Friends of the Dawn

by Vanner

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure
Length: 18514

What happens with deep friendships collide?

When Celestia sealed Nightmare Moon away, she left her kingdom to fend for itself for five long years. In that time, Equestria almost fell apart, but it was brought back together by four ponies willing to fight for it. Now, as the Knights of Friendship spread peace and harmony throughout the lands, a dangerous new threat emerges from Zebra lands.
Fueled by the same friendship that saved Equestria, a dark shadow threatens the world and it's again up to Heart Chase, Constance, Ridgeline, and Bard to lead the charge. But what happens when opposing friendships collide?

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-08-15 17:07:46 UTC

Chapter 1

When I was young, and the Lunar Rebellion was in its infancy, Iron Pick reassured me that my father would return and everything would be all right. I believed him, at least until the sky turned dark for weeks on end, and the moon blacked out the sun. When the unbearable heat of the summer gave way to the endless cold of night, my family and I huddled together for warmth as we waited for news from the front. We worked when we could to bring life to the land, but the darkness sapped our energy, and we waited endlessly for the dawn to come.

Then the darkness broke. The sun rose again, the world warming in the embrace of our goddess. With the dawn of a new day, the war ended, and our family watched the horizon for the return of those we had sent to war. We waited for Father to come home. He never did.

The black stallion returned to us with the news of father’s passing. Soul Chase died in the Princess’s throne room as she made the final stand against Nightmare Moon. Were it not for him and the soldiers that stood in defence of the Princess, the night would have lasted forever.  The news broke our hearts, but coming from a pony like Iron Pick, it was bearable. When we learned that Celestia left the world to mourn her sister, Equestria seemed darker at her disappearance.

Life always finds a way of moving on, and in time, we put aside our memories of those lost and focused on the future instead. Plants grew, families grew, and Equestria was again at peace. But that peace would not last forever.

Heart Chase placed her quill across the inkwell and stretched her tired neck muscles. As the pen clattered against inkwell, she couldn’t help but notice how the limestone walls and endless pigeon holes of of scrolls echoed every scratch of quill and every exasperated sigh. Here she passed hers days beneath the ivory towers of Canterlot Castle as a ghost, rather than a mare of rank and standing.

For the past few weeks, a minor injury during training exercises confined her to a desk to mop up paperwork. Long after she’d healed, great piles of scrolls and ledgers found their way onto her desk in the scriptorium, each demanding the attention of a senior Knight of Friendship. The work poured in endless streams, flushed through the lines of command to whomever happened to be unlucky enough to fly a desk that week. Unlucky for Heart Chase, no pony else had fallen ill, and the chains of bureaucracy enslaved her to her desk. But the piles in her inbox wasn’t what drew her concern. It was a far smaller letter, bearing the seal the seal of her husband exiled a thousand miles away.

The letter loomed in the corner of her desk, simply waiting for the chance to  ruin Heart’s day. His last few letters were increasingly depressing, expressing the loneliness of exile and the desire to see his son and daughter-in-law again. Even worse, he’d never  seen his new grandson, and the ache of not knowing the new colt only served to deepen his regret. After all, he and Heart Chase had been the architects of the second war of secession. The aggravation of remembering her path to Canterlot was far more tiring than she wanted to admit, and a headache built her temples as she remembered Celestia’s return. Iron Pick shielded her from the fallout of her actions, and karma, it seemed, completely ignored her part in starting the war of secession. Instead, fate rewarded her with a commission in a unit of warrior diplomats. The Knights of Friendship, as they were called, were her reward for the massive act of disloyalty to the crown. Three years later, and the armor of a diplomat still didn’t seem to fit properly on her shoulders.

She picked up her letter and left the lifeless scriptorum. Where she was headed was unimportant, but anywhere was better than being cooped up inside that prison of work. The stone walls echoed her hoofsteps until she came to a branch hallway. The hall, filled to the brim with life and joy, filled her ears with the sound a dozen ponies going about their lives. It was as if everyone but her were doing just what their cutie marks suggested they do. Heart turned her attentions to the squads of royal guard patrolling the hallways with all the care and attention of a colt playing hoofball. Two younger guards leered at every mare’s flank that passed.

“Lookit that cutie mark,” said the tall blue stallion. “I’d like to fertilize her garden, if you know what I mean.”

“She’s practically a filly!” shot back the orange pegasus. “What you really want is a zebra. I’ll show you how to bag one. Stripes take all types, you know.” The two continued bantering for a minute more as their conversation degraded into little more than grunts and wolf whistles. Heart Chase’s emerald eyes narrowed into slits of hate.

“Boys,” she said with only the slightest hint of malice. The taller of the guards rolled his eyes in disgust as he looked to Heart Chase. His was halfway through his witty remark when bit his tongue and snapped to attention.

“General Chase, sir! Ma’am!” he stammered. “I thought you and your squad were out on assignment.”

“We ain’t been out on assignment in a year, soldier,” said Heart Chase. She glanced at the other soldier standing at rapt attention. “What are your names, soldiers?”

“Private Butterfly, Ma’am!” announced the tall blue stallion.

“Privatel Dusty Rose, Ma’am!” stammered the shorter orange pegasus.

“Tell me, corporals,” said Heart Chase as she paced before them. “What do you know of Zebrica?”

“It’s ruled by zebras?” asked Dusty Rose.

“It’s mostly grasslands?” stammered Butterfly.

“Yer forgetting something important,” said Heart Chase, tapping her hoof against Butterfly’s helm. “Tell me what yer forgetting.”

The two looked at each other for a moment, as if trying to delve into the depths of the other’s minds. The answer eluded them until Heart Chase shook her head in disgust.

“Fer one thing, zebras are just like any other mare,” she said. “And I ain’t sure they’d appreciate what ya’ll are saying about them. Second, Princess Celestia banished the Lunar Rebels there, which means we’re gonna have potential hostiles on the castle grounds this weekend.” She shifted her gaze between the two guards. “I suggest y’all concentrate more on your patrols and less on cutie marks for the remainder of the week. Do I make myself clear?”

Pale with terror, the guards nodded before dashing away. As they spun around a corner, Heart Chase could only sigh in disgust. In truth, she didn’t much care that palace guards weren’t doing their duty, nor did she care that they were ogling the flanks of the mares that passed by. After all, she had engaged in that pastime herself. The feeling was far less understandable, as if something were gnawing on her insides, and setting every nerve on edge. It was like a current  her head, just waiting for a spot to ground itself.

Walking past another pair of servants, she couldn’t help but notice the brand new pearls in the mare’s ears. The symbol of a new marriage made her look to her own earrings, thinking back to that day nearly three years ago when she said “I do” to a stallion that she didn’t love for a chance at a throne of her own. The aftermath of that ceremony led directly to the civil war that enveloped Equestria and nearly toppled the reign of Celestia. Then again, If it hadn’t been for her and her friends, Equestria would have fallen under the brutal hoof of Nightmare Moon’s general, Glaive.

For their actions, Celestia saw fit to gift Heart Chase and her friends with Knighthood and charged them with the mission of spreading peace and harmony throughout the land. The combination of Bard’s magical talents, Constance’s sultry persuasiveness, and Ridgeline’s incredible physical power made for a team perfectly suited to all things both diplomatic and aggressive. But as the ranks of the Knights swelled, more teams began to match the prowess of their founding squad. Younger Knights with new ideas and high ideals ventured forth into the lands around Equestria, bringing peace to the world. The founding squad found itself adventuring less as the months passed, and this year, they hadn’t left the palace grounds.

As if summoned by thought, Bard and Constance appeared from around the corner, arguing as they always were, and oblivious to the rest of the traffic in the halls. Heart Chase couldn’t help but watch as they argued, the subtle lines of weariness growing on Bard’s face. Constance, years younger and far more sprightly, only smiled at her tiring companion in a way that left Heart Chase with a pang of jealousy. Their argument echoed through the halls, leaving other ponies tittering in their wake. Younger Knights only shook their heads as they passed. Bard looked up, paused mid sentence and replaced his glare with a warm smile.

“Mother of Luna, you are alive!” said Bard. “I thought Celestia had locked you away in the scriptorum forever.”

“I’m sure she’d love to do that,” said Heart Chase. “I ain’t up fer retirin’ just yet.”

“I certainly think that mares of our age shouldn’t even dream of letting the fillies and colts take over everything,” said Constance with a smile.

Truthfully, Heart Chase was glad to pass the torch to a younger generation. Though she wasn’t that old, the things she and her friends had seen in the past few years left her face lined with the wrinkles of stress. She wasn’t the only one of her group to have suffered the fate of premature aging. Bard, who was no spring chicken to begin with, had already started to go grey around the temples, giving his sky blue coat an air of dignity. He looked more like his mother each day, which Constance felt the need to chide him ib regularly. Constance, on the other hoof, seemed to get more beautiful as the days passed, and Heart Chase found herself lingering on her soft curves for perhaps too long.

“Something troubling you, dear?” asked Constance.

“Me?” asked Heart, snapping back to the conversation at hand. “Uh, nope, everything is...” She paused and looked around for a moment. “Well, frankly, I’m bored outta my mind.”

“I understand the frustration,” said Bard. “We should have our choice of assignments, yet her majesty hasn’t sent us anywhere.”

“I bet she’s saving our unique talents for something special,” said Constance.

“I think she’s just tryin’ to keep us safe,” said Heart. “With what’s been goin’ on in Zebrica, I can’t blame her.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” said Constance with a flip of her silky mane. “I’m sure we’ll get to go somewhere fabulous and exciting soon.” She tousled Bard’s greying mane. “Even if this old stallion probably won’t survive the journey.”

“Mare, I swear to Celestia, if you keep calling me old, I will do things to you that will make you miserable beyond belief.” Papers and dust tumbled through the hall along the magic-summoned breeze as Bard’s horn glowed with a dull light.

“Oh, forgive me for not falling at the altar of the Great and Powerful Bardiche!” sneered Constance. “I had forgotten you were the mighty wizard who summons gusts of wind!”

“Look here you rose-flanked temptress...”

Heart only sighed as she left the two to argue. She’d meant to invite them to do something, but they seemed focused on trying to maim each other with words. Perhaps later would be a better time. She continued her walk through the halls of Canterlot castle, taking in the new frescos that lined the walls.

While leaving the castle itself untouched, the war had changed the hearts and minds of many ponies. They had chipped away at the royal seal of sisters to replace it with only Celestia. Every portrait of Luna disappeared behind fresh plaster, and every crescent became part of a sun. A few odd reliefs remained unbroken, but even those would fall beneath the chisel of the masons. None spoke of the Night Princess anymore; they only spoke of her darker half and of the night that lasted too long.

Heart shook her head to clear her mind of the parallels from her own family and focused instead on the windows of the palace. Outside, storm clouds gathered, spilling rain onto the land and bringing life back to the world after the long winter. The castle halls eventually emptied into a courtyard where a massive copper coated stallion sat in silence as the rain pattered down upon him.

