Journey with a Batpony

The world had listened to Twilight’s plea, for which she was very grateful.

She just didn’t know who exactly to be thankful to. And she didn’t just mean any powers that were – luck, fate or the Immaculate Moon… having given her a calm night, for once. She also had almost too many ponies to express her gratefulness towards.

Throughout last night, Twilight had felt like she was in the center of nothing but caring attention. Rowan Berry had continued to make sure that great quality food and herbal medicine to help regain strength had been adequately provided. Midnight had been keeping Twilight company when she had so desired, while also coordinating matters with the warriors of the Mountain of Crescent. They had, indeed, insisted on providing Twilight with an honorary entourage for at least a night, and while she hadn’t gone anywhere, they had kept vigil outside of her temporary room, and then had escorted her to the chosen chamber for her to stay in. She had taken a moment to talk with them, in a pleasant exchange of gratitude over the gallantry of all sides when dealing with the Lesy. Though, of course, the wampiri had felt more indebted to her, due to her bravery in tackling the monster. They hadn’t even minded seeing her spellcasting, since it had served as a form of defense from the being.

And, speaking of Twilight’s chambers, the servants from Lord Dusk Harvest had prepared her quarters as to the exact specifications from the haspadr, and then some. She had been granted a bigger room than before, and she had already been aware just how little of the palace the haspadr had left for himself and his court. The good of the fruittenders and those infirm had been more vital than his own comforts, but now Twilight’s comforts had been added to the Lord’s list of priorities. To the point where she had caught herself wondering whether she hadn’t been granted Dusk Harvest’s own chamber for her own. She wouldn’t even be surprised to learn that, considering the accommodation.

Her belongings had been retrieved, as per Rowan Berry’s words, and Twilight had breathed a sigh of relief as she hadn’t completely lost any of them. She was currently doing a last inventory, as she hadn’t managed to finish last night, wanting to conserve some strength.

One side of her luggage was worse for wear, yes, with a gash through the material, but she had already been notified that she could be given a new set for the further travel. She also had to count two of her ensembles as unfit for usage until restored. One due to the crash and the suitcase scraping against the ground, right at that damaged side. And the other from traversing through the Lesy’s thicket. The thorns, branches and then the moss underneath, it had all been too much for the blue dress. Again, she had been offered help in repairing the pieces, or being granted new ones from the local tailors.

It was such a nice change of pace. Despite not having met too many batponies last night, Twilight could feel something in the air. And if her calculations were correct, the whole place must have already learnt of the extent of her exploits. Of ‘heroically saving the Valleys’, as her actions had been called.

Twilight felt almost guilty that she was ruining this moment of overwhelming kindness and good will with her slight trepidation. Despite having taken the entirety of last night as her time for recuperation, she still couldn’t recall what that conversation with Bho’Rhu’Tah had been about…

… it was, however, reassuring that no whispers invaded Twilight’s ears at the mental mention of the creature’s name. Though, she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that it was out of good will of the entity rather than an established norm. And the fact that such a thought even appeared in her mind was enough of a warning not to abuse this sort of kindness.

Twilight had just finished counting her books, thinking about those responsible for handling her luggage being always surprised at its weight. An ‘adjusted’ size did not mean a changed weight per se, and the amount of tomes inside could surprise not only a noctral.

Then, there was a knock at her door.

“Tac? Kwo bid to?”

“Nocferratan Maednoc Wentr, hwalba knaze,” came Midnight’s official reply, which must have meant that somepony had a chance at overhearing him.

What was she talking about – this entire palace was not only keen on gossip, but the limited space offered sparse chances at utter privacy, especially in the corridors.

“Wena w,” Twilight asked of the stallion, unlocking the door with a swift spell.

The sight of Midnight was a pleasant one, she couldn’t lie. Not only due to the fact that they had braved their adventure and it had reignited something in both of them. His wounds hadn’t come back and his wing had been restored, and that was definitely something that Twilight could appreciate. She couldn’t quite forget the verlupte, and the courage and sacrifice that Midnight had offered her that night. Now she would breathe more easily.

Well, almost. She had to keep her breathing in check, actually. For the stallion trotted in, having closed the door, reached her and leaned down as if to nuzzle her. But awaiting permission.

One that he received, his motions eliciting a breathy sigh from her.

“Benu noc, iau lumn,” he greeted her afterwards, wearing a wide smile. “I… Sorry, I just wanted to ask how are you, if that’s alright. But I was… sidetracked.”

“I don’t mind. And I’m fine, Midnight. Still no luck with the memories, unfortunately…” she admitted, but the stallion simply held her muzzle with his hoof in reassurance.

“Fear not. I fare no better,” he encouraged her in this strange way, but that smile said so much more. “And other than that? A fever?”

