Journey with a Batpony

Strangely enough, Twilight had been anticipating a lot from another night at the Mountain of Sunfall, but after the brief exchange with the hurting Countess Consort nothing of great significance had happened. If anything, Twilight had been told through the palace servants that, as the Honored Lord’s state had not been improving and the Honored Count had expressed the need to stay near his father, she had had a chance to familiarize herself with the Mountain at her own leisure. At least when it had come to its publicly available places.

Twilight had decided to make use of that, but the said public spaces were few and far between, as it had quickly turned out. There was the shrine, of course, with its wondrous architecture, but she hadn’t felt like revisiting it yet, for obvious reasons. Other than that she had found only one gathering place that seemed more lively. It served as a sort of marketplace, though one could scarcely call it a location to do business in. It was actually more like a compact exchange hub, a specially marked portion of the massive ring which created the batpony settlement. Nothing more than a number of simple stalls, where ponies were distributing mostly produce and cloth. All under the watchful eye of the Sunfall Family crest, reminding them of service, duty and abstaining from acquiring luxury and affluence.

Not that Twilight was immediately criticizing the place, but in contrast to the grandiose locations from the other Mountains, this one was lackluster to say that least.

At least she spotted that she wasn’t causing an affront with her mere, more colorful presence. Only passing curiosity, as most of the ponies were too busy with their own work, creating the humble, deferential atmosphere towards to Goddess on high and the Family’s ways.

Twilight was doing her best not to interfere with neither action or word, though she allowed herself the quiet commentary as she observed the dealings from the side for a while. “I know it’s very different from what I am used to, but… now I cannot help but consider that there is a certain, intriguing and appealing simplicity to this.”

“What exactly would you mean, Tw—hwalba knaze?” Rowan Berry asked. For her credit, she did try to go for just Twilight’s name, but didn’t yet manage to break through the convention.

It was a kind gesture already, however. “As you surely know well, Rowan Berry, I’ve been Princess Celestia’s, the Judging Sun’s, personal student since my childhood. I spent a lot of my time in Canterlot. In the Palace, or sometimes in the most prestigious districts. And I always saw a certain… rush there. One that I am definitely not witnessing in a place like this.”

“A lot of ponies, a lot of things to do?” the healer asked, clearly interested, and not really showing discomfort about Twilight’s connection to the harsh deity. Or perhaps hiding it well enough at this point.

“That’s one thing, yes, but also… It is the capital, it has a lot of powerful noble families, ponies trying to show their affluence, their status. Jewelry, fashion, fancy manors, the like. They always tend to their own standing and repute, and wish to showcase it for everypony to witness and admire. It’s like a constant struggle, we actually use the term ‘rat race’ sometimes.”

“I think I heard it once or twice, actually,” the other mare admitted, looking around the humble marketplace. “Definitely not a thing here, is it?” she asked back, now seeing the point being made.

“No, not at all,” Twilight admitted. “I’m still not that keen on this… sternness and lack of joy, but I definitely see the appeal of a life unburdened by having to worry what gown will awe your neighbors and whether your tableware is still considered elegant…”

“Tac… Tac, I think I could see that. Though I don’t think there’s anything particularly wrong with wanting to have nice silverware. Saw a really nice set once at the Tuarie, just didn’t have the pazn to get it,” the healer revealed with a smile. “Shame, it had roses carved on it.”

“I see that you don’t mind some elegance,” Twilight told the mare, though she tried to keep her expression neutral and her tone controlled, for the sake of potential onlookers.

Rowan Berry stopped the smirk that she clearly had coming, then replied in a trained, conspiratorial tone. “I don’t find my life’s calling in affluence, and I am from a plebeian house, but that does not mean I am not a mare still. A little bit of comfort and something to catch my eye is not wrong, not in my eyes, nor in the Goddess’. She wouldn’t have granted us with so much silver otherwise.”

“Point taken,” Twilight admitted, herself trying to hide a small smile.

She looked about again from the side of the cavern that she decided to occupy for a brief moment. The austerity of the Mountain was a little less overbearing when there was a pony one could converse freely with. Or mostly freely. And the said pony even had a chance of becoming a friend.

Still, Twilight couldn’t stop her gaze from venturing more to the side, where, at a respectable distance, Midnight Wind stood still and stern. Like a bodyguard that he was meant to be. And Twilight felt… not sure how. She was looking at him in a new light, with a perspective that she had forced as much as had been forced into. And there he was, a proud, dutiful warrior, standing guard and behaving like it was expected of him as she enjoyed a conversation with Rowan Berry.

If Twilight were to be honest, at least it wasn’t like he was going to be eavesdropping on it, that was certain. So she could forget about specific matters briefly and continue enjoying a little chat with Rowan Berry, sightseeing the Iug’s ‘available’ sights.

Speaking of which, Twilight presented a thought to the healer. “Honestly, if I might be so bold – I think I would enjoy the outside of the Mountain a bit more than the interior. The Sunfalls have picked quite a unique place for their Family to settle, and I don’t think that one’s domain cares for appearing humble and unassuming.”

“Well, we could ask the Honored Count if you would be allowed to do some sightseeing nearby, though likely not tonight. I wouldn’t be against it, actually. I read about the local mineral springs, they have beneficial properties. Occasional drinking from the right fonts could potentially aid in digestion, can boost metabolism, and the like,” the healer told Twilight with a light grin. “Though I take it you are more interested in simply the sights, rather than the hidden medical benefits. Actually, I am happy to see that you are still in awe of our country’s diversity. You were taking in the geysers and the general landscape outside, I saw it in your eyes as we were flying in.”

“You know, I think Noctraliya made me enjoy mountains a bit more. I mean, I never minded them. Though, perhaps the thin air, but I think I’m getting better with it. Didn’t feel it much in the morning,” Twilight spoke, trying to keep her act together, but Rowan Berry’s gaze spoke volumes. “I’m fine now, really, as you can see I’m better with pacing my speech. Though… Yes, I’m glad we paused for a moment. Trotting around here is still making me feel more tired than I thought.”

“Acclimatization is a process, definitely, and I’ve also read on it. A few nights more on this altitude and you will be able to function much better, though… Not much I could help with when it comes to speeding it up, I’m afraid. Although if you were to feel faint or something, I do have things that could aid,” the other mare assured, tapping one of her trusty satchels.

“I appreciate the thought. But… what about a palette cleanser, perhaps?” Twilight asked half-seriously.

“Oh? And why would you require that, hwal…?” Rowan Berry’s voice trailed off and she shook her head.

“It’s alright, we’ll get there,” Twilight replied with a smirk, then addressed the question. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I think at this point I’m just missing some of my diet from home,” she admitted, smacking her lips. Yes, she had had a break from the usual, noctraliyan meals at the Mountain of Crescent, but she wasn’t keen on reliving those memories. “Your fruit has a wonderful quality to it. And how can it not, when I’ve seen the work put into the Valleys… but after tonight’s first meal, for example, I felt that I could go for something else. The aftertaste didn’t want to go away for a long time…”

“Those fruit were definitely ripe, and they tasted fine to me,” Rowan Berry assessed, and clearly did so with double the expertise on the matter. She pondered for a while. “Has it happened to you before? Or just lately?”