Poor Ridgeline, thought Heart Chase. Though the youngest of the group, his life had been a mess since he was just a colt. The patchwork of scars that lined his coat only hinted at his hardships. The roguish eye patch gave him an air of mystery, but the eye he’d lost in the battle for Canterlot had given him perspective far beyond his years. Though never much of a talker, he had been quieter as the adventures waned, and had taken to simply sitting in silence in the courtyard no matter the weather. His efforts in the year off adventuring seemed to be of an academic bent, rather than his usual regimen of brutal physical training, as he tried to exorcise the demon from his mind. He was no more clever for the effort, but he, much like everyone else, had changed.

It finally hit Heart Chase as the source of her worry. Everything had changed, and it was so gradual that she didn’t even notice there was a problem. Her friends drifted away, more concerned with other projects than their relationship. Next, after some increasingly depressed letters, Iron Pick stopped writing entirely. The unopened letter arrived almost two weeks ago without a sign that more were coming. She’d meant to ask Bard if he could teleport her down to see him, but he’d been busy with a “secret project” and couldn’t be bothered.

The halls eventually led Heart Chase out of the castle along a pebbled path. Though entitled to palatial quarters, the quiet walks to her apartment every day gave her time to think about her troubles. Troubles like Celestia’s return to power and how she threw the Knights at every problem that came across her desk. They solved most of them, but in the past few months, squads sent to check on the Lunar Rebellion exiles hadn’t come back, and nothing was being done about it. Celestia said nothing about it even when questioned directly, and the silence of the monarch worried her more than a casual dismissal of the losses would. Heart considered each and every one of her Knights a friend, even if she didn’t know them as well as she should have. It was her duty to keep them safe, and Celestia’s refusal to do anything about the missing emissaries ground against her mind like her hooves ground upon the gravel path.

Droplets of rain spattered on the stone sculptures of ponies long passed as she walked along the path. Each was labeled with a bronze plaque, exalting their deeds and proclaiming their greatness through the ages. Many were saviors of Equestria in one form or another, and a few even predated the kingdom. They were reminders to all that Equestria, when not absorbed by its petty concerns and desires, was a family willing to make sacrifices for the good of the world. It gave Heart hope that the Knights would one day be counted among the ranks of those that had done so much good. It wasn’t until she came to the statue of the draconequus that she gave pause.

Though she passed by the marble statue every day, today she paused and really looked at it. Spatters of mud nearly obscured the inlaid plaque describing the statue, and vines of wild ivy grew around the pedestal in great, thick curtains. The statue itself seemed to be singing, though why such a villain would sing was anypony’s guess. The mismatched pieces of creatures joined together in perfect discord, creating a beast unnatural to this and all worlds. The wrongness of it all turned Heart Chase’s stomach and she wondered why Celestia would keep such a hideous thing in the garden for the world to see.

“It’s all yer fault anyway,” said Heart Chase to the statue. “If it weren’t fer you, we’d all be happy.”

The distant rumble of thunder heralded the arrival of a downpour, leaving Heart Chase standing out in the torrents of rain. In a moment, rain soaked her coat to the skin, though she saw no reason to run for shelter. The rain washed over her in warm torrents as the path lead her back into her apartment.

The candle’s soft glow filled the room with pleasant light that reflected from her mirror in dancing fairies of light along the walls. Rain began to seep into the cracks of the worked stone, the walls weeping under the torrents of water. Outside, the rain drummed against the slate roof in a constant, soothing rhythm that brought on a world of weariness. For the first time in months, Heart Chase saw herself in the mirror and didn’t recognize the mare staring back at her.

Lines of worry and sadness creased her freckled yellow face in deep creases, and her orange mane hung sopping wet across her shoulders. Her shoulders sagged as if she’d spent weeks hauling a cart. In reality, she had nothing but time to rest. It wasn’t so long ago that she proudly stood for a portrait with the Knights, and anyone who saw it wouldn’t think that this mare was the same one standing in that picture. Rather than the spark of inspiration, her emerald eyes instead reflected only a weariness that comes with the crushing weight of worry. Everything that had happened in the past few months reflected back at her in those eyes, and it made her tired.

She sat on her bed, laying her head upon her pillow. The gentle scent of honey and ginger wafted from the sheets as a reminder of the mare that had shared her bunk not so long ago. It was a pity that she didn’t want to understand Heart Chase’s relationship with Iron Pick; they could have had a wonderful life together. But like many things in the past few months, Ginger left, and the emptiness filled Heart Chase again.

The mirror still reflected a beaten mare, unwilling to help herself out of the funk that settled around her life. She stretched her leg and dropped off the bed.

“This ain’t who I am,” she said to the mirror. With a swat of her hoof, the mirror spun backwards in the vanity, reflecting the room as it spun. “Orders or not, yah can’t keep me down.”

Heart reached into her closet and pulled her uniform coat from the racks of dresses she never wore. In a moment, the shiny brass buttons and soft wool adorned her chest like a badge of honor. The mirror stopped spinning long enough to reflect a proud military mare, standing with shoulders squared and eyes filled with ferocity. Today was a brand new day, and she was going to seize it.

The return trip to the castle took longer than she expected as every pony along the path stopped to talk or solicit advice from her. The starched wool collar and brass buttons of a Knight’s dress gave her the confidence she needed to act her station. She was going to march up to the throne room and demand a mission.

She first went to the courtyard where she’d seen Ridgeline earlier only to find that he’d disappeared. Only a dry spot remained on the rock he sat on, leaving a ghostly negative of his presence. The search continued through the palace for her friends, only to turn up empty-hoofed. Though her three friends were high profile, no one had seen the three since earlier that afternoon. In fact, at least two servants denied seeing them at all that day, insisting they’d left earlier on some sort of assignment. Heart wandered the grounds for a while hoping to find the trio in their offices. Instead, she found a hoof full of scribes quietly scribbling away on scrolls.

“Ya’ll seen Ridgeline?” asked Heart Chase. “Constance? Bard? Any of the Knights?”

“A thousand pardons, General Chase,” said a grey unicorn with a salute. “They left here an hour ago. They said they were headed somewhere, but didn’t say where.”

Heart Chase paused a moment, trying to process the information. “They... left?” she asked. “As in, went somewhere without me?”

“They had their saddle bags packed and ready to go,” he said. “Weren’t you going with them?”

“I guess not,” muttered Heart Chase. “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

She wandered away from the offices in a bewildered trance. While they had perhaps grown distant in the past few months, she never expect her friend to up and leave without so much as a goodbye. Had they been deployed? Had they finally grown tired of living life in the palace and set forth for adventure?

Whispers caught her ear as she continued her trot along the halls. Bits of rumors and conjecture that were barely loud enough to pass from one pony to the next danced in her ears as she passed. How did these other ponies know that she hadn’t been feeling well? Or that her friends were drifting apart? What other rumors swirled unheard about the palace?

Perhaps the temper of friendship that saw them through the darkest times had grown brittle in these long months of inactivity. Her friends seemed to thrive on conflict and without a challenge, they simply drifted apart. Perhaps it was time for Heart Chase to hang up her armor, and return to the farm after all.

The clatter of an armored salute drew Heart Chase from her reflection and snapped her back into the real world. With a quick look around, she saw that she had inadvertently walked to the majestic marble hall where Celestia sat in court. Two unicorn guards remained in silent salute. Heart Chase looked around a for a moment more.

“At ease, soldiers,” she said. “Is the princess busy at the moment?”

“No, Ma’am,” snapped the guard. “In fact, she just sent word that she wanted to see you.”

“Oh.” Heart Chase looked around again for a moment. “Well, thank ya kindly.” She ran a hoof through her mane, and gave herself a once over in the reflection of the guard’s armor. Celestia would forgive her for not looking her best, especially if it were that important.

The trailing carpet silenced hoof-falls as Heart Chase made her way through the hall and to Celestia’s throne. Glimmers of colored light danced around the stained glass of the windows depicting scenes of Equestria’s greatest triumphs. From the first windows depicting Equestria’s founding to the window depicting Discord’s downfall, the history lesson followed Heart Chase until she came to the window nearest the princess.

Instead of Luna raising the moon, it now held a portrait of Celestia defeating Nightmare Moon with the Elements of Harmony. The sharp contrast of the gentle image of Celestia raising the sun on the opposite window gave Heart Chase pause. It was her fault the window was broken, having bucked the leader of the Lunar Rebellion through it three years earlier, but she couldn’t help feeling disappointed they hadn’t replaced it with Luna. In fact, the only piece of the night princess that remained in the throne room was in Celestia’s heart.

“You’re thinking, ‘How quickly we forget history’,” said Celestia as she stood from her throne.  “Luna’s quickly becoming a non-pony, more of a memory than a mare.”

“You wanted to see me, yer highness?” asked Heart Chase, bowing before her princess.

“Yes, I did,” said Celestia. “Please stand. I’ve heard that you haven’t been feeling that well lately. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m...” Heart Chase paused, trying to think of an answer. “I’m fine, yer highness. Thank you for yer concern, but I’m fit as a fiddle and ready for whatever you need me for.” Celestia paused, and looked down at Heart Chase.

“I don’t need you for anything at the moment,” said Celestia. “Aside from the southern patrols, there’s been no new developments that require your attention or your team’s expertise.”

“We could investigate that,” said Heart Chase. “Shoot, I’m sure we’d be more than happy to get out of the castle for a few months.”

“No, I don’t think that’s necessary,” said Celestia. “Why don’t you take a few days off before the Gala? You look like you could use a spa day.”

“I...”

“I insist,” said Celestia. “I’ll have my chariot take you to the hot springs in the morning. You’ll feel like a new mare, I guarantee it.”

Heart Chase paused, if only because her princess was insisting. Normally, that sort of girlish excess was Constance's realm, and the idea of letting some stallion manhandle her just wasn’t that appealing. Still, if the princess insisted , then it was probably for a good reason. Perhaps a relaxing dip in the sulfur springs would do her a world of good after all.

“I’ll go, yer majesty,” said Heart Chase. “But only because it’s you insisted. Thank you.” She bowed, and walked in silence from the Princess.

“Was there anything else you wanted to tell me?” asked Celestia.

Heart Chase turned to face her princess. “No,” lied Heart Chase. “I think you’re right. I’ll go have a few days off, and get back to you on that.”

“Remember that your friends still love you, Heart Chase,” said Celestia. “Those three hearts of your flank aren’t just for show.”

“I’ll remember that,” said Heart Chase. “Thank you, Princess.”

Chapter 2

Family is the most important thing in the world. Your family raised you, protected you, and contributed to the pony you are today. Never forget them or where you came from, because ultimately, you still have your family, even when you have nothing else.

-Memoirs of Iron Pick

The cool night of the Zebrica plains nipped at Iron Pick's black flanks like the sand fleas of the far off deserts. Were it up to him, he wouldn't have bothered with the trek into the exile's village, but a recent letter from his son reminded him why he had to return to Equestria.  In order to do that, he had to make friends with the very ponies he'd helped exile three years ago. He brought them all to trial with the help of his wife and her friends, and for that, the ponies of Exile Village reviled him as the source of their torment. Were it up to them, Iron Pick would hang from the trees like a pinata.

It was by pure luck that Celestia's orders included a provision against such aggression, and that if any pony were to meet an unnatural fate, the exiles would remain in the zebra lands for eternity.  Though they begged and pleaded against the judgment, Celestia was not one to change her mind about matters of friendship.