“No, nothing’s wrong. Well, I woke up a little nauseous, but… considering what I’ve been through these past weeks, I think a little bit of an upset stomach is the least bad scenario,” she stated, fully believing in those words. Yet they caused the stallion’s face to harden, which was the more noticeable from so close. And Twilight wasn’t particularly glad that she caused such a reaction. “Sorry, I didn’t want to worry you. I just—”

“I know. You’ve endured your share and more. If you even had a share to endure in the first place, my light,” he told her, remaining close. But the initial eagerness and those sparks in his eyes were as good as gone. “I can talk with Rowan Berry. She’s been very serious about helping you out. And you are very brave to have already partaken in a number of the concoctions she brought forth yesternight.”

“Brave?”

“Well, you smelled and tasted them, right?” Midnight remarked with an overdone shudder, causing Twilight to giggle, honestly appreciating his efforts to make her feel better. “She can have something for your upset stomach, surely. I can go and ask.”

“I don’t think it’s necessary. I don’t really feel it now,” she told the stallion, most appreciative of his attention. But then she took a moment, so she would sound a little more serious. “If we’re on that topic can I… Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“I’m glad that Rowan Berry came around, you know,” Twilight revealed, as she had thought about last night’s events extensively. “I felt a little silly yesternight, being so direct with her around… but she looks like she just accepted, well… us.”

Midnight looked pensive for just a brief moment before he replied. “You know, I’m relieved about it, too. I mean, she has the right to think us unreasonable, and the personal reasons to hate this, but… she made the choice to stop hating. I think…” he paused briefly, looking to the side, his saffron gaze losing more of its luster despite his words. “I think we both did. Decided to let go of some things. And it was long overdue, you know? There was so much unresolved pain between us, and… well, we had to finally do something about it. So we talked and figured some things out…”

Twilight listened attentively, as the stallion had something more in mind, clearly.

“I have been thinking for a long time now about… things, actually. In general, and about specific ones. You have once spoke of this – about how old wounds, left to just… what’s the word… There’s this one in your tongue, you used it, starts with an ‘f’…”

“Fester?”

“Yes. Yes, that one. So… when wounds go bad and ‘fester’, they not only harm you further. They make you harm others around. Others who worry, who try to help, but are met with an obstinate idiot and a terrible odor,” the warrior remarked with a sour smirk. “I’ve been thinking about our history, so you can tell where I am going with this. But I’ve been also thinking about where are we still going wrong. I’ve already considered that, perhaps, it’s not the most terrible of ideas to have in mind not only the Goddess, but her Sister-Goddess, too. If she tutored a mare such as you…” he remarked, giving Twilight a little wink, but clearly abashed to be doing so.

She didn’t mind. She just remained by him, sitting down and inviting him to keep talking, if he had things he wanted to let go off. He had mentioned wishing to converse. Perhaps this was the time?

“And I’ve been thinking about how we… we’ve been always portraying ourselves as noble and chosen and all, while… while we were just removing those that didn’t fit that portrayal, for example. Not that I think they were all innocent and blameless, because we treat this matter with utmost seriousness. And it is overseen by the Tuariani. But… when a name disappears and then the portrait, and then the memory, it’s all the easier to think that nopony was ever there. Like…” He paused, and it was clear that he was combating himself over something. “Like that time in the Legatuum. When you asked about Ash Midnight’s father,” Midnight remarked, shivering as he did so. “See this? This is how hard it is to even break out of this mould. I don’t recall the stallion’s name, no, but he was there, he must have been.”

Twilight recognized this deep perturbation in Midnight at the mention of the katorge. It was a harsh enough punishment, abominable even. But he decided to perform this little act of protest against it, acknowledging that there had to have been a pony there at some point. And that small act of defiance was already a major thing.

But there remained a question. “Why are you telling me this, Midnight? What’s on your mind?”

“A lot of things, trust me. I was caught on a thought lately, actually. I don’t know what we have been talking about with that creature, and it is frustrating, because I know that we were talking. And that’s the point – there was something there, because there must have been. And I…” He paused again, gathering his thoughts. He took a deep breath and then just said one word. “Creatures.”

“… yes?”

“ ‘Creatures’…” he repeated himself, as if surprised by his own declaration.

“Yes, I heard you. But what would you mean?” Twilight tried to encourage him to share more.

“Those that suffer the katorge. ‘Creatures’. We rob them of being ‘noctrali’, abandon them to ultimately perish…” he pointed out, disgusted but also slightly fascinated with the words coming out of his mouth. “And whom did we talk with? A creature. And I don’t know why, but I strangely have feelings of… pity come over me, when I try and focus on our encounter with the Lesy. It feels like abandoning somepony in the forest. Like we abandon those we most severely punish. Why cannot I shake this away?”

Twilight pondered on that for a moment. She wouldn’t necessarily speak of a connection there, but this definitely showed that Midnight had been doing some deep ruminations. After all they had talked about, after his own bad choices, he was clearly wishing to find a new way forward.

And, what was more important, he wanted to share. She could feel it in the way he was speaking, in the way he was looking at her. It was a most welcome change.