“N… no, I don’t think I recall this from before. I mean, this is a change from my usual diet… which is not always the most healthy, I confess,” Twilight admitted, knowing that grabbing a quick and cheap meal hadn’t been completely absent from her life, especially while she had been missing regular eating hours engrossed in her studies. “But I definitely would have paid attention to something like this before…”

The other mare nodded, clearly recording her answer in her memory with the intensity of a specialist. “I will keep that in mind. Please inform me of anything else that might be happening that you would find unusual. I mean…” She lowered her voice even further. “… you’ve tackled a Lesy. You lived to tell that tale, but you were found in the midst of the restored plantation, with no recollection of the event. Anything could be a clue, anything could be an adverse thing, these monsters’ influence might be still hanging upon you…”

“That is true, though…” Twilight felt like defending herself being that calm about the possibility, but recognized it wasn’t a stance to reasonably maintain. “No, you’re right, Rowan Berry, it’s better to be safe rather than sorry. I’m still concerned that all of this is so foggy in my head. Like it wants to be forgotten…”

“The way of those creatures,” the healer admitted shivering just a little, obviously at her own, terrifying memories of her close encounter with one of these beings. “There was a point in my life when those memories also felt like a bad, fevered dream. Or a filly’s too colorful of an imagination. It was like my own mind was just trying to push this away from itself, unable to fathom the… terrible possibilities.”

“That’s understandable, Rowan Berry,” Twilight told the mare, trying to sound as supportive as she could. Trauma of that sort was something to lessen if possible.

“It’s actually a known phenomenon,” the batpony remarked, reaching for her education. “At least, having endured it myself, I now grasp it a little better…”

“I’m not sure if my mind is doing this, or is it the Lesy’s fault, but I will let you know if anything else strange happens. Even if regarding only my sense of taste and enjoyment of the meals,” Twilight promised, much to the healer’s professional joy. “Well, at least one thing I am not worried about regarding this aftertaste is our hosts poisoning our meal… or am I being too trusting here, as well?” she asked, mindful of her volume, indeed.

“I rush to report that there were no additions I could detect. I, too, believe in the good intentions and lack of duplicity of the Rodine Soleeced, but I have my training and role in mind,” the other mare claimed, nodding thoughtfully. “A detectable aftertaste like such would indicate a sadly poor attempt, let me say…”

Twilight felt like it was a little surreal, conversing with an elite operative about the topic, but she had already seen stranger things in this land. And as long as they could breach it without gathering too much attention from the locals, she actually didn’t mind pursuing the matter. Perhaps… Perhaps it would help her a little, considering what she had endured lately. Her will had been pushed back by a vile concoction from the hooves of Ebony Crescent and… and demystify the nature of the craft would make her feel less guilty for falling for it…?

“Are you a critic and a perfectionist in this… particular regard, Rowan Berry?”

The healer looked at Twilight askance, then shrugged nearly imperceptibly. “Even considering my ‘regular’ role, it is only natural that I would be versed in matters toxic, poisonous, venomous... Not to mention that if I am to be an unsavory individual, I might as well be one of high standards,” she commented almost in a joke, though seriousness was leering from just behind it. “I’ve done a lot of despicable things in my life, I always thought that I might as well do them properly. Though I never felt like… entwining the two professions. If I am to help, I am helping. If I need to harm, then I shall harm. And a botched poisoning is something that I couldn’t allow to happen. Never did.”

“I suppose there is some small glory to gain in remaining a professional in such circumstances,” Twilight admitted, however grating to her own morality the core of the topic felt.

“I had a… tumultuous time in my life, yes, so I won’t claim that I was a paragon of professionalism while performing my sworn tasks,” the healer told her in a most honest whisper. “But I always hoped that I could act without hatred in my heart. Without prejudice and unnecessary emotions. What I am performing in service of my haspadre, I am to undertake aside of my personal feelings. I… never quite achieved that ideal, and look where it brought me,” the healer claimed, giving Twilight one more glance.

“I prefer you here, actually,” Twilight replied with a kind stare back. “I think you prefer yourself here, however difficult it was to make that trip. You had to endure many crises of conscience, I imagine.”

“You’re not wrong, I think on all of the accounts. And don’t think that my inner voice is silenced completely,” the operative admitted before herself and Twilight, looking somewhere askance. “Still, I am glad that I arrived when I did, because… well.”

Twilight read perfectly into that last word. If it hadn’t been for this reconciliation, this incredible turn coming from the mare next to her, things could have been much more complicated. Even more than Twilight could have ever imagined. And, having added everything together, she had some time ago arrived at the conclusion she didn’t mind presenting again now, though she had already challenged Rowan Berry with it and about it.

“Do tell me, please, satisfying my… well, let us call it morbid curiosity, since we’re already talking – how close were you to actually poisoning me with the extract? When you medicated me that one time?”

Rowan Berry’s gaze ventured around them, as if a pony could suddenly manifest to overhear right this sentence, but they were being cautious enough, especially with Midnight standing guard and successfully repelling any approaching ponies. Still, the mare looked most uneasy conversing about this particular matter like that, in the open.

Although she wasn’t going to rob Twilight of her answers. “Considering the… way I was emotionally compromised, there was a certain, brief temptation,” the mare admitted with no shortage of shame. “The line between medicating and poisoning is rather thin, thinner than most ponies believe. I had to take into consideration your unique physical traits, the effect I was going for, the possibility that you could have some form of a natural resistance that I would be unaware of due to the Divine Aspect… Let’s just say that I haven’t crossed a line, managing to remain professional. Still, I did give you a drop more than I would usually administer for a night of restful sleep. It affected you as I have foreseen... but I was monitoring your state cautiously.”

Twilight felt that terrible surge of emotions and pure fear coursing through her veins not unlike poison. To hear from a pony nearby just how close things were to having a terrible outcome was a unique experience. Understanding the threat, however, was often cleansing, more like actual medicine than a vile substance.

“That’s why I slept in so much that one time,” Twilight uttered and Rowan Berry nodded. “Well, at least it helped with the migraine. I barely recalled it the next night…”

“This concoction has genuine, beneficial properties, so I often don’t even consider it a poison. It can be harmful, of course, though drifting off in a warm feeling is not the worst way to go…” the healer admitted in a darkly poetic tone. “The effect on you was predictable and within known norms. Still, you’ve missed quite the formative moment for me,” she suddenly pointed out, and her stare landed on Midnight for a brief moment, though the stallion didn’t register it, dutifully standing guard.

Twilight took a second, though believed that she could figure what it had been about. “Now that I focus, I… believe I might have seen him before the potion claimed me? He grasped what happened, I suppose.”

“He arrived soon after you took the extract and… well, fury is a light word,” the healer claimed, trying not to look at Midnight anymore, expressing further shame. “We had been having scuffles before that, despite everything, but that time? For your sake he threatened my very well-being, and swore that—”

“That will be enough of that.”

Twilight could learn more, of course. Much more than she thought possible, gaining a further perspective on things, but that particular topic seemed more damaging to her at the moment than casually conversing about the art of poisoning. And so she didn’t need this right here and there. Her voiced protest was heard and acknowledged, of course, with the healer acquiescing without as much as an exhale of disagreement.

Still, this didn’t mean that Twilight didn’t want to continue conversing with the mare, despite the nerve which had been touched. “Though, I feel like I should tell you that these particular skills might not be required of you in Equestria, Rowan Berry. Our political scene is far less… toxic, for the lack of a better word.”