With the last of the Lunar Rebels dispersed to the winds, an air of calm enveloped the world and ponies once again settled into a life of friendship and caring. Surprisingly, the exiles managed to make friends with each other, despite their initially treacherous origins. Were it not for his own stubborn nature, Iron Pick and the exiles could have returned home last year when the Knights of Friendship came to check on them.

Maybe it is time to give up my crusade, thought Iron Pick as he walked the path to the exile village. I've been fighting them most of my life now. Maybe it's time to make friends with them after all.

The quiet giggle distracted Iron from thoughts; it was a zebra stallion and pegasus mare lost in each other's eyes as they sat beneath the stars. Iron Pick only shook his head, and continued on his way to the meeting. The couple was a sad reminder of a wife he'd spent less than a day with since their wedding three years ago. Though they were never in love, the companionship of marriage meant someone else to care for after all those years of being alone. It was really for her that he was here in the first place.

The sound of drums filled the air as Iron Pick approached the inner circle of the village. There a few dozen ponies gathered to share stories, enjoy drinks, and otherwise be sociable to their new found friends. It wasn't until Iron's stepped from the darkness that the party noticed him and came to a halt. Those three dozen pairs of eyes stared at the aged black unicorn as if he were Death come to collect their souls. The silence continued for a moment more before Iron Pick cleared his throat.

"Hello," he said, slowly scanning the crowd. "It's been a long time."

"You..." came a voice from the crowd. A ginger earth pony forced his way from the crowd to stare Iron Pick in the face. Iron simply squared his shoulders, and stared down his nose at Carmel Snack. "You strut into town after three years and expect what, Iron Pick?"

"I came here on your invitation, Carmel Snack," replied Iron Pick. "If I was mistaken, I'll just go home and leave you to rot. My home by the sea has served me well, and will continue to house me till the day I pass from this world." The corners of Iron's lips turned up in a half-hearted smile. "Where does that leave you?"

"Oh stop it," called a voice from the crowd. The orange earth mare stepped forward, and offered a hoof to Iron Pick. "I invited you and I'm glad you're here, even if my husband isn't."

"I'm glad to see that your life has moved on," said Iron Pick. Behind the three, the ponies and zebras went back to their celebration, though they kept an ear on their conversation.

"Life moves on indeed," replied Daisy Lane. "New life, to be precise. I don't want to raise our child here, Iron Pick. The zebras, while kind and welcoming, they..." she looked out to the crowd to make sure no one was listening. "They're just not Equestrians."

"Not that we're racist or anything," snapped Carmel Snack. "It's just... we all want to go home, Iron. We all had families in Equestria, and I'm sure your family misses you too. You always told me that family was the most important thing a pony had. I've got a beautiful wife and a foal on the way, and I'd like to raise them in the light of Celestia's sun. We've had our differences, Iron," he waved a hoof out to the crowd, "but we've learned from our mistakes, and we don't want to lose the friends that we've made here. It's been three years, and it's time to bury the hatchet." Carmel extended a hoof. "So, what do you say? Friends?"

Iron Pick regarded the offered hoof with suspicion. By accepting the offer of friendship with the exiles, he assured their return home. More importantly, he assured his own return back to Bridleburg where his family and friends would greet him with open arms. Even if it were just a ploy to return to Equestria to start trouble, there was no way he could pass up the offer. Iron pressed a hoof to Carmel's and shook.

"Then we are to be friends," he said. "Come, let us have a drink to celebrate."

The evening continued in revelry as Iron Pick came to either forgive or forget the differences that kept him and the exiles at arm's length. In the three years here, everypony had changed. Bloodthirsty generals and heartless commanders had become docile and mollified by a life of peace and family. Schemers and spies found the solitude enlightening and had become honest by the hard work of friendship. Even those with whom Iron had been bitterest of enemies became friends after a few rounds of wine and some shared songs.

Soon the entirety of the village found itself in joyous laughter at the prospect at coming home to Equestria. When the Knights came again, it would be to welcome them home, rather than to condemn them for their failures of friendship. To any pony watching, it was glorious sight, but to the zebras watching, it only meant that it was time to move.

As Iron Pick stumbled his way down the path toward home, he couldn't help but laugh at his inability to keep his feet from slipping beneath him. The Mare in the Moon stared down at him, as if to condemn him for his role in her downfall.

Iron raised a hoof to the sky, and let out a sharp laugh. "Yah can't keep frenship down," he slurred. He lost his balance and tumbled to ground with a giggle. "Long live the queen."

"I hope you are willing to say that her face," replied a voice from the darkness.

Iron Pick looked up to find the a horned head staring back at him. He didn't recognize the face, but something about the stripes shifted his brain from revelry to panic in split second. Unicorns didn't have stripes. In fact, unicorns weren't that big either. Iron rolled to his feet, only to find himself lifted in the air by a white aura of magic.

Holding him aloft was a zebra stallion nearly the size of Princess Luna. Though cataracts clouded his dull blue eyes in a way that assured blindness, the air of malice behind them was unmistakable. The zebra’s long horn continued to glow with the white aura as Iron tried to push back with his own magic.

"There is no reason to fret, Iron Pick," said the zebra. "You too shall join your friends in our pursuit to bring back Princess Luna. After all, we we not all kin of the moon?"

"Luna's gone!" snapped Iron Pick. "Her heart was taken by Nightmare Moon."

"My dear friend," said the zebra. "I do not think that you know what the power of friendship can do."

***

If it weren’t for the quiet flap of wings, Heart Chase would have sworn the chariot bore her through the sky flew of its own power. From up here, the world lay curved below her, a thousand miles of Equestria stretching before her in a grand display of the vastness of the empire. The pegasus magic of flight impressed her more than all the fancy tricks of unicorns ever could. Flight was the dream of all who looked to the heavens, and Heart often found herself dreaming for wings of her own.

Fascinated as she was by flight, it couldn’t distract her from nagging thoughts of Iron Pick in the Zebrica providence. Along with banished officers of the rebellion, he had been tasked by Celestia to “make friends” with the condition that if any of them “accidentally” turned up dead before returning, they would all forfeit their citizenship permanently. Because he captured the rebellion officers, he kept to himself in a coastal hut, preferring to let the traitors rot in Zebrica. The letter that had troubled Heart Chase earlier mentioned something about attending a party with the rest of the banished in an effort to “make friends.” The party probably ended in a brawl, and he was simply nursing a black eye and a bruised ego. Or maybe it had all gone quite well. Maybe he had actually started making friends. Perhaps even a marefriend.

The idea of Iron Pick spending time with another mare sent Heart’s ears burning in an overdrive of jealousy. It was not as if she’d been faithful to their marriage since their separation, and she even gave him explicit permission to seek the company of others. Yet, for some reason, she couldn’t help but silently resent him for something she didn’t even know he’d done yet. The thoughts pitched her in a cycle of hopeless despair, and the fact that her feelings were nothing short of complete hypocrisy didn’t help.

As the chariot began its slow descent towards the hot springs, relaxation was the furthest thing from her mind. The thoughts of despair surrounding her so-called husband, combined with boredom of the past year and the distancing of her friends, made her anything but receptive to the warm scents of sulfur trickling from the spa grounds.

She made her way past the sandy gardens, trying to force herself to take in the ambiance of the temple of relaxation. The soft sound of trickling water emanating from inside the temple did nothing to calm her nerves, and the darkened sandstone entrance gave her an uncomfortable feeling of being trapped underground. Even the tittering of the spa staff that greeted her weren’t enough to draw out a smile out of her.

“You must come with us,” said the green earth mare. “We have been asked to help you relax and feel as comfortable as possible. I am Chamomile, and this is Shangri La.”

The blue pegasus bowed. “We will be your personal attendants for the next few days.”

“I thank ya’ll fer tryin’ to make me feel better, but I don’t much feel like bein’ pampered,” said Heart, pushing the fussing mares aside. “I’d like to just take a bath and maybe a nap.”

“But we have so much more here to offer you,” Shangri La said.  It was a quiet rasp that attracted all the wrong sorts of attention. Heart immediately took notice, eyes falling across her soft blue wings and Yin-Yang cutie mark. “You will let us at least try to help you?” Her smile lit up the entrance to the temple with such warmth, Heart couldn’t help but allow herself to be drawn in.

“Fine,” said Heart with a sigh. “You got ten minutes to do whatever it y’all are gonna do, then you show me to my room. Got it?”  Shangri La only smiled and ushered Heart down a darkened hall.

The temple’s sandstone hallways served to focus the floral aromas mixed with the sweet scent of fresh flowers. Shangri La spoke of the spa’s healing waters and calming amenities as Heart’s eyes slowly adjusted to the darkened corridors. The clop of hoofsteps along the damp floor joined with the echos of a waterfall as they entered an even darker room, lit only by the soft violet luminescence of moss. Shangri La beckoned her to follow, tapping a hoof on a granite slab Heart could barely see.

“Please, lay down and relax,” she whispered. “I will make all your troubles go away.”

Heart flopped herself on top of the stone, expecting a rush of cold. Instead, she found the polished granite surface warm to the touch and relaxing in its gentle heat. Despite her predisposition against the spa experience, everything from the scent of flowers to the calming sounds of the waterfall washed over her in a relaxing wave. The gentle touch of hooves on her back, combined with quiet ambiance of the experience let Heart, for the first time in months, finally relax. She lay in silence for ten minutes as Shangri La worked her magic over her taut shoulders and tense flanks. It was as if there were hooves all over her, just massaging out the tensions and frustrations piled upon her. A soft whisper drew her back to reality from her trance of pleasure.

“It’s been ten minutes,” said the voice. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Honey, I don’t want you to ever stop,” said Heart Chase. She turned from her stomach onto her back to face Shangri La. “In fact, I’m thinkin’...” She stopped mid sentence to find not one, but two pegasi standing behind her. The Shangri La’s blue wings perfectly countered he rose wings of Constance, both of whom stood over Heart Chase.

“What the hay are you doin’ here?” asked Heart. With her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she looked around the sandstone chamber to find Bard and Ridgeline on similar stone slabs allowing themselves to be pampered by other members of the spa staff. Heart Chase tried to speak, only to have Constance interrupt.

“It wasn’t Celestia’s idea to send you down here,” said Constance, “but we knew that if anyone else told you to come, you’d have ignored them. I know it seems like we’ve been avoiding you, but we wanted to give you something special for your birthday.” Constance let a sly smile fill her face. “Surprised?” Heart continued to flap her jaws for a moment before Shangri La set to work on her legs with a strong hoofed massage that made Heart Chase lie back in enjoyment. Constance only smiled. “I knew you’d like it.”

From the massage room, the spa mares lead the four ponies to the crowning attraction of the temple. The sandstone walls of the hot spring room greeted them with the soft glow of a hundred candles arranged in zen patterns across the walls. Below them, hot water bubbled from deep in the earth ending at last in a natural pool. Though the room should have filled with the eggy scent of sulfur, the rows of candles replacing it instead with soft hints of rose hips and tulips. . As the spa mares left the four friends to the springs, Heart sat with a smile, enjoying the sight of her friends relaxing.

“Ya’ll didn’t have to do this for me,” said Heart Chase at last. “Heck, I forgot it was even mah birthday.”