“I see what you’re saying, Midnight. It definitely shows your empathy, even if I would be a little uncertain about just how much pity one can feel towards a being like the One of the Forest.”

“Oh, no, I completely understand. After what it put us through? It would be unreasonable, but it’s just… there,” he admitted, looking to the side. “It’s like it’s not entirely my thought. Or… perhaps just connected to something that I don’t remember right now.” His eyes found hers again and he grimaced a little. “But I also cannot help but think that, for all of my pride in my heritage, our traditions and way of life, I… I now see some glaring holes. Just like how my memory is suffering. They are as if burnt out.”

“Alright…” Twilight replied, meeting his gaze with understanding and empathy.

“And so I now wonder – did the sunlight do that necessary damage, so I can see clearly? Or did we do it ourselves, ruining the parchment to hide ruin…?”

That was a darkly poetic stance, indeed, and it left her wondering about all the reasons which had had put Midnight in such a grim mood. She closed the distance between them, giving him a supportive hug as he remained where he was, and continued sharing.

“And I am here, asking myself just how much I have burnt out of myself. For the right reasons, for the wrong reasons. How much more I would need to get rid of, or build up, to be truly worthy of you, my light,” he whispered. Twilight wanted to respond, but he didn’t let her. “I know, I know, I must sound gloomy for the… whatever time. It happens to me.”

“I don’t really mind it, Midnight,” she assured him with a small smile. Especially when a memory returned to her, though not one of the missing ones. “Discord was being his usual, ridiculing self when we met him, but he was right, you know? I do find a brooding warrior to be an attractive sort of character.”

The stallion smirked, which Twilight took as a little victory of hers, but the expression was short-lived. “Well… The entity was right and wrong at the same time, let me tell you,” he remarked, reaching out to hold onto one of Twilight’s hooves. “Listen… I’m glad we have made it through that thicket. And that we were together in this peril. I think it… It made us realize things. Anew, again, or maybe just new ones. Or is that wishful thinking?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Twilight admitted, as the fact that Midnight had been by her side in this, most dangerous adventure meant so much.

He was aware. And it was clearly perturbing him on some level. “I… I do sense a change in you, in how you look at me and…” He looked down, at their conjoined hooves. “But I don’t want to push anything. Try my luck. It’s not about that. I don’t want to be some flippant stud that takes a chance, no, I want… I do want to feel something lasting with you. I always wanted that, it’s just that I see it more clearly now,” he confessed, his saffron eyes open, visible and clear. Keen, yes, but in a way that was protective and encouraging. “I haven’t forgotten what I did, and I still feel so bad about it. I don’t deserve a chance, but are you… are you willing to give me one, already? Actually?”

Twilight kept his eyes on him, but gave herself a moment to consider. Nothing brought ponies together, or back together, like besting a challenge, yes. And, well… She had already shown Midnight that she was again looking at him in a more favorable way. So she wasn’t going to be deceiving him about that.

Nor was she going to be deceiving herself. This was to be new, restored and reformed. So it had to have the strongest of foundations.

“Do you wish to tell me something?” she asked, first and foremost.

“Yes. Yes, I very much do,” Midnight admitted without delay.

“Then you can, and will. We will sit down and you will share with me everything that you wish, my promise holds,” she told him, keeping up the smile. And her expression even deepened a little as they kept looking at each other, sitting so close. “Will you forgive me another, different question?”

“Of course.”

“How much do you want to kiss me right now?”

The stallion was taken by surprise a little, but still kept his composure with that smirk of his. Though his gaze was somewhat melancholic as he replied. “You have no idea… I crave the taste of your lips, the aroma of your breath…” he admitted, letting that little bit of loving intensity to invade his tone and gaze. “But I shall wait. I must. I’d rather get everything off my shoulders first, Twilight. No more strange walls for me to put between us, no more half-truths. Just you and me. It has to be this way.”

She respected the choice, though there was a natural part of her which was slightly disappointed by it. Still, she wanted him to know that she was pleased by the answer. “I’m glad to hear that from you, Midnight. It took you too long.”

“Not without a reason. I don’t think it was a good one, my light, but… I hope you will understand,” he replied, looking very guilty there and then. “Do you think we could have some time this morning? I want to just… I want to talk, but then give you time to think on what I say. I know you need to take things at your own pace, and nothing would make me more regretful than affecting what you have planned for tonight by making you retreat into your own mind.”

There was a sting in Twilight’s heart, that of a warning. “Do you… expect me to have a restless day then, afterwards?” she asked, with an almost disarming honesty considering the stallion’s reaction.

“I do. You have a good heart, Twilight. Too pure for our world,” he told her, and that was no empty praise. “But give me a chance to explain everything that weighs on me. And then… then you will make your choice. A choice I shall accept, whatever it shall be.”

Well, that wasn’t menacing at all, Twilight thought. But what was still upon Midnight’s shoulders was definitely a crushing weight, from the sheer way he was looking at her.