“As long as I would be able to practice my primary craft, you will hear no word of protest from me. Nor see a drop of unpleasant concoctions,” the healer told Twilight, having immediately shifted her focus. “Well, unless you count the flavor, because a lot of effective remedies do taste somewhat awful…”

“Don’t we all know that,” Twilight agreed, remembering the times when she had to ‘suffer’ for the sake of getting back to health. But the remark made her think about something specific. “Actually, let me ask – what do batponies know about the zebras? In general, because I imagine you might have been taught a bit more, Rowan Berry.”

“Well… first of all, I see that you call them the same way, pretty much,” the operative admitted with a smirk. “We know of their existence, though considering what I have learnt about the world beyond, I fear some of our books possess misconceptions. At least a portion of them mentioned them being an offshoot of the earth ponies, though I have strong doubts.”

“Yes, that is not the case, as they are a separate pony race,” Twilight gently corrected that concept. “But, as it happens, there is a zebra mare living just near Ponyville. Her name is Zecora, and she is the local expert when it comes to natural remedies and alchemical wonders. A lupule of our own. I think the two of you could get along well!”

“Ha, that’s interesting…” Rowan Berry admitted, quite intrigued by the idea. “I do admit that it is always riveting to meet somepony that grasps the nuances of natural remedies, those little gifts that grow right around us. And I can just imagine what sort of magnificent brews she can make out of the native plants of her land. I heard their environment is much different, which means that their flora might be most riveting to study.”

Twilight smiled at the genuine, if contained, excitement. “You seem much more eager to meet her than even we were when she came to live with us. There was… a touch of prejudice from Ponyville’s denizens, even my own friends.”

“Pardon, but you expected prejudice from us? Unthinkable,” Rowan Berry replied in a tone so cynical and ironic that Twilight simply couldn’t stop herself from a giggle, one that thankfully didn’t echo too much around.

Still, she almost immediately felt a gaze on her. She easily spotted that Midnight was giving her a glance of interest at her reaction. And it was a stare that felt, simultaneously, completely and abundantly neutral, but also expressing some ephemeral envy that no training nor willpower could stop.

Twilight restored her composure, recognizing that falling into blatant good humor, especially visibly, could cause unwanted attention in the Mountain. And, besides, feeling the stallion’s stare didn’t help any matters.

She addressed Rowan Berry again. “I think there is always the element of caution when meeting somepony different. Though how much different, actually?” she pointed the issue out, considering the pony races. “I still much prefer when we can look past who we are born as and instead focus on who we choose to be, utilizing our virtues and callings. There lies the value of a creature, pony or not,” Twilight mused aloud.

“I grasp that, I think. Still, some preconceptions remain, regardless of our attempts and quality of character,” the healer told her, having covertly looked about for onlookers. “I must confess that the abilities to ‘gaze beyond’, as our scriptures call it, are slightly concerning to me. Perhaps because I don’t understand them, or haven’t seen them utilized too much.” There was a pause that usually would mean leaving space for Twilight’s reply, but the other mare had a question, actually. “If you could, then, satisfy my curiosity… Twilight?”

The subtle look on the healer’s muzzle betrayed that the attempt was almost physically painful, but the effort was appreciated. “Ask away, Rowan Berry, please.”

“We’re talking pony races and the Lost Gifts, as we call them. So I have to ask – are the tales true about the kleynotani?”

Twilight recalled that word, Lord Blessed Fang had used it when he was talking about the Crystal Empire and the ‘fantastical’ stories of it, as he had called them. “The crystal ponies? What about them? You will have to be more specific, Rowan Berry.”

“Yes, yes, of course. What I meant to ask about was their look, and how they came to being. You say that zebri are not earth ponies, but… are kleynotani former ones?” the healer pressed the topic.

That was a most intriguing question from Twilight’s perspective, since she was quite certain that the crystal ponies were also a separate race of ponykind. “I would love to answer, but I think I would first prefer to hear even more about your side of this topic. You have legends regarding the crystal ponies? And the Crystal Empire?”

“Well… I’m no historian, but I was, indeed, educated on the matter of our closest neighbors due to my role, just like about the zebri,” Rowan Berry responded, again minding the volume and the conspiratorial look of the conversation. “And there are old stories, of course. From what it is said in some of our sources, referring to the nation bordering Ekwestriya to the north, they were once a tribe of earth ponies. When Bogine was searching for Her people, wishing to grant them Her guidance and Gifts, she presented to the earth ponies their power over earth and soil. But when she gifted the ponies gazing beyond the power to create,” the healer explained with just a touch of religious zeal, “there was a tribe of earth ponies that felt envy over this might, believing that they should have gained it in the first place. And so they decided that they would gain it for themselves, by any means necessary…”

Twilight was listening with great attention, because that fable seemed to be one of the many ones that were explaining to the batponies the nuanced world beyond their mountains. And were doing so in a way that was keeping them on the pedestal, above the imperfect races around, as one could imagine.

Rowan Berry continued to eagerly tell the tale in a whisper. “Their supplications and their attempts were not only more demanding as time went on, but became more dangerous. From what it is said, they were performing strange research, trying to tap into the abilities that should have never been theirs, though the nature of those elude me. I remember, however, the concepts of utilizing precious stones, attempts at storing powerful emotions in them, though some sources mentioned even the idea of capturing ponies’ souls,” the healer pointed out with just a hint of that tone of an excited teen telling a spooky story by a flashlight. Though that did not meant that she was treating it as a joke. “At some point their hubris grew so great that even the Judging Sun, who is more inclined to listen and protect those that live in her rays, took notice of this arrogance. And so, by divine will and command, some claim of both the Goddess and her sister in unison, were these earth ponies cursed. They would lose what power they had already possessed, and would not only be unable to ever access that unseen might of ‘magic’, but become vulnerable to its Gift altogether. Their coats would shine like jewels without worth, ever reminding them of their folly, and that of their crude experiments…”

Regardless of the melody of her voice and the way she was telling the tale, the healer wasn’t saying any of that for the sake of demeaning the crystal ponies, obviously, but to share their fable. Yet she still must have spotted the sour grimace fighting to appear on Twilight’s lips, for Rowan Berry’s next words were much meeker.

“So… that is how they became kleynotani, as we are told. And that is why, ultimately, their Empire was also cursed to disappear, until humility could finally enter their hearts.”

“Let me then tell you, Rowan Berry, that this is not what happened to them,” Twilight almost immediately replied. Her tone was calm, but her intention was sharp as a blade. “The crystal ponies are not some cursed kin of ours, but a good-hearted and ancient nation that suffered a terrible fate due to one pony’s vile ambition.”

The healer looked almost chastised, so Twilight took a breather and motioned gently to calm her down. She wasn’t upset at Rowan Berry for sharing the insight, even if it was an unpleasant story to hear.

“You know, I would scold anypony weaving such misconceptions and tall tales. But there is a good reason not to do so from where I am sitting,” Twilight admitted, shrugging a little. “And it is rather simple – even we have forged impossible legends, especially one regarding you. This is simply what happens when we are divided and isolated for so long, and when we let our worries, fears and sometimes prejudice run rampant.”

The healer nodded, accepting that stance, though something of a smirk passed through her muzzle. “I understand. Do, however, let me reveal, that I don’t mind being portrayed as a fabled threat that comes at the dead of night, mysterious and alluring,” the mare told Twilight, almost giggling at the premise she was mentioning. “To think we would leave such a lasting impression on ponies under the Judging Sun…”

There was something undeniably serious underneath that apparently silly sentence. And Twilight didn’t have to think for long to grasp that Rowan Berry certainly hadn’t forgotten the tragedy of the Holy War, just like all of her brethren had not. And that it was giving her a measure of satisfaction that this legend reached such a level, presenting the batponies as a nocturnal threat and an enticing mystery alike.

But the next sentence from the healer sounded much less grim and actually more… embarrassed. “Still, I see your point and, well, you could have skipped the part about drinking ver, I think. Of all the things to remember about us…?”

“That is… kind of the essence of the myth how we see it,” Twilight admitted, recalling the interviews in vivid details.

She really, really didn’t want her eyes to be so undisciplined, but they nonetheless ventured in Midnight Wind’s direction. He had been the first ‘vampire’ that she had met. She had hosted the legend at her very home and, like many before, had fallen for its fabled guile and charm, to her folly.

“The said blood is necessary for you, as a form of sustenance,” she mumbled, having oh so many things in mind as those words left her lips.

She realized that she had done so as she looked at Rowan Berry and spotted that the mare felt at least a little uncomfortable touching upon that particular aspect of the legend. And it was that one, very specific sort of unease.

“There… are things that are natural among ponies. And then… then there are things that are more, uhm… intense. That still does not equal ‘sustenance’, even if we all have needs…” the healer muttered, hissing a little at the end.

Twilight, herself, felt her muzzle growing a bit hotter at the premise she had invoked without the desire to do so. And concerning the ‘red desire’, nonetheless. She felt like biting her tongue at least a little bit, because it was such a shame that she really didn’t feel like returning to certain memories there and then.

Perhaps for the better. Because as she looked up, trying to avoid glancing at Midnight again, she spotted that there was another batpony clearly heading her way, moving gracefully through the marketplace. By the looks of it he was one of the palace staff, looking for her in dutiful hurry.

Midnight spotted him at about the same time, so their group had every opportunity to get ready to receive news. Or summons, because it was hard to tell what it was going to be just by the pony’s expression.

Before the messenger came close enough, though, Twilight turned to Rowan Berry. “Thank you for this conversation. I think I needed a breath of… relative normalcy.”

“Are you sure that is what the likes of me provide?” the healer whispered back, trying to hide a small smile.

Unfortunately, this wasn’t the time for levity, especially as the courtier approached and gave a sufficiently humble bow before Twilight.

“Hwalba knaze, hwalbu hrabiy Soleceed Decret wishes to convey to you, that he expresses his deepest apologies for not being able to tend to you, as a visitor to our Iug,” the stallion spoke with a thick accent, but maintaining a neutral expression and tone. And showing that he was most likely a trusted courtier, considering the information he was sharing. “Moreover, he wishes to inform that, considering the state of our hwalbu haspadr, Slov u Rodine Soleceed, he shall be remaining by his side throughout the day.”

There was a pregnant pause which spoke to Twilight with its most concerning volume. “I understand, of course. I assure that I am not feeling insulted or unattended to, and I will be available at the Honored Count’s convenience. Please, do convey that my thoughts and my prayers are with him and his father, the Honored Lord.”

“Tac, hwalba knaze,” the servant accepted and memorized those words, bowing again and immediately trotting away to pass them on, leaving Twilight for a moment longer with her entourage.

Which had also had no issues with reading into the message’s tone.

“Kirwe,” Midnight swore under his breath. “So the haspadr is going to die today… or he’s going to suddenly begin recovering. I think those are the only options here, if the hrabiy is staying by his side.”

Rowan Berry had arrived at the same conclusion. “I expect so, yes,” she admitted with a frown. “I wonder how many ponies will be holding vigil throughout this particular day. It seems like it is the right time to do so…”

Twilight took a deep breath, exhaling soon after, with the weight of the situation squarely on her mind as well. “What we can definitely show in these circumstances, I think, is support and understanding. If that can be undertaken through participating in something organized, then I am not against it,” she admitted, looking at the two batponies. “And if the worst comes to pass, then… we shall see.”

“Yes,” Midnight admitted, looking to the side. “We might see something organized in the herame, I doubt the antasi will sit idly, even if this is supposed to be kept… contained. They might actually just call for a prayer throughout the neighborhoods, the few of them that shall be informed of the gravity of the moment.”

“If there is one Iug where ponies would not ask for more justification for such an action… I suppose it is here,” Rowan Berry deemed, looking around symbolically. “There is definitely something to this deep trust in the Bogine, which makes it unnecessary to ask ‘why’…”

Midnight glanced at the healer, then at Twilight, and spoke up in a whisper. “Though, perhaps… I don’t know, maybe this time we could ask for help from two sources, actually.”

Rowan Berry gave him a strange glance, one that betrayed that she had little to no idea what he was referencing. Twilight, however, did, though she replied to that suggestion in a very, very quiet tone. Especially since there were now a couple of more stares at them, considering that a courtier had just passed by.

“Are you keen on supplicating both the Immaculate Moon… and the Judging Sun?”

The healer looked like somepony had just slapped her across the muzzle, so great was her surprise at the suggestion. She kept looking at Midnight in a way that would soon attract even more attention, Twilight thought.

“We can talk on the way to the palace… or the shrine,” she immediately suggested, and it was an idea quickly followed, regardless of anypony’s state or opinion.

However, as soon as Rowan Berry felt that it was safer to speak up, away from too many ponies and gazes, she did so. “I… must have misheard something… and I am only saying that because I know I did not. I’ll ask anyway – what would these words even mean?”

Her question seemed to be aimed more at Twilight than Midnight, but the stallion was the one to respond to it. “Calm down, Yazembe Acine, no need for acting shocked and suspicious. I just thought that, considering the situation, it might not be the worst of ideas to pray with the intention of… expanding the circle of recipients.”

His calm and calming tone didn’t sit particularly well with the healer, however. “You… you really mean that? And you have in mind…? But that’s…?” she was asking a lot of question simultaneously, with her own mind granting her the, clearly quite disturbing for her, answers. “These are difficult circumstances for the Iug, and for the hwalba knazeu mission, but…! No aksiosan would ever suggest something like that!” she expressed her protest, trying not to look like she was doing so.

“Well, I am not one. And surely they actually would, if they only took the time and effort to learn about Twilight Sparkle,” was the stallion’s reply.

One that Twilight felt that she should have been upset at, due to very specific reasons, but one that she accepted as the warrior speaking his mind, plain and simple. Not for a moment did Midnight even look at her, instead keen on keeping his eyes forward. He wasn’t even using a volume that would indicate he wanted Twilight to clearly hear his words.

He… was saying what he believed in right now. And, all in all, it was a promising sign after all of this cursed secret-keeping. At least, Twilight was satisfied with it, never mind his praise.

Rowan Berry had far more qualms about what was happening. “But… What you are suggesting, it is… I’m not sure how to call it… Whatever – what would that even do? I mean, Sewira Solee, she is the stern judge, not one to listen to—”

“Rowan Berry,” Midnight’s tone would brook no argument, to the point that it silenced the healer in an instant yet again. “You have a disciple, a student of the merciless goddess right next to you. What kind of pony is she? What lessons have you heard coming from her mouth? Were you burned by her presence and wisdom, or illuminated and enlightened?”