“We couldn’t forget your birthday; we’re your friends,” said Bard. “I wanted to pull out all the stops: a show, dancing mares, bring in your family. The whole nine yards.”

“Ridgeline actually came up with this idea instead,” said Constance. “A few months ago, if I remember correctly.”

“So that’s why you’ve been avoiding me?” asked Heart.

“No, that was by accident,” Ridgeline replied with a sheepish cough. “I was so busy trying fix my, uh...” he stalled, trying to think of the right word, “condition, that I just tuned out the rest of the world.”

“And I’ve been so busy trying to prepare for the Gala that I didn’t even think to check up on you,” said Constance. She set her head on the edge of the pool, and relaxed her wings out into the bubbling spring. “I think we all needed to unwind a bit.”

Bard only shrugged, and sank deeper into the springs. “I’m just a lousy friend,” he admitted. “But I did get you a gift for your birthday. Well, sort of.”

“Now that you really didn’t have to do,” said Heart.

“You got me a gift for my birthday,” said Bard.

“I did?” asked Heart. She put a hoof to her chin as she tried to remember what she’d done. It came back to her in a sudden flash. “Oh yeah, that white mare with the red mane. Boy was she...” She glanced over at Bard, now frantically waving his hooves. Constance opened an eye and glanced over toward Heart.

“What’s that now?” she asked.

“Uh, I mean,” she stammered. “That fancy white mare with the fiery red mane who delivered it. Boy, I can’t hardly forget her.” Constance only laid her head back along the edge of the pool, seeming to miss Heart’s furious backpedaling.

“So tell me, Ridgeline,” said Bard, steering the conversation away, “how goes your quest?”

“Well I’ve hit a wall,” said Ridgeline. “It’s funny. I feel like I should be able to understand what I’m reading, but it’s like he’s blocking out my com... compre...” He stumbled over the words, trying to bring it to his lips.

“I can understand that,” said Bard. “I promise once we’re through this Gala nonsense, we’ll get that demon out of your head. Once you see what I’ve been working on, you’ll appreciate why I’ve been so absent of late.”

“And what’s that?” asked Heart Chase. Bard responded only with a chuckle.

“You’ll see,” he said.

Later that evening, the four sat around a glass table, taking in the quiet spring breeze along the patio of the spa. From up here, the whole of Equestria stretched before them with spires at Canterlot barely visible in the distance. It gave them all the chance to appreciate just how vast the kingdom really was and just how important it was for them to defend it.

The sharp ring of a dinner bell drew their attention to the waiters carrying steaming trays toward the table. The maitre di bowed and and presented the four with their evening meals: a butternut squash, sauteed and served with a honey lemon glaze. The waiters distributed salad and bread to the table before disappearing inside again. Though the food was delicious, they continue to talk, coming with a plan of action for the next few weeks. The conversation drifted from duty towards a concern they’d only run across recently.

“All these doom and gloom prophets we’ve been seeing coming from the coastlines are starting to worry me,” said Bard. “I’m not normally one to take notice of such loonies, but they just showed up in such huge numbers earlier this year.” He paused to take a bite of his salad. “It’s like some kind of apocalyptic zebra cult, I tell you.”

“I’ve known quite a few zebras in my time,” said Constance, taking a sip of wine. “and they don’t seem to be the type to just accept wild speculation. They’re a lot like earth ponies. Practical, hard working, grounded. No offense, Heart.”

“None taken,” said Heart Chase. “Truth is, I just started noticin’ them myself. They keep goin’ on about how ponies should abandon the coasts and avoid the oceans.”

“Well, that’s certainly not going to happen,” said Bard. “There’s so much trade off the oceans that it’d cripple Equestria to even think about something like that. What do they think is going to happen?”

“Maybe they’re getting instructions from somewhere else?” offered Ridgeline. “I talked to one a few weeks ago. He said that the sky would fall and that the coasts would drown in the folly of the princess.” He paused, as if the words didn’t make much sense to him. “I think he might have been drunk.”

“And since when has Her Majesty done anything wrong?” asked Constance.

“You mean aside from leavin’ the country fer five years?” asked Heart Chase.

“Or trapping her sister in the moon?” asked Bard.

“Really, now,” snapped Constance. “Let’s not start that nonsense again. We’re here to enjoy ourselves, aren’t we?”

The meal continued in cold silence for a few minutes. Though the next course of early strawberries tickled their tongues with tart sweetness, the snapped unpleasantry hung with them like an unwelcome guest.

It wasn’t until Bard remembered Heart’s gift that the silence ended in a soft pop of magic. His horn sparked with a soft glow, and a small velvet bag flashed into existence at the edge of the table. The bag opened, and from it, floated several medallions on chains. The other ponies paused to stare at the them as floated through the air and around their necks.

The medallions were hoof sized discs made from polished platinum and inscribed on with the old seal of the kingdom. Along the edges were filigreed in the shape of shape of sea stones, and turning it over revealed a lid embossed with a compass rose and a button to unlatch it. The button revealed a crystal face that held five colored needles pointing in various directions. Heart Chase studied it a minute before looking back to Bard.

“It’s beautiful,” she said. “It looks like a compass, but why all the needles?” Bard floated medallion  up to the group and pointed at the needles.

“This green hand here points north,” said Bard, “so yes, it is a compass. What’s more important is the other three.” He pointed the other colored needles. “The amber needle will always point to Heart Chase. The sapphire will point to me, the ruby to Constance, and the copper to Ridgeline.” He let the compass dangle around his neck for a moment before continuing. “I know we don’t get too far from each other anymore, and that it’s probably kind of silly to give you all something like this. But I always want to be able to find all of you, no matter what.”

“It’s so beautiful!” gasped Constance. “These things must have cost you a fortune. How did you get the needles to point to us? I had no idea you could even do this.”

“I didn’t make the compasses,” said Bard. “I had the royal jeweler do that, but the magic, that’s all mine.” The gathered ponies looked at their compasses, moving them around to see that the needles kept pointing at their respective targets. Heart learn across the table and gave Bard a giant hug.

“Well that’s the finest birthday gift I’ve ever gotten,” said Heart Chase. “Now I won’t have to keep huntin’ y’all down in the castle no more. Thank you Bard. It’s perfect.”

“That’s some fancy magic,” said Ridgeline, turning the compass over in his hooves. “I really like the compass on the back.”

“Ah, that,” said Bard with a smug smile. “That compass will serve as a focus for a teleport spell. Took me months to get it right, but now we don’t have to use circles and candles anymore to get from place to place.”

“So this was yer secret project?” asked Heart Chase. “No wonder you’ve been so busy. Bard. What’s better then always where knowin’ your friends are?” She picked up a glass and held it aloft. “Here’s to Bard. Greatest magician in all of Equestria, and the best friend a pony could have.”

***

It was well into the evening when the four found her way to their suite and into quiet relaxation. The shared suite broke up into four room with a common room draped in lush velvet and fluffy pillows. From below, the soft sounds of running water mingled with the croaking frogs of spring to make for a perfect evening. Heart Chase sat in quiet reflection, enjoying yet another glass of wine as the Mare in the Moon lit Equestria below. A soft hoof-fall from Bard’s room caught her attention.

“You’re still up?” asked Bard.

“Just enjoyin’ the night,” said Heart Chase. “I’ve been in the city so long I almost forgot the sounds of the country at night. It’s nice to just listen to the world go by.” She turned to watch Bard make his way to a pillow beside her. “What are you doin’ up?”

“I was actually headed to your room,” said Bard. “I... needed some advice.”

“You need advice from me?” asked Heart Chase, trying to suppress a laugh. “Bard, you are so much smarter than me, it ain’t even funny. What advice could you possibly get from me?”

“It’s about a girl,” muttered Bard.

“I can guarantee my approach and yours are gonna be different,” said Heart Chase.

“I know that,” said Bard. “I’m just...” He pointed to his sky blue coat, now spotted in places with the beginnings of grey. “It’s time to settle down, you know? I’m tired of chasing tails, and well... maybe it’s time to start a family.”

“Family’s the most important thing in the world,” said Hear Chase. “My daddy always said that. Come to think of it, so did Iron Pick.” She shrugged. “I dunno if I’m the one to be askin’ for advice on marriage. Mine is all politics, and kinda ended up a disaster.”

“How is your husband, by the way?” Bard asked.

Heart Chase shifted uncomfortably on her pillow, as if squirming could avoid the question. “He ain’t doin’ so well, I think,” she said at last. “He’s missin’ his son and you know that Quill and Red just gave him a grandcolt. I guess he just wants to come home. Seems like the exiles were keen on makin’ friends, so maybe he’ll get his chance.”

“Well you can always go and visit him,” said Bard. “Why don’t you go back with the Zebrica envoy?”

Heart Chase let the idea sink in for a moment before smiling. “That’s a great idea,” she said. “Shoot, and you were comin’ to me for advice.” She scratched her head. “What did you want anyway?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” said Bard. “I just wondered if you can ever get a lady to change her opinion of you.”

“You talkin’ about someone I know?” asked Heart Chase. “I can put in a good word for you.” Her eyes went wide as he face filled with a smile. “It’s Featherfall isn’t it? Boy, I tell you, that filly can’t keep her eyes off you. You just need some courage to...”

“Courage has always been my problem, but it’s not her,” said Bard. “Look, don’t worry about it. Just, you know, keep the tales of our mare chasing exploits to a minimum, would you?”

Heart nodded and turned back to the window. The quiet background of the night’s music passed between them as they sat in silence. After a while, Bard finally stood and walked back to his room. Before the door closed, he turned back to Heart Chase.

“Happy Birthday, Heart Chase,” he said.

“Thanks, Bard,” she replied. “Good night.”

For a while longer, Heart Chase lingered in the common room, letting the cool night air soak into her coat and fill her restless mind with peace. She half expected Ridgeline or Constance to come out and talk to her, but instead found the night stretching before her in quiet solitude. She fell asleep on the pillows in a dreamless slumber far more relaxing than it had any right to be.

Early the next morning, the sounds of a far off rooster brought Heart’s ears to attention far ahead of the rest of her body. As the rest of her facilities came to her, she felt strangely warm, as if covered by a blanket. When the scent of licorice touched her nose, she only smiled. Without even looking, she knew that Constance had come out in the middle of the night. It was a pleasant reminder of the night’s they’d all spent together huddled together for warmth during their adventures. It seemed that no matter where they went, Constance just needed to be around somepony. With Heart Chase stirring beneath her wing, Constance's eyes fluttered open and a smile of content graced her lips.

“Good Morning.”

“Mornin’ to you too,” said Heart Chase. “Didn’t expect to wake up covered in my favorite blanket.”

“Well, seeing as how you couldn’t keep your eyes off her, I got up to go get Shangri La for you,” said Constance. “But you were already asleep, so I figured I’d just curl up beside you and make my wings useful. Besides, we haven’t gotten to spend much time together recently. I do love spending time with you.”

“You always know just how to make a lady feel special,” said Heart Chase. “Too bad you got so many boys chasing after you.”

“I’ll settle down when I’m good and ready,” said Constance with a flip of her silky auburn mane. “In the meantime, I’ll just let my gypsy blood take me where the wind blows. And right now, it’s blowing me to the kitchen. I think I’ll have a muffin.”