Still, she couldn’t quite stop herself from installing some courage in him, and in herself. She appreciated the effort already, one which was pushing Midnight out of that shell he had so far been occupying. So she closed the distance and granted him a supportive embrace, one in which he gingerly participated, but drank from eagerly nonetheless. She gained much from keeping him close that way, too. It made her heart beat faster, but much more even.

Twilight had to find her focus in the present, however, not to let the promise of this fateful conversation loom over her. Yes, she didn’t have much on her schedule, especially with her new status in the Mountain of Dusk, but she felt that she needed to make some crucial moves sooner rather than later. She just felt that urge to make things right, if she had been given an opportunity to do so.

And so, after everypony had done what the evening required, Twilight asked her companions to pass a message to a certain pony, in a secure way. And to find a spot where a disobliging conversation could happen, if the said individual’s duties would allow that. As much as she was enjoying the change of atmosphere around her, and even those few kind glances she was receiving from the palace servants and courtiers, she preferred to find a location that would not result in a further influx of gossip. And the Dusks loved their gossip.

It also had to be a place that had not been a witness to other, tense exchanges. It felt very prudent to consider that, as she definitely knew of locations around the Iug which could very well work but were compromised in such a way.

Thankfully, it seemed that even in the place as busy as the Mountain of Dusk, there were portions naturally designated for at least a moment of leisure. A moment being the key word. Much like she had seen beneath the Valleys, the Dusks were not interested in many places of pure entertainment. One wouldn’t find a grand theater around the place, or a playground like at the Mountain of Crescent. Sometimes, however, after a night and even a day of hard work, what one wanted was some stillness and relative quiet. And one that was not necessarily just a shrine.

A spacious overlook residing over the main portion of the Mountain of Dusk cavern was perhaps not a place that most would connect with proper relaxation, but Twilight had been informed by Rowan Berry that this was just the sort of place that didn’t see too many visitors and was, indeed, to the side. The lack of ponies about was mostly due to the fact that everypony was constantly busy, and the location required taking a longer route than one would expect. But the natural cavity had been left in such a way that one could still feel connected to the omnipresent bustle below, yet remain unseen and far enough to find a moment of respite.

Twilight was hoping that she would not offend the pony invited by the proposal of having some of said leisure, so she waited on one of the long benches. They were positioned around a thick, natural column, allowed to remain in its untouched, ancient state. Something to remind any ponies resting around that nature was there, always, and it could create a most marvelous designs on its own. Ponies were just to embellish it, if even.

That almost made Twilight think about the Lesy, though no amount of effort was lifting the black fog from her mind.

“Hwalba knaze,” came a calm greeting towards her, and she turned around gracefully to meet the marigold eyes of her companion for the immediate future.

“Overseer General Dusk Tarn, Neskaza Lunee... welae tuu noc illum,” she nodded in his direction, inviting him to join her.

“I welae Neskaza Lunee... illum tueu noc tez.”

“I’m so glad that you have arrived, Overseer General. I was worried that I might have disturbed your work, after all, or caught you at an inopportune moment.”

“Honestly, I wouldn’t be able to do anything in my life but work, since one could say that every moment is ‘inopportune’ when one is a nadvidan okolnu,” the middle-aged stallion admitted in a leveled tone, slowly trotting to meet her. The fact that he was still holding a ledger of some sort, even if he claimed he took an actual break, was telling. “I’m glad to see you in good health after your recent… misadventure,” he added, occupying the bench himself.

“Thank you, Overseer General. I heard that you were asking about my well-being, I do appreciate that, wholeheartedly,” she told the stallion, wishing to establish the right kind of atmosphere.

“Think nothing of it, Honored Princess. It is what should be done when met with bravery like this,” the batpony replied, with honest modesty. Still, his gaze and bearing were as keen and dutiful as ever. “Though… I cannot help but notice that there should be ponies here tending to your said well-being.”

She knew what he meant. Her entourage was nowhere to be seen. But, as opposed to what he was implying, it was a deliberate choice and they were doing exactly as instructed.

“I don’t think anypony can threaten me here, Overseer General. I trust in the hospitality of the Mountain of Dusk even more firmly than before,” she responded, and the stallion had no reply to it.

Well, that wasn’t true. He just waited a moment to express it. “After what was conveyed to me, I… am inclined to believe that nopony can seriously threaten you, Honored Princess.”

Twilight had to fight a smirk, yes, but also a little shiver. She was holding too many secrets to be sure what reached the stallion’s ears. So she replied with a neutral comment. “Grapevine travels at a remarkable speed around here, I have learnt.”

“Ah, that’s a nice word for it. We sometimes use ‘echoes’ for that sort of thing,” he translated… and Twilight’s brow furrowed out of nowhere. That word meant something to her, though she didn’t know what, other than the obvious. “Oh, don’t worry, hwalba knaze. The whispers are supportive, if a little… potent,” Dusk Tarn assured her, and clearly had something in mind. “You have, allegedly, struck the Lesy with a mighty spell. Like a comet the color of the evening sky, and wreathed in starlight.”