Even Twilight was taken aback by the strength of those questions, and the other mare was left dumbfounded long enough for Midnight to hammer his point home.

“If we have heard nothing else from Twilight Sparkle than the message of hope, of renewal, of friendship, if we have heard nothing but support for our virtues and just judgment for our vices, if we heard encouragement down the path of making ourselves and our country better, and she is a representative of the Judging Sun…” The stallion’s declaration was cut silent only because they were going past a place that had a couple more ponies. But he finished his thought as soon as it was safe again, and it lost nothing of its power. “… then perhaps we should stop and think whether we were not wrong, once again. Perhaps we look, or rather not, upon Sign of the Judging Sun, because it burns our eyes and keeps us under the ground, and witness an adversary… but that does not mean that it is one. That she is one. Enough times it was now shown to me that just because we, noctrali, the beloved children of Neskaza Lunee… believe in something, it does not mean that it is true and real.”

At this point Twilight didn’t know what exactly she felt, but one thing was for certain – she really wanted to hear out Midnight’s argument to its end. And it involved her, once again.

“I saw the Sign of the Judging Sun, Rowan Berry, by Twilight Sparkle’s will,” the warrior confessed, pointing at his eyes. “And I’m still here. With my eyesight. With the memory, burned into my mind, of the world bathed in golden rays that weren’t searing, but empowering. A light that brought before me colors like I have never imagined them, full and beautiful. Yes, it was only thanks to the might of magic that I wasn’t hurt and blinded… but the blindness I have invoked upon myself through my beliefs and choices was much worse. I have made myself blind to many things, for a long time, out of pride and misguided honor. Now, I was shown that there is a different path. It was illuminated before me.

“And if the beloved student of the fierce goddess shows such dedication to making the world better, then perhaps it is time to consider that we have misjudged the Judging Sun.”

Twilight found herself baffled. Not because she was disagreeing, no. Rather because she would normally consider this an attempt from Midnight to curry her favor, yet it was nothing of the sort. There wasn’t a glance her way, there wasn’t one note in the stallion’s voice that would suggest a different intention than revealing his thinking. He had already told her that he had been considering praising both the Goddess and her sister, but it was one thing to express that in an intimate setting and another to actually admit it before somepony else. And a pony that one shared such a convoluted history with.

And none of what Midnight had just said was aimed at deceit or anything of the sort. Twilight had already learnt the voice that the warrior had been using when he was trying to convey something in secret or had an agenda. This was honesty, and it was that sort of honesty which seemed to be aimed at… nothing but itself. At best and worst – backing the suggestion of praying about Lord Sunfall Word’s health to both divine beings, but nothing else. No plan, no intrigue, no scheme.

No more to be said.

Rowan Berry still wanted to respond to the stallion’s strong words, however, though her stance was noticeably shaky at this point. “M-Maednoc Wentr, what are you suggesting? And… and what about the history of the Cruziate? The pain and—”

“We believe implicitly that we know its whole story, as we often do. Our ancestors, those who fought, told this fable to their foals, and they did so to theirs. The very Judging Sun came down, signed the very tale with her hoof – but think, would she do so if she were in the right? We call her stern and unmoving, fierce and expecting. If we are right, why would she move for us? If she truly would send her faithful, glistening with gold, against us, why would she relent? Does a failure faze a deity, is it even a possible outcome? And how much do you know about the Testimony?” he asked of the healer, his upper lip quivering a little. “I do know one who does, she read it. And she declared that we shall be justly repaid. Not once mentioning that the Judging Sun would object to it, not once trying to defend the goddess, explain her actions. Twilight Sparkle would be inclined to speak up, to protect her great, fiery teacher. So, obviously, it wasn’t her doing, her design behind Radiant Glory, curse his name. Maybe there was just a pony who was at fault, instead, as oh often happens. Ponies do enjoy to hide behind lofty ideas and higher callings, hide behind words and wills of their divine patrons. But their actions are their fault.”

There was a pause, but only a slight one, as Midnight Wind was delivering this moving oratory in but a whisper. It didn’t mean that it was less powerful, definitely not.

“Or, perhaps, we deserved to be punished with the Cruziate? Maybe there were those responsible on our end, after all. But who are we going to show as an example for when we are wrong? Those that we mutilate? They are meant not to exist, not to be… us. But it is still us… Only us.”

There was such grim determination in Midnight’s tone that the healer could bear to ask no more questions of him. She just kept looking down and away, likely finding a rather incredible dilemma in herself due to the stallion’s words. And it wasn’t hard to understand where it was coming from. She, herself, had found an incredible change in her, facing her faults and shortcomings, and misconceptions.

And it was because of Twilight, the student of the Judging Sun, Princess Celestia. Not that Twilight herself felt that she had done such a great deed, simply doing what she believed was right.

Like that, in the silence after those poignant sentences, a decision was made. Even without anypony wording it precisely. Whether there would be a more or less official call for it, Twilight and her entourage would venture to the shrine, to partake in a vigil for the sake of the Honored Lord’s health, at least for a couple of hours. And she had a distinct feeling that, while she would find herself again considering whether she was actually conversing with a Goddess or not, there would be at least one pony near her that would send his supplication to two deities.

And, who knew? It felt like it was exactly that which was required to make this whole quest work out in the end. Those of night and those of day, working together.

It was a long night for Luna, though thankfully it was finally coming to an end. She had just finished one last assignment. A long and tiring one. And, with the morning light almost upon Equestria, she just needed to get ready for bed, hopefully finding respite in the daily rest before yet more work was there to be done.

She was just waiting for a report to be finished. As it happened, asking for a sudden audience in the very early morning had a certain rhythm to it, a specific way it had to be undertaken. Luna wasn’t, as it was often said, a morning pony, unlike her sister. But even Celestia, when she had such a sudden call at that hour, and despite her natural predisposition to rise and shine, always relied on a trusted pony to be there for her, to listen in on the conversation alongside her, just in case the waking mind would miss some crucial details.

And so it was Raven that Luna was actually waiting for, as the dutiful Advisor to her sister was dotting down the last few points made by both the diarchs, in the antechamber of the Royal Parlour. Celestia requested a retelling of the meeting, so she could pontificate upon it a bit more after allowing herself an hour or so more sleep. Which was rather understandable, Luna admitted, hoping that she would be able to find this sort of respite for herself. And for a bit longer than but an hour.

“Nearly done, Your Lunar Majesty,” Raven, known for her meticulous approach, spoke up, dabbing the quill in ink with the precision of her talent and calling. And showing remarkable endurance herself, having been woken up at such an hour and yet remaining lucid and vigilant without a fault.

“I’m… quite amazed that you can write down a coherent report so early in the morning, Advisor,” Luna praised the mare, herself feeling that growing weight of tiredness on her mind.

“Oh, Your Lunar Majesty, it’s really not something that amazing,” the mare replied, not stopping even for a moment and diligently continuing her assigned work. “I have years of experience in dealing in the sudden and the necessary. And I genuinely find myself in this role, which helps immensely in finding the right amount of strength.”