Constance wandered away to find breakfast, leaving Heart Chase shivering on the pillows. She was about to go to her room when Ridgeline emerged from his. He raised a salute to her and wandered onto the patio. Something compelled Heart to follow and stand beside him as he looked out onto Equestria. Ridgeline pulled up his compass, and gazed toward the north.

“Thinkin’ about a trip to see your family?” asked Heart Chase.

“I should really go,” said Ridgeline. “I mean, we’ve got good relations with the griffons now and it’s safe to travel to New Hoofswell, right? So why haven't I gone to see them? I mean, it’s been almost three years.”

“Well, you have been busy,” said Heart Chase. “Plus it’s somethin’ like a thousand miles to get there. They wouldn’t expect you to just up and walk there.”

“I know,” sighed Ridgeline. “I keep sending letters up there with my bits, and they keep sending letters back asking when I’m going to come visit.”

“Well, they don’t want yer money,” said Heart Chase. “They just want to spend some time with you. Can you blame them?”

“Not really,” said Ridgeline. “Do you think Bard could take me up there? I mean, I know it’s a lot of trouble for him, but...”

“Hun, of course he could,” said Heart Chase. “Ain’t you asked him? Shoot, he’d probably take you up there soon as we get done with all this Gala business. He offered to take me down to see Iron Pick, I’m sure we can make him drop you off up north. He does claim to be the most powerful mage in Equestria.” She wiggled her hooves as if to signify his great and mysterious power. Ridgeline only chuckled.

The rattle of the curtain brought their conversation to a halt as Constance held the beads to one side. Behind her followed Shangri La with a tray full of breakfast foods and fresh fruits. She smiled, bowed, and excused herself quietly, while Constance busied herself with a plate. Bard eventually emerged from his room to join the breakfast, and they all sat watching the sun rise over Equestria for the beginning of another beautiful day.

“So, I was thinkin’” said Heart Chase after breakfast, “maybe we all should go our separate ways for a bit.” The puzzled looks prompted her to continue. “I ain’t sayin’ that it hasn’t been nice to just get to relax with all, ’cause it has, I’m just saying that maybe we need to get out of each other’s manes for a bit.” She pointed out toward the patio. “Ridgeline ain’t been home since we left Hoofswell, and I ain’t seen Iron Pick since we joined the Knights. I’m thinkin’ we all should do some travelin’ and come back to Canterlot in a few months. Celestia ain’t got nothin’ for us to do anymore, so why should we be hangin’ around the castle makin’ more work for the staff?”

“Are you suggesting we abandon our posts?” asked Ridgeline. “I don’t think that der...derilc... “ He stumbled over the word, trying force it off his tongue.

“It ain’t dereliction if we ain’t got a duty to perform, kiddo.” Heart Chase ruffled his mane with a playful hoof. “We ain’t leavin’ nobody, and it ain’t like we’re not doin’ our jobs. We’re just takin’ some time off.”

“Well, I suppose I could go see my old caravan again,” said Constance. “I can’t remember the last time I was in Stalliongrad and I’m sure that I’m an aunt by now.”

“Don’t you ever write to your family?” asked Bard.

“Well, not really,” said Constance “It’s not like they’ve got an address I can just send mail to. Besides, life’s an adventure for my ponies. Staying in the same spot gets boring after a while, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I suppose you’re right,” said Bard. “Well, I’ll be more than happy to take all of you wherever you want to go,” said Bard. “I’ll even put a spell on your compasses that will give you a one way teleport back home.”

“Too bad we can’t just leave from here,” said Heart Chase. “I’m sure we’ll need a vacation after we’re done with all that Gala nonsense.”

The table fell silent as their plan solidified into truth. The four stared at each other for a minute before smiles filled their faces. They left the table, meeting back only minutes later with bags packed, ready to head toward Canterlot. Their smiles told each that they were thinking the same thing.

Chapter 3

My mother always said that violence rarely solves your problems the way you want. She taught me that the subtle art of seduction and grand play of subterfuge changes their minds better than any blade ever could.

-Mare of the Evening, Tales From a Canterlot Courtesan

With a renewed sense of purpose, the four knights returned to Canterlot in preparation for the Gala. As soon as the chariot set wheels upon the grounds of the castle, an entire herd of panicked ponies swarmed the four, demanding resolution to every minor crisis that appeared in their absence. They looked to each other with a shrug and returned to their world of work and  worry.

Constance took command of the legions of decorators to make the marble walls of Canterlot Castle a place where the zebra would feel welcome without feeling insulted. Botanists and herbalists replaced some of the plants in the castle with native grasses and flowers from the Zebrica plains, while others redecorated the palatial guest room with traditional zebra masks and gifts the princess had received over her years of rule. The entire palace began to transform from a tower of Equestrian style to a marvelous hybrid of zebra and pony stylings fit for any visitor that might pass through doors. With only two days left, the time crunch became apparent to anypony passing through the halls.

“Zillow!” yelled Constance as she fluttered around the grand foyer.. “I thought we agreed that the Zebrica violets would look far better draping off the railings rather than against the walls.”

“I do agree that would be better,” replied the zebra, fussing with the vines. “But these plants, I cannot keep together.”

“Run down to the herbalist and see if she’s got anything to help,” called Constance as she flapped away. “Please just get it done, sweetheart. I really don’t care how.” She later landed in the gardens where a crew of unicorns made themselves busy trimming bushes. Constance looked over their topiary with an approving nod before stopping in front of a pony shaped monstrosity of shrubbery.

“Were’ still working on that one,” said the gardener. “Can’t quite figure out how to carve stripes into it without looking stupid or offensive.”

“Keep at it,” Constance reassured him. “You’re doing great so far, and if worst comes to worse, just... trim it into a seapony or something.” The gardener saluted and went back to his vain attempts to tame the wild hedge.

Despite the minor problems with foliage, the rest of the castle took to the event as a duck takes to water. Year of professional training and endless parades of dignitaries made the experience old hat for them. The kitchen staff didn’t even bat an eye when Constance asked about dozens of bizarre and exotic cuisines. They simply turned to their pantries and got started making samples of meals for approval. It wasn’t until the day before the arrival of the Zebrica envoy that Constance realized she was fretting over every little thing for no reason.

As Zillow told her, zebras weren’t big on pomp and ceremony the way ponies were. Instead they preferred to tell stories by the firelight and perform dances to show their celebration. While they would appreciate and enjoy the gestures put forth by the castle, they wouldn’t be impressed by it. It didn’t matter if the china patterns weren’t perfect or if the traditional masks weren’t exact in their messages. The fact that they had showing hospitality was enough for them.

Not that it made any difference for the planned entertainment. Entertainment from traditional Canterlot plays to the unique dances of the Stalliongrad gypsies ran through Bard’s checklist like wild deer  The entourages of the far flung Equestrians had arrived while Bard was still away, and integrating them into a cohesive show for the diplomats proved as challenging and effective as herding house cats through flaming hoops. Though no stranger to the prima donnas and drama of showbiz, the lifestyle of performance had changed since he’d taken the stage so many years ago. Instead of managing his own act, he found himself running from room to room, trying to force cooperation out of ponies for just one night.

A dozen scrolls floated before Bard as he looked over the lists of entertainment for the night. The relaxing spring a long gone memory by this point, he rubbed the sleep from his eye before turning to final scroll of preparations.

“Alright,” he sighed. He looked out the gathered ponies, a frazzled collection of pegasi, earth ponies and unicorns. “Arpeggio,” he said, pointing to the golden unicorn, “first out is the Royal Equestrian harpist set. They need to be on stage by the end of dinner, and be playing as soon as the dignitaries enter.” He pointed to the unicorn that had busied himself with tuning a set of pipes. “Pan, it’s your job to keep the gypsys away from the harpists for the entire performance. After we’re done, let them kill each other. I really don’t care at this point.”

“I shoulda been a cook,” lamented Pan.

“And I should have stayed in the military,” said Bard. “But I’m a giant coward and you’re a lousy chef, so let’s all just play with the cards we’ve been dealt.” He yawned and shook his head. “Alright, Moon Meadow.” He looked up to find that the pegasus had gone missing. “Where the heck is she?”

“Up here, sir!” called a voice from the rafters. The gathered ponies looked to the ceiling where a green pegasus finished tying off sandbags in the rafters. “Sets and curtains are good to go, sir.”

“Fantastic,” said Bard, checking off another item on his list. “Alright, I’m going to call out names. When you hear your name, you tell me how ready your performers are. Midnight?”

“One hundred Percent, sir.”

“Dandylion.”

“Ninety five percent, sir.”

“Featherfall.”

“Um, about that, sir.” Everypony turned to the white pegasus hiding behind a bit of set. “The dancers from Hoofswell haven’t arrived yet. Madame Constance told me they got waylaid by a late spring snow storm and they won’t be able to make it.”

“So we’ve got a hole in the show,” said Bard.

“Yes, sir,” she said. “I guess so. Sorry.”

Bard sighed again and put a hoof this his head. It wasn’t her fault that her charges hadn’t shown up, nor was it her fault that the set list was going to have to be rewritten. Still, he couldn’t help but shake his head and mutter to himself. What the other ponies heard was a mumbled argument that Bard seemed to be losing with himself.

“All right,” he said at last. “Options, ponies. I want to hear options.”

“Uh, we don’t have any,” said Midnight. “All the ponies good enough to perform for visiting dignitaries are either here or too far away to get here in time.”

“Alright, then how much can we lengthen each set?” asked Bard, tossing his scrolls into a pile.

“Not much,” said Arpeggio. “We’re still going to have a hole about twenty minutes long.”

“Why don’t you do a stage show?” asked Featherfall. “You used to be a magician, right?”

Bard cocked an eyebrow at the remark. “I haven’t done a stage show since before the war.”

“Which one?” asked Dandylion. “Actually, it doesn’t matter. It’s not like you’re out of practice. I’ve seen you doing table magic for your friends. Featherfall can be your assistant. I’ll dig up a costume for you two and Midnight can handle the stage management.”

“I’ve got costumes,” sighed Bard. “I’ll go get my kit. You four keep the performers away from each other until I get back.” He rubbed his temple and let the scrolls float back to his saddle bags. “I’ve got to go all the way across Canterlot, so let’s have everyone on stage at eight for the final dress rehearsal. Featherfall, you come with me. How do you look in fishnets?”

***

Armed with a blueprint and a careful eye, Ridgeline prowled the marble halls of Canterlot Castle looking for signs of weakness in the castle’s security. He planted himself at the corner of a hallway, watching in silence as the castle staff went about their daily tasks. With a clear view of both hallways, he ticked off on the blueprint the areas he couldn’t see and made a note to have additional guards posted in those spot. While he stood still, the echo of two guards laughing rang clear as a bell in his ears. He waited, the laughing growing louder as they approached.

Now he could clearly see the two guards: a tall blue earth pony and a short orange pegasus. They walked through the hall, cracking jokes and pushing past any pony that got in their way. Ridgeline recognized them as Butterfly and Dusty Rose, two junior members of Celestia’s guards with inflated egos and no sense of propriety. They stopped a kitchen mare carrying desserts to snag a treat off her tray despite her protests. They continued down the hall, still making bawdy jokes at the expense of their conquests.

“Did I tell you that I caught Madame Constance changing the other day?” asked Private Butterfly. “Holy Celestia, that mare is hot. I’d like to get her wings all...”

Ridgeline took a step forward, blocking the hallway with his enormous frame. The two soldiers, focused on a passing flank, walked directly into him. Their armor clattered against Ridgeline’s in a castrophony on steel on bronze. The two backed up a step, ready throw hooves at whoever blocked their path when they realized it was Ridgeline staring down at the two in a silent glare.

“C....c...colonel Ridgeline, sir!” stammered Private Butterfly. He threw a hasty salute, while trying to remain as still as possible. “Sorry sir! Didn’t see you there, sir! A thousand apologies, sir!” Dusty Rose adjusted his helmet back to the correct positions before throwing a salute of his own.

“Well, well, well,” said Ridgeline. “If it isn’t the two biggest failures in entire Equestrian army. Tell me, how old are you two?”

“Sir, we’re both fourteen, sir!” snapped Private Dusty Rose. Ridgeline continued to glare at them and slowly shook his head.

“At fourteen, I was a veteran of dozen battles,” said Ridgeline. He removed his helmet and ran a hoof along a vicious scar on his neck. “I got this scar killing a pony that looked a lot like you.” He jabbed the armored hoof at Butterfly. The private’s breastplate dented from the impact and shoved him back a full foot. Despite the throbbing pain in his chest, Butterfly tried to remain perfectly still. “I snagged my coat on his shield as I tore through him.” Their faces grew pale as Ridgeline passed his gaze between the two. It was silent moment before he spoke again, his somber baritone dipping into a gravelly bass. “How did you two come to have such cushy jobs in the castle?”

The two privates looked to each other, unsure of exactly how to answer the question. “Uh...” Dusty Rose started. “My father is Captain Honeycomb, sir. He got me this job right out of basic.”

“My mother is good friends with General Minty Rest, sir,” replied Private Butterfly.

“Must be nice to have people willing to just give you things,” said Ridgeline. By now a crowd of servants and nobility had gathered to watch as Ridgeline dressed down the two young soldiers. The hall stood in rapt silence as Ridgeline’s barely whispered words fell upon the two soldiers like a ton of bricks. “And it must be nice to spend all your time leering at flanks and making a nuisance of yourself while others bust their tails to get things done.” He looked down on the cowering soldiers, hints of black clouded the white of his eye. The two privates took a cowering step back from their commanding officer. “I don’t care how young you are or how you got this assignment. This is the military and lives depend you taking your post seriously. If I catch you two idiots screwing around again, I’ll have you shipped to New Hoofswell. If you’re lucky, you’ll freeze to death before the griffins can eat you.”

“Sir, yes, sir!” bellowed the two before turning to flee. They got about four steps before a growl halted them in their tracks.

“Did I dismiss you?” Ridgeline snarled. The two turned back to Ridgeline, their hooves quaking. “If I ever hear you even speak of Madame Constance again, I’ll will grind you to paste beneath my hooves. She is a lady of honor, no matter what you may have heard about her past.” He stomped a hoof, rattling the windows and chandeliers of the hall beneath his might. The gathered crowd jumped backward as the hall quaked beneath them and the two privates nearly jumped out of their armor. “Now get out of my sight.”

Private Butterfly and Private Dusty Rose turned and bolted through the hallway as fast as their armored hooves could carry them. Ridgeline, on the other hand, simply turned back to his checklist and continued his slow walk through the halls. The black along his eye began to fade back to white as he talked to himself.

“One more guard here,” he said to no one in particular. “And one on each end of the hall.”

Butterfly and Dusty Rose blew past Heart Chase in such a hurry that they didn’t even stop to salute. Heart Chase ignored the two, instead running toward the massive crash she’d heard just moments earlier. She spun around the corner to find the hall, not in a state of panic, but full of ponies going about their jobs. Ridgeline trotted to her and gave a salute.

“I assume you came running because of that crash?” he asked.

“Sounded like somethin’ hit the castle,” said Heart Chase.

“Just making a point to those two young privates,” said Ridgeline. “I really don’t think there’s any hope for them.”

Heart only shrugged and looked up at her companion. The hint of black at the corner of his eye caught her attention. “You okay, hun?”

“Oh, uh...” Ridgeline looked away, turning so that Heart could only see his eyepatch. “Nothing. Just got a little angry. I’m fine.”

“Alright then,” said Heart Chase. “You know where to find me if you need somethin’.” She walked away, turning an eye back to Ridgeline as he inspected the halls. That darkness in his eye was dangerous, and they all knew it, but what worried her more than Ridgeline losing control were the odd reports of a shadow sneaking around the castle grounds.

For the past few days, several guards reported seeing a shadow in even the brightest halls. Further investigation turned up nothing, even when Bard searched the area for traces of magic. Still, it was enough to raise an alert at the back of Heart’s mind. WIth all the heightened security for the Gala, somepony would turn up something solid, and they could all just relax.

Heart trotted toward the high towers of Canterlot castle, going over the last of the security preparations and making the final checks on the weather. The stairwells echoed with her hoofbeats as she made her way up the marble towers toward the weather nest. It reminded her of the Griffin’s Rookery near Hoofswell where she fought the last vestiges of the Nightmare demon.

A cold chill ran through her coat as she remembered the creature’s dying shrieks. Powered by the demon trapped in his mind, Ridgeline destroyed the monster with his bare hooves and nearly killed every other pony there in his berserk rage. If it hadn’t been for the friendship of a filly, everything would have ended right there. It reminded Heart that she’d been lucky more than once in the past few years, and that she couldn’t rely on luck much longer.

After an impossibly long walk, the stairs eventually emptied out into “The Nest” where a dozen or so pegasi were either napping, playing cards, or otherwise simply relaxing. At the clop of Heart’s hoofsteps, every set of eyes turned to face the stairwell. Heart took off her helm, and swept her sweaty mane from her eyes.

“Ya’ll are lucky you can fly,” she panted.

“Such are the gifts of the pegasi,” said a lavender pegasus. The raindrops on his flank and bars on his uniform told Heart everything she needed to know. “I assume you’re here to check on the weather report?”

“Gimme a minute, Cloud Drop,” huffed Heart. She leaned against a windows, trying to catch her breathe in rasping coughs. After a minute, she shook her head and stood tall. “Alright, Captain, let’s hear it.”

“High atmospheric winds are blowing in from the north in excess of fifty miles an hour, headed by a large mass of clouds.” Cloud Drop pointed to a map of Equestria. “Since it’s headed due south, I can only assume that it’s Star Heart bringing the New Hoofswell and Griffin delegates.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time that ol’ unicorn’s done that,” said Heart Chase. “Is that gonna cause any problems from tomorrow’s ceremonies?”

“My pegasi have been compensated by moving masses of colder air into the region to compensate. It’s going to be a bit nippy tomorrow evening, but we shouldn’t have any rain until next week. So clear skies all around, ma’am.”

“Well that’s just great,” said Heart. “I knew ya’ll wouldn’t let Canterlot down.”

“We are the best, ma’am,” replied Cloud Drop. “But if I may make a suggestion? Why not send Madame Constance up here next time instead of walking up thirty flights of stairs?”

“Boy, don’t go tellin’ me how to live my life,” said Heart Chase. “‘Sides, I could use the exercise. Gonna have cake to burn off my belly tomorrow.”

“So you don’t want a ride back to the lower levels?”

Heart looked back down the spiraling staircase with a groan. “I wouldn’t say no if you ain’t busy.”

***

The city of Canterlot hummed with activity as Featherfall and Bard made their way through the streets toward an small house overlooking the cliff face. With a simple spell, the lock clicked and the door swung open. Inside the unassuming home was simple furniture, obviously old but well cared for. Lining the walls were tapestries of Equestrian history mixed in with flags of Equestria, and a tattered herald of the Lunar Republic behind a piece of glass. Featherfall glanced around the room for a moment, taking in the quiet peace of historian’s home. It wasn’t till her eyes caught the painting above the mantle that she put a hoof to her mouth in a gasp.

Above the mantle was portrait of four unicorns, all sky blue with white hair. A mother and father stood smiling down on their twin colts, and the brothers shared a cutie mark of a crescent moon. The portrait had been posed at night, and the mareless moon illuminated the happy family as sure as the sun lit the day.

“Is that... Halberd?” asked Featherfall. “Leader of the Lunar Rebellion?”

Bard didn’t hear the question, as he was busy searching for something in a closet off the living room. Featherfall couldn’t stop staring at the painting, and after a while, it seemed to stare back at her. A chill ran down her spine, and she turned away from the happy family above the fireplace.

“Found it!” said Bard, producing a top hat and tails. “I knew Mom couldn’t get rid of our old act.”

“This is your mother’s place?” asked Featherfall.

“Oh, yes,” said Bard, floating a trunk out of the closet. “She moved here after Ponyville got leveled during the invasion. It took us week to move all her stuff here. She never throws out anything.”

“And... that family above the mantle is yours?” asked Featherfall.

Bard put the trunk down and cleared his throat with an almost guilty cough. “Yeah that’s the whole family,” he said. He pointed to the stallion, then to the colt sitting at his feet. “Halberd and Glaive, great leaders of the Lunar Rebellion. Prized generals of Nightmare Moon, and butchers of Everfree Castle.” He let out a weary sigh. “They may not have been on the right side of history, but they fought for what they thought was right and for that I can’t fault them. Even Mom was in the army for a while before things got really bad.”

“You mother was part of the Lunar Rebellion?” asked Featherfall.

“Well, I was too when it first started,” said Bard. “If you remember, we thought we were fighting for Luna back then.” Featherfall winced at the mention of the Night Princess. “It turns out we were wrong. Dad and Glaive kept fighting for Nightmare Moon. I took Mom back to Ponyville and then defected to the Kin of Luna.”

“Where’s your mom now?” asked Featherfall.

“She went to go see some of the other mares that she served with,” said Bard, gathering up the chest of costumes and props. “She didn’t do any fighting, but she was a mess officer. She called her tent Glittershine’s Good Eats and mothered every pony that came through the door.” Bard paused for a moment. “Now that you mention it, she’s been gone longer than she said she was going to be.”

“I’m sure she’s fine,” said Featherfall. “There’s so much history in here. Where’d she get all this stuff?”

Bard looked around the living room for a moment, taking in the tapestries, and noticing for the first time in a long while all the collected art and memorabilia. Some of it he remembered acquiring on the road with Glaive, while other objects came home with Glittershine during the war. Most of it had just come into her possession by pure chance, trickling in from friends passed.

“Well, when you get to be her age, the things you have remind you of the times you’ve forgotten.” Bard wiped some of the dust off the case containing the blood stained Lunar Republic banner. “Even if they’re memories you’d rather just forget.”

“So did you find what you were looking for?” asked Featherfall after a silent minute.

Bard snapped back to reality, and shook his head. “I did,” said Bard, producing another tuxedo. “How do you feel about getting sawn in half?”

***

Pain.

Iron Pick was used to pain. From his humble beginnings as a miner, the pain of hard work followed him through his life. The dull ache let you know you were alive and that your honest labor put bread on the table for another day. That was a good pain, but it wasn’t the pain he felt now.

When he joined the military, pain followed him throughout his training in the form of cuts, aches, and scrapes. A thousand push ups, and a thousand miles marched in full kit left the body sore and achy, but that pain became a symbol of pride. It became a common bond between brothers and sisters in arms. That was a pain to be proud of, but this wasn’t the pain he felt now.

On the battlefield fighting against the Lunar Rebellion, pain followed in the form of grievous wounds. Iron Pick vividly remembered the time he caught an arrow in his side. He recalled with misery how it stuck in his rib, and how the infection nearly killed him. That pain to worry about, but it wasn’t the pain he felt now.

His friend pain followed him into old age. His joints and muscles stiffened as the years progressed, taking with them the limberness of youth, but such was the price of living. The aches and stiffness reminded him that he was alive, and that he had accomplished so much in his years. It was a pain of the elderly, but it wasn’t the pain he felt now.

No, he pain he felt now was that of terror. There no pride to attach to it; no real reason for the crippling agony inflicted upon him. There was only suffering and misery that kept Iron Pick from his feet. He opened his eyes a hair to gaze upon the multitude of ponies that lie in torture on the dirt floor around him. Each and everyone a unicorn; each and everyone in just as much pain as he. It was a hall of suffering, and there was no respite.

He remembered a spell from long ago that the company medic taught him which would alleviate pain, but left the recipient blinded to the world. So unbearable was the pain, the ebony stallion cared not a single whit that he would be defenseless against the world. He only wished for the pain to stop.

As he concentrated his magic, a soft sobbing caught his ear. Next to him, a mare about his own age tried and failed to hold back her tears from the endless suffering surrounding them. Her sky blue coat and grey mane, barely visible in the dim prison hut, seemed familiar to him somehow. Through the haze of pain, he couldn’t place it, but something about her called to him. The spell began to blossom and he touched his horn to the mares side. With a silent glow, her weeping stopped. The pain faded from her body and she began a slow drift into sleep.

Iron Pick was not so lucky.

From above him, a gem of pure onyx sparked with a bolt of power that caught Iron Pick’s horn like a lightening rod. The gem arced for a full minute as Iron Pick filled the hut with screams of suffering. The screaming only stopped when gem ceased, leaving Iron Pick a twitching and smoking mess.

Glittershine’s eyes opened to gaze upon her wounded savior. Though the stupor of the spell enveloped her, she summoned the energy to put her hooves around Iron Pick. She placed her head on his neck, and held him as he wept in unbridled agony. She didn’t know where he came from, or even his name, but his kindness reminded her of her late husband. Perhaps she could thank him once this was all over.

That is, if they lived that long.

Chapter 4

All the pomp and ceremony surrounding dinner with dignitaries left me bored, as I never had anything to discuss with them. They all grew up with a silver spoon in their mouth, where I was raised with a blade in my teeth. To me, they were nothing by smiles and empty costumes.

-Memories of a Demon Mind

Bells chimed throughout the city of Canterlot, filling the air with the din of a dozen bronze tones. As the markets and streets opened for the morning, the bells above announced to Canterlot and the surrounding valleys that today began a day of peace for visitors from around the world. Soon the streets would fill with dignitaries and nobility from all corners of the globe, and the good ponies of Canterlot would welcome them as family.

From high atop the towers of Canterlot, a pony sat peering through a telescope at the winding roads leading to the castle. Every so often, he’d turn an eye to the sky in search of the cloud bank that bore friends from the north. As he watched the roads below, a moving tent of exotic design caught his eye. If the caravan hadn’t been quite so large, he might not have seen it till it was far closer. Instead, the glimmering silver accents announced to the world that the representatives of Zebrica had arrived in Equestria.

Ponies gathered along the walls of Canterlot to garner a look at their exotic cousins. The dozens of caravans rolled toward the city in bellowing procession with a complex banner of grey and black flying high above the parade of striped coats. Every pony on the streets watched in awe as a hundred cloaked zebras made their way to the front gate. Standing at the gate to greet them stood Heart Chase and the other senior Knights of Friendship. The parade came to a halt, and a zebra mare clad in copper bangles stepped from the parade line.

“Habrai bibi,” she said. She touched a hoof to her forehead, and brought it down again. “In your words, ‘greetings, friends’. I am Mtume, but you may call me Messenger. I speak on behalf of Malkia Lshara. We bear greetings from Zebrica and offer you our friendship.”

Heart took a step forward, and bowed to the zebra. “Hab-ria bi-bi,” she replied, completely butchering the pronunciation. She cursed herself silently for not practicing the greeting earlier. “In our words, welcome. We accept your friendship, Messenger, and welcome you to Canterlot. I’m Heart Chase, and it is the honor of the Knight of Friendship to escort ya’ll to the castle. The princess eagerly awaits your arrival, and hopes that you find our hospitality acceptable.”

“You are kind, Heart Chase,” replied Messenger. “Will you and your diplomats join our parade so that we may continue in peace?”

Heart looked to her companions. They stood in silence, each dressed in the uniform of their homelands. Bard wore a great cloak, pinned at the sides with an amethyst and trimmed in silver threads. Constance’s gold earrings and bangles complimented the flowing cottons of the gypsy skirt that hung around her thighs and hips. Ridgeline wore only the armor of his station to hide the fearsome scars along his body. Heart turned back to Messenger and nodded. The buttons of her uniform rattled quietly against the wool stripes.

“We will join you in your display of peace,” said Heart Chase. “Let it be known that all of Equestria greets you, and that you are welcome in our cities and our homes as guests.” The Knights fell into formation at the front the parade, joining Messenger as they again marched toward the castle.

Surrounding the parade of zebras, the citizens of Canterlot threw flowers, welcoming them as treasured guests in their city. The cobblestone paths rang with the clop of a thousand hoof-beats echoing through the corridors of stone buildings. The noise of celebration drowned out the clatter of bells as the city became a single noise of joyous welcome to the strangers from Zebrica. The castle gates opened in for the parade of caravans, zebras, and guests, welcoming all to the palace grounds for the first time since Celestia’s return.

Past the castle gates, the parade came to a rest and the servants of the house descended upon the zebras like a swarm of friendly locust. The rank and file found themselves whisked away by the house staff, while the golden caravan found its way to the castle stairs. Without words, the zebras pulling the caravan unhitched themselves and circled their charge. Messenger gestured for to the Knights to follow as she disappeared inside the caravan.

Inside, the silk walls spoke in pictures of the history of the zebra, each inch covered by a story of victory or great sorrow. The longest night hung from the ceiling as a reminder to the shared experience of the world and along the edges, space remained for more tales to be embroidered. The Knights stood in quiet fascination as Messenger disappeared behind a curtain. A strange language floated from behind the curtains and another voice joined Messengers. Bard cocked an ear to the side, trying to listen in on the conversation. A moment later, the curtain opened to reveal a zebra clad hoof to hip in flowing black silks.

Messenger bowed low. “I present to you, our emissary and heir to the throne of Zebrica, Malkia Lshara.”

The knights bowed low at the presentation of royalty, rising only Messenger asked them. Bard raised a hoof to his mane, and repeated Messenger's earlier gesture.

“We are honored to have you, here, Princess Glyph,” said Bard. Heart Chase perked up for a moment. What she heard wasn’t what he was saying, but instead, he spoke in Zebrican and projected into the Knights thoughts the translations. The soft glow of surrounding his horn shed another candles worth of light to the inside of the caravan. “I am Bardiche, head mage of the Knights of Friendship.”

“You speak our tongue?” asked the princess. “I was told no one here knew our language.”

“It is my magic to understand,” said Bard. “May I introduce my friends?”

“Please do,” replied Princess Glyph with a smile

“I present to you, General Heart Chase, Commander of the Knights of Friendship,” introduced Bard. “With her are Madame Constance, Head of Diplomatic Relations. Finally, this is Colonel Ridgeline, Chief Bodyguard. If it pleases your highness, Ridgeline and I will be your personal escorts for the duration of your visit. I will do my best to provide you with anything you need.”

Ridgeline removed his helmet and bowed to the princess. “It is an honor to serve, your highness.”

Princess Glyph smiled at the massive stallion, and nodded politely. “To loan me two of her favored servants speaks much of Celestia’s generosity. I hope to soon meet your sun queen.”

“The princess will see you immediately,” said Constance. “If your highness will accompany Bard?”

Bard and Ridgeline stepped out of the caravan and escorted Princess Glyph and Messenger down the stairs of the wagon. Her black silks framed the stripes of her face, giving her a severe, but refined look. The few remaining zebras standing guard converged around their princess, remaining silent as they moved. Ridgeline studied their movements with the trained eye, scanning them for weakness or any signs of mistrust. Their armor was made up of hardened wood scales backed by leather, and the elongated shields that wrapped around their chests bore the same black and grey sun symbol as their flag.

Messenger spoke a few words in her own language to tall, scarred zebra stallion.  He approached Ridgeline with the zebra’s greeting, and Ridgeline returned it in his own clumsy fashion.

“You are to be our escort?” he asked with a heavy accent. Though the zebra was at least almost a head taller than the other guards in his service, Ridgeline still towered over him. The two stood in silence for a moment, sizing the other up.

“For the duration of her highness’s visit, Bardiche and I are in her service,” said Ridgeline at last. “I am Colonel Ridgeline. I assume that you are her highness’s guard?”

“I am Kisu,” he replied after a moment. “And it has been the duty of my family for a thousand seasons to guard the lives of Zebrica royalty. I appreciate the concern of your princess, but the protection of Malkia Lshara is well in hoof.”

“I am not here to protect,” said Ridgeline, “though I will gladly give my life in her defense should the need arise. I am here as a escort and as a courtesy. Treat me as you would treat one of your own.”

Kisu looked over Ridgeline again before nodding. “Very well,” he said at last. “Join ranks, soldier.”

“If it pleases you, Princess, I will escort you to her majesty, Princess Celestia,” said Bard.

As the zebra entourage marched into the castle, the sky surrounding the courtyard grew dark. Above them, a thick bank of clouds sank from the sky, filling the courtyard with a dense fog that obscured all it touched. The clatter of armor and call to arm echoed through the fog, only to be silenced with a word from Heart Chase.

“Don’t get your armor in a twist,” she said, as she approached the fog bound figures. “Canterlot welcomes you to the Gala,” she said. “It’s a real honor that y’all came in from all the way up north to come see us.” She saluted, and the ponies stepped forward from the fog. At the head of the herd was a old unicorn stallion, draped in thick wools, and bearing the sash of an officer. With him were two stern looking earth ponies, and a smaller, yet very fuzzy adolescent pegasus in poorly fitting armor. Behind them was small flock of griffins, decked out in bronze helms and flamboyant breastplates. A massive khaki feathered griffin and the elderly unicorn approached the remaining Knights.

“Canterlot welcomes you, Star Heart,” said Heart Chase, bowing to the unicorn. “And Equestria welcomes the griffon kingdoms, Sir Manus.”

“It is good to see you again,” said Star Heart. “I fear this will be my last journey to the capital, General, but I’m glad to know that Celestia has left the defense of the kingdom in such capable hooves.”

The griffon put a claw to his chest and bowed with a spread wing. “An honor to see you again, General Heart Chase.” He nodded to Constance. “How fares Equestria?”

“Better now that friends arrive from all parts,” said Constance. “Glad to see that you could make it in time.”

“We have Star Heart to thank for that,” said Manus. “I’m so pleased that Princess Celestia extended an invitation to the griffin kingdoms. My wife sends her regards, and apologies for being unable to attend.”

“I haven’t forgotten about what she did for us in the Rookery,” said Constance. “I hope she’s well?”

“Very well, actually,” said Manus, puffing his chest. “She’s currently sitting on a new egg.”

“Now that is a cause for celebration,” said Constance. “Let me show you to your quarters.” The griffins and ponies followed Constance, but the fuzzy young pegasus stayed behind.

“Excuse me, Heart Chase?” asked the fuzzy young pegasus. “Is Ridgeline still here?”

“Muffins!” said Heart Chase. “I’m so happy to see you again! How yah doin’?”

“Well,” said Muffins. “Mom said it would be good for me to see the world, and Mister Star Heart said I could come with him.”

“And why the armor?” asked Heart.

“Dad said It’d look more official,” she replied, “and less like I was getting special treatment. I mean, I am, but you know...” She shrugged, unsure of how to finish that sentence.

“Well, don’t worry about it,” said Heart. “Plenty of room in the castle, but if you’re gonna pretend to be in the military, you gotta call me General. Why don’t we find you something more suitable to wear?”

They turned to move toward the castle when the clop of hooves caught Heart’s attention. She turned to face the gate where another half dozen dignitaries made their way to the gate. A smile overtook Heart’s face when she recognized the earth ponies leading the procession.

The tall blue stallion walked with an air that spoke volumes of his confidence, and the pick and quill that adorned his flank told all who saw it just who he was. The red earth pony walked with similar pride, though with an abbreviated trot as to support the foal swaddled against her chest. Heart approached, and rather than saluting, she threw her arms around her.

“I can’t even tell ya’ll how happy I am to see yah,” said Heart Chase, letting her accent slip further. “Welcome to Canterlot, Mayor and Missus Pick. I’m supposed to give you a big ol’ speech about honored guests and what not, but I think you already know all that.”

“It’s good to see you too, Aunt Chase,” said Red Pick, returning the hug. “It didn’t take us but three days to get here now that there’s a road.”

Heart stepped back from her niece, and saluted the stallion. “Good to see you again, Quill.”

“The honor’s all mine, Heart,” replied Quill. “Have you heard from my father recently?”

“He sends his regards,” said Heart Chase. “I’m thinkin’ I’m gonna go down to see him once all this hoopla settles down. You’re welcome to join me, but I’ll understand if you don’t want to with Apple Pick bein’ so young and all.”

“He should know his grandfather,” said Quill. “We’ll be happy to join you on your journey, but for right now, we’d better do the whole diplomacy thing.”

“Oh, right,” said Heart Chase. “Well, I’ll show y’all to your rooms. The festivities start tonight around with dinner, then there’s a show, and a big dance tomorrow night. I’m gonna be pretty busy, but I promise I’ll make time for y’all.”

“I understand,” replied Red. “I know you got this big new fancy life in Canterlot, and a whole heap of responsibility to go along with it, but I also know that you’d never forget your family. After all, family is what’s important.”

***

A hundred years ago, no one would have believed that such a gathering could have ever taken place. Though Equestria had been founded on the principles of cooperation and friendship all those years ago, such feelings never really extended to those other races that inhabited the world.. Through the turbulence of misunderstanding, ponies began to fear and loathe the zebra and the griffins, and wars between the races flared up at even the slightest provocation. Yet here the races of the land stood shoulder to shoulder listening to the sun goddess delivering her blessings to all.

“For peace between all is what we seek,” she continued. “We may all share different beliefs, different cultures, customs, and histories, but peace is the one thing that can bring us together as one. Thank you, my friends. Canterlot and the whole of Equestria welcomes you all.”

Celestia’s speech concluded with a polite stomping of hooves of all type upon the marble floor the throne room. Banners of every nation hung side by side, adorning the walls with the flags of far off lands. With a glance around the room, one could gather that every nation had sent an emissary  of peace to the Gala. From the tribal banners of the Hamites, to the silken heraldry of the griffins, the walls became a geography lesson for Heart Chase as she glanced around the room. With a crowd of so many different types of creatures, it was difficult to remain vigilant. Ponies she could read with ease, but the thoughts of pigs, minotaurs, and griffins? She’d have to learn quickly.

With the conclusion of Celestia’s greeting to all, the crowd began to file out of throne room and into the grand ballroom where an army of palace servants stood ready to meet the needs of their new guests. Integrated into their ranks were the zebras, Hamites, and the odd griffin ready and willing to serve. Despite the differences in size and species, the servants moved as a whole, serving their diplomats with a practiced aire of finery. Truly the language of service transcended all barriers.

In the corner, far from clatter of plates and cups, Heart Chase stood back, watching how the creatures interacted with each other. Hamites were no fans of griffins, as made obvious by the tension in haunches and the suspicious glances shared between them. Griffins, on the other hand, were clearly not impressed by the small group of minotaurs, and took the opportunity to voice their disdain in their own tongue. While Heart Chase couldn’t understand the squeaks and squawks of the griffins, their body language of tense stares and subtle wing movements made it easy to guess their feelings. But for all the misgivings of the guests, the exchanges between them were lighthearted and friendly enough for the situation.

Yet, something about it all unnerved Heart Chase. She stared out into the crowd, trying to find something, anything, amiss that would cause the levites to end and catastrophe to fill the void. It was as if there were something or someone that was lurking just out of view, ready to bring about the end of everything. For her entire life, Heart Chase’s ability to sense problems before they started served her both on the farm and in the field. In the palace, that sense had grown dull, but for some reason the Gala brought it back in full force. Something was definitely wrong, and it was up to her to find it.

No one noticed Heart Chase’s exit from the ballroom, save for Ridgeline, who only nodded as she passed. He, along with Kisu and Messenger, stood behind Princess Glyph, waiting silently as she spoke to the gathered diplomats.

“The Southern Lands will welcome Hamites, I assure you, Chief Tiggywinkles,” she said. “The grasslands could use your kind, and I think that you would find the environment to your liking.”

“I would extend the same invitation to you, but I don’t think you’d care for the snowy climes of the Northern Regions,” said Manus.

“My tribes go everywhere, Colonel Manus,” replied Chief Tiggywinkles. “When it is cold, we grow our fur to protect us. When it is hot, we shed it to keep cool. We are, as they say, adaptable.” She placed a cloven hoof to her jaw and giggled. “I really is quite wonderful to be able to speak without a translator, Princess Celestia. Your servant has quite the talent.”

“His special talent is magic, after all,” replied the princess. “And I am grateful a pony like him would choose to serve the greater good as he does.” Bard only bowed slightly, concentrating more on keeping the translation clear than speaking for himself.

“I understand you have some entertainment for us tomorrow evening?” asked the minotaur.

“Oh yes,” replied Celestia. “A wonderful gathering of talent from the whole of Equestria eager to entertain. I think you’ll all be quite pleased.” Celestia floated a teacup to her lips, and took a sip. “Princess Glyph, I understand that you also have brought talent you with to showcase?”

“Indeed I do,” replied the zebra princess. “Messenger will hammer out the details with whomever is in charge of the show. I do hope there’s room?”

“I’m sure we can figure out something,” said Celestia with a nod toward Bard. “Bardiche, why don’t you take a break? I can maintain your spell while you and Messenger speak.”

“Of course, your majesty,” replied Bard with a relieved sigh. “If you please?”

Leaving the sea of diplomats behind, Messenger and Bard walked from the ballroom and into the extensive hallways of the castle proper. Bard quietly listened for Messenger’s thoughts, but heard only the steady sound of waves crashing along the shore. Messenger stopped, and turned to Bard.

“I speak your tongue,” she said. “There is no need for you to translate. My thoughts are my own, and I do not wish to share them with you.”

“My apologies,” replied Bard. The two continued their walk through the winding hallways in silence for a moment until Bard  spoke again. “Princess Glyph said you had something you’d like to feature in our performance?”

“That is true, yes,” replied Messenger. “I don’t know how much you know of our culture, but the traditional dance of the zebra king is something that I feel I should... share with the ponies of Equestria.” She smiled slightly, and turned toward Bard. She stared for a moment, letting her eyes trail along his blue coat and white mane. “You are a puzzle aren’t you?”

“Beg pardon?” asked Bard.

“It is not surprising that you don’t remember me,” she said. “It has been a decade, and we were in very different places then. You served in her army alongside your family as a true loyalist to the Lunar Republic, while I had been drafted to serve in the Zebra Corps.”

“There were many zebras in the ranks of the Lunar Army,” Bard replied. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t remember you.”

“Of course, why would General Bardiche deign to speak with a zebra conscript?” She flicked her striped tail, running it along Bard’s back. “It must be tough for a pony like you to be without a battle. Tell me, General, do you miss the wars?”

“I’ve had enough war to last me a lifetime,” replied Bard. “I’ve fought in Lunar Rebellion and the Second Uprising. I’ve fought demons and monsters that threatened the peace of Equestria, and I don’t miss it one whit. If you want war stories, you should talk to Ridgeline.”

“The Demon of Equestria is still feared by many of the zebras,” said Messenger. “Tales of the black eyed monster that tore apart all in his path still act as serve as a means to keep children quiet at night. I would sooner run in terror than talk to that monster.”

The pair found themselves at the entrance to the grand hall where a half a dozen ponies worked to put the finishing touches on the stage. Above them, pegasi flitted from rafter to rafter, securing scenery, curtains, and other props. Messenger looked out into the vast hall, and nodded.

“Would you care to see what entertainment the zebras have to offer?” she asked.

“Of course,” said Bard. He turned toward the rafters. “Constance! Would you be so kind as to assist?”

As if on a gentle breeze, the rose colored pegasus floated from the rafters and into the hall. “Gladly,” said Constance. “Will you be performing the traditional blade dance?”

Messenger only smiled, and with a single leap, landed upon the stage. Bard watched as the bangles around her fetlocks danced and spun in time with the mare’s movements. The soft clatter of gold on gold gave way to the resound crash of blade on blade as a dozen other zebra mares took their place on stage with Messenger. In the swirl of silk and steel, Bard could hardly make out the details of their movements, instead losing himself in the sound and fury of a battle dance hundreds of years in the making.

Constance and Bard watched in fascination as the dance reached a fever pitch. Zebras bound over each other, turning somersaults and backflips in the air as if they could fly without wings. The stomp of hoof and clash of blade joined with the voices of the mares as they sang, creating a symphony of chaos that swirled around the stage in a maelstrom of organized madness. The intensity dimmed for a moment, bringing the chanting and hoofwork to a low rumble, only to ramp back up in a climax of raised voices and clanging blades.

A moment later, the noise ceased, leaving the mares prostrate along the floor in the with Messenger standing on her back hooves in the center. Too stunned to applaud, the ponies working in the hall simply stood with mouths agape.

“Well,” said Bard at last. “That certainly beats my magic show.”