“I had to defend those around me, it wasn’t a complex spell,” Twilight admitted. She didn’t know if mentioning it had been Midnight she had been trying to protect would help there and then. So she waited. “And it didn’t do much to the being.”

“You stood tall against the challenge and used one of the Lost Gifts as they were intended – protecting others, burning away a portion of that entity. That’s… meaningful to me,” he admitted, and Twilight was reminded of how high of a standard did Dusk Tarn hold, not to mention his opinion on Equestrians. “And, speaking of that… I do wish to give you my thanks, so this meeting is most fortuitous, hwalba knaze. You have protected our most valuable assets, our Dalli, and for that, you have my utmost gratitude. I hope I can express it enough through these few words.”

“There is nothing to thank for, Overseer General. I was just doing what was right. But, I understand the weight of reciprocity in Noctraliya, so I accept this declaration gladly,” she told the stallion, turning to face him more while maintaining the expected distance between them. “I hope you do not think I have called you here only to lure this gratitude from you, however.”

“I wouldn’t think you that sort of a pony, considering our previous encounters,” Dusk Tarn responded, but there was that little note of caution in his voice. A facet of his character, no doubt.

“And I am not that sort of pony, no. But I still hoped that I could meet with you to discuss a little matter. I couldn’t think of anypony else to share my issue with.”

“An ‘issue’, Honored Princess?”

“Well, perhaps ‘concern’ is a better expression here,” she admitted, measuring her words and volume accordingly. “I’m very glad to have helped with the Lesy situation. But I would like to offer more to the Mountain of Dusk, and to Noctraliya in general. So, I am considering the needs of the Valleys and I cannot think of a better pony to ask about those. What more could I do to help you?”

Dusk Tarn was surprised, yes, but said surprise was entwined with a healthy and unhealthy dosage of suspicion. At least his eyes spoke of that, even if his voice remained as calm and cold as a mountain lake. “You are… offering support to our farming efforts? A direct one?”

“Of course. I want to know what might be needed to help with the situation here. Fertilizers, machinery, specialists,” she enumerated, being utmost serious. “I understand the plight of a limited farmland, but I want to hear a specialist’s opinion on all of the possible solutions, Overseer General.”

The stallion held the ledger a bit firmer, positioning it before himself, like a natural barrier. Perhaps it was an indication of something, perhaps just to accentuate a point. “No rest for the weary,” he made a comment first and foremost.

“I do realize that it sounds like I have taken you from one work to another, Overseer General, but that’s far from the truth. What I want to do is help, further still. I don’t mean for you to shuffle numbers before me right away, but I want you to know that I am willing to provide the necessary aid, as a Princess of Equestria,” Twilight promised with a smile. Hoping that her reasoning, and her deeds so far, would prove more than enough to convince even a cautious pony like the stallion before her to work with her. “While I treat this matter with utmost seriousness, I also thought that letting you know that your current work is appreciated, and shall be further supported by my own actions, will give you a little breather and help look to the future with more hope.”

The stallion didn’t seem too convinced by such sentences, though perhaps it was just a masque he decided to wear. “I… understand. If you would be willing to give me some time, hwalba knaze, I could have a list of possible solutions prepared. Though…” He paused, calculating something in his mind and tapping his hoof against his book. “There are many theories about what could still be done. Still, we all recognize that we are reaching the absolute limit of what we can be achieved from the Dalli. Every scrap of arable land, every hillside, it’s all utilized. And if we were to inadvertently cross the invisible line that would lead to irreversibly damaging our plots, our soil… There’s a disaster to be had.”

Twilight nodded in understanding. And also recognizing that Dusk Tarn was being very open with her. Perhaps it was a form of gratitude, perhaps him warming up to the concept of receiving aid in his challenging mission. But this was definitely proving a hidden point that Twilight was trying to make, and not before the middle-aged stallion.

She almost looked up before continuing. “We want to avoid that, all of us. And receiving a thorough synopsis would be wonderful, Overseer General. I hope that with that knowledge I could also provide help to the Honored Lord. He carries a great burden on his shoulders, which also needs to be lessened.”

She meant it, in more ways than one.

“That he does.”

The sharpness and short nature of the Overseer General’s comment was exactly what Twilight had been anticipating. Unsure about what she meant, exactly, Dusk Tarn became most cautious in his response. It further proved just how deep did the Family’s issue with the Honored Lord’s situation run.

Twilight was not going to refer to that directly. “Actually, could you think of a place, Overseer General, where I could present some propositions regarding the Valleys to the Honored Lord? I think a point is illustrated the best in the right environment, one adhering to it.”

“So somewhere in the Dalli?” Dusk Tarn thought for a second, but it was clear that he was getting more and more skeptical about the direction that Twilight was taking this conversation in. “I… suppose any place could work, even the plantation you have just saved, Honored Princess. Still, there are a couple of higher hills, down the Vizesalki, the Cataracts, from which one could spot a greater portion of the orchards, and the waterfalls too. If you would like to add a… backdrop to this discussion.”

Twilight waited for a second before asking the next, loaded question, hearing the tone of the stallion. Especially when using the term ‘waterfalls’.

“Would you like to ask about something, Overseer General?”

“I’m wondering whether I do, indeed,” the stallion responded, and there was this briefest of moments when it looked like he was about to just stand up and leave. “Aside from that peculiar question… You really wouldn’t need to ask to see me directly to be granted access to this information. I might not know the nuances of politics or diplomacy, but I know the value of work. You must be aware of that by now. You could have expected me to grant you this sort of knowledge as a repayment for what you have done…”

He paused, looking intently in her direction, his gaze remaining cold and motionless.

Twilight was not going to repay him with the same. “You could have refused, Overseer General, this isn’t really open knowledge. Not to me, definitely. I preferred to convey my request in person.”

Dusk Tarn was unconvinced. Very much so. “What is it that you really seek with this meeting, hwalba knaze?”

“Very direct of you, Overseer General,” she responded, calm and collected, and meaning every word. “I rush to assure you – nothing unsavory. I simply cannot help but be concerned. About things in general, yes, but about you as well.”

“About me?” he parroted the words, though did his best not to sound derogatory. All while remaining unconvinced, of course. “I think I know what this is about. The outburst you have seen the last time,” the stallion almost hissed those words through his teeth. “Why did I have a feeling that it was going to cost me more? Yes, you seem the sort of pony to hang on an issue like that, no offence. Not my proudest moment when it comes to showing my best side before a foreign dignitary, I admit, but one that was definitely necessary. For the sake of that… that…!”

“His name is Maednoc Wentr, Overseer General,” Twilight spoke in a leveled, calm tone. “And while I recognize the extent of his fault, I also recognize the extent of his value.”

There was a moment of tense silence, in which she could almost hear the stallion opposite’s heartbeat pulsing right in his ears. Even the murmur of life from the cavern underneath was not enough to silence that ireful rhythm. Yes, she had just said something definitely shocking, so why was there still everynight business going underneath them? Surely that must have been the Overseer General’s thinking, considering the depth and nuances of his expression.

“… what is the meaning of this?” he finally asked, expecting only the worst of answers. “Why is this your problem to even touch upon, hwalba knaze? It’s a most private matter! Regarding my bloodline and that—”

“It’s something I have witnessed and, as a Princess of Friendship, I have every motivation to at least offer understanding,” she told the batpony, stopping whatever name-calling or cursing was coming.

That managed to get his upper lip to quiver dangerously. “With… With all due respect to you, as a foreign dignitary – you have no right, not really. For have you ever lost a foal, Honored Princess?”

Twilight was expecting that sort of a question. She still shuddered inwardly, for even imagining such a scenario, especially as a mare, was causing her unpleasant inner stings, ones which were travelling from her heart almost to her abdomen.

“No, Overseer General. I would not claim that I have ever felt that sort of agony,” she responded, but didn’t allow the stallion to interrupt her after only those sentences. “That does not mean that I cannot empathize with it, offer a supportive word or gesture, or help you through this loss in whatever capacity I can provide here and now.”

“This is preposterous!” the stallion protested, getting up from the bench, though not leaving. “If you wish to hear an apology for my misbehavior, I will grant it, but don’t dress it up as some sort of—”

“Peace, Overseer General, I am not about anything like that,” Twilight assured him, gracefully inviting him to sit down once more. “I saw your pain last time. Justified, righteous, but one that you are allowing to fester inside of you,” she remarked, remembering what she had just discussed with Midnight. “Your daughter suffered a terrible fate, trala ipe w Argentee, and the pony responsible for her being in the wrong place at the wrong time feels the burden of your anger. And he feels much remorse about what happened, having suffered his part. He has pained even more since you revealed before him the fate of your grandfoal, his unborn foal.”

Twilight had foreseen the possibility of the Overseer General simply trotting away in indignation, and it was clearly the scenario to anticipate. Until she mentioned that last part. For all of his anger, the stallion was fully aware that, by speaking aloud about the topic, he had done something which he had been required to abstain from, if Rowan Berry’s insight was to be believed.

Whether it was a righteous order to follow was of less substance to a pony like him, that much was clear. The fact that he had gone against the will of his superiors was shameful to him, even if he had done so in fury.

That moment of silence Twilight was not going to squander. She again pointed at the bench, hoping to get Dusk Tarn to sit down. And he did, albeit reluctantly, trying to contain his outrage. There was even more distance between the two of them now. But Twilight was convinced she could mend that.

“Overseer General, I will need you to forgive me for touching upon this convoluted matter, but touch upon it I shall. While Nocferratan Maednoc Wentr did the unthinkable by crossing the established lines of marriage and—”

“He shared all of that with you?” the stallion asked, sounding somewhat unconvinced about her being truthful. Or maybe just shocked by the sheer fact.

He would have been even more shocked to learn of more which connected Twilight and Midnight. And the circumstances of her learning that fact, which she definitely had to withhold.

“He did, Overseer General. In great shame and humiliation. He knows well the extent of his mistake—”

“Does he?!” Dusk Tarn interrupted, almost snarling, but received back an equally strong sentence.

“Yes, he does.”

Twilight declared that while looking right into the stallion’s eyes. She was commanding respect and attention through this stare alone. And, for perhaps that reason, Dusk Tarn was inclined to continue listening, despite the rage burning deep inside of him.

“He does know, he recognizes the pain he had caused. And I recognize,” Twilight continued, shifting her approach to the matter to help make her point, “that Nocferratan Maednoc Wentr risked his life now, remaining by my side to face the Lesy alongside me. Through which action he preserved, even if indirectly, the livelihoods and lives of many ponies of Noctraliya. Daughters, grandfoals, wives. Your life as well, Overseer General, for I can tell you are the sort of pony who would have kept himself from eating until everypony else would have their share,” she remarked, leaning in just a little, not needing a grand voice for what was she about to say. “I’m not asking you to forget what happened, and what he did. And I’m not asking you to put on the scales the wrongs that he had caused and the good he now brought to the land you so care about. What I want, Overseer General, is for you to see him as a pony he is, not a… creature you believe him to be.”

“So… you think me unreasonable?” came the predictable question of a hurting pony, but infused with a small note of fear. As if he had just recognized what sort of fate Twilight had referred to. “Unwise to hold onto this, while I have lost so much?

Twilight granted him a delicate, empathetic smile. “Not at all, Overseer General. I see before myself a stallion of duty and great responsibility, one that wishes to protect others. Do so in the capacity of the role he had been granted by the nation, and by the design of the Immaculate Moon…” She bowed her head in reverence which was meant to calm down the pony opposite even further. “Nightguardian Midnight Wind is much the same, come to think of it. And though he stumbled, does that mean he is worthless until the very end?”

Dusk Tarn looked to the side briefly, and betrayed through this motion that at least some of the words which Twilight had uttered were making their way to his core.

“You’re asking me to pretend like nothing happened, just because the stallion proved his bravery now?” was another, sadly expected question.

“Not at all. Your daughter is still gone, a part of your heart went with her. A part of his heart too, for do not think, Overseer General, that he forgot or is downplaying what happened. And, I don’t think that neither is the mare who caused Midnight Wind to stumble,” Twilight pointed out, again stopping her eyes from escaping upwards. “But I have every ounce of trust that they are trying to repent for what happened. And that means that they aren’t evil ponies. Just flawed ones. Like we all are.”

There was that glance from the stallion which was almost asking the question about Twilight’s own mistakes and sins of the past. But the point was made, and Dusk Tarn had to deal with it.

She was willing to give him all the time he needed, though the stallion also didn’t wish to leave her in tense silence, apparently.

“I will never forget the sight of my daughter, my dear, sweet Dusk Stream, when I offered her remains to the pyre. Her broken body, with its broken heart inside, and the broken life underneath it… I will not erase from my mind the hurt, the loss suffered by me, my wife, my very bloodline, and for such a basic, hideous reason,” the stallion remarked, the word being transformed into a vicious hiss which almost echoed like a warning from a threatened serpent. “I don’t want to see that stallion’s stinking hide anywhere near me.”

“That’s reasonable,” Twilight interjected, empathizing with the pain.

And receiving another sharp look from the Overseer General. “Having said that, what do you want me to say or do?”

“Just what’s true and what’s right,” she replied, using her tone to calm the stallion down again. “Did or did I not have another pony with me, one that joined me in my dangerous excursion into the overgrown plantation? One who helped me cross the thicket, confront the Lesy, all of which resulted in saving the Valleys?”

“Yes, you did. That’s just a fact,” the stallion told her, not with reluctance, but definitely not with even an ounce of warmth in his voice. “That is the same pony who had caused my family such misery. He can be considered a hero for his deeds.”

“Can be considered, or is?” Twilight prodded the batpony a little, because that much was necessary.

“… is,” the Overseer General relented, putting his ledger on the bench nearby, then burrowing his muzzle in his forehooves in irritation.

For a moment Twilight was worried about this reaction, because it looked like he was about to burst into tears or, as the shuddering in his body suggested, leap at her, not knowing what to do with this anger inside.

“I know what you are doing, hwalba knaze. And it’s not like you aren’t right, it’s just… I cannot bare you being right. I’m better with holding to this…” came the stallion’s voice, from behind the hooves. “Why must he have been so monumentally stupid?! Why couldn’t he just… just withstand the temptation?! I liked him, hwalba knaze, I really did!” Dusk Tarn revealed before Twilight, one of his eyes poking at her briefly. “I knew about his exploits at the Iug u Kwadr, his is a strong bloodline! Or… so I thought! Damnable colt!” the Overseer General complained, letting out some of that ire alongside the truth. “They were such a great match, my daughter and him! They understood each other, it could have been so…! So…!”

The stallion didn’t finish, he just let out a sigh, recognizing the moment of weakness which caused him this outburst of honesty.

But, deep inside, he must have been relieved to say it out loud. At least Twilight believed so, as some of the tension which was encapsulating the stallion’s body seemingly dissipated. Not all of it, of course.

“Apologies… again, Honored Princess. It seems I just cannot be a regular pony before you. Just a nadvidan okolnu and not an emotionally unstable lout, or whatever word it is in your tongue,” he complained, but Twilight repaid him with yet another, kind expression.

“I think you are a regular pony, Overseer General. One that went through a lot, and one that faced great hurt. I understand your anguish,” she declared, hoping that even that little bit of help would go a long way.

She wasn’t naïve, she knew that she would not manage to heal him from this pain with just one meeting, but… she felt that she did the part.

The stallion suddenly stood up, taking the ledger with himself. “I… do apologize for this moment of weakness, again. I will ma—”

“It wasn’t weakness, Overseer General,” Twilight kindly interrupted. “I hope you do understand that. We are all complicated beings, with our flaws and terrible mistakes. It doesn’t mean that we are hopeless even if we fell once before…”

“So… it’s fairness that you are hoping I will show towards him now?” the stallion retorted, shaking his head. “How about this – I don’t want to see him again, if it can be helped, but I will recognize… before myself…” he added, though that cost him dearly considering the grimace which revealed his fangs, “… that he did his part and more, by helping you with the Lesy…”

“It is not about me, Overseer General. It’s about yourself – can you live with things being like this?” she asked that one, final question, which hopefully would help the stallion reach a greater understanding of his own pain.

“… I think I can,” he spoke, though there was no warmth in his tone. “I will make sure you are provided with what you required, Honored Princess. By your leave?”

“Of course. Thank you,” she replied with one more smile.

She was trailing the stallion with her eyes, and he must have felt them, for he stopped before he were to disappear from the recess. He took a deep breath, and Twilight could spot one of his forelegs tightening on the ledger. “Hwalba knaze?”

“Tac, nadvidan okolnu?”

“I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“… right now?” she asked, wondering if he had retreated from this battle he had just almost won.

“No. About the foal. Yes, Maednoc Wentr hurt me. I should be better than him, however,” Dusk Tarn uttered, then nodded gracefully and left without waiting for her reaction.

Twilight was left pondering for a moment on that sentence, wondering if this had been a good conversation after all. She believed that she had helped alleviate some pain from the stallion, even if she had doubts about it being a lasting solution without him working on it himself. The bad blood was there, and would remain there, but… perhaps it could be diluted a little?

She had to also forgive herself, for she had had another agenda for this meeting.

“A point well proven…”

A mare’s voice resounded from above. Two sets of hooves made contact with the ground not far away from Twilight, to the gentle flapping of wings.

“Thank you, Rowan Berry,” she replied, standing up to have the conversation with her entourage, which had masterfully remained in the shadows above for the entire conversation.

She looked at Midnight, whose gaze was locked on the entryway that had just seen the Overseer General leave through. His lips were pursed, but his eyes were softer than usual. He finally took a deep breath, realizing that the two mares were observing him, and spoke up.

“I… well, I am glad that I am healthy again,” he began, turning to them, and it was clear that he was buying himself some time. Not that he was saddened at the fact that his strength and abilities had returned. “Otherwise I would not be able to keep myself up there to hear it all…” he admitted, looking behind him again. “He was always dutiful, iau vezpatr, expecting only the best from himself and those beneath him. I respected that, and I… failed him, miserably. Him, and many others,” Midnight remarked, his eyes escaping towards Rowan Berry, who shared this failure. “I don’t expect him to forget an ounce of pain I caused. But… that is not what this is about, is it?”

“No,” Twilight confirmed with a sad, understanding smile. “Forgiveness, however, is very important to reach for. I don’t believe this was it, yet… but it was a step in the right direction for the Overseer General. And… for you, perhaps?” she asked of Midnight, who nodded with a small hiss.

“Definitely,” he admitted. He mused for a while, and it soon became clear that his thoughts went from his situation to another. The one that Twilight had been hoping to address, actually. “With me, however, the fault was real. It doesn’t seem to be the case with haspadre hitve, no?” he asked aloud.

“No,” Rowan Berry responded. “At least, no signs of that and… well, I still want to believe that we are judging her character accordingly,” she added, clearly reaching past just her healer’s expertise.

“Indeed,” Midnight agreed, meeting Twilight’s gaze. “If you could get the hwalbu haspadr to talