overdue homework. "We have an interpretive essay due at next convention, and here I am doping up on wine when I could be putting some serious thought into it. How did ye talk me into this, Moonthistle?"

"Relax, silly. That's the end of the week," Moonthistle assured somewhat smugly, jingling her beer to accentuate the point. "Thou art here to loosen up and enjoy thyself. Introduce thyself to a colt... or filly, if that's thy thing."

Aurora prepared to scoff at the notion when Arcanus pre-empted her. "Free topic choice, or didst her highness assign to you a prompt?"

"A vague topic to say the least - the history of magic," Aurora confirmed, "I opted to focus on unicorn magic and its impact on the economy, specifically that of agriculture. Seeing as how we can replicate and automate area-wide labour. Lord General Ixion's writings on the subject provide a deep and well-informed perspective..."

'Tis a flattering way to describe 'closed-minded unicorn supremacy,' Arcanus figured in closed mental quarters, wisely keeping it that way.

Lord General Ixion - the Duke of Canterlot, Commander of the Royal Canterlot Military, and a damn near giant of a stallion widely considered the most powerful pony alive short of the alicorn sisters. He was famous for his strict disciplinary practices and high expectations of his subordinates, and equally infamous for his reputed disdain for non-unicorns.

"Meanwhile, I just went with something awesome," Moonthistle said plainly as though the ability to harvest an entire crop at once or enchant a self-winding clock wasn't fantastic enough for her. Evidently, it wasn't. "At first, I wanted to write about the Eight Dragons of Tartarus-"

"What's there to say about those beasts, dear?" Aurora said. "I think her highness is looking for a rather more mature outlook on this, as opposed to... fodder for the villains in some colt's comicbook."

"-which is exactly why I didn't!" Moonthistle finished without missing a beat. "They don't really affect us, so I'm stumped. Any ideas, 'canus? ... 'canus?"

Arcanus didn't hear her, or if he did, mere words failed him. His mind was being spoken to in a voice that transcended language, rendering him a blankly staring fool as he gazed intently toward a small crowd that had just entered the hall. More specifically, his attention was held by the petite, incredibly cute pegasus filly in the simple golden dress. She enticed him the way a naked flame would a drunk moth, rendering everything else in a hall little more than a blank silhouette.

"So that's what she looketh like? Cute," Moonthistle said knowingly, giving an appreciative whistle "Think loverboy's seen her, too?"

Arcanus's mouth flapped up and down as he fought to find his voice. He had a pretty good idea who 'she' was, but he had to know for sure. "W-who..."

"I would presume as such," Aurora replied to Moonthistle, ignoring Arcanus's question. She was enjoying this just as much as her mischievous friend. The two came up on either side of the enamoured colt, each placing a hoof on his shoulder and urging him onward. "That would be Lady Stella. Now, do be a gentlecolt, would you?"

"I..." whatever words had Arcanus beyond that were gone, as his eyes spoke far greater volumes about where his mind was as they roamed the girl's lithe form and appreciated every last detail. Deep blue, extremely well-kept coat... thick violet mane sculted into place by a gold band, hanging heavily over the right side of her face to expose a perfect view from the left... and alluring, yellow eyes.

Aye, he had seen gorgeous filles and mares - and, dare he say it, some colts - but this one seemed... different. A cut above the rest. The jewel in the crown of thorns. He loathed to use the word, but... special. He had to meet her! The rational side of his mind - that condescendingly cynical voice of reason - fought tooth and nail to point out how presumptuous, idealistic and downright cliche the notion was.

And, for once, he tuned that voice out. If love at first sight was unimaginative, then the hay with imagination!

"... Talk to her?" he mumbled incoherently, as his mind caught up with the reality. And, predictably, all his self-conscious thoughts and critique made themselves apparent once again. Meeting her would involve taking the initiative to talk to her, and that just wasn't going to happen. A girl like that could have anypony she wanted in that entire hall, and how could he compete with that? What would they have in common? What would he say? Going by the rumours, she was everything he was not - social, outgoing, accustomed, relaxed and carefree. "I... do not think I should..."

“Exactly. Do not think, just do. We never know unless we try,” Aurora interjected in answer to his thoughts . “As a lady myself, I can freely admit that we find a certain... endearment to the soft-spoken politeness of a true gentlecolt. Conduct yourself with strict pace, think before you speak, and that society girl will be nothing short of enamoured.”

“Without the superfluous prose,” Moonthistle muttered, never one to mince words, “-that meaneth ‘get over there and say a few charmingly awkward words and she’ll be all over thee.’ Better hurry up, though. She might not be alone over there forever,” she added as mock incentive, the suggestive tone and sly wink by no means going unnoticed. “I know I’d go there. In fact, if thou art not going to, perhaps I should..?”

Aurora glared at her.

“Kidding!" Moonthistle raised her forehooves defensively, before clearing her throat and striking an oddly heroic post. "This is thy night, ‘canus. Whatever thou dost choose, we are behind thee ‘til the end.”

Aurora raised an eyebrow. “What a... remarkably lucid thought to have come from thee, ‘thistle...”

“Full eight hours of sleep, silly,” Moonthistle said, poking her tongue out and dropping the pose. She regarded Arcanus for a few seconds, watching him stare off into the distance. "Stalling? We know thou hast already made up thy mind, anyway."

Arcanus sighed, but covered it with a self-therapeutic laugh... and then a real smile. Heh, they knew him too well. The slight furrow in his brow, coupled with his intense yet blank stare at nothing in particular, were the signs of his mind going to work. His fault for being predictable though, but he knew they were right. He would always have these two and their amusingly conflicting expressions of encouragement to fall back on, and now he appreciated the moral support more than ever.

With an overly dramatic deep breath, he rose a hoof to signal another waiter while rolling his neck back and forth to psyche himself up and loosen any remaining doubts. One more glass of... ych, wine would be another concession to make for the greater good. Worst case - he went home emptyhoofed, no different to when he first walked into that hall. Best case..?

*******

"M-Madam..."

Lady Silvermane - respected, honored, and darned tired mistress of the manor, found her concentration broken as that slurred word reached her ears, accompanied by a hymn of what sounded like lazy shuffling. With a smile, she removed her monocle and quickly filed her place with a marker before retiring the book to the table. Although she already knew who it was, a single look to the door confirmed it: swaying back and forth with a stupid drunken grin and glazed over eyes was her eldest boy.

"Star of the night hast returned in one piece. How faireth thine evening?" She had made her own modest departure from the party hours ago, after having met a whole ensemble of the peerage including aforementioned Ladies Borealis and Belphegor.

The inebriated colt briefly returned her smile with a mock salute, before staggering toward the smaller of the two couches and folding himself unceremoniously - known less formally as face planting - over the lime green cushions.

"... Over the moon, huh?"

"Nay..." Arcanus responded listlessly, voice muffled by the squishy velvet enveloping his muzzle and thus sounding more like a yawn echoing down a wind tunnel. "But... over the... the couch soundeth a better idea..."

"I am sure it no doubt must," she said with a quiet sigh. The boy was halfway plastered, and pretty much unreadable. The smile he'd been wearing - and may still have been wearing, if his face wasn't obscured - didn't necessarily mean he'd scored big, flopped, or anything in-between. However, there was an air of solemn dejection on the proverbial breeze, and his incoherent mumbling was clearing up exactly zero.

She looked to the little table next to her own couch, sliding the slightly bloodied handkerchief aside to seize the water glass - which thankfully still had a little water in it. Night Watch had talked her into keeping one nearby if she was going to insist on sweating herself half to death next to the fire while reading. Besides, everypony knew staying hydrated before bed was important, doubly so if your son had replaced half his blood with liquor.

Fighting the pain and laziness, Arcanus forced his stiff neck just high enough to see why she was nudging him. He still had that out-of-it grin on his face, and that immediately got Silvermane thinking - was he drunk to the point of blatant idiocy, or was he only just drunk enough to be really happy about something? Either way, the boy regarded the water the way a near-drowning victim would air, and quickly went to work. A good sign no matter what.

"So, might I ask why thou hast rendered thyself in such a state?" she nigh demanded, the formal and stern choice of wording coming across more like an interrogation. She sighed and closed her eyes. Really drunk and upset, or slightly drunk and exhilarated? She rephrased: "I mean, why art thou drunk?"

"Girls."

"Girls," she repeated, like that explained anything. "Might I ask which girls these would be?"

"Ye know. The girls," he clarified, surrendering his unsteady grip on the empty glass as his mother took it from him. "I had a drink, or... I forget, with the girls."

"Right, of course. Moonthistle and Aurora," she nodded, at least somewhat relieved. One part of her mind didn't feel comfortable with her poor, impressionable little boy getting drunk and who knew what else with a bunch of shallow wealth chasers or harlots. But, speaking of consorting with the female collective... "Moonthistle's a lovely girl, isn't she?"

"Not going there, mother... too weird." Arcanus waved a hoof at the insinuation. Had he considered it once? Absolutely. In fact, the first time he'd seen her following his royal charge, his eyes had bugged out like he'd never seen her before. The awakened possibility of romance in his mind somehow completely altered how he perceived her. But, that was before they had actually become friends, and since then his fleeting attraction to her had done what most fleeting things did - disappear. "She would, though."

"Fair enough," Silvermane conceded with a laugh. "So, didst thou meet Lady Stella, or another girl that captured thine interest? ... I mean interest, interest?" she teased, making no effort to hide her gossiper's grin.

With no sense of shame or modesty, and with the most hilariously goofy smile, Arcanus dreamily whispered one word: "Stella..."

"Bingo!" Silvermane chuckled, flexing her forehoof out and quickly snapping it back in. It was a technique she had picked up from her youngest son's repertoire of popular youth expressions, tricks and witticisms - known colloquially as the 'hoof pump.' "So thou didst meet her?"

Arcanus looked at her directly, still smiling but with an oddly... distant, somewhat serious look in his eyes. This odd combination of expressions made the internal paradox clear - he was modest about the story, but obviously wanted to talk about it. "One could say that..."

*******

Arcanus cautiously approached the pegasus girl, carefully working his way around into her line of sight as though she were an irascible beast. He sighed internally as the group around her picked that moment to disperse - as a girl's friends always did. Unspoken phenomenon as it was, he found it an awkward mix of blessing and curse. It not only made getting her alone a breeze, but also robbed him of his last excuse to retreat if his nerves went south.

Still, it was now or never. Never before had Arcanus felt more self-concious - at least, not since his first meeting with Princess Celestia. Still, he ignored that, and edged in just close enough that she could hear him over the obfuscating ambiance of the party... "M-my fair lady... may I ask of thee for thy name?"

She turned her gaze on him in an instant, smiling warmly... and somewhat flirtatiously. Her gaze darted back and forth across his body, never once settling on anything but his eyes after she'd had her fill of whatever it was she was assessing. "... Stella," she said with a subtle nod, even forgoing her title and with nary a trace of that stuck-up nobility girls of her station often had. "Haven't seen thee around here, before. I like that."

Just past introductions, and already at a loss for words. Arcanus mentally kicked himself. Ironically, her voice being as sweet as he'd imagined had caught him off-guard. It had all the makings of a royal, but there was a certain undertone to it. Perhaps strength, or confidence, as though she was no stranger to... well, strangers hitting on her?

Still, the most amazing girl in the universe had just addressed him, and he had to remember how to speak again - and fast. "I... tend to keep to myself." Good. Stick to the truth, and keep it simple. He could get through this. A few deep breaths couldn't hurt either. "I... usually do not commit to such occasions as this, but tonight I made an exception."

*******

"Laying it on thick," Silvermane whistled, but obviously as proud as any teacher would be of their student's progress and initiative. She had settled down again, and was lounging lazily on her cushion awaiting the continuation of a tale she knew was building up to something. "Though, I would have added something... direct, yet charmingly dopey. Like, say... 'I am not disappointed by what I see.' Thy father roped me in with that one."

"Well..." Arcanus led her on with a knowing smirk. His vocabulary and ability to form a coherent sentence had returned to him quite easily, and any evidence he was depressed or upset about anything had vanished. His mother's more hopeful theory had proven true - he was happy about something, and the proof was right there in the story.

*******

"I see it was an exception worth making," he added. Even as she giggled, he regretted it the moment it was out there. Something about it at the time just seemed so cheesy, he wouldn't be surprised if she just excused herself with a false smile of regret and sought a sharper colt more attuned to social subtext elsewhere.

Which, of course, wasn't what happened at all.

"Oh, thou dost flatter me," she giggled, waving off this colt's cute sense of forwardness as they shared a 'we-both-know-it's-true' look. She then abandoned the regal articulation and switched to one more befitting of a commoner. "So, whaddya do?"

Arcanus cleared his throat and, with every ounce of willpower he had to keep his nerves in check, bowed modestly: "Discuss it over a drink, if it would interest thee?"

*******

"Sly colt," Silvermane muttered intentionally loud enough to be heard. "Get the young lady tipsy, and-"

"Nay!" Arcanus shook his head in mock outrage the suggestion he would be so dishonourable... and succumbing to the faint flush in his cheeks. "'Twas not the intention at all-"

"But thou dost not deny something happened..?" Silvermane pried further.

"... I'm getting to that," Arcanus whispered, keeping his eyes to the floor. Still, his own excitement began to build as he recalled the story... so he could justify speeding things up a bit. His mother wanted something? Then something she would get.

*******

All in all, their conversation had lasted roughly twenty minutes and two drinks each. They had moved from the bustling hall out onto one of the balconies surrounding the estate, settling beneath the moon's incandescent glow with an unobstructed view of the beautiful garden and all its adornments. It was here they had come to talk about a great many things. As it turned out, Stella was an avid painter, enthusiastic reader and had taken a keen interest in her father's philanthropic work.

Correction, *she** talked. Arcanus had mentioned his studies, but for the most part kept quiet to admire the girl's serene voice and how her mane seemed to - ugh, cliche - glow in the moonlight. And, as though she just knew of the nervous boy's predicament, she picked that moment to drop heart-fluttering bomb of the evening.*

"Arcanus, can I tell thee something?"

"Sure."

"Most other colts," she gave an aside glance at nothing in particular, "... and fillies, if I'm in the mood, just try to boast and impress me. It's all about them, and their ego, and how great they are. What they claim they can 'do for me,' not realising their claims were *never** about me. But, I must hoof it to thee."*

'Hoof it?' In hindsight, Moonthistle could have had a field day with that phrasing, but Arcanus's mind was far too preoccupied with the... heat of the moment. Everything about the girl seemed to change, become more... passionate. Like she was bearing some kind of secret. "H-hoof what... to me?" he choked out.

The beautiful girl cupped his scorching cheeks in her hooves, leaning in close and bringing his eyes to hers. "For making this evening so much fun? I've really enjoyed myself tonight," she whispered in a sultry tone. Arcanus scrunched up his eyes, and seized up as he felt the unmistakable sensation of a kiss grace his cheek. "We should do this again, if thou wouldst honour me?"

Arcanus knew the answer to that question on instinct alone, but conveying it with words couldn't possibly do it justice. The look in the girl's eyes and that gentle smile made it clear she already knew. He settled for an unstable bow, fighting hard to keep his jelly-like legs upright long enough so that he could collapse without witnesses.

*******

"Did I not call it or what?" Silvermane exclaimed like a hyperactive filly learning to skip. "Thou hast swept a filly off her hooves-"

"'Twas just a kiss, madam..." Arcanus dismissed his mother's smirk, but wasn't far removed from one himself. In review, his last moment with Stella before she had been forced to return to the dance and other social obligations had been a kiss of all things; as far as last impressions went, he could have done a heck of a lot worse. But, he had to keep things realistic. "It is not necessarily indicative of anything..."

"'The greatest feats blossom forth from the simplest of beginnings, one step at a time,'" Silvermane quoted from the blurb on the back of her book, The Rose of Crimson Thorns. Arcanus was about to laugh at the cheesiness, but to his surprise his mother proceeded to do it for him. "Trashy romance novel, to be honest. Flat characters, predictable premise, uninspired dialogue, even less inspired title, violet prose... but at least it keeps the old eyes working."

"How inspiring..."

The Pursuit of Knowledge

Ignorance is bliss.

'What you don't know won't hurt you.' 'Better not to know, than to know and worry yourself to death.' 'Some things are better left alone.' Old addages with which Arcanus was quite familiar. To him, the idea was the biggest load of crap since the famous conspiracy theory claiming Celestia and Luna were the same pony pulling some kind of elaborate double duty to mask the autocracy as an oligarchy made the rounds.

Point being, Arcanus detested the wilful blindness the phrase encouraged. As far as he was concerned, it represented laziness and stagnation. Worse yet, it directly clashed with his own academic motto, which read something along the lines of: "knowledge is power, and the pursuit of knowledge is never a mistake - even if the lesson you learn is to never use that knowledge."

This ideal had only ever been challenged twice in his life. The first time was the Nightmare Moon incident, where he learned an important qualifier: knowledge came in flavours, and some were poisonous. Over time he had rationalized that away, though. After all, a brand of magic was morally neutral, just like any other tool. What mattered was who used it, and the motive of its user.

The second time..? Right now. For reasons he had yet to fathom, the favourite student of Princess Celestia had been invited to attend the next sun court gathering. As dedicated a reader as Arcanus was, his reading regime consisted mostly of what the princess told him to, with the occasional personal interest topic on the side. There were huge gaps in his overall knowledge of the world, and while the royal archives represented the bookworm's equivalent of heaven, he'd need a dozen lifetimes to even take a bite out of the secrets it held.

So, he'd come to accept that there would be things he would go to his grave not knowing. The sun court and its 'wondrous mysteries' would be one of those things. Since he was old enough to even understand the caste system, he'd given the topic the occasional thought, but those thoughts were always fleeting. He knew it was a congregation of the land's wealthiest figures to deliberate and vote on the kingdom's overall well-being. Why did the details matter? His family would never hold a station worthy of court representation, so it was out of his hooves.

This was to be a woefully underwhelming learning experience, though.

"With all due respect to her highness and the sanctity of this court, I fail to see what more we need discuss," declared outspoken magnate Golden Silver, a pegasus stallion of small stature with a fittingly overblown ego to match. He looked to his contemporaries, most of whom were mumbling incoherently and nodding their approval, assuring him that his side of things was the right one. "It is clear to me that the lower orders have come to learn the value of strength in numbers, and seek to bully us into conceding whatever demands they see fit to make. This situation need only persist if we allow it."

On the other side of the massive hall, the earth pony mare known as Ruby Slipper mulled over that fascist drivel with a patronizing smirk, confidently ignoring the misguided cheering in her opponent's favour. Even as all eyes were upon her for a rebuttal, she merely sipped her tea in silence, taking her sweet time until she was ready to respond.

Golden Silver had become her unofficial nemesis the moment this ordeal began, for he represented exactly the kind of young, hot-headed elitism she had always despised. To the older mare, reading the boy was easy; he had all the literary depth of a yearling's picture novel. Childhood most likely loaded with luxury. Given everything from toys, to books, to servants, without any expectation of effort or appreciation in return. Too much authority for one so young, especially without proper instruction in how to use it acceptably; he probably kicked those servants' kids around, some of whom could have been twice his age, without any fear of repercussion.

The best part? His father's recent passing had left the boy heir to a respectable family estate, sizable wealth and, possibly the most valuable of all, a seat at court. Unfortunately, he had also inherited his father's ongoing feud with the infamous philanthropist Ruby Slipper. Thus, the fatal flaw came to light - his education consisted mainly of repeating his father's racist bigotry and intolerance for any caste below his own.

As a politician, the boy was laughably ill-prepared to debate on equal terms with the more experienced courtiers, and curse his luck, Ruby Slipper was exceptionally obstinate, conniving and relentless - a fact she was more than happy to exploit in this instance.

"Yes, thou soundest very similar to thy late father," she muttered, knowing full well that the voice amplification spell would broadcast her quip for all to hear. Not that she cared. "Thou wouldst make the lower orders the enemy on a whim. Without a second thought. Why? Because they have the nerve to have a voice? Because they band together for mutual support as they starve for the aristocracy's indifference... for thine indifference?"

"Art thou suggesting they starve because we are so bold as to expect them to work for a living, as opposed to simply giving them whatever they want?" Golden Silver sniped back, pointing accusingly at the subject of his ire. Ruby Slipper never had to try very hard to get under his skin. Worse yet, the smile she was giving in return didn't exactly imply she was denying his accusation, and that only infuriated him further. "... Am I reading this correctly? Art thou such a hypocrite as to criticize myself and our contemporaries for our wealth, which we choose to use at our discretion? Thou possess as much wealth as any of us-"

"Big difference, boy." Ruby Slipper pondered her fruit bowl for a moment, before plucking a strawberry and spinning it in honey. Before anyone had a chance to question her disrespectful address, she continued, "I do not roll in my wealth like a shameless pig. The majority of mine is devoted to supporting those struggling in times of economic drought. I work the fields personally, assisting those to whom I feel a shred of empathy. I ensure disadvantaged foals have an opportunity to afford strong education, with which they may pull their families from poverty. Now, when was the last time thou spent a bit on anypony besides thyself?"

In his anger, Golden Silver retained enough common sense to resist the urge to comment on their clothing. That would backfire in a storm of equal parts hilarity and embarassment. The old mare was wearing what appeared to be a dress of humble, featureless charmeuse devoid of the usual adornments one would expect of an upper class mare. On the other hand, he was wearing a tailored suit and mantle, both of which practically overflowed with such pretentious compensations as gold threading and diamond-imbued buttons.

"I reiterate my point," he said to evade the smug mare's question, proving he had at least some understanding of the basics of politics. "Do they not starve for their own shortcomings?"

"Thou hast no understanding of what goes on beyond the walls of Canterlot," said Ruby Slipper, intentionally letting her tone betray a hint of spite as she made a point of looking around the room. "The majority of you do not. 'Their own shortcomings?'" She held a foreleg out, displaying a series of faded cuts, bruises and grazes - tell-tale signs of a battered, well-exercised limb. "Work a day in the fields thyself, Golden Silver. Then, if thou canst even still walk, or breathe, tell me about shortcomings. It's disgusting how you all look down on the lower orders, as though they're not the ones truly responsible for keeping our status afloat."

Golden Silver regarded the limb with moderate disgust, twisting his features into an exaggerated expression of contempt at one who should be his social equal or better lowering herself to such a level. What really irked him though was the foreign assertion that his wealth wasn't an inherent birthright; as though someone else's work was responsible for it. "With due respect, Ms Slipper-"

"Delaying tactics," she cut those empty words off. "Thou hast no respect for me, nor I for thee. Make thy point."

"Whose side art thou on?" Golden Silver finally snapped.

Silence befell the room, daring someone to break the ensuing stalemate. Golden Silver and Ruby Slipper alike kept eye contact, letting their expressions battle it out while their minds attempted to formulate their next words. Meanwhile, Arcanus resisted the urge to slam his head against the table. Not that it would have worked, as he was sitting on a cushion. He gazed slowly around the room, gauging everyone's expressions and realising that, to his dismay, Golden Silver had a sizable 'fanbase.'

As large as it was, the layout of the ovalular courtroom was actually rather simplistic. Two rows of regal red cushions arranged in a concave formation - numbering roughly 120 by Arcanus's count - ran parallel to the chamber's east and west walls, with thin aisles separating them at the north and south ends lest they join to form complete a circle. According to the texts, this was known as the Magnate Tier, and a seat here was considered the first step to earning the monarch's favour; families tended to shuffle in and out of these positions over decades by subduing or assimilating each other, and the like.

Just south of the room's epicenter sat a smaller semicircle of a mere twelve seats, similarly parallel to the southern wall as though it were the mouth of a giant smiley face. These seats were all adorned with highly distinctive family crests and emblems, constituting the High Magnate Tier. These seats were held only by the most influential collection of families in the kingdom, often having a rich history going back centuries to their names. In fact, the princesses themselves were often intimately familiar with these families, as they had ennobled most of their ancestors personally.

The sad reality was that despite the court's respectable diversity, many of its courtiers had let decades of wealth and taste go to their heads. Such were the flaws of a hereditary caste system. Personally, Arcanus had no trouble agreeing with Ruby Slipper, for it was hard not to. Her angle was more than just sympathetic; it was actually believable. Unlike Golden Silver, she didn't come across as a caricature for strawman politics, or the posterchild for elitist bigotry.

Regardless, his own feelings aside, both parties behaved disgracefully in Arcanus's modest eyes. He'd done the smallest amount of study on the subject of politics after learning he would be attending court, and he was familiar with the base nature of voting and civil discourse. The book said nothing about self-absorbed aristocrats, in whose hooves rested the future of Equestria, shouting at each other like impetuous foals fighting over the last cupcake though.

To make matters worse, the princess was making no move to stop them; even as taunts and insults had flown about the room like tipsy, one-winged pegasi, she merely paced back and forth with her eyes closed solemnly - taking it all in.

It was a sad truth to swallow. The mules around him were running his kingdom - possibly into the ground. Ignorance is bliss.

"The sidelines," Ruby Slipper whispered remorsefully, finally breaking the tense silence. "Bemoaning the fact we have reduced this scenario to 'sides' in the first place."

Golden Silver sighed. "Allow me to get this straight, Ruby Slipper." The mare nodded, indicating she would listen. "The peasantry work the land graciously provided to them by the kingdom, with the reasonable expectation of tribute in return..."

He paused waiting for the mare to impulsively interrupt him. Never came.

"... Yet, when they fail to honour their obligation, they see fit to band together and threaten rebellion..."

Again, he paused, confident that at this point Ruby Slipper or someone else would surely cut him off. Still nothing.

"... And, correct me if I'm wrong, but thou seemest strangely... at peace with the prospect of rebellion at the hooves of a movement that believes bullying and blackmail are valid negotiatory tactics. Almost as if thou dost... condone it. Am I right so far?"

Rebellion, Arcanus repeated the word in his mind. Several times. Since when was there a threat of rebellion? Sure, it was common knowledge by this time that the masses had become disillusioned with the way tax and tribute were handled. There was also much speculation as to why the outcry had become noticably worse around the time Princess Luna was banished. But... rebellion? Since when?

Ruby Slipper smiled again, and went to work dismantling Golden Silver's statement. "Thine insecurities merely confirm my fears, Lord Silver," she stated in a dulled tone, letting her actual age and the wisdom it carried show, not to mention addressing him by his title to enhance the formality and weight of her declaration. "We have grown complacent from years of sanctuary. Our sheltered social stature has been a given to those of noble blood for hundreds of years, to the point we have forgotten why the classes were defined in the first place." She closed her eyes. "... A revolution is both inevitable and necessary to prevent cultural stagnation, and this may just be the wakeup call we all need."

This was moving entirely too fast for Arcanus's liking, and disconcertingly, the princess still didn't seem to have anything to say. However, before the room could devolve into nervous chatter on the heels of Ruby Slipper's controversial outburst, a new voice entered the fray.

A voice that carried infinitely more weight than hers.

"Actually, Lord Silver and Lady Slipper," the voice came from the epicenter of the room, a small five-step marble pyramid formation known as the Royal Tier, upon which only civil and military advisors, personal guests, and of course the monarchs themselves may sit. All eyes were instantly upon the speaker; even Golden Silver and Ruby Slipper put aside their squabble in unison. As a personal guest, Arcanus needed only look to his immediate right to achieve the same effect. "The outer villages are assembling a separatist coalition. They threaten secession, not rebellion. Understand that this crisis goes well beyond your petty scrap, so please cease slinging foalish 'my daddy's richer than yours' volleys at each other and try to focus."

"Apologies, Lord-General," Ruby Slipper spoke up first with a submissive bow. "We allowed our personal grievances to carry our words from the topic at hoof."

"Y-yes, Your Grace," Golden Silver added, looking as though he could descend into a nervous breakdown.

Arcanus's prior knowledge of the Duke of Canterlot wasn't exactly comprehensive. It was no surprise that young Golden Silver looked ready to soil himself, but the way even Ruby Slipper seemed to shirk her refined composure and regress to self-conscious foalhood under his ire spoke volumes.

Ixion was unnaturally large for a unicorn, built like the toughest earth pony farmhand around. He sported a dirty, rust-like bronze coat and a scruffy white mane that draped itself listlessly over his neck. His thick hooves each bore a prominent band forged from a sickly grayish-white metal Arcanus couldn't identify. His icy blue eyes shone with just enough life to convince you he wasn't a walking corpse, while his unnervingly restrained voice hinted at a deceptively vicious animal beneath - merely waiting for the slightest provocation. Most interesting of all in Arcanus's eyes was his ominous cutie mark - three radiant white stars hacked and slashed into pieces - strategically exposed by his deep blue armor plating.

Needless to say, Arcanus did not envy those unfortunate enough to hold the Lord-General's ire.

"Ixion, please allow these ponies to continue," said Celestia, apparently having heard enough. "I fear the underlying motive behind these threats is very much linked to the class imbalances that have arisen in recent years. Golden Silver and Ruby Slipper appear to have a strong understanding of the issue."

"If I may, highness," Ixion countered, leaving his seat and walking out to meet the princess atop the giant emblem of the sun that covered the floor. "Their motive is not a matter of economic dissatisfaction at all. Greed, sloth, laziness - none of them factor into this. As you will recall, I dispatched my lieutenant Belphegor and a half-dozen of my soldiers last month to investigate... the claims."

Celestia's eyes narrowed, though not in hostility. Arcanus figured this was news she had been eagerly anticipating. "And what did they find?"

"It is as we feared, highness. A band of marauders has been harassing, and sometimes outright raiding, the outer villages. This separatist movement is just as much an act of self-defence as it is one of leverage. I believe our inability to contain these bandits has contributed heavily to a loss of public opinion. This crisis began mere months ago with two villages, yet it has since grown to seven."

"They blame us for not being there to hold their hooves?" Golden Silver remarked, momentarily forgetting to whom he was talking. Technically, court law permitted him the right to speak his mind; 'all may speak freely, for all are equal beneath the sun.' But that didn't necessarily make talking to Ixion an easy task. "... Have they forgotten that we are on the brink of war with the jackal clans?"

Arcanus raised an eyebrow. Not at the possibility of war with the southeastern scavengers, but with the fact it was old news. For decades, since well before his birth, the kingdom had been "on the brink of war" with this non-existent threat. The simple truth was that for all their ferocity as warriors and underhanded cunning as raiders, the scattered jackals had nownere near the manpower to threaten Equestria's military.

Plus, that said nothing of the cataclysm the princesses- princess, could personally bring down upon them if push came to shove.

"All the more reason for them to seek our aid in a time of crisis, Golden Silver," Ruby Slipper added with a deep sigh, as the scope of the situation was expanding with every passing moment. "In the event of invasion, softer targets such as outlying farming villages are the first to fall. I don't need to remind anypony here what would happen if we lost our primary production - our food - in the prelude to war."

"That is why we must do something!"

Ruby Slipper rolled her eyes at the naivety of this boy. "Do what, exactly? Let the military roll in there and force them to bow? That would be just the push they need to abandon us forever. The seeds of rebellion flourish beneath the hoof of a fascist government. Forget losing our primary production; what thou suggest would push this matter beyond civil disobedience into outright civil war."

"And just allowing seven villages to secede, leaving us wide open to a jackal invasion is any better?"

"Answer me this," Ruby Slipper snapped. "In light of these developments, what wouldst thou consider a liklier contingency? On one hoof, the villages are forced to risk their lives defending a kingdom they've lost faith in. On the other, they merely stand aside and allow the jackals to pick us clean as a sort of twisted vindication-"

"Thou suggest treason?"

"Enough!" Ixion said, putting an ever so slight emphasis on the word for an effect anyone else would have to shout to achieve. "You two conduct yourselves disgracefully, submitting to your petty squabbles and competitive impulses at court. The big picture is wasted on you." He turned to face the princess, his next words open to all but obviously meant for her. "We are distracted by smokescreens, highness. The jackals, the bandits, all irrelevant. The underlying sentiment here runs far deeper than petty distractions, and plays upon the fragile emotions of a disgruntled working class. I fear it is not so easily neutralized."

"What is their true cause?" Ruby Slipper asked, sincerely baffled by what could have alienated the outlying villages more than unreasonable taxing or a lack of support in what could potentially turn to war time.

"A rumour hath made its way around the kingdom in recent times, with which I am sure many of us are familiar. It is a well-known fact that subsistence farmers are very much reliant on the night to compensate for growing workloads and tax inflation. Their respect and dedication to the late Princess Luna is undeniable, even while unapparent."

Celestia narrowed her eyes, taking on a grim expression that was otherwise unreadable. "Thou speakest of what rumour, Ixion?" Her tone betrayed neither hostility nor warmth; simply a bitter foreknowledge of her fleeting question's impending answer.

"Highness, I will not mince words," Ixion whispered, taking on an almost melancholic tone as he looked to the floor. "There are... whispers pertaining to Princess Luna's absence. Whispers that paint the circumstances behind her disappearance in a new light."

The air came out of pretty much everyone's lungs, Arcanus's in particular. Celestia closed the distance between herself and the Lord-General at a slow, calculated pace, letting the charged silence do more than its share of setting the atmosphere. Her expression contorted into a pitiful cross between self-loathing and outward contempt, making no effort to mask her awareness of the painful subtext.

This minor detail escaped scrutiny, drowned out by the shock to everyone's systems: had Ixion just insinuated Princess Celestia was a deceiver?

"Yes," she said cryptically, veering away from the attentive Lord-General to sit upon the Royal Tier. "I suppose this had to be addressed at some point." She extended a tiny wisp of magic into her vocal cords, activating her own rarely used Canterlot Voice. "Citizens of the Sun Court," she announced, nailing that perfect balance between firmness and eardrum-shattering that her sister never could master. "With great regret, it has come to our attention that the circumstances surrounding my sister's departure have given rise to some unsightly misconceptions. These rumours, we fear, are the true source of this... malcontent."

She looked around, to find that everyone - Magnate and High Magnate alike - had bowed their heads without hesitation. She sighed, not exactly wanting to deliver this declaration to a group of yes-ponies; given the nature of what she was about to say, their blind obedience would sabotage the underlying moral before it even left her tongue.

"Please, rise," she requested, and her one-track minded subjects did so as though it were a royal order. "What I am about to say regarding the absence of my sister is the honest, unabridged truth. However, beyond our word, we wish that you make up your own minds regarding whether or not to accept this truth, or reject it. My desire is your genuine loyalty and trust, not control."

They all bowed again, but only held it briefly. It was the unspoken, yet unanimous means of answering "yes ma'am!" to a monarch without burdening her divine ears with the profanity of your filthy mortal voice - or something like that. Celestia had always hated being revered as such, and this only stoked that fire. Still, it served its purpose in this case.

"My little ponies, the truth is that my sister was removed as the co-monarch of the Kingdom of Equestria by force. There are factors to consider, such as what drove us to that resolution. Her intentions for the kingdom had taken a turn for the worse, through no fault of her own. I usurped her throne - knowingly rendering myself the executive of an autocracy - with the intention of restricting her ability to do this."

She paused her long-winded speech to sigh heavily, but at least the Canterlot Voice had a tendency to make anything sound dramatic and important. Still, she couldn't shake the growing feeling of sadness. Those memories hadn't exactly faded yet and, to make matters worse, these developments just proved how stupid and tragic this whole thing was. She had lost her sister to a senseless mistake, and now those events were the premise for something almost as bad. It was a chain reaction that should never have begun.

Still believe thy night unappreciated, Luna?

"I fear these rumours regarding the 'true' reason for my sister's absence have swayed the minds of the kingdom's outlying areas." It was no secret that the outlying villages held Princess Luna in high regard, for as Ixion said, most of them were heavily reliant on night shift work. In hindsight, it was remarkable that Luna ever got the idea that her night was unappreciated. "This brings to light an issue of trust. I do not wish to be followed by those who do not completely trust me and fear they have no choice but to bow. Those of you who can not find it in their hearts to place their faith in me, I offer the chance to leave the court with no repercussion."

Everyone held their seats and kept their heads bowed, to the surprise of exactly no one. Celestia immediately rethought the wisdom of making what could arguably be construed as a loaded offer or, at worst, a veiled threat. Still, this was about establishing and reaffirming trust, so for her own peace of mind and the sake of her integrity as monarch, she had to at least offer an out. She was a dictator in name only, and detested the thought of even accidentally forcing someone into obeyng her.

Besides, she thought. Am I not being pessimistic? The court has affirmed its unanimous support in the kingdom's hour of need. How dare I doubt my subjects' loyalty without due reason?

The benevolent princess smiled outwardly, signalling her loyal subjects to rise. "Thank you all. Now, I have heard," she said, looking at Ruby Slipper for a moment, "and considered your opinions," her gaze shifted to the other side of the room, resting upon Golden Silver. "However, we will not take military action. We will not antagonize these villages any further than these... circumstances already have. The bandit activity will be contained, in time, but it is not our priority."

Arcanus smiled, watching the real power behind the court go to work. No matter how obstructive a bureaucrat or obnoxious a courtier, there wasn't one the princess couldn't deal with by just denyng them the sun for a day.

While officially all the court's proceedings held some meaningful capacity, he recalled that one of the savvier books he'd skimmed on the subject managed to highlight the subtext perfectly: Bottom line, the kingdom was an absolute monarchy, and majority had no place in it. The voting system existed solely to let the princesses know who they were pissing off.

"Our first priority is to placate, and secure our relations with those still willing to listen to reason. We must not allow this movement to spread to an eighth village."

"The village of Pony'borough, according to my scouts," Ixion added. "Pony'borough is the closest village to southeastern border of the realm, and following the chain the other seven have formed, it is most likely next in line."

Celestia nodded. "Negotiations with Pony'borough shall be handled by a strictly unarmed team to peacefully defuse their intentions. For that purpose, an ambassador will be elected, and they shall in turn elect two escorts of their choice."

Arcanus smiled. At the princess's guidance, this situation would be defused by week's end. She had a massive pool of academics from which to choose, not to mention civil services and even military ambassadors. She'd pick someone brilliant, with years of experience and qualifications to match, not to mention an affinity for the silver tongue.

Celestia whipped her head around, and offered an almost mischievous grin. "And for that purpose, I wish to call upon my guest."

Impromptu Ambassadors

"Hey, darl. I take it court went well?"

Arcanus smiled contentedly, the plain old kitchen losing what little allure it had as his attention was held entirely by the gorgeous mare before him. He’d only been gone a few hours, yet that was long enough for a love-struck pony desiring his mate. He shuffled his way over to one of the couches around the small table and planted his haunches into the inviting, cushy embrace of comfort, never taking his eyes off her lithe form...

Paying special attention to certain assets, of course.

The day had been a demoralizing one of revelation, teaching him more unpleasant truths about politics in just a few hours than he felt anypony deserved to be tortured with over their entire lives. The ordeal had sucked the energy right out of him, replacing it with a cynical and very much unwanted understanding of the grim reality of politics. As such, his ears welcomed that serene voice the way a drowning pony would a breath of fresh air.

And, as if his incredibly beautiful wife's dashing smile wasn't gravy enough, she seemed to be slaving away making sandwiches... and coffee.

"Well, uh... let's say it certainly went," he began, reclining into the couch to the gratitude of his strained hindlegs as he watched his wife scoop up the cup and packed plate with her wings. He smirked, once again reminded of how the other races compensated for their lack of magic while unicorns took such basic things for granted. "... Though to where it went, I really don't know."

"Heh. 'Bout time thou wert given a taste of those super-upper class twits' attitude," she said, keeping the unbalanced load stable on her wings with expert control, no doubt gleaned from years tending to society's upper echelons. She veered around to take a seat of her own, setting the cup and plate atop the table. "I remember my first time at court. Still get flashbacks, actually.”

"That bad, was it?" said Arcanus. He sniffed at the alluring scent of coffee to force down the impure thoughts that were stirring at the behest of his wife's adorable pout. "Like, 'facehoof' bad, or... 'I just want to scream’ bad?"

"Thou couldst say either," she said as she retrieved one of the smaller, hay-laden sandwiches. "I was young and naïve. A filly without a clue as to how politics worked, and so I... spoke from the heart." Arcanus's ears perked in sync with his eyebrows, a tell-tale sign he was coming to an epiphany. A sign that, for whatever reason, engaged his wife's 'daww' box in all the right ways. "Yeah, I yelled at a magnate. Out of nowhere, just like that, right in the middle of proceedings. Impertinence didn't even begin to describe it."

Arcanus laughed, briefly conjuring up the mental image of some grossly overweight idiot babbling about tax increases or stricter curfew, only for a hot-tempered little pegasus filly to leap a table with and start chewing him out in front of his peers in a demeaningly high-pitched voice.

It was no secret that Arcanus was often hesitant to speak his mind. He feared his words would crumble under scrutiny, and that in the spotlight his nerves would follow suit. Thus, he had always excelled at essay and letter writing, where he could express his long-sheltered feelings openly without fear of cracking under the pressure. He actually had a great deal to say, and was a deceptively opinionated pony.

The first lesson marriage had taught him: so was his wife. And, unlike him, she actually had the stones to give you a tongue lashing—no matter who you were.

"That... can't have gone over well. I imagine her highness was-"

"Made her day, apparently," she said nonchalantly, biting into the sandwich. "... Of course, mother gave me a look that could melt ice and requested a private audience with her highness the moment we adjourned, but overall I'd say it went swimmingly."

"What happened? Didst thou apologize?" Arcanus asked, quietly impressed by his wife's linguistic... inconsistency. One moment, she was slinging slang around; the next, she was practically delivering a lecture. She reminded him of his own mother, bless her heart.

"Natch. At the time I didn't really know what the big deal was, even as mother forced me to bow and grovel and do the whole obsequious dance. I remember wincing every time she said she'd discipline me at home..." Her tone gradually elevated with each word, building the suspense as though the climax of this tale was one of great triumph. "Her highness just silenced her with a hoof, leaned down, winked at me, and said I had a good head screwed on my shoulders. Not in those exact words, obviously."

"Obviously," Arcanus said, even as his imagination cooked up a perfect image of Celestia using precisely those words. After what this chapter of his life had taught him about the immortal god-empress, nothing could surprise him anymore. A little break in character for the sake of a young filly's feelings? Psh. She'd confided her personal troubles in him. She'd lost her temper in his presence. She'd allowed him to console her in her weakest moment. She’d shared a drink with him. You didn't get less formal than that! "She didn't scold thee at all?"

"Kinda. She reminded me to think things through before speaking." She took another bite of her sandwich, the brittle grass layering crunching audibly as Arcanus nodded his agreement. "Well, and that calling somepony's mother an ill-educated mule isn't the most integrious approach to debating. I'll never forget the way she smiled so caringly and empathetically to somepony so far beneath her, even though that pony had spoken so audaciously out of turn. We're so lucky to have a ruler as wise and gentle as her."

"Hear, hear," said Arcanus as he bowed his head respectfully. "She is most certainly tolerant. Truly, I do not know how she doth stand it. Those above us are just... beyond belief. Mother told me stories of their arrogance and entitlement, but I just smiled and paid them no mind. To see it for myself..."

"Underwhelming?"

"Aye. I figured her tales for exaggeration. One would think an upper-class education would at least afford them a sense of etiquette and restraint, or some darn manners—"

The violet-maned mare sighed, shaking her head. "Thou shouldst never overestimate our peers' capacity for self-centered bigotry. They see manners and etiquette as tools with which a pony can earn a living—or rather, money. And since they were born with more of that then they know what to do with, they don't see the need for them at all." She unfurled her wings and motioned toward them proudly. "I haven't always had it easy, either. Neither did my parents. Why dost thou think I took up my father's work?"

Arcanus scowled, momentarily letting the idea of anyone viewing his lover in a negative light distract him from the bigger picture. She had alluded to something he'd noticed as well. Many of those who had spoken at court uttered such terms as 'pegasus' and 'earth pony' with varying levels of dismissal, pity and in some cases contempt. This was particularly apparent when Lord-General Ixion himself had talked down to both Ruby Slipper and Golden Silver like they were filth on his hoof without even making an effort to hide it.

The caste system itself was a racially-charged holdover from the pre-unification era, whether or not the unicorn-dominated elite were stallion enough to admit it. A time when society was split between three purist tribes and kept that way by hatred and prejudice, all the while begrudgingly relying on each other due to ponykind's intrinsically interdepenent nature. Although rarely acknowledged, it was well-known that the unicorn elite—the Platinum family line in particular—had difficulty adjusting to their status in the newly formed Kingdom of Equestria, and having to shack up with 'bedrazzled earth ponies' and 'rough-and-tumble pegasi.'

It was assumed that these cracks in the shiny new armor of a united ponykind had healed over the centuries leading up to Celestia and Luna's enlightened era of tolerance and camaraderie. And, like many assumptions, Arcanus was finding more and more reason to second guess it. History was written by the winners, and those winners had an agenda to keep.

I... actually know very little about that period, he thought dismally, realizing his knowledge of that particular era of history was limited. Celestia had never stressed the importance of studying the past; her focus was on the present, and especially the future. Mental note: look into pre-classical history.

“The lessons of Hearth Warming are so easily forgotten, aren’t they?” Arcanus was jolted to attention by his wife’s sudden solemn sentiment that eerily mirrored his own. Also by the fact that she’d somehow moved from her seated position to a new one… right next to him. She rested her head lazily on his shoulder and, although he couldn’t see it, Arcanus assumed she was grinning inanely. “But enough banter. Now, is the food to one’s liking, sir?”

“Daffodil and daisy…” Arcanus remarked fondly, plucking the largest sandwich from the pile and drawing it to his nose. He closed his eyes as the sweet flowery scent mixed with the distinctive fragrance of the mare next to him. “It certainly smells such.” He went to take a bite, but hesitated as an idea came to mind. “… Promise to let me finish this one?”

The lady whistled. “Thou meanest… er, some manner of which I’m not…” She shook her head in a universally pointless gesture, one that ponies often used to “shake off” a tongue-tied moment. “I know not of what thou speakest.”

“Must I spell it out?”

“Right, right,” the clingy mare scoffed. “It’s my fault thou burnt thy last one?”

Arcanus gave her a blank look, deadpanning in a half-heartedly grumpy manner. “Sounds good to me.” Apparently his dorkish attempt at snark was cute in its own way, as his wife began to laugh. “I think we reached consensus that thy tongue was at fault.”

In short, he’d arrived home early one afternoon and found both a cold coffee and sandwich his wife had so thoughtfully left for him. Playing on the distractions of exhaustion and hunger, that same oh-so-thoughtful wife saw fit to lick his neck mid-heating spell. Bigger picture—that tongue played a pivotal role in what quickly developed into a very interesting afternoon.

“Guilty as charged,” the mare conceded, foalishly sticking out the tongue in question. “Knock thyself out.”

As expected, the sandwich was divine. As was also expected, every passing moment made it clear that the mare, with her hooves dug into his back and shoulders, wasn’t really intent on letting him eat. Arcanus reclined into the couch with an elated sigh, appreciating the tendency of a mare's hooves to become soft and tender when the situation called for it. He closed his eyes, nearly succumbing to bliss as the stress flowed out of his admittedly underused muscles like a floodgate.

"Is there not something else thou wishest to tell me?" the mare broke the silence after nearly a minute of the heavenly workings she was applying to Arcanus's back. "Regarding thine invitation to court?"

"Mhh... such as?" Arcanus replied, though it came off as more of a yawn. He was more than happy for talky time to just be over already.

"I couldn't help but take a look at it..." She paused her ministrations long enough to point at the table. Next to where she'd placed the sandwiches and coffee sat a scroll bearing Celestia's golden royal seal and matching signature. "... and noticed it was a subpoena; an order. I get the feeling her highness didn't summon thee to court just to take some notes for posterity."

Arcanus sighed, leaning forward and breaking the massage momentarily—ignoring his muscles' screams of protest and discontent. "... Her highness hath appointed myself, and two of my choosing as 'impromptu ambassadors.' Something about the outlying villages threatening a revolt." He didn't really want to talk to about this until he'd had a chance to think it over, but ultimately, 'no time like the present' had prevailed.

His wife raised an eyebrow. "Moving up in the world, are we?" She smiled. "Soundeth like thou art headed for a great career."

Arcanus leaned back into her embrace, smiling a little as she immediately resumed her massage. "Thou art not surprised at all? That a pony with no training or experience in negotiation has been called up for such a weighty task as this?"

He gasped, as the hooves in his back dug into a particularly tight muscle. Whether she'd done it on purpose to stop his rambling, or just by dumb luck, he'd never know. But the interruption brought him some clarity, at least.

"I say her highness hath suggested thee for thy loyalty and charm," she whispered in his ear, taking extra care to lower her voice to damn near intimate levels. "And maybe she thinketh thou wouldst work the same magic on those rowdy country-folk thou didst on me. Y'know... kiss here, hoof there-"

"I get the idea," Arcanus cut her off. He hummed acceptingly, allowing the silence to resume and his wife's hoof-work along with it. There was another reason he'd been chosen for this task, but it didn't merit elaboration quite so soon.

It was strange, really. A year ago he'd never have considered that silence could be so comforting; that you could communicate so much with so few words. He'd read books all his life, and so the indirect ways in which emotions worked had been... lost on him. Yet now that he'd given this mare a chance, and in turn given himself so completely to her, he realised there were many avenues of life no amount of reading could have prepared him for.

The kiss—tongue and everything—he suddenly felt on his neck was one of those things.

Coupled with the hooves in his back, it served as a catalyst to get his own libido into action like a sleeping wolf suddenly waking up to defend its territory. In the past, those skilled hooves could render him putty to be toyed with at his wife's unmentionably naughty whims. However, years of Celestia's tutelage—coupled with being married to an open-minded girl—had taught him to think outside the box. He had his own tricks too.

Marriage lesson number two: magic provided options, and with great power came great opportunity to pervert that power.

With his own growing lust and a fittingly smug grin in place, Arcanus materialized a bubbling, jelly-like mass of raw psychic energy in the air. With well-practiced precision, he trimmed it down into distinctly claw-like digits and directed them toward their destiny—the ticklish spot at the base of the mare’s wings. "Thou likest that?" he asked needlessly as the pressure in his back quickly eased off.

Foalish giggles were his only answer, as the cute girl thrashed and writhed under the unwavering assault of the Telekinetic Tickle Torture spell. She resisted just enough to shoot him a defiant glare, which served only to widen Arcanus's own smirk. He took charge, swooping around to stand in—and lean into—her face, steadily funneling more power into the spell. Whoever originally invented the tickle attack practically revolutionized the art of torture.

"S-stop! I can't... haha! I-I can't take... it!" she screeched, stating the blatantly obvious. She'd given up trying to even maintain eye contact, as her ability to resist the indescribable agony of being tickled wavered even further. Despite his own dignity and sense of decency, Arcanus smiled lustfully and made no effort to hide how much he was enjoying this; he'd learned months ago the sheer fun a pony could have by indulging in such desires. Tears formed in the lady's eyes, shorthand for her rapidly wavering willpower, yet the torment persisted. "P-please..."

Arcanus arched an eyebrow playfully, nonetheless adhering to her request. He eased off on the spell, causing the conjured claws to back away and give the tormented mare her space. The energies rippled and waved back and forth, as though cracking their proverbial knuckles for the next 'assault.' "And why should I?"

"So I can do this-" she whispered, recovering instantly and tackling him to the floor with the speed of a pegasus and strength of a horny mare in heat. The blazing, amorous look in her eyes left little of what was to come (besides himself) to Arcanus's imagination, so he just smiled in anticipation of the kiss he was about to receive.

Marriage lesson number three: his wife was very keen on physical intimacy. He'd pushed her buttons the way she'd taught him, and now it was time to reap the rewards.

"Ahem."

That is, were it not for the most ill-timed of interruptions. Arcanus sighed, immediately recognizing Aurora's voice. The royal mail system sure worked fast, didn't it? And where one strolled, the other was surely not far-

"No, no. It's not meant to be polite," came an accompanying voice from the same direction. Moonthistle. Only she could possibly carry herself with transparent nobility yet blend it with such... roughneck pointedness at the same time. "Say it with me: 'ah-HEH-mm.' A jarringly intrusive rasp."

Arcanus briefly considered getting up from the "evil" and compromising position to address his friends with the usual 'it's not what it looks like' spiel, yet two things put a pin in that plan.

One, it was exactly what it looked like, and he wasn't exactly embarassed or ashamed at that fact. After all, it was his wife, in his house, about to do things to him with her tongue that until recently he'd only heard about. He could count on one hoof how many damns he gave about being seen. Two, he couldn't actually get up because said wife still had him pinned to the floor.

"Lady Stella," said Aurora, bowing slightly and only hiding about seven-eighths of her smile. "Always an honor. May I ask if we are interrupting something?"

"Obviously."

"It's proper manners to at least pretend, 'thistle..."

"Aurora Borealis, not at all. Please, come in," said Stella, only sparing the mares at the door a brief glance to beckon them inside, before returning her hungry eyes to the colt beneath her. The playful look in her eyes made it clear that she wasn't finished with him, even as she reluctantly back off to let him up. "We always discuss seasonings and dress colors over a kiss. Do not mind us. Now, what matter doth bring thyself and—" her smile shrunk slightly, just enough for no one to notice, "—Lady Moonthistle to see us?"

"'Canus asked for us," Moonthistle replied bluntly, eyeing her friend's wife somewhat seriously even while keeping up her usual enthusiastic smile. She felt Aurora's steady hoof on her shoulder, but didn't even glance her way to acknowledge the touch. She reached into her bag and withdrew a scroll. "Something in the mail requesting us to 'escort' him on some sort of assignment?"

"That's right." Arcanus cleared his throat, drawing all eyes to him. "Canterlot is facing an economic and political crisis."

Aurora raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?"

"I don't know the details, but a string of peasant villages is threatening some kind of... separatist coalition. Her highness hath ordered me to travel to Pony'borough and present Canterlot's case to the mayor. I was asked to nominate two escorts."

Moonthistle leaned over to Aurora, who pre-emptively rolled her eyes. "She's asked him to go there and stop a rebellion, and he needs us to bail him out when things go pear-shaped."

Aurora ignored the remark. "As I recall, standard formal negotiations are usually handled by a sworn ambassador. We have no such pony with that skill."

"This isn't standard," Arcanus corrected with a sigh.

Aurora scowled. "Her highness expects us to play emissaries on Canterlot's behalf without a hint of training? What about a military escort?"

"That's what I said, at first," Arcanus commented, looking at the floor. "It's not ideal, but her highness... she confessed to me a fact I'm not entirely comfortable with even knowing, let alone sharing." He looked from Aurora to Moonthistle and back again, a steely resolve suddenly present in his eyes. "... There's a personal reason why her highness hath asked me to handle this rather than one of her ambassadors, and without any kind of armed assistance."

"And since we're coming with, wanna at least tell us why?" said Moonthistle without any hint of a questioning air.

"Indeed," Aurora added. "If we must take time out of our own lives to risk dealing with these roughneck barbarians, we at least deserve to know."

"... I suppose."

As was rapidly becoming the norm when it came to one-on-one encounters with Princess Celestia, Arcanus sat in awkward silence awaiting whatever unpleasant truth was about to be revealed to him.

"... I'm sorry, Arcanus," Celestia whispered remorsefully. "I'm sorry I must impose such an impromptu hardship upon thee. Thou art on the brink of starting a family with young Stella, and here I am, burdening thee with my problems once more."

Arcanus shook his head, naively accepting whatever hardship he was about to hear before even... well, hearing it. Again. "Nay, highness. Your will is absolute, and mine subordinate."

Celestia giggled. "We'll have to work on that." Her smile held strong, and Arcanus liked that. He hoped never to see his idol in the state... that night had left her in again. Despite the gravity of what he felt was to come, she seemed more... disappointed than genuinely upset. "... But for now, it will do. Listen, and listen well. Dost thou know why I appointed thee to this task?"

Arcanus came up empty in that regard. Why had she? What did he know of politics? He'd attended court a grand total of once, not even in an acting magnate or advisory role, but as a mere guest. She saw fit to trust such an important task—the aversion of a secession, with the worst case being a possible civil war—to the political equivalent of a magic kindergartener?

"... I fear thou art one of the few I can knowingly trust," she continued, her student's silence being answer enough. "Canterlot trains and employs many ambassadors, envoys and emissaries, as thou art no doubt aware. Diplomacy. Peace. 'Tis how the Council of United Ponydom first established trade routes and steady alliances with the neighbouring lands following the formation of Equestria. 'Tis how my sister and I have maintained them for the near-six hundred years since our inception as princesses."

Arcanus nodded, unconsciously sitting down as he once again segued into the role of nerdy schoolcolt lapping up every word, every piece of knowledge the teacher shared.

"However, Canterlot's ambassadors are experienced. Too experienced. Thou hast spent mere hours at court; these ponies have spent what may cumulatively amount to months. And, what happens to a pony when they dabble too much in politics?"

"They..." Arcanus paused for a moment to think. "They become corrupt?"

Celestia smiled. "Suspicion where it's due, Arcanus. The word I sought was 'opinionated.' But, yes, they do often form an agenda of their own. Their job becomes a mouthpiece through which they can share their insights, wisdom... and, sadly, grievances and prejudices as well. To mince words no longer, Arcanus..."

She sighed, letting the smile drop as she looked Arcanus dead in the eye; a succinct way to hammer the seriousness of this situation home, and to point out the fact it wasn't a game or some fancy test.

"This 'rumor' regarding Luna's disappearance? The working class's increasing dissatisfaction with Canterlot's alleged lack of poise? The sudden rise in jackal aggression? I fear subterfuge is at play here. My advisors are best kept out of this, as I fear my inability to properly read into their... intentions presents a risk. I need somepony I know I can trust. Somepony far removed from the politics of this. Somepony I can trust to stand at my side not only as a loyal subject and student, but as a friend."

"Wow," Aurora said bluntly. "So, we're waltzing off to some backwater peasant village to talk them out of declaring war, or best case scenario secession?"

"Pretty much," Moonthistle agreed bluntly.

"I get the feeling I'm mixing up in some real trouble..." Aurora said with a nod, before turning to head for the door with Moonthistle in tow. "We'd better get packing. The winter winds are cold this year, so remind me to bring—"

"The caltrops?"

"I... was... going to say a map and scarf..."

Arcanus turned to Stella as his friends' voices turned the corner and faded away down the corridor. "So... that's it."

Stella beamed at him, apparently more enthusiastic about the arrangement than he was. "'Tis just what thou needest, really. A camping trip with thy friends, to get away from being all cooped up here obsessing over books."

Arcanus sighed, putting a hoof around Stella's neck and pulling her in close. "I like being 'cooped up' here with thee—"

"I know, darl," Stella interrupted, derailing that train of thought with a quick kiss. "Now, let's get thy bags packed. We'll need... let's see..." She began to tally items off, never once noticing her husband's facehoof. "Road-worthy trekking shoes, winter attire for the late afternoons, water-resistant wrappings for the sleeping bags, a tent, flint and tinder, a generous supply of non-perishable rations..."

"I was just going to keep it simple," Arcanus insisted. "Some ink and parchment, enough platinum dust to send a letter, just enough food to get us to the village, a book or two for whatever down time we have..." He trailed off, naively forgetting to mention any kind of travel-wear or sleeping gear. "I'd like to travel light and modest."

"Two things," Stella said while shaking her head and, with a devilish grin, wrapping a wing around the clueless colt. "One, not a chance in hay," she declared, hastily guiding him to their room, for she would not allow her husband to leave so grievously ill-prepared for a perilous journey. "... And two, don't forget that coffee."

*******

"I do believe we're here," Aurora mumbled in a bored monotone, the modest village before her adhering to her (low) expectations of an outlying farming town. Sure, the two-day trip hadn't exactly taken much out of her, but an excursion like this didn't rank highly on her list of preferred leisure past-times. Moonthistle and Arcanus quickly followed up behind her, the latter collapsing and gasping for breath under the weight of two grossly overpacked saddlebags. "... Remind me again why you allowed Lady Stella to do the packing, 'canus?"

"She can be... quite persuasive," Arcanus stammered out, noticing too late that uttering those suggestive words while panting like a rabid jackal was just going to get Moonthistle's perverted jokes going. He looked up to the worn archway spanning the gates and the sign hanging upon it reading Pony'borough in fading letters, and noted that to its credit the rundown hamlet was actually enclosed by a clay wall. Of course, it wasn't high enough to stop a determined pony that knew how to jump, but at least it was a start. "Besides, it's not much further now. We just need to find a tavern and rest, and meet with the local government tomorrow."

"Well, villages this small usually just have the one," said Aurora, wasting no time in leading the way down the main street past a slew of decaying buildings.

Admittedly, she'd expected a village of broken down straw huts. Instead, she was pleasantly surprised to find they were straw houses instead! The early evening streets were rather quiet, implying that the farmhands either had yet to finish the day's work to knock off for a drink, or already had; the few that did walk the streets eyed them with overt suspicion, keeping their distance.

"It would appear these local hayseeds think I'm the ambassador, with you two as my humble entourage," Aurora said with unmistakable mirth, holding her head high as the bystanders clearly paid the most attention to her. "Mayhap they have more taste than I credited them with."

"'Tis because thou wearest all that..." Arcanus looked over the various trinkets and jewellery adorning her extravagant gold-themed regalia, still wondering how the hay she could stand travelling cross-country in such attire. He wracked his brain for the word his wife had used. "... Bling?"

"Yeah," Moonthistle countered coolly, casting the peasants an almost empathic smile. "If anypony stands out, 'tis thee. If anypony looks like she's got money, 'tis thee. If anypony among us is most likely to be targeted, robbed, murdered and/or ogled, 'tis thee!" she said, wearing an exaggerated grin of pure glee. "And it won't be my fault this time."

"Hush. Appearances are the first impression these ruffians will judge us by," said Aurora, veering off the road toward what she presumed was the tavern. "They will know that us Canterlotians are not to be disrespected."

Aside from the classic swinging doors, the building was easily the largest in sight, and was remarkably well-kept compared to the nearby houses; the fact it seemed to be built from clay and plaster likely had something to do with that. The many windows suggested a fair few comfortably sized rooms reaching up an impressive five floors, and the hollow glow and ambience of drunken laughter emanating from within hinted at a healthy business.

Aurora stopped just shy of the door. "Now, can you please behave yourself, 'thistle? I know I can't take you anywhere, but the last thing I need is getting dragged into a fight."

Moonthistle gave a mock salute, before placing that hoof over her heart and flashing the most sincere smile anyone who knew her well could possibly take seriously. "Cross my heart 'til the day I die, wouldst thou think I would lie?"

"Be glad that's rhetorical," Aurora mumbled, thrusting the doors open. She was immediately blasted in the face by a release of warm, musky air saturated in the sweaty stench of drunken peasant labourers. She took a step back, visibly clenching her nose with a hoof. "On second thought, after you."

"Me, or him?" Moonthistle asked sardonically, going out of her way to savour the undesirable scent. "I can do both."

"Either suits me," Aurora gagged, stepping further back and urging one of her comrades to brave the den of deplorable depravity first.

Inside, Arcanus came to an immediate realisation: this didn't feel like a backwater tavern at all, at least from what he'd seen in books. It felt as though it had been designed and built with actual funding, rather than just hastily thrown together by a poor town looking for somewhere to drown its sorrows in relative comfort. Eight polished oak tables played host to a slew of twenty-something drunken stallions and the occasional mare to keep them riled up. Along the left wall, behind the bar, was a cabinet packed with bottles running the whole spectrum from wine to champagne to spirits.

Especially notable was the massive stage in the back; rather, the thick, shiny steel pole riveted to its floor and ceiling. A dejected looking earth pony mare with a mauve coat and dazzling, if not short and modest yellow mane danced unfeelingly around it, eliciting the occasional drunken roar from her shameless audience. The look in her eyes told the tale, and Arcanus briefly imagined one of the mares in his life in such a demeaning... profession.

"'canus? She's probably taken."

"As are you."

End result: he'd stared a little too long. Long enough to catch the attention of a grumbling Aurora and highly amused Moonthistle.

"Y-yeah, right," Arcanus said sheepishly, tearing his eyes away and pushing ahead toward the bar. He felt out of place, noting that pretty much every set of eyes in the establishment belonged to an earth pony, with only the occasional pegasus, and certainly not a unicorn in sight. The bartender looked up from the glass he was cleaning and gave him a wary look. "Dost... thou have any rooms available?"

"Depends who's askin'," the cream-coated stallion replied gruffly. "What business y'all have'n Pony'borough?" The uncoordinated noise filling the room died down momentarily, as though everypony in there was interested in what these strange visitors had to say.

"We are here to meet with your governor," Aurora took over when it became apparent Arcanus was taken aback by the attitude. "We come in peace, and do not seek trouble or to inconvenience you. We need one... make that two day's lodging, in a single room with at least two beds."

"With meals, I hope? I'm starving, and my hooves feel like they've been sandblasted-"

"Mouth is open, 'thistle. Should be shut," Aurora hissed. "... With meals, if possible."

The bartender looked the three foreign unicorns up and down, though not in an overtly pervy manner. Rather, his lavender eyes seemed to only betray the same two emotions every other pony around there seemed to feel in response to this unannounced visit—mistrust, and possibly... contempt? Like the surreptitiously aggressive way the natives of a conquered land would regard the foreign forces keeping order, or something.

"... Fifteen bits per night for one room," the bartender stated, smirking at Moonthistle as he handed Aurora a rusty old key. "Including morning and evening meals."

"Deal," Aurora conceded without hesitation, pulling a small pouch from her modest saddlebag. She noticed the blackboard to her left that proudly displayed the available meals, including tonight's special, in messy chalk writing; thank Celestia for the precision of unicorn magic! As hungry and in need of a glass of wine as she was, she knew they'd best get the room sorted before digging into dinner. "You two, head upstairs and get settled."

Despite the looming issue of splitting two beds between three ponies, Arcanus was pleasantly surprised to find the matter was handled with dignity and maturity; Aurora and Moonthistle, being mares, would share one bed, while the lone colt got the other. With the exception of an inevitable fillyfooling joke from Moonthistle, the whole thing went over smoothly.

Arcanus wasted no time unpacking the thick books he'd brought along for 'light' reading. Meanwhile, Aurora sparked the fireplace to life with a little blast of what she did best, and proceeded to assemble what looked to be a portable chess set. She withdrew a scroll with various letter and number combinations written across it and, with a glow of her horn, the chess pieces began to move according to the instructions.

"Still not over it, huh?" Moonthistle facehoofed at the pre-recorded chess game playing out before her. "That was months ago, 'rora."

Arcanus looked up from his book. "Over what?"

"She got thrashed by her sister." Aurora glared at her. "What?"

"It's not exactly a point of pride to me, 'thistle. I don't talk about her- about it, for a reason."

Moonthistle rolled her eyes. "Yes, because problems between sisters just go away if they ignore them, right?" Those words struck Arcanus hard, as certain memories resurfaced. Celestia herself wasn't here to feel hurt, so her faithful protege would have to fill in by proxy. Moonthistle seemed vaguely aware of this effect, and smiled awkwardly. "Erm..."

Arcanus waved her off, instead focusing on his new train of thought. It had occasionally come up that Aurora and her older sister Belphegor weren't exactly on the best of terms, but he'd avoided prodding for details the way a filly would poking a beehive to see what was inside. Still, he had just the way to sort-of divert the gloomy subject.

"Thou playest chess? I didn't know that," said Arcanus, taking a seat opposite the seething crimson mare. "We should have a game sometime."

"Right now?" Arcanus nodded, and Aurora immediately ceased the replay spell. The pieces shuffled through the air, clicking and bouncing off one another like a swarm of wooden crickets as they retook their default positions. She cracked her neck back and forth. "White, or black?"

"White," Arcanus said with a shrug, watching as Aurora used an impressive coordination of magic to both spin the board like a turbine and keep all the pieces in place. He hadn't played a game of chess in a good long while, and even then Celestia had introduced him to it as more of a mental exercise to help get the magic flowing. Going with a fairly standard opening, he plucked his king's pawn and moved it to E4.

Aurora began to channel some magic of her own, but as seconds turned into minutes and her forehead turned into a sweaty surf board, it became clear that whatever she was trying just wasn't working. Arcanus looked to her side of the board, and immediately knew why; her queen side knight was positively sweating drops of magical energy, rippling and blurring like the horizon on a sweltering summer's day.

Great chess masters of the age, Celestia herself included, would often use a minor reality bending spell derived from chaos magic to warp their pieces into place, instead of simply moving them with standard unicorn telekinesis. Not only did it give the illusion of great mental fortitude, but it was a way to intimidate one's opponent.

Talented as she was, Aurora couldn't do it. Arcanus himself couldn't do it. It stood to reason that whomever had shown her the trick had been insufferably smug about it, and three guesses who it could have been...

"As much fun as it'd be to watch you two stare each other down for hours," Moonthistle drawled, giving a fake yawn to remove the growing tension from the scene, "I'm not letting you spend our time here locked away in the room. We're going downstairs to have a drink."

"This isn't a vacation, 'thistle..." Aurora said, calming down and wiping the sweat from her brow. Still, her fatigue was apparent. Arcanus raised an eyebrow; he'd only tried it once and given up quickly, but was chaos magic really that strenuous? "We're here on business, not for adventure. Unless attempting to defuse a damn intention to secede is a walk in the park for you."

"No, but that's how an adventure starts." Moonthistle grinned at the grumpy mare, unintimidated by her old friend's attitude. "But, Ms Serious-about-her-work, I reiterate—how 'bout we go downstairs, buy a drink, and maybe chat up a local for some intel and insight into this town?"

Moonthistle was out the door before anyone could respond, leaving her friends clambering to keep up.

Don't Be That Mare

"Mine!" Moonthistle declared, bearing her teeth playfully as she pounced on the sole free table in the entire establishment. Satisfied her claim wasn't threatened, she quietly hopped off with a sheepish grin as her associates took their seats at her side, facing the stage. "It's nice to share a drink once in awhile. What're we getting?" she asked, reclining on the stool as she waved over the waitress.

"Ladies first," said Arcanus, gesturing for Aurora or Moonthistle to order first. The latter waved him on ahead, while the former studied the blackboard through narrowed eyes brows as though it held the meaning of life. He smiled awkwardly under the waitress' world-weary scowl, but she didn't return the sentiment. Her grim, self-aware expression and sullen eyes told the tale: a mare hired to serve double duty of taking orders and looking hot. "I will have..." he started, "... the large serving of hayfries, please."

"Hayfries, large..." the mare rasped in an aged, gravelly tone resembling that of a heavy smoker. She pulled a quill and parchment from the little holster strapped to her left foreleg — a primitive yet clever way of taking notes without magic, Arcanus figured — and began to jot the order down somewhat awkwardly. Arcanus briefly considered lending a hoof, but one look in her eyes dispelled the idea. She didn't want to be there in the first place, and the last thing she was prepared to tolerate was his pity. "Sauce?"

"None," Arcanus amended, bowing politely before tilting his head in Moonthistle's direction.

"Methinky... something healthy..." Moonthistle mused, bringing a hoof to her chin and humming in a needless indication that she was still, in fact, paying attention. The waitress' scowl deepened, and she rolled her eyes as the inebriated stallions behind her began to take notice of their unobstructed view of her rump. Barely ten seconds later, Moonthistle gave in to laziness and hunger, rolling her eyes for an entirely different reason. "Bleh. Make that two large hayfries, with hotsauce."

"Aurora?" Arcanus asked, clearing his throat and shifting his gaze to the mare in question.

No response.

"C'mon 'rora, the lady's waiting—"

"I see that, 'thistle," Aurora replied in even monotone without taking her eyes off the blackboard. "I will not rush something as important as diet. Informed decisions take time, and I happen to care what I put in my body," she stated poshly, though betraying the act by taking just enough time out of her 'decision making' to fix upon her friend a cocky smirk."It's why I look so much better than you."

"Whereas some of us are just naturally good-looking," Moonthistle countered with a shrug, shooting Arcanus a smug grin that beckoned him to say something. He wisely resisted the urge to take the bait, though. Being best friends with two women had taught him some of the most important words in his life: 'keep thy mouth shut.'

"I will have," Aurora continued quickly without acknowledging Moonthistle's comment, fixing her eyes upon the last, and most expensive, item on the list. "The fuchsia dish with a side dressing of nasturtium and saltbush salad."

Moonthistle and the waitress shared a look that, as the seconds passed, transitioned from one end of the condescension–pity spectrum to the other. For a mare as composed, educated and dignified as Aurora, and with all her experience mingling with the upper class, she could be downright clueless at times.

"What?" she saw fit to clarify, turning her nose up in a gesture of sheer audacity. "It's not Canterlot dining, but it's the closest thing to quality I'm likely to get out here in this wasteland."

"Thou talkest too much, Aurora," Arcanus commented, beating Moonthistle and whatever undoubtedly witty remark she had lined up to the punch. "We didn't say anything."

"And to drink?" asked the waitress through their banter, visibly irked by the crimson mare's attitude. Plus, her flanks were still on display for the rude louts behind her, and the impertinent stalling of these outsiders was to blame. Sure, the pay was... tolerable, she knew, but there always came a time when the ogling of one's body shifted from 'vaguely flattering' to 'disrespectfully obnoxious.'

The trio momentarily dropped their conversation as their eyes immediately set upon the admittedly sizable list of wines, champagnes and spirits on offer. Even Aurora seemed quietly impressed, judging from her thoughtful expression. At least this town had some sense of taste.

"A glass of..." Moonthistle began, but trailed to stall for time while scanning the list for her favourite wine. She liked to consider herself an adaptable drinker. Beer, malt, cider, champagne, fortifieds, spirits — she wasn't a particularly picky partygoer. But, like any mare, she did subscribe to her share of personal preferences. FInding precisely what she was after — toward the top of the list, at that — she grinned a little too enthusiastically, like a filly opening an early Hearth Warming Eve present. Black label, imitation gold labeling... "Fillyerna Reserva, please."

Aurora scoffed quietly. Just not quietly enough. Instead, she'd succeeded only in drawing attention to the fact that the pony with such unrefined tastes happened to be her friend. Fillyerna Reserva was an old, cheaply mass-produced reserve wine that boasted high alcohol content, questionable taste that leaned toward the acidic end of sweetness, and an overall good kick for one's bits — perfect for the labourer on a budget.

'Tis *reserved** for the bottom rung'* as the phrase went.

"And now, moving on to those with a shred of taste," Aurora announced gruffly. She'd laced it with more than the tad hint of venom she'd intended, but had little choice but to run with it; apologizing mid-admonishment would wreck the effect, after all. "I would opt for a glass of Chateau Maregaux."

"Dusting off the top shelf, are we?" Moonthistle taunted, casually eyeing the waitress up and down while her attention was diverted to the still-musing Arcanus. "H-hold on... I think I feel a sneeze..."

Arcanus reviewed the list of available drinks coming up on a fourth time, seemingly detached from the verbal sparring going on in his midst. He sighed as, once again, the list turned up nothing to his liking and the reason why just didn't seem to click.

"Laugh it up, 'thistle," said Aurora. "Is it so wrong that I enjoy a drink that's even vaguely enjoyable?"

"Long as it's got alcohol in it, it's good enough for me," the hard-drinking partygoer replied. "Nothin' glamorous about grog to begin with. Everypony knows what it does to us." She closed her eyes halfway, and lowered her tone almost to one of seduction. "... to me."

"Standards and a sense of dignity are what separate us from the animals, 'thistle," Aurora retorted, intentionally leaving it vague whether she was talking about uncouth drinking habits or sarcastic parodies of seduction anymore. She stole a glance at Arcanus, whose attention was still held by the blackboard, and smirked. "Well, two-thirds of 'us' at least."

Oblivious to his inclusion in the discussion, Arcanus ran his eyes down the list one last time, and finally realised the problem. The list favoured hard spirits and inappropriately prestigious champagnes, and what little alternative he could see was composed almost entirely of...

Tavern, he thought dismally, searching his memories for the full definition.

His earlier years of study had focused more on standard language and arithmetic skills, as opposed to the comparatively specialist field of magical theory. Students of the crown were expected to reflect positively upon their academic benefactors throughout society, and ergo, their education included dictionary definitions, cultural connotations and other such elements of social and historical know-how.

In context, all of this boiled down to one simple truth: he knew what 'tavern' actually meant, and didn't like it.

... An establishment intended to provide lodging to travellers, a service colloquially known as 'bed and breakfast,' while doubling as a local bar... specializing in wine. By contrast, an inn usually offers [the vastly more preferable] beer and malt.

Arcanus of the House of Silvermane, superstar of the Canterlot senior magic class, and for all intents and purposes 'teacher's pet' to the Princess herself sat stunned, his desire for a drink utterly defeated where it stood; thrwarted by an old country business practice.

"... Just a bottle of water, please," he said through a defeated sigh, eyeing the irascible mares to either side of him and noting they seemed barely a hair's breadth from drinking each other the table, "... and three glasses."

It took the better part of a minute for the drinks to come, but that minute could best be described as a tense lull. Aurora and Moonthistle exchanged fiery glares, having postponed their egotistical jousting until they were better armed with the world's most famous catalyst for cataclysmic calamities, or 'alcohol.' They barely acknowledge Arcanus at all, giving him time to slip back into an old habit that the whirlwind of a fledgling marriage had all but eliminated from his schedule.

Brooding.

Until this adventure came along, Arcanus had to confess that he had spent every night since the wedding alone with his wife. Every night. Undisturbed. For a young stallion still smitten with his first love, suddenly going without this luxury was like giving up water for a day — in the desert. Sure, Aurora and Moonthistle were excellent company (when they got along), but even they couldn't alleviate the emptiness he felt. The emptiness brought on by the absence of the mare he loved, with whom he slept amidst the warmth of a loving embrace, and to whom he had given his heart.

"I can't live without her!" Then how didst thou live before her?

It was one of those old cliches he had so mercilessly scrutinized in his earlier, 'unenlightened' years; the same cliche that more recent experience had so bluntly proven had some semblance of truth to it. Thousands before him had spoken of the joys of love, and he had disregarded their words. His mother would occasionally drop the hint, often using his father as an allegory, and he'd disregarded her words. Even his mentor herself had urged him to explore it, and only at her order did he finally take a shot.

And they'd all been right.

For reasons he couldn't translate into words, he found his gaze idly returning to the dancing mare... or, more specifically, the blank look reflected in her otherwise prominent silver eyes. Did she have a special somepony waiting for her at home, every night begging her to stay put instead of exhibiting her body to drunken louts for a living? Or was it the reverse; was she the one worrying herself to death over her husband who worked himself to death in the fields while the Canterlot elite dismissed his entire life with a thought?

Did they find time for each other? Did they compromise? Did they fight? Arcanus had never fought with Stella, unless immature nitpicking and teasing counted; he considered her too precious to even consider subjecting her to something like that.

Whatever the case, Arcanus flinched as the dancer's eyes briefly fell upon his. And again. And a third time, only now she kept them there. Surprisingly, in a moment usually reserved for bad romantic drama, her eyes suddenly seemed to ignite with life and energy; a glow that gradually grew the longer the contact persisted, like there was something about him that interested her.

Typically, it also caught the attention of a slightly snarkier pair of observers.

“Again with the ogling, ‘canus?” Aurora prodded with an amused smile from behind her raised, recently-arrived wine glass. “You seem to have caught her eye this time, too.”

“Give the kid a break, it’s not his fault,” Moonthistle said with a giggle, waving a hoof dismissively as she sniffed at her own glass, reveling in its tell-tale odor with a fond reminiscence. Smell was inversely proportional to flavour with this particular wine, and this one smelled positively pungent. Apparently satisfied, she proceeded to down half the glass in one swig, her eyelids slacking to dreamy honeymoon levels. “He is the best-looking guy here.”

Arcanus immediately returned his eyes to those of his friends, blushing lightly, but the damage had been done. Aurora wore a look of mild concern mixed with a hint of amusement, while Moonthistle indulged herself fully in the latter. Sure, he couldn’t exactly deny the dancer was hot, but he was married! It wasn’t like that! The ‘feelings’ this dancing vixen evoked were pure physical attraction, nothing more. Understanding that such primal reactions didn’t just disappear after marriage, for either party, was key to maintaining a healthy relationship.

A point proven all too well in the past; relationships crumbling because a stallion picked the wrong time to sneak a peek, and found the mare at their side impossible to reason with from that moment forward.

“Maybe so,” Aurora replied neutrally, sniffing the fruity scent of wine to appreciate both its potency and ability to overpower the suffocating blanket of sweaty stallion aroma saturating the already humid room, before taking a calculated sip. “She’s rather attractive, I will admit, but is she not a little old?”

Why are they discussing this like I intend to flirt with a stranger? Arcanus wondered, remaining as tactfully detached from the exchange as possible while an unwelcome feeling of self-conscious fluster stirred in his sweaty brow. Thankfully, the arrival of their drinks had presented him the much-needed option of water, and he hastily set about popping the cork off the sealable glass bottle and pouring himself a glass.

“Oh, no doubt,” Moonthistle replied offhandedly with nonchalant confidence one would usually reserve for rattling off their three times tables. The fact that she more than agreed with Aurora’s assessment went without saying. “She’s definitely cute, despite her… age. These dancers are often hired for their looks.”

“I guess that’s why she’s the one dancing for our entertainment and not you, then,” Aurora jabbed with a playful smirk, narrowing her eyes victoriously. It immediately felt like a premature celebration for Moonthistle merely laughed sincerely, raising a hoof in apparent concession as she took an uncharacteristically calculated sip of wine.

“Oh, we’ve been over that, silly,” she replied finally, swirling around what little wine remained in her mouth, letting the sweet taste of alcohol permeate every inch of her maw before swallowing and fixing upon her longtime friend the exact same smirk. For added effect, she dropped the jovial laugh and adopted a formal address as though speaking to a customer. “If you want a private lap dance, and I bet you would, you'll have to get in line."

“I think we may be straying from the point here, ‘thistle. Besides, we both know I could do so much better."

"Perhaps if thou art willing to part with a few bits. Just know I don't come cheap." Moonthistle grinned, with all the self-assured enthusiasm of a colt who’d just won his first game of gay chicken, which was almost precisely what she was. Aurora offered no reply besides a lighthearted scowl. “Well, here's a chance to prove thy mettle."

“What?”

Moonthistle nodded toward the stage. "She's coming over here."

As one, the trio looked to the stage, and sure enough, the dancer appeared to have finished her shift and was making her way toward them, mid-conversation with what was most likely to be her replacement. She kept her eyes mostly on them too — removing any doubt that she was simply making her way home. She was definitely headed their way.

Aurora hummed with thoughtful maturity.

Moonthistle beamed with childlike glee.

Arcanus facehoofed, wondering just what direction the night was about to take.

The mauve-coated mare rounded the table and gave them a polite, moderately submissive bow. “Evenin’. Please pardon mah intrusion,” she began in an accent Arcanus couldn’t quite place, “but ah saw this cutie over 'ere makin’ eyes at me. If ah may, yer the best-lookin’ guy here.”

“Y’know, I’ve been saying that for years,” Moonthistle said, giggling as Arcanus blushed oh-so-awkwardly. Her horn shimmered with a deep blue aura as she pushed out one of the stools opposite her. “Thou art more than welcome to join us.”

"Thank ya kindly," the dancer said, taking a seat and smiling almost flirtatiously at Arcanus. "If ah had to guess... this here one's a young ambassador on a weekend away from the wife? Lookin' for a li'l loveless fun off the record, cutie?"

"What happens in Pony'borough stays in Pony'borough," Moonthistle said with a perverted grin, nudging Arcanus teasingly. Aurora rolled her eyes, yet made little effort to disguise her own mirth. "I like where this is going!"

"I-I'm flattered, Miss, but I must decline," Arcanus's blush deepened much to his chagrin as he cursed himself for the stammer. He was no stranger to being hit on, but having a prostitute offer herself to him as a married colt went way beyond awkward. He raised his left foreleg to flash a well-polished volcanic glass wedding bangle, forged by Aurora herself in substitue for a more traditional wedding gift. "My marriage is perfectly stable and consummate. With due respect, I'm sure thy services are for a noble end, but I'm not interested."

"But I might be," Moonthistle chimed in, turning her attention to the dancer. Without breaking eye contact, she reached into her saddlebag to procure... something. "What services are we talking?"

The dancer let the provocative smirk drop, its place taken by an apathetic yet not entirely impolite pout. "Ah don't make it habit'a doin' mares—"

Moonthistle suddenly dropped a tightly-packed bit pouch onto the thick wooden table, the resulting thud interjecting far more bluntly than any words ever could hope to.

"— often, but ah'm known to make exceptions. What'dya have in mind?" She looked up to find one of the burly kitchen hands had arrived with the guests' food, the strong wooden frame strapped to his back delicately balancing the three plates in lieu of the other races' inherent advantages. "On second thought, ah'm not gonna intrude on yer evenin'. Ah can come back later—"

"Nonsense," Moonthistle stated with inarguable finality, shaking the glass bottle of hotsauce in her telekinetic grip before pouring it indiscriminately all over her hayfries. She pushed the plate toward the middle of the table, and motioned for the mare to take what she wanted. "Pull up a chair and dig in. What's thy name?"

"Tricks."

"As in... oh, hah." Moonthistle grinned teasingly, earning a frown for her efforts. "As in 'Turning' Tricks?"

"Perceptive," Tricks said sardonically, rolling her eyes and sighing. "Yep, ah sure had prophetic parents. Sometimes ah wonder if they somehow knew I'd end up livin' up to it. Ah s'pose yer gonna laugh it up like all the rest?"

"Wouldn't dream of it," Moonthistle said before Tricks even finished that sentence, her demeanour turning cold in a heartbeat. Her face took on a serious, unreadable expression not unlike that of a featureless stone mask, as she studied the dancer with thoughtful eyes. Had he not known better, Arcanus could have sworn that her coat darkened a little. "A single mother working herself to death so her daughter can have food really doesn't need us 'higher orders' making jokes at her expense."

Moonthistle's words came in such a grim, steady, calculated tone that all parties present were caught off-guard; Arcanus and Aurora were unused to seeing the bubbly partygoer speak with such thinly disguised seriousness, while Tricks had a more short-term query in mind...

"... How'd ya know?" she asked, raising an eyebrow in sincere surprise.

Moonthistle immediately lightened up a bit, but it was clear that a nerve had been struck, and such nerves never settled quickly. "The soulless look in thine eyes. A mare that hates herself for what she's doing, but loves the pony she's doing it for a whole lot more."

Tricks confirmed this brutally accurate assessment with a nod, but made no verbal attempt to interrupt.

"Nopony sells their body for a quick buck without darn good reason," Moonthistle continued, scowling at her now-empty wine glass, "and I can think of few better than feeding a child." Her expression warmed as she smiled in that 'female commenting on another female's looks' kind of way. She motioned toward the dancer's flank. "Also, thou hast that slight residue of post-childbirth body fat that never really goes away."

"... And?" Tricks asked quietly, respecting this verdant mare she'd only just met even more with every spoken word. "How'd ya know it was a filly?"

The last remnants of Moonthistle's melancholic somberness drained from her face as her former vibrance was restored. "Eh. Fifty-fifty."

"What a..." Aurora began in an attempt to end the ensuing silence, fumbling for the right words but masking it expertly with a dignified pause, "... remarkably lucid thing to say, 'thistle."

Moonthistle proved her good humour was back by sticking out her tongue and winking. "Full eight hours of sleep, silly."

"Y'all gonna be stayin' in town long?" asked Tricks. "'Cause ah think ah'm takin' a likin' to ya. Ah'm sure mah daughter will too."

"Just a few days," said Arcanus, finally willing to take part in the conversation by answering a question he knew he could answer. "We're here on behalf of Canterlot to resolve a political dispute."

"Interestin'. Ah presume this's about that whole 'secedin' thing," said Tricks, smirking at Moonthistle's empty glass. "And, yet... yer first night here, ya head to the waterhole, get plastered and solicit a callmare?" Moonthistle returned the smirk, as if to say 'guilty as charged.' "Ah can get behind that."

"Speaking of which..." said Moonthistle, pushing the bit pouch closer to Tricks and twitching her eyebrows suggestively.

"Ah, yeah," Tricks replied, as the topic of business once again took over. "Ah greatly appreciate yer concern, but ah always pay mah way. So ah'll ask again. What'd ya have in mind?"

Moonthistle shook her head. "I'm not taking advantage of a poor single mother. Get thyself and thy daughter something real to eat tonight."

"But ah can't rightly just take yer money without givin'—"

"That's what I was getting to," Moonthistle said warmly, taking Tricks's hoof with her own and placing it upon the pouch. She was once again reminded how much softer a mare's hooves were compared to a stallion's. Any other night, something as simple as this touch would have left her pining for a lot more, but tonight wasn't the time. "All I ask is in exchange is that thou givest us some... info."

"Info?"

"Intelligence. Basic insight into the workings of the town," Aurora took over. "Some understanding into what manner the town's leadership thinks, and to how we may convince them that secession is not the answer."

"Well..." Tricks turned around and motioned toward the largest, and certainly loudest table, around which six stallions were engaged in some kind of alcohol-fueled card game between their various outbursts of profanity and lewdness. "These louts'd be the best place to start. Together they own most'a the town's money, and every night they gather 'round that table and... 'redistribute' it."

"Gambling?" asked Aurora, whose query was confirmed almost immediately when one of the stallions slammed a hoof down on the table and shouted a string of profanity.

"Yup. For the most part, this town's yer average peasant village, full'a dirt poor farmers," Tricks qualified regretfully. "Most'a the money's tied up in the town hall and the tavern. The six at that table? Ah know at least one of 'em's the mayor, and another's the owner'a this tavern."

"Sounds like an unstable setup," said Moonthistle.

"Indeed," Aurora agreed. "What they would save without mandatory tribute and the various taxes, they would more than lose without the kingdom's support in many other areas. What tangible advantage could they possibly seek to gain by seceding? Besides what the court believes they seek, anyway..."

Arcanus regarded those last words carefully, curious as to why Aurora emphasized that particular word as though she wasn't sure herself. What was there to doubt? His experience at the Sun Court left him with what he believed was a clear understanding of the issue: the outer villages were preyed upon by bandits due to their isolation, and Canterlot's apparent 'refusal' to come to their defence had led to a feeling of...

Underappreciation for their efforts. Ignorance of their importance. Being taken for granted.

Arcanus, more than most, knew from experience to what lengths a determined pony would go to escape that situation. Nopony had dared voice the fact, but this crisis bore an uncomfortable resemblance to a certain other crisis not so long ago; the same crisis that had served to set the stage for this one in the first place.

Then, to muddy the issue further, there was the supposed idea that these outer villages felt a personal 'respect' for Luna herself, and her banishment had seeded in her unacknowledged 'followers' a grudge. Given Luna's present disposition, such a grudge would be difficult to placate...

Bah. All he could do was pray the talk of secession was a bluff. A misguided stand by petulant peasants too far-removed from modern politics to truly understand the delicate line Celestia was forced to walk. Something that, with the formal ministrations of an ambassador and presentation of a letter detailing Celestia's sincere intentions to mend relations between the social classes, he prayed would easily be defused.

All of that could come to pass as early as tomorrow, if he played his cards right — and if Moonthistle didn't drink herself into a head-splitting hangover by dawn.

"So, thou sayest to squeeze those guys for info, eh..."

Arcanus, roused by the words of the more volatile of his two friends and the mischievous tone in which they were said, came out of his reflection just in time to see Moonthistle sauntering over to the card table.

"What art thou doing?" said Arcanus, asking the obvious.

Moonthistle paused to look back and offer a smug grin. Extending her magic, she plucked both her plate of hayfries and a fresh wine glass she'd somehow had time to order, and expertly set them to orbit around her head in opposite directions. An ostentatious display of magical showmanship at its finest. "Gathering intel. Wanna take notes?"

"Well, lookie what we got 'ere," said one of the stallions, an orange-coated earth pony, as he moved aside to give Moonthistle a place to sit. He licked his lips overtly, and let forth the stench of alcohol with a deep breath. "Ah've lost a lotta money to these grunts, but maybe this evenin's lookin' up after all."

Moonthistle grinned at him. "Oh, I know. I'm one hot piece."

"Quite," another stallion joined in. "Ya here to dance for us?"

"Actually, I thought I'd get in on this." Moonthistle reached into her saddlebag to retrieve more bits. The plate stopped in front of her mouth just long enough to offer her a soggy, hotsauce-drenched hayfry. "Unless you're scared of getting cleaned out by a girl?"

"She's got spunk," the stallion opposite her said with a hearty laugh, kicking out a stool just hard enough that it fell short of actually hitting her. "Ya heard the lady. Give her some room."

"Thanks," she said, taking a seat and rolling her neck. "Minimum bet?"

"Three hundred."

With little more than a raised eyebrow, she withdrew her hoof from her saddlebag and supplied exactly that. Soon enough, she was dealt her five cards, which she quickly arranged and began to study.

"Since when is Moonthistle a card player?" Arcanus whispered to Aurora, as they lined up behind the mare in question — carrying their own meals and modestly working their way through them — to watch her play. Tricks took her place at their side, envying the city mare's disposable wealth and willingness to part with it so easily.

"Oh, her whole family are into this sort of thing," Aurora replied coldly. Contemptuously. Disapprovingly. "There's quite a history behind that heritage."

Arcanus began to put two and two together, but it didn't actually hit him until Moonthistle diverted a tiny portion of magic to sort her cards into ascending order with more finesse than he'd ever seen. He'd always wondered about the histories of the various noble families; how they had become noble in the first place. His own and those of his friends were no exception, but Moonthistle's had always been especially curious.

Yet now, he felt stupid for not realising it sooner. Moonthistle's smooth-talking charm, and her saddlebag of tools? Aurora's constant quips and belittling, well-intentioned as they were? The fact they didn't see eye to eye on social issues, particularly the caste system? By all implications, Moonthistle's family wasn't highborn.

They were professional gamblers that played the game right.

"Raise fifty," said the orange stallion as he pushed the bits into the pot. He clearly needed to work on his act, because he couldn't resist the urge to grin at whatever hand he had.

Moonthistle suspended her wine glass's orbit to take a sip before letting it resume unfettered, taking clear note of the stallion's tell. "... Call." The rest of the table followed through with their choices, and soon enough, it was time for the showdown.

Arcanus looked upon Moonthistle's hand, feeling the tension mount even though he didn't even have a stake in the game. She gave little indication as to her true feelings, such was her composure in this craft, but he didn't fancy her chances with such a junky hand. She held a three of spades, four of diamonds, seven of diamonds, the joker of spades and, finally, the queen of hearts — represented by Celestia herself.

"Well, boys, whatcha got?" she asked, expertly suppressing her emotions. One by one, the stallions played their hands. They mostly had rubbish not unlike her own, but the clincher came with the revelation of an eight-high diamond flush, which easily trumped all the competition. "Well, shoot. But it happens!" she said, this time clearing her throat and magically raising her wine glass a little as though offering a toast. "May Princess Luna cast fortune upon this table and all beneath her everlasting gaze."

Not one pony reacted to her proclamation in any meaningful way, or at least not beyond the usual grumbling that accompanied the loss of large sums of money.

"Alrighty, let's go again!" Moonthistle said enthusiastically, as though she hadn't just lost 480 bits. She hastily finished her wine, ordered another, and got to work sorting through her newest hand. This time, she was dealt a two of clubs, eight of hearts, joker of diamonds, joker of clubs and lastly, the king of clubs. Arcanus found his interest piqued by that last card, for it bore a design he had never seen before.

As it turned out, while the queens of hearts and diamonds depicted Celestia while clubs and spades depicted Luna, it seemed the kings of all four suits were represented by a single mystery pony — a sky blue alicorn with bright silver wings and a majestic golden horn. The contours of this nameless male alicorn's body seemed sharper than most, as though his body was closer to a statue than anything organic, and the paintwork gave his coat a reflective, almost crystalline feel.

More than anything, Arcanus was fascinated by the prospect of another true alicorn having existed — or still existing? — at some point in history without him knowing about it. More to the point, without Celestia having seen fit to mention him.

At any rate, Moonthistle proceeded with the obvious move and discarded the two and eight. The second round opened, and saw her luck change significantly through the addition of the queens of both clubs and spades to her hand. The two renditions of Princess Luna smiled up at her, blessing her with both a shot at victory and the perfect trigger for her next test.

"Anythin' good over there?" one of the stallions asked Moonthistle, having noticed that she'd let her iron facade drop for a moment.

"Ask me again in twenty seconds," Moonthistle returned calmly, inverting the order of her cards several times in rapid succession, as though opening and closing the blinds on a window, for no purpose other than to show off.

Those twenty seconds passed, and apparently the stallion saw fit to take her offer literally. Moonthistle, too, was a mare of her word, and happily obliged. "Well, here goes." She put her cards down first, revealing the winning hand via two pair — jokers and queens. She collected the pot with a victorious grin, more than covering her earlier loss, and added: "Apparently, I held Princess Luna's favour tonight. Years of homage courtesy of my family, the Selene clan, paid off after all!"

Again, no reaction.

"Well, it's been fun, boys," she said, rising to all four hooves and immediately noticing the wine was beginning to compromise her balance. "But this filly has places to be. Maybe I'll drop by tomorrow night for some real late night fun, if y'all can keep up with me."

"Oh, we'll be here," the orange stallion said with an equal parts perverted and competitive grin, his own alcohol-addled mind apparently mixing the signals and interpreting both at once. "Just bring plenty more of those juicy bits..."

With one final smile, Moonthistle pocketed her newly acquired bits and rejoined the group as they returned to the table. Aurora spoke up first.

"So? What'd you learn?"

"The orange one's poker face needs work, the grey one's left ear twitches when he bluffs—"

"Naw. I mean, what pertinent information did you glean from that little display of debauchery? I assume you were testing some kind of theory?"

"Oh, yeah," Moonthistle said in mock revelation, as though she'd just awoken from a fever dream on a steamboat in the middle of nowhere before realising the ticket was glued to her forehead and she reeked of poison joke oil. "The secession has nothing to do with any allegiance to Luna. Whoever said that, 'canus, is either misinformed or a liar."

"How do you figure that?"

"First I talked about Luna blessing us," Moonthistle explained simply, with the practiced condescending inflection one would use when lecturing a child. "Then I suggested that she favoured me, and let loose that my family have long-standing ties of allegiance to her. No reaction whatsoever from ponies who are supposed to be using outrage over her banishment as an excuse to secede from the most powerful kingdom in the world."

"So... there's little more we can do until we meet with the governor tomorrow?" said Arcanus.

Moonthistle shrugged. "Well, we can always drink."

"I think I'm a little tired for that," Arcanus conceded, looking down to find he'd finished his food without noticing. "I may have to take my leave for tonight, ladies. It was an honour to meet thee, Tricks."

"Likewise, cutie," Tricks said with a wink.

"Night, 'canus. We won't be far off. I'm sure if thou dreamest about thy lovely Stella, thou wilt sleep like a baby," said Moonthistle in an exaggeratedly cutesy voice, waving as Arcanus bowed politely before them and went upstairs. She looked back and forth between Aurora and Tricks, and formed a mischievous grin, before stating the obvious: "Girl talk time."

"Why do you tease him like that?" Aurora asked.

"Because it amuses me," Moonthistle replied with the obvious, though without the malicious intent such a reply would usually entail. "I like seeing him get all flustered. It's cute. He misses his lovely Stella, but we can't let his senses get too dulled; he needs to remember what life's like for us unlucky singles."

"I'm sure it's not that bad, 'thistle," Aurora insisted. "It's only been a few days..."

"That's a long time for somepony coming down off a high," Moonthistle reasoned, to which no one offered disagreement. The elements of wisdom and maturity that found their way into her voice for those words, however, vanished just as quickly as they'd come: "'Specially since he got his first taste of nookie."

"That's hardly fitting language for the dinner table, 'thistle," Aurora scoffed, pursing her lips in disgust.

"Sorry, I can't help it," Moonthistle said half-heartedly while making a note to scratch, and thereby expose, her luscious neck. For a pony as laid-back as she was, her next words carried with them an uncharacteristic sense of vulnerability. "I mean, it's just... it's been awhile, y'know?"

Tricks grinned as the topic took a turn toward her interests. "Are ya always so upfront 'bout yer sex life?"

"I actually find that hard to believe, 'thistle," Aurora intervened before Moonthistle had a chance to reply. "Do you not have a special somepony?"

"Aye. Ah imagine gettin' a coltfriend ain't a challenge for a pretty little thing like yaself, dear," Tricks added. "Both of ya, honestly. Yer mighty fine lookin' mares, if ah may say so mahself."

"Eh," Moonthistle shrugged. "All the good ones seem to get away." She took one look toward the stairs, and by extension their room, and by further extension the oblivious knucklehead of a colt presumably snoring away inside, but that one look was all it took.

"Yeah, ah can tell," Tricks affirmed the unspoken. "Yer clearly close enough jus' the way ya are, but ya want somethin' more... and somethin' else's stoppin' ya, ain't it? Ah mean besides the fact he's married. Ah get the feelin' yer... well, feelin's have been goin' hot for quite some time now."

Moonthistle nodded.

"An' ah'll admit," Tricks continued, "that colt'd make one nice catch. He's handsome, humble, an' seems like a nice enough kinda guy. Ah envy the mare he calls his own."

Moonthistle's continued silence finally drove the point home: despite violating the traditional rules of "girl talk" she was not willing to discuss that particular topic further. Instead, she chose to divert the discussion elsewhere.

"I'm surviving, though. Most colts are oblivious, insensitive thickheads, but I'll find a good one someday. It's Aurora here I'm worried about. She's getting old. Her coat's fading, her memory's going, she's gaining weight. She'll be past her prime soon."

"My coat is not fading," Aurora hissed good-naturedly. "Besides, I have no interest in pursuing companionship right now."

"Good on ya," Tricks confirmed. "Don't try an' rush it. Ah don't believe love's a matter'a destiny, or some such nonsense. Ah believe we all have thousands of potential matches, all equally kind an' understandin' an' lovin'. If a colt'll seriously blow ya off 'cause of yer age? He was never in the game. The father of mah daughter was never in the game; ah just gave him the prize by mistake. Rushin' to settle down young will only land ya in my position. Don't be that mare."

Back In Time

With yet another mighty yawn, Arcanus reclined lazily in the deceptively comfortable bed and studied the array of magically-shrunken books he had suspended above his head like a rotating buffet table. His sore, heavy-lidded eyes and aching hooves threatened mutiny at any moment, while the blazing fireplace blanketed the room in a soothing layer of warmth – its own attempt at conspiring to coax the weary unicorn into the sweet reprieve of sleep.

He resisted. Such trivial matters as sleep could wait, especially when academic curiosity held them at proverbial knifepoint.

Smiling lazily, Arcanus plucked one particular large, pyrite-rimmed hardcover from the selection, dispelled the size enchantment with a thought, and ceased the levitation spell. The mass of books toppled messily around him, but he paid them no mind. Such an affront to works of literature would strike a nerve on any other night; tonight, he was way too tired to even notice.

How We Got Here: The Pre-Canterlotian Era of Ponykind

By Lady Hindlight

Personally recommended by the librarians of the royal archives, few history books depicting this era were more highly regarded than this one by professionals in the field of pre-classical history. Equally respected was its author, whose proffesionalism, maturity and penchant for symbolic quotations had famously made her work easily accessible and thoroughly entertaining to young and old scholars alike.

It was one he’d recently found a place for on his ‘to-do’ list. What better time than now?

Arcanus immediately skipped to the back of the sizable twenty-eight page glossary, mumbling the key word on tonight’s agenda in a vigorous attempt to keep his fatigued mind focused on the task at hand-

“Alicorn…”

Arcanus took a deep breath, knowing what he was about to do would only exhaust him further.

Opening his mind’s eye and tapping into his special talent, he began to scan the list from front to back at a swift pace most would never hope to match. Something about ‘increasing the chance of noticing other interesting footnotes to mark and come back to later.’ The technique was colloquially known as the ‘Encyclopaedia Expedition’ – or, alternatively, the ‘Ten Book Trick.’ It was a famous, unintentional time sink amidst historians all over Equestria.

Arcanus funnelled more magic into his horn, turning the pages faster to match his enhanced rate of reading comprehension. His dilated, rapidly blinking pupils scanned up and down the pages, capturing and comprehending every last detail while his subconscious analysed it all.

‘Windigo… ethereal embodiments of winter… siphons the physical and metaphysical ‘warmth’ from its surroundings…’

Of course, some details were considerably more interesting than others, and managed to bleed their way into his conscious mind…

‘Void God… hypothetical “fourth” primordial god… theorized to complete the elemental “Balanced Compass” model… existence implied by various anecdotes and unofficial studies into the origin of “dark magic”…’

‘Tartarus… prison fortress famous for containing most of pre-history’s surviving chaos flora and fauna… rendered inescapable by anti-magic seals, reinforced bars, and the ward of reformed demon Cerberus… oldest pony-made structure in recorded history…’

'Tantarian... pre-historical chaotic entity... characterized by eternal patience and an undying thirst for omniscience... thought to have vanished from history to spare itself death and/or incarceration within Tartarus... current whereabouts unknown...'

Before long, the pages were as leaves in a light breeze, barely comprehensible to even the quickest readers in the world, yet it changed nothing. Text and subtext alike, concepts and interpretations of such; all of it flew past Arcanus' mind's eye in a paradoxically clear haze.

'Midas... unicorn alchemist famed for his breakthroughs in the fields of metallurgy and transmutation... known to have devised a spell to transform any form of matter into flawless gold... evidence suggests his career occurred during the 2nd Canterlotian Century following the Age of Discord, but specifics are unknown... all traces of research and personal possessions unaccounted for...'

'Harmony... suggested by most mythologies to be one of the 'four gods' as per the "Balanced Compass" model, representing creation... the term also describes an abstract concept thought to represent cleansing and balance, said to manifest when its wielder empowers six righteous virtues by utilizing an array of cosmic vessels known as the Elements of Harmony... relation between the two iterations of the term unknown...'

'Geryon... King of the Old Crystal Empire... powerful unicorn famous for manifesting space–time magic, the first of its kind in history... aftermath of his despotic eleven year reign considered responsible for the Sundering of Ponykind and subsequent formation of the three tribes...'

'Dirt Dragon... earth-elemental immortal adult dragon, known for its place amidst the ensemble "Eight Dragons of Tartarus"... pre-historical carvings depict its sand breath as capable of shaving small mountains down to rubble, and sand-blasting ponies and their dwellings alike down to ash...'

Such was the nature of the young unicorn's special talent. While this act of 'speed reading' was very mentally draining, and generally didn't commit what it picked up to long-term memory, its ability to process and retain large amounts of detail in the short term was unsurpassed.

'Amdusias... one of seven lesser draconequi known as the Sons of Discord... best known for his defeat at the hooves of emerging Princess Celestia, representing the first casualty among Discord's followers toward the end of the Age... artist renderings depict a tall, steel-blue horse with four bladed, mantis-like wings and a large, sharply-curved horn.'

Arcanus cut the telekinesis spell on precisely the right page with expert precision, focusing on the particular term he was looking for as his mental processes came down from their accelerated high. He blinked a few times to ease the strain the ability had put on his already weary eyes; power at a price, and all that.

'... Alicorn. Colloquially designated 'winged unicorn.' The genetic and symbolic pinnacle of equine evolution; a pony whose inherent physical, spiritual and arcane magics have manifested in harmonious co-dominance.'

Unsurprisingly, the term appeared sparingly at best.

Alicorns were a rare commodity, and thus not exactly the most well-understood of topics. Some of the foremost scientific and historical authories still had yet to agree whether the issue came under the banner of natural biology or divinity, and it was hard to apply scientific scrutiny to such a hot issue. Even the royal sisters themselves, while clear physical examples of the concept, were notoriously tight-lipped with whatever insight they most likely had into the matter.

That wasn't to say that equine biology enthusiasts were completely clueless, of course. It was easy to hypothesize what the alicorn was, and how its abilities functioned; the real questions of where and why were the real buried treasure here.

Beneath the term was written a (short) list pertaining to its appearance. Each entry featured both the chapter name and page number in question, and the letters glowed with a subtle hue. Arcanus smirked; it was the tell-tale sign of an old enchantment he hadn't seen with any regularity since his first months under Celestia's tutelage.

The magilink spell.

Magilinks, or "magical bookmarks" were formed by immersing one's quill in a uniquely imbued ink, causing any word written with it to form a "shortcut" of sorts. Unicorn readers could then use the enchanted words to "jump" to whatever page the author had designated to be the target of such a "link."

In this case, the meaningful instances of 'alicorn' boiled down to three chapters: The Old Crystal Empire, Discord: Reign of Chaos and, perhaps most pertinently, Ponykind's Magical Heritage.

Settling on the latter, Arcanus concentrated a tiny wisp of magic on the tip of his horn and touched it to the enchanted words, barely having time to withdraw his muzzle before a barrage of pages whisked past to deposit him at the relevant section. Arcanus immediately rolled his eyes at the opening quote:

"Sometimes I ask myself,

"What am I doing here?

I think of all the reasons,

But it's still not clear."

-Lady Teresa Mane's "Back In Time": Verse 1 Line 1–4

Figures it would come from a love song, a most unwanted reminder that he'd be sleeping alone tonight, and all because the lyrics seemed vaguely relevant to the subject of evolutionary biology when taken out of context. Arcanus shook his head, and started reading.

"Ponykind's affinity for natural and arcane magics reaches back to its emergence as a sentient species, and likely even further. These magics, and the potential to employ them, are succeeded through bloodlines..." He yawned with equal parts boredom and genuine sleepiness. This was old news; alicorn controversy aside, it was widely known that ponykind's magical manifestations were hereditary. "... It is believed that all ponies possess these three magics, and that the 'races' are a result of one of these magics exhibiting mutually-exclusive dominance over the others. In laypony's terms, we are all unicorns, pegasi and earth ponies — just not simultaneously."

Arcanus stopped narrating to himself and skimmed the next few paragraphs; the patience of a sleepy unicorn didn't hold up tonight. He'd learned this stuff years ago. It was nothing new. Just a brief overview of each race's natural abilities, and a thinly veiled poke at the absurdity of considering oneself "highborn" because of a random gene manifestation at birth; an anti-racism message aimed squarely at the unicorn nobility if there ever was one.

"Unicorns..." Arcanus continued, laughing at the opening quote in one of the modest unicorn's rare moments of racial pride: 'Unicorns. If thou needst ask what we do, thou livest under a rock.' -Starswirl the Bearded. Apparently the legendary Starswirl the Bearded, tutor and mentor to some of history's most famous figures including the royal sisters themselves, had a sense of humour. Who knew? Perhaps that was the reason Celestia could be so coy...

"Oh, hah," Arcanus groaned the way one would at any other pun: genuinely entertained, but too uptight to admit it. He'd touched his horn to the magilinked words 'what we do' and found himself whisked, unexpectedly, to an article about the cycle of day and night. A basic "pot hole" trap with a stealth punchline, but a trap nonetheless. One thing was clear; he liked this author.

"Raising the sun is merely a matter of knowing where to apply pressure."

-Princess Celestia

The laughs stopped there, though. The unicorn subsection held the usual spiel; "arcane magic channeled via the horn," "limited reality warping," and the like. The only notable tidbit was an evasively-worded concession that "unicorn magic was the most 'versatile' of the racial abilities."

Political wording at its finest, Arcanus knew; replace 'most versatile' with 'best' and you got the real message. The next two sections also held nothing he didn't already know, as he realistically expected, but that didn't stop him from getting a kick out of the quotes:

"Read a book, neglect three. Memorize a spell, forget another. Power at a price, lest we all have it."

-Clover the Clever

"The skies are free and just. If we rule the skies, who could hope to rule us?"

-Commander Hurricane

"Nature checks and balances the pegasi and unicorns all the time. Those fancy wings and horns have their limits, but not us. The land itself is our power, and we will never give it up."

-Smart Cookie

The time for some real learning came, however, with the revelation of a fourth subsection: the crystal ponies. An obscure minority race, an anomaly of nature, warranting mention only because of a technicality. Still, academic curiosity had gotten him this far (past his bed time), and the old motto could keep him going for hours more: knowledge unlearned is knowledge yearned.

"Crystal... ponies..." Arcanus whispered through a yawn, fighting off the urge to retire right then and there. The fireplace continued its seductive work, the flames within dancing like a blazing temptress enticing him to bed, but that would be fixed. The fire could work to his advantage after all, as his own spells to the effect paled before Aurora's.

He amended his previous assertion: the old motto and coffee could keep him going for hours more.

Arcanus shifted his attention, and telekinetic grip, from the book to his bags. He shuffled around within one for a moment, before retrieving a small bag of powdered coffee, a glass bottle of water, and a little copper kettle - the elements of many a student's lifeblood. Igniting his horn, Arcanus felt his vision ripple like a disturbed pool, dissolving away only to reform with him sitting at the table.

Progress, he gleefully announced within the confines of his mind. He ran a mental checklist of the spell's components; spatial awareness, check; compensation for time dilation, check; frazzled mane, very definitely not a check. It was more of an 'okay, teleportation spell not yet mastered, but at least it didn't catch fire this time' kind of thing. Close...

Putting that aside, he went about his improvisation, boiling the kettle over the roaring fireplace and taking advantage of the otherwise dead time to stretch and roll his neck. He could have done this from the comfort of a squishy bed, to be honest, but balancing three or four objects at once, while easy with practice, wasn't a good idea in his mental state.

"Crystal ponies," Arcanus began again, now armed with the coffee he'd waited two agonizing minutes for. Pushing the unfinished chess game aside, he summoned the book to the table and continued reading. "Current inhabitants of the northern Crystal Empire. Descended from a band of defiant earth pony loyalists who refused to leave the kingdom during the Sundering of Ponykind. They are functionally identical to modern earth ponies, save for their reflective, crystalline coats..."

Crystalline... Arcanus mused, as the parallel this drew to the alicorn on the cards didn't go unnoticed. With this epiphany came renewed fervor, or perhaps that was the caffeine deciding to act quickly for a change.

"... These special properties are thought to be a result of prolonged exposure to the crystal flora and fauna native to, and abundant within the kingdom's borders," he continued. "However, as with many details pertaining to the Crystal Empire, this speculation is unverifiable; the Empire's disappearance following the overthrow of King Sombra 85 years prior to this publication has rendered the crystal ponies, and their grand library, inaccessible for study."

Now, that was a name Arcanus hadn't heard in awhile: King Sombra. Celestia made almost no mention of him, despite having lectured the class on unicorn magic's colorful history and even mentioned dark magic itself on occasion.

It hadn't even been a century since, as the story went, the dark magic-wielding rogue unicorn had been felled by the alicorn sisters, and already history was doing its best to work around him. It was as if his brief reign could be considered Canterlot's ultimate embarrassment; that the royal sisters' decision to depose him wasn't so much a righteous act, and more of a humble apology: 'we're sorry the biggest mistake in the history of our magical education system decided to waltz up north and enslave you.'

That was all beside the point, though. The crystal ponies, while an interesting tidbit, weren't the main attraction here. Their inclusion brought the canonical race count to five, which meant... "Alicorn," said Arcanus, turning the page to reveal a subsection dedicated to exactly that, complete with an artist's rendering of the alicorn sisters. "... An alicorn possesses the racial abilities of all three pony types, earning itself such nicknames as 'winged unicorn', 'unicorn pegasus' and rarely 'pegacorn', although this last term has fallen out of favour in recent years."

What followed was a quote from a figure Arcanus didn't recognize.

"Divided you fall, together you conquer. A rope of one strand breaks; a rope of three strands holds strong."

-Array the Controller

"It is one of the oldest symbols of ponykind's quest to discover its roots, and fittingly, the concept is shrouded in both uncertainty and mythology. Credible arguments can be made to suggest the alicorn as a rare biological anomaly with three concurrently dominant genes, or as a preternatural demigod-like figure of divine origins."

Arcanus paused, realising that for all the lecturing Celestia had done on the nature of an alicorn — most of what this book had to say on the subject, really — she had never once implied her own beliefs on the matter. She had a tendency to stick to the facts, after all, and the genetic nature of pony races had long since been established as such.

"... These conceptions are largely influenced by one's willingness to accept mythical reasoning in preference to (the lack of) hard evidence on history's shadier periods. No history book, no matter how reputable, can decide this for the reader. However, the one element of the concept conceded by all sides is that alicorns possess exaggerated magical and physical attributes far in excess of ordinary ponies."

Most other readers would have nodded thoughtfully at that; Arcanus could only narrow his eyes at the understatement. Words couldn't do justice to what he'd seen that night. This author had no idea. She hadn't personally witnessed the princesses shattering marble with their bare hooves, moving so quickly as to leave after-images, or manipulating the heavens themselves in afterthought. Forget raising the sun and moon; the royal sisters had proven that doing so wasn't even a challenge.

"... It is believed that the nature of this power is derived from the three racial magics forming an interdependent, symbiotic triune in which they empower and reinforce one another to near-godlike levels. Assuming this theory is correct, it is by this mechanic that such feats as moving the celestial bodies are possible for a single alicorn. By contrast, this process required the combined efforts of dozens of unicorns prior to the rise of the royal sisters."

"There have been two confirmed alicorns in history. The existence of a third has been evidenced by various elements of Crystal Empire lore and history matching up with those of legend, but is not universally accepted by all historians at the time of this writing. It is included for the sake of fair portrayal and concession of evidence."

Arcanus smiled. Finally, some actual details amidst all this theory! Best of all was that a third alicorn was all but confirmed; mythological or not, there was a good chance this was what he'd been looking for. He looked down at his coffee, the pause in his train of thought allowing him to realise what was missing. Huh, no sugar... He plucked a sugar cube from his bag and plopped it in, rocking the cup back and forth to allow the sugary sweetness a chance to stir.

"...The most well-known, and only confirmed alicorns in history are the royal sisters — Princesses Celestia and Luna."

Arcanus sipped from his newly-sweetened coffee, his expression neutral; he actually considered skipping this subsection. Not that his idol didn't make for excellent reading material, but how much could possibly be in here that he didn't already know?

"... Princess Celestia was born in the 14th year of the Age of Discord, 606 years prior to this publication. Princess Luna's exact birth date is unknown; Celestia has personally stated that she was roughly five at the time. Their mother is thought to have been an unknown pegasus mare, most likely slain toward the end of the Age. No evidence exists to suggest the identity of their father, and the sisters have professed their refusal to elucidate."

Apparently, quite a lot.

"... The Age of Discord is a shakily understood era. The chaotic imbalances incited by Discord's influence resulted in the destruction of many historical records and works of literature; some were burned, others rewrote themselves. As such, the sisters' childhood is an ill-understood period. It is confirmed, however, that an unknown occurrence in their youth blessed the sisters with six artifacts now known as the Elements of Harmony..."

Arcanus' ears perked up as he downed the rest of the coffee in an instant, instinctively inking a quill and readying a scrap of parchment for note-taking.

"... which they used to unseat Discord from power. The Elements are most likely a wellspring of malleable energies — energies that attune themselves to the wielder's strongest virtues and manifest accordingly. The sisters have yet to reveal these virtues. See this publication's sister work, Magical Underpinnings of Reality for a deeper analysis..."

Arcanus closed his eyes, recalling the words Celestia had cited that night. Witnessing the manifestation of the sisters' legendary power had been an unparalleled honor, even under such dire circumstances. "Honesty... Loyalty... Generosity... Laughter... Kindness... and Magic."

As each word came to mind, he sketched six crude gems in a hexagonal pattern and filled each one in accordingly. For added effect, he used his magic to alter the ink and shaded each gem a different color, before lastly adding six arrows that converged in the centre to form, literally and symbolically, a single word: "... Harmony."

"... Eyewitness accounts claim," he continued, setting the quill aside as the brief — and unrealized — epiphany passed, "that the Elements resembled 'a rainbow of light shooting forth from the ground, swirling magnificently and lighting up the sky before crashing down upon Discord; all that remained in its wake was a statue of the former tyrant.' Discord's sealing led directly into the brief period known as the Hour of Twilight, during which the sun and moon co-existed in the sky — stranded without the chaotic energies Discord once provided to guide them."

"Throughout the following years, the sisters traversed the land in search of damage to undo and residual chaos energies to purify, ultimately culminating in the taking of their famous charge to maintain the cycles of the sun and moon, and to provide them unto ponykind to this day. For this heroic deed, the sisters were crowned the nation's new rulers — and, according to some legends, earned their cutie marks."

So enthralled he'd been by the surprisingly invigorating tale of his idol saving the world that he'd only just noticed the room was starting to become unbearably hot courtesy of Aurora's magical flames.

Wiping his brow, Arcanus summoned the fireplace poker and spread out the wood as best he could, stopping only when he withdrew the warped, bright orange iron to find it shedding ash and charcoal fragments like a snake would its old skin. Smiling sheepishly, he placed the warped poker aside and returned his eyes to the book... just in time for the good part.

Skipping past the disclaimer, he read aloud: "... According to mythology, the third alicorn descended from the heavens around 1600 years prior to this writing to lay the foundations for the Old Crystal Empire, under the banner of which he united the scattered remnants of ponykind."

Arcanus smiled, his eyes drawn to the rightmost exhibit: an intricately detailed drawing of a sky blue alicorn, complete with shimmering silver wings and a radiant golden horn. To the left sat an artist's recreation of an old stone carving depicting that same alicorn dodging the sand breath of a large dragon while clinging to, and twisting, one of its giant claws.

"... From there, he carved out the abyssal depths of Tartarus and sealed most of the chaotic flora and fauna — which had dominated the land for centuries — within. Ponykind was at last safe, and able to settle down and build a stable civilization, which thrived for years to come under the alicorn's omnipotent reign. This alicorn came to be known as *Array the Controller*."

Arcanus stared at the name in silence, chastising himself for not making the connection sooner. It should have been obvious! But if he's considered a myth, why was he portrayed on playing cards of all things? And... why did he represent the king, when Discord — an unpleasant memory though he may be — could just as fittingly play the role?

"Array's lordship of the Old Crystal Empire was absolute and unquestioned. All aspects of everyday life were orderly tied to his will, removing any sense of responsibility or stress from the common pony's agenda. The sun and moon, weather patterns, and even the growing of crops were monitored by the artifact we know today as the Crystal Heart, by which Array could spread his will across the entire kingdom. From this, his title 'the Controller' was derived."

"Following his sudden disappearance roughly 500 years into the Empire's life, Array went on to become a historical footnote at best... or an idealistic myth at worst."

Arcanus blinked in disbelief. Wasn't there more? He turned the page; surely enough, there wasn't. His interest piqued, though, he sought out the next logical step if he wanted further answers. The first instance of "Old Crystal Empire" happened to be magilinked, and he wouldn't know unless he tried...

"I look at places to go,

There's nothing near.

So take me away from this,

'cause this place I'll hardly miss..."

"So take me back in time,

to another world..."

-Lady Teresa Mane's "Back In Time"; Verse 2 Line 1–4, Chorus Line 1–2

"The Old Crystal Empire..." Arcanus whispered. "Isolated kingdom to the north of Canterlot, surrounded by the Crystal Mountain Belt. Known for the unique crystal properties of its various fauna, most notably the crystal berries. First pony civilization, possibly founded by the third alicorn, et cetera..."

Arcanus' eyelids drooped, a wordless reminder that he should skip the redundant formalities. It was just more 'Array is a historical supposition' disclaimer anyway.

"... While the 500-year reign of Array the Controller is disputed, the earliest surviving records do support the notion that following his hypothetical reign and disappearance, ponykind fell into a brief recession. Lacking a functional economic cycle, not to mention guidance for the natural orders of day/night and the weather, ponykind is thought to have gravitated toward a socialist model. Desperation is thought to have led to the discovery of the pony race's inherent abilities — pegasi controlling the weather, for example — during this period, further suggesting that Array, or some other driving force, existed prior."

Arcanus immediately made a note: 'find out Princess Celestia's opinion on the maintenance of the day/night cycle prior to her reign.' For a supposed "myth" this Array character's existence seemed entirely too plausible, especially given that myths had a curious tendency to be true all along. In a kingdom ruled by demigods, myths were simply 'old stories that sound mysterious because they describe fantastic things years after the fact.' Hay, years from now Nightmare Moon and the Elements of Harmony will likely be considered mythology.

"... Society lasted an admirable hundred-odd years under a libertarian socialist model. However, the inevitable invention of currency—"

A knock at the door dislodged Arcanus' intense concentration, causing him to leap to attention with a filly-like yelp as Moonthistle staggered her way into the room. Her eyelids hung lazily, an inane grin plastered on her face. These things, plus her inability to stay upright betrayed just how downright hammered she was.

"How're y'doin', 'canus..." she mumbled drunkenly, and with an unmistakable hint of naughtiness in her glazed-over eyes. Arcanus eyed her warily, slightly unnerved by the sheer 'glee' in her inebriated grin. Just looking at her made him tired. She shakily held a glass of water in her psychic grip, rocking it back and forth unconsciously. "Just wanna say... sorry."

"... Uh, sorry for what?" he replied cluelessly, nonetheless standing up and stretching his stiffened legs, wincing as the bones popped.

"For... hic," she paused to scull what remained of the much–needed water, dropping the glass, "for what I said earlier. 'bout Stella." She staggered over to the designated mares' bed, almost toppling over before Arcanus swiftly caught her in his own black aura. "'Twas uncalled for, I know... heh." She looked up into his eyes, allowing the unabridged glimmer of perversion to return as the slightly flushed colt continued to hold her. "Hee hee... a gentlecolt."

Arcanus mentally facehoofed, then actually facehoofed when he realised he did, in fact, have a free hoof. Summoning a little of his will power, he heaved the petite mare onto her bed and covered her up. A barely-audible "Silly 'canus..." escaped the mare's lips, before the unmistakable sound of snoring filled the room within seconds.

Arcanus looked back at the book on the table with a sigh. He'd been a moron for staying up this late, if even hard drinking party-girl Moonthistle considered it time to hit the hay. He took one last look at her, noticing her adorable pout a little too closely for his comfort, before hopping into his own bed.

He was out like a light.

*******

"Yeah, I don't have a clue what happened last night..."

"You confirmed that we're never mixing Castelmare and Amare'ula again."

Arcanus opened his eyes groggily to the sound of barely restrained chewing, spotting his companions seated at the table around a big plate of breakfast. The smell of crisply cooked daisy immediately weaseled its way into his muzzle, poking tantalizingly at his appetite.

Unfortunately, the unwelcome sensation of a sore throat made its presence known as well.

"I do believe our boy 'canus is awake," Moonthistle stated around a mouthful of sandwich. "'bout time, too."

"Is that so?" Aurora asked, sneaking a peek at the colt in question. She frowned. "What gave it away?"

"Oh, that's easy," Moonthistle replied offhandedly. "He stopped snoring. Morning, 'canus!" she chirped, not a single sign of the hangover she most certainly should have had given the state she passed out in.

"Good morning, ladies..." he rasped, practically falling out of bed and going straight for his bags in search of water. Luckily, he had one bottle left, which he promptly drained. He turned to say something, but found a sandwich suspended in a magical aura all but shoved into his mouth.

"Eat," Aurora commanded. "We meet with the governor soon. They want us to bring all our possessions with us as a 'sign of sincerity."

"How long?" Arcanus asked quickly, more than happy to dig in to the sandwich. Daffodil and daisy, too.

"Ten minutes."

"What?" Arcanus looked himself over in a panic. "... Is there someplace I can shower around here?"

"The inn offers communal bathing for patrons," Aurora confirmed, turning her nose up at such an option, even as her shiny clean coat made it blatantly obvious she'd settled for it. "Might be somewhat busy this time of morning, though..."

"I doubt I have time for that—" Arcanus was cut off by a look of pure, unadulterated happy as Moonthistle stared straight at him, her horn already glowing as droplets of water began to condense around it. "Uh... what?"

"Well, if that's the case, I've been practicing the Hydro Pump spell..." She rose to her hooves and sauntered her way over, only to find herself stalking thin air. Arcanus had hastily teleported past her, but she wasn't about to give up so easily. "Canst thou think of a better mare to hose thee down?"

Arcanus was already at the door. "Communal bathing it is..." he called back in practically one breath, galloping down the hall.

...

If the tavern's deceptively highbrow decor hadn't been an obvious tip-off, the elegant interior of the town hall most certainly was for Arcanus. The furnishings weren't the disheveled mass of splintered wood he was expecting, nor were the walls peppered in all manner of elaborate, shabby patchwork repairs that Aurora had repeatedly alluded to on their travels.

On the contrary, the walls were decorated up and down with paintings and carvings in all shapes and sizes, some ornate, others modest, but all clearly worth some kind of money. Small captions were often etched beneath them, stating who painted them and when. At first glance, it would come across as more of an art gallery than a rural town hall.

The trio exchanged no words as the orange stallion from the night before quietly escorted them up a spiral staircase along the left wall, ushering them into what seemed to be a dusty attic refit to serve as some kind of study. It was dimly lit, with no visible light source besides a half-dozen candles, and littered with dust. A disorganized mess of papers cluttered the floor around the center of the room, obscuring the cracked floor, but the trio of seated ponies — two stallions and one mare — didn't seem to care.

"Ah, yes. I do recognize the green mare, from last night," said the center stallion, a slender blue earth pony sporting a bookish set of reading glasses. "I'm Ledger, governor and financial manager of the Pony'borough province. This is my wife, Esther."

"Honored to meet you," Arcanus responded, introducing himself and his comrades. "We come in peace—"

"Let's start on the good hoof with trust," Esther cut him off, nodding at the orange stallion. "Check their bags. Do you bring weapons into my town?"

Arcanus and Aurora shook their heads, opening their bags for inspection.

"Well..." Moonthistle said slowly, smiling awkwardly. She rustled her saddlebag a little, playing a chorus of metal grinding against metal. "Only by the strictest legal definition." She dropped the bag and used her magic to push it aside. "Disarmed. We good?"

"Clever," Ledger said with an amused smirk, before his expression hardened. "Allow us to get to the point, then. When are you leaving?"

He's not wasting any time... Arcanus thought.

"We... intend to leave as soon as we have delivered our terms," Aurora reasoned, taking charge as she magically dipped into Arcanus' bag to withdraw a letter bound with the royal seal.

"Very well. Make your case," Esther said. "Depending on what you have to say, we may ask you to leave immediately."

Aurora cleared her throat, levitating the bound letter toward Ledger for him to take. "We are charged on behalf of Princess Celestia to express the kingdom's, and her own sincere intentions. Our orders explicitly forbid the use of coercion or force."

"Is that so?" Ledger asked, knowing in advance that he'd most likely not get an answer. He passed the letter to Esther, who promptly went about opening and perusing it. "And what intentions do you have should we choose to ignore your 'terms?'"

"Indeed, promises are cheap," Esther added, briefly showing the letter to her husband before crumpling it up and throwing it over her shoulder. "Actions speak louder than words, young ones. And believe me when I say we have seen much action," she added cryptically, nodding at the other stallion by her husband's side.

"Of what actions dost thou speak?" Arcanus asked a little heatedly before Aurora had the chance, allowing his obedience to Celestia to do the thinking for him. "If thou meanest the dethroning of Princess Luna, I believe that was clearly explained in the letter. Any 'conspiracy' is little more than slander perpetrated by—" The air ran out of his sails, as the administrative pair gave him an incredulous — and slightly aggravated — stare.

"... You don't even know why you're here, do you?" Ledger asked sincerely, though in no way politely.

Arcanus replied with a textbook answer. "Are we not here to defend her highness' integrity against malicious slander, and to decry its perpetrators? To convince you that secession is not the answer to a misunderstanding?"

"Misunderstanding," whispered the other stallion — a beefy, dust-brown earth pony with a glaring scar on his left cheek. All eyes were upon him in an instant; his dull, almost shell-shocked tone was enough to guarantee that. "Ah fail t'see what's misunderstanding about royal guard looting mah damn village and bullyin' those'a us with the gall to defend ourselves! Wha'dya think's so vague about that? Barely made it outta there with mah life, let alone belongin's. What nonsense d'ya babble about 'slander?'"

Arcanus was stunned silent as though struck, although he retained his composure. Inside, his mind swam with questions like a school of frenzied fish. He cast a brief glance to his side, and unsurprisingly, his companions weren't much better off. This isn't about the royal guard letting bandits run free... The bandits *are** royal guard. The lord-general's information was wrong? Was he lied to? Was he lying?* Too many crucial questions, and not enough damn answers.

"What, a crucial revelation?" Ledger asked, making note of their dumbfounded expressions. "I see you need some time to think it over. If you're sincere in your ignorance, then you may stay here for the time being. Just one word of warning: do not antagonize us further. You are outnumbered and unarmed—" he paused, looking at Moonthistle "—for a given value, anyway."

"Thank you, sir," said Arcanus, doing his best to be out of that building in a hurry. "So, what now?" he asked of his allies once they were safely outside, huddled together for an improvised 'strategy meeting.'

"This complicates things..." Aurora mused, stating the blatantly obvious. "It's hard to say, though. Our objective is to defuse their hostility, but they have a much stronger case than we thought. If what that stallion said is true, we may have a genuine conspiracy, or treason, on our hooves..."

"Sounds to me like we've been had," Moonthistle added. "Or somepony else has, anyway. The question is, whom?"

"That's the issue..." Arcanus conceded.

It could be any number of ponies along the chain of authority; alternatively, there may be no deception at all, and the lord-general's intelligence gathering was simply incomplete. The "bandits" could even be disguising themselves as royal guard, for all he knew. That would actually be quite an effective strategy to exacerbate exactly this kind of crisis.

"... We may know soon enough, though."

A tell-tale dust storm had kicked up, accompanied by the steadily increasing sound of mass hoof beats. Before long, seven figures galloped out of the dust cloud, waltzing straight into the village without a care in the world to form a semi-circle in front of the town hall. Six of them were clad in dark blue armor adorned with prominent, razor sharp spires. The seventh — a large, jet black-coated mare — merely wore a red cloak with a hood that obscured her face. The soldiers' unannounced arrival had already drawn many ponies out from their homes, but none dared make a sound.

"... Aurora Borealis?" the mare suddenly asked, stepping forward and removing her hood to both end the stare down and reveal her identity. She sported red eyes that positively glowed with power, wisdom, and an imposing presence above all, while her lengthy dark purple mane, split into various shades, hung thickly over her shoulders like a torn rag. Leaning in closer, the mare smiled confidently despite having received no response. She didn't need one; her answer spoke for itself. "Ah, yes. I heard you were here. Good to see you, sis."

Aurora visibly tensed up at the address, but nonetheless scowled up at the intrusive mare, while Arcanus and Moonthistle could only look on in quiet astonishment. "Belphegor."