“Yes, but it is one thing to follow my sister throughout the day and another to scramble from one’s bed in a record time to be an additional pair of ears to an important conversation. And one before the break of dawn,” Luna commented, approaching the window of the antechamber and looking towards the horizon which would soon witness the bright sunlight. “We might be one of the very few lit-up windows in Canterlot currently.”

That was Luna’s genuine comment, though that little glance from Raven couldn’t be missed even by her tiring eyes.

Still, the Advisor’s response was elegant and without revealing what was truly on her mind. “I suppose we could find ponies already awake and getting ready for their jobs, which is also a commendable feat. Though, sometimes this sort of exclusivity is preferable, Your Lunar Majesty,” she added, her eyes diligently following her own quill. “Yes, it is within your prerogative to deal with the clandestine matters, outside of a regular pony’s sight, but too much attention regarding any activity of the court can be detrimental. I, too, prefer to work in calmness and without unnecessary onlookers…”

“I suppose you mean the curse of the media, mainly?” Luna guessed, having dealt with this ever-vigilant eye herself, especially lately, though her bet was only partially correct.

“The media are ravenous beasts, yes. But, as it happens, the Royal Castle is on a rather elevated position both physically and from a political standpoint. So there are many, curious onlookers. Like the regular ‘everypony’, being naturally interested in the workings and actions of the government, that sort of thing,” Raven answered, expanding upon the matter in the official capacity. “There is this common misconception, even among some courtiers, that things coming out of the Palace, the edicts and laws, are self-evident, clear and transparent. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. We spend hours upon hours in preparation for questions and petitions, just on the ‘off-chance’ that somepony decides to inquire why a certain regulation seem to work against them personally.”

There was this certain irritation in the mare’s voice that Luna picked up and decided to comment on, with a touch of humor. “I know my sister well enough to know that she isn’t too keen on censuring individual ponies.”

Raven smirked a little as she continued writing. “And yet there are those among our countryponies that believe that particular laws are aimed right at them. As if even I, myself, am sitting here with some sort of a weapon pointed directly at them. And just so eager to release the arrow when it most inconveniences a pony,” the mare commented with a little bit of her own, hesitant humor. “As I have said, Your Lunar Majesty, I have a lot of experience in attending, explaining, simplifying matters… and at the same time, a honed ability to be ready at any time. So, don’t worry, Your Majesty, I am more than comfortable attending to this matter, even at this hour.”

Usually Luna would be expecting just that little bit of ridicule from a sentence like that, knowing Moonwarden and his ways, but Raven was either hiding her feelings extremely well or simply meant her words.

At the thought of her own Advisor, Luna’s face must have fallen a little bit, since the mare decided to allow herself a comment.

“It must have been quite the situation tonight, if I might point it out, Your Luna Majesty – the very assassin creeping right outside the window and then… ‘landing’ inside, very much without choice. I presume Moonwarden must have been quite shocked about this development.”

Luna wasn’t blind and deaf to the little rivalry that her personal assistant and Tia’s own aide had, so she turned back to Raven with a little smile. “He was, briefly, for he found his tongue quickly in the aftermath. I presume you would have liked to witness his expression?”

Raven realized that perhaps she had allowed herself too much freedom with her comment, but quickly deduced that Luna hadn’t taken offence and was just making small talk. “I would cherish the opportunity just a touch,” the mare admitted with honesty, never stopping herself from writing. “Not that I am merry about what happened to your Advisor, Your Lunar Majesty, it is an atrocious situation all over. But the sheer shock… It is not often that one can see Moonwarden losing his composure. I would count it as a pleasant memory to hold onto.”

“Speaking of which, would you mind humoring me a little, Advisor Raven?” Luna asked, making sure it didn’t sound too much like a flippant request.

“Oh? How might I do that, Your Lunar Majesty?” she inquired, still maintaining the necessary tempo and, apparently, not missing a single word or making a mistake or an inkblot, despite shifting her attention to Luna.

“I always wondered about the nature of your rivalry with Moonwarden. It is a well-known fact, yes, but… I never asked him about it, truth be told, so perhaps you could offer me some insight now?” Luna inquired, most intrigued whether Raven would actually answer.

She planned to, obviously, though it took her a moment as she went through another paragraph or so. Maybe gathering her thoughts or maybe making doubly sure she was transcribing the notes she had taken through the meeting to their utmost accuracy.

“Well… Your Lunar Majesty, I think you could first tell me something, if it pleases,” the mare began with a shift in the exchange.

“Yes? And what would that be?”

“Why do you think I am rivals with Advisor Moonwarden?” Raven asked, looking up from her work with a rather potent stare, which carried depth and gravity that weren’t keen on hiding.

Luna had given this question a brief thought before, yes, but she doubted her reasoning was that accurate. There was no shame in attempting a guess, though. “I definitely sense a certain difference in character between you two. We all know that Moonwarden holds to a specific creed that he is not shy about sharing, and I am also aware that you are very much a traditionalist when it comes to the tenets of Equestrian philosophy,” she mused aloud.

It was more than enough to get a response from the mare. “I am honored you would recognize that about me, Your Lunar Majesty. However, I would claim that personality dissonance is but the tip of a gray, cynical iceberg.”

Raven did confess that, putting down one more sentence before finally letting the quill rest. Maybe she was done, or maybe she just didn’t want her mental state to affect her work at this point. For it was obvious that she was holding rather strong opinions on the matter, if that pensiveness about her was an indication. She even pursed her lips briefly before saying anything.

“Your Lunar Majesty, I have spent years in the service of the Palace, and our whole country. I have managed to complete administrative studies, I am a post-graduate in foreign and internal affairs, and I have extensive, specialist background, up to dealing with matters of public procurement,” Raven listed, without falling into unjustified pride even briefly, and through doing so already showing a stark difference from the gray unicorn. “I have worked my way up the greasy pole of the Castle, because even in the service of Her Solar Majesty there are obstacles and challenges aplenty in that regard. And I finally made my way to where I am, to where I believe I can make a real difference, at Her Majesty’s side. I am honored to help her from the perspective of a common pony, one without heritage, without background, without protection or anything of the sort. A pony that worked her way to one of the very top positions one can imagine in Equestria, right by the diarch’s ear…

“And then Moonwarden comes out of the blue, does a daring stunt… and lands where he is to this day, right opposite me.”

Luna was taken aback by those words quite a bit. Yet, despite how they might have sounded to anypony caring to eavesdrop, there was very little anger coming from Raven.

Still, it felt prudent to ask. “So, you disapprove of him becoming my Advisor?” Luna inquired, but the mare opposite shook her head, having stood up in reverence as they were now speaking more directly.

“Well… first of all, Your Lunar Majesty, I definitely had and still have some reservations, yes. If I can allow myself this honesty…”

“I will have nothing less than it,” Luna spoke up, which was met with Raven’s actual approval and appreciation.

“Thank you, Your Lunar Majesty. The thing is… and I say that as it is yet another misconception that specifically the courtiers hang onto – I do not begrudge him making this rapid advance. The situation was, as I think anypony would agree, unique, and the formation of your personal governmental and administrative division was a complex affair,” Raven explained and Luna would have to agree with that assessment. “I consider myself, however, weary of whether that promotion did not make him remain… untested.”

“Speak more on this,” Luna encouraged the mare, inviting her to come closer, from behind the desk, so that there would be less distance and less obstacles in sharing such observations.

Raven did so, with the grace and humility of a personal aide and a trusted confidant of no less value than the gray stallion. “Your Lunar Majesty, I will speak of myself, but solely to create the comparison. I have climbed my way to the top of this imaginary, yet very real, tower. I felt every step, took every ragged breath, passed by every floor and learnt its individual burdens, growing to understand the intricacies of this meticulous construction. Moonwarden… well, he broke through the top flight window, if you will allow me the metaphor…”

“It is less of a metaphor than you think, Advisor Raven,” Luna did admit, returning to the time when she had found an interloper right in her chambers, in a deferential stance. And she barely stopped herself from a blush, since now she knew of an additional layer of motivation which had prompted the unicorn to act so directly.

“I am privy to that tale, yes,” Raven’s response and a small, sour chuckle brought Luna back to the present. “An intelligence officer and operative of a… particular set of skills, suddenly deciding to sneak into the personal quarters of a recently returned alicorn Princess. And instead of being scrutinized, incarcerated and censured for it… he suddenly becomes a Royal Advisor.”

Luna pondered whether she was receiving a life lesson from the mare opposite, as her decision was being presented as most unreasonable, but… simplifying this conversation like so was on her. Raven was more keen on drawing the bigger picture, instead. Perhaps believing, like the Advisor she was, that this was exactly what Luna required.

“I won’t lie, I was surprised by this turn of events. I wasn’t alone in this shock, as well. I was even more astonished about the fact that, for all of his pride, and a vaunting one if that would not be a tautology, Moonwarden proficiently and remarkably quickly found himself in all of his new obligations. In his ‘self-comfortable’ way, unfortunately, if I could be excused the term,” the mare pointed out, her gaze escaping to the nearby bookshelf, filled to the brim with codices, treaties and acts, to the point of near-spilling. “For I quickly realized that while I saw and see a system to maintain and refine, he beholds a conspiracy.”

Luna blinked at the chosen expression. “I presume… not in the sense of an actual intrigue, Advisor?”

“Oh no, Your Lunar Majesty, definitely not. I would know, I have enough maddened petitioners claiming schemes woven on every level of administration just to get them, personally,” Raven remarked with a shudder that she couldn’t hide. “But Moonwarden’s no madpony. And not a natural official, either. He’s a natural schemer. To call him a mover and a shaker would be making him sound too overt in his approach…”

Luna felt a shiver going down her spine. The memory of the strange conversation right in the unicorn’s dark psyche was alive and very, very clear in her mind. And the natural presumption she made right now was that Raven was going to start naming ponies that she believed Moonwarden had gotten his strings into. Just like it had been the case with those terrifying phantoms, those puppets mindlessly trudging around the webbed library of his mind.

“Initially, I considered his meets and greets with the Royal Palace officials to be a form of scouting ahead, as he had found himself in an elevated position without support,” Raven pointed out, each word making Luna more nervous, though she did her best to contain it. “Then I realized what he was actually doing. He didn’t need a faction to form behind him. No, for he saw the Palace as a design. A mechanism to examine, to learn, and to weave himself through. With the goal to either reinforce it or dismantle, depending on the need. It is an operative’s approach, especially one who had a very specific role in matters clandestine. In my eyes, he never became a professional courtier, but rather did his best to morph the court into something he felt comfortable in.”

“Weaving a web, to sit in the middle of…” Luna muttered to herself.

Aloud, as she found out from Raven’s reply. “Indeed, Your Lunar Majesty. I’m not that fond of spiders,” the mare admitted, her eyes boring into Luna, squarely judging her reactions, “and now I had one right nearby. He approached me as well, of course, but that was after I had already figured out that he wouldn’t invite me over to his office just to serve me some fine, Trottinghamian tea. He was testing me, assessing me, as a pony on par with his position. I passed his test, actually.”

“… how? What was he… testing?” Luna asked, most nervous about the answer.

Although she immediately reminded herself that it was most unlikely, even impossible, for Moonwarden to decide to just do something so risky as a part of this challenge, reaching for his abilities. Surely Raven wouldn’t have stayed silent about him partaking in mentalism… unless she couldn’t remember it.

But that was just paranoid thinking, Luna deemed, trying to focus on the answer instead.

“Moonwarden wanted to see whether I was a potential rival, a threat, an ally or somepony else entirely in his grand game. I called him out on it. In polite words. Then… the less polite kind,” Raven admitted, smirking at the memory, though she restored her serious composure a moment later. “I told him that this isn’t an assignment he had received to infiltrate the Palace, and that I find this… drive of his to spread about the place like a sick growth most worrying, even appalling. And that I expect a pony at his position to act like an Advisor and not an infiltrator,” she stated, clearly reaching for the same stern motivation that she had used that particular day. “Honestly, I realize that none of us had known better at the time, but I would have accused him of being a changeling there and then otherwise.”

Luna exhaled, at least inwardly. It looked like it was a tense conversation, but without anything that she would need to be worried about. Perhaps her gray aide’s plans and intrigues which she had seen woven in his mind were a little bit more theoretical than directly enforced through the might of his mentalism craft. Though these sort of thoughts were only proving to Luna that she needed to settle this matter with the unicorn sooner rather than later.

And that she should have done so a long time ago already. At least now she had the might and drive to do so.

Speaking of the perpetrator, Luna once again inquired of the mare opposite, curious to learn what transpired after such a confrontation. “Prithee, what did Moonwarden do? Knowing him, he wasn’t too pleased about somepony calling him out like so.”

Raven made a face. One of disbelief, actually. It wasn’t clear why for a short while, though her words explained a lot. “Actually, he was… rather impressed. Yes, it surprised me too. He claimed that it was refreshing that I stood up, spoke firmly and challenged him like so. And he foresaw a ‘nice rivalry that would keep both of us sharp’, I believe his words were. Of course, as is his want, he showed no remorse about his attempts at creating a network of contacts and assets within the Castle. And I am still here, reminding him of his overblown ego and lack of work ethic ever since.”

Luna nodded, accepting those words and understanding where they were coming from. They were giving her a wider perspective on things. It was quite surprising that she hadn’t thought about conversing with the mare like so before. Instead just accepting a ‘workplace rivalry’ explanation regarding the two Advisors.

It had been easy enough to believe, so she had done so. Thinking more about the issue had felt… excruciating. Sometimes it had been like that with everything more than the bare minimum. The burden of her affliction.

“Tell me, Advisor Raven, do you think that he’s ultimately a bad choice for his office, with his approach?”

“I certainly wouldn’t have made it,” the mare spoke up outright, though contained her tone with utmost proficiency, not to sound haughty and reaching above her station. “I would never allow myself to criticize your choices, Your Lunar Majesty,” she added, as if reading Luna’s mind herself, “but the thing is – I am most certain at this point that he is a useful pony, and of many talents, some more desirable than others. He’s just… He’s not a role-model for personal aides anywhere, I’d say. He acts like he has something to prove before somepony. Likely you, Your Majesty,” Raven stated the near-obvious and was quite aware that she did so. “I worried at some point that it is a blatant attempt at currying favor, but… that’s not it. For whatever reason he picked you as his ‘supervisor’ and now he’s acting with your interest in mind, in ways that we might approve of or not. But he’s still an operative at heart, and then, beyond the Palace’s walls, he still continues his misguided quest…”

Luna omitted that last remark for the moment. Mostly because she knew all too well the ‘whatever reason’ that Raven had mentioned. She would dare claim that it was the whole point of Moonwarden’s performance.

She nodded again, trotting away from Raven and back towards the window, through which sunlight would be soon streaming. She looked out into Canterlot, and though it would be impossible to spot the hospital from here, she imagined herself looking right in that direction. She just couldn’t help it.

“Acting for me… Yes, that he is doing,” she finally spoke, as if admitting it before herself and the world entire. “That’s a very interesting perspective you have shown me, Advisor Raven, and I am grateful for it. With a little caveat, if possible, for I wouldn’t say that Moonwarden lacks skills when it comes to running things from an administrative standpoint.”

“No, of course not,” Raven immediately replied, keen on dispelling any misunderstandings. “But what he sees is not necessarily a country to preserve and govern, as I said, but a system to maintain… and exploit both. Which I find quite ironic. I presume that he would present himself as a conservative and traditionalist stallion, but his approach is quite, shall I say, subversive. Revolutionary.”

Luna smirked knowing to herself. “Trust me, Advisor Raven, in some matters he is definitely adherent to tradition, hierarchy and good courtesy,” she pointed out. Perhaps a little absent-mindedly.

There was a pause, a quite significant one. It lasted long enough for Luna to realize it was actually happening, and when she turned around to face Raven, the mare was giving her a quite curious look. One that she didn’t manage to hide quick enough before Luna’s eyes caught onto it.

“You wished to say something more, Advisor Raven?” came the inquiry, met with the official’s instinctive denial.

“No… However, I think I should.” There was a specific tone to the mare’s voice, and Luna soon learnt what it was. “I must say that, for all of Advisor Moonwarden’s vices, and there are many, even more than I am chastising him about on a regular basis, he does possess a strong sense of loyalty to you, Your Lunar Majesty. That is praiseworthy. And, as those last nights have proven, you favor him a great deal, as well,” the mare stated, hitting that perfect balance between respect for Luna’s station and sharing her honest observations. She wasn’t daring nor was she holding back. “I hope, for Moonwarden’s sake, that he realizes that he found perhaps the one ruler in history that has the necessary qualities to deal with his nonsense…”

Luna had to fight a laugh that threatened to bubble up from her throat at the tone Raven had just used. But she understood the sentiment.

“I believe he is very much aware of that. Even while confined to the hospital bed he has a tendency to ask about the state of Equestria, and whether I would need advice or help,” Luna admitted, omitting the part about both of them sharing feelings for each other.

“Equestria… or Equestrians?” Raven asked, clearly making a point.

“The country. Or ‘the system’, if you wish,” Luna responded with a small smile of recognition.

“As I have said,” the Advisor pointed out, masterfully avoiding sounding proud. “Without being unkind, I am definitely glad about Moonwarden’s forced leave. In the name of the land’s denizens, Your Lunar Majesty. Especially young mares…”

Luna blinked, as she wasn’t expecting this sort of harsh melody in Raven’s voice. “Care to elaborate?”

“… must I?” the other mare replied with a question, as if surprised Luna would even ask that question.

“I am aware of Moonwarden’s exploits and specific sort of notoriety among the populace. Though I haven’t been informed of anything that would indicate that he is being… unsavory in the matter, even if a touch promiscuous,” Luna explained.

It caused a reaction from herself, actually, though she hadn’t been expecting it. Was it… Was it envy? Irritation over the fact? Peculiar, as she considered herself quite tolerant in this regard, if she herself held a more conservative approach, some might have said ‘demure’. But as the Lady of the Night she was more than aware of what ponies oft did in said nighttime, and there was nothing unnatural or repulsive about it, unless it involved being unfaithful, for example.

The other side of Luna’s reaction was, however, fearful. For she out of a sudden put Moonwarden’s actions through a certain, argent and forceful perspective. And it was despite the fact that in the very confines of his mind he had revealed before her that he had never stooped so low, and was not planning on ever doing so.

Thankfully, though perhaps unaware of this sudden trepidation, Raven came to Luna’s aid. “True enough, during one of our disputes he was most adamant about denying utilizing his power. And, if I can believe anything about him, I believe that. He has some code of conduct, even if opportunistic and self-imposed,” the mare spoke, relief mixed with critique in her voice. “Not to mention that he wouldn’t be taking unnecessary risks too often, I don’t think. His abilities, while definitely potent, are not infallible. Like in the batpony case.”

Luna’s body had first relaxed at the shared information… and then froze in place when the final sentence happened.

Raven spotted that she caused such an effect. That, despite her incredible conduct, she had made a crucial mistake without having anticipated it. It became that much more evident when she opened her mouth to utter.

“… he hasn’t told you, Your Lunar Majesty.”

“That he actually tried mentalism’s tricks on my children? No, he omitted that, as it appears,” Luna remarked in a tone that was frigid enough to make even Raven shudder briefly.

Yes, she had given him permission. Yes, she had told him that he could use whatever technique that he would find reasonable in the Eastern Woods. But she had also told him that her children were important to her.

Was she to regret this choice so deeply? Had she been so shortsighted regarding Moonwarden and his web weaving, his schemes and his traps?

Raven’s voice reached Luna. “Your Lunar Majesty, to make it clear and accurate – he mentioned to me that he had just tried to ascertain himself of the possibility of utilizing mentalism. Just on the surface level, without any direct and invasive techniques!” the Advisor tried to immediately explain, ironically eager to help her gray rival’s case outright. “When his probing didn’t work, he decided against doing anything more, for you forbade him to! He told me all of that himself, I swear it!”

Luna was… glad. At least as glad as she could currently be about the topic, with the weight of judgment hanging upon her head, as well as Moonwarden’s. The difference was in serving justice or being served it.

She lifted her hoof to stop Raven from continuing, as it was unnecessary. “It’s fine, Advisor Raven,” she assured, controlling her voice. “I suppose in the midst of this hectic situation certain matters were left… unaddressed. And I believe some ponies do thrive more when the world around is left distracted,” she admitted, trying her best not to sound wistful. “Thank you, however, for ‘humoring’ me, Advisor Raven. I believe you have succeeded quite proficiently, despite this matter we touched upon. I am genuinely grateful,” Luna declared, remembering that she had been the one to initiate such conversation and there was no reason to begrudge the mare for it.

“I… I aim to please, Your Lunar Majesty,” Raven responded with an elegant bow which hid her feelings on the matter. “You have endured quite a lot over those past nights, I hope you know that despite me being bound to Her Solar Majesty, your sister, you can count on me as well in times of need,” she remarked, which sat very well with Luna.

“It’s very kind of you, Advisor Raven,” she told the mare, ready to leave as her body reminded her that she needed to rest. “You do realize that you will soon be, and not be, the only Advisor?”

“As it… would appear,” was the response, showing that not only Moonwarden was a pony of clandestine instinct about the place.

Luna nodded, leaving Raven to wrap up the report, and soon after was heading back to her chamber. Her head felt cleared and yet buzzing with thoughts and feelings, with known fears and coming anxieties. It felt like, with everything happening, tomorrow night could bring new, unforeseen openings.

She hoped and dreaded that possibility. But… it was nice to feel like she could actually face it all.

Luna had missed this feeling so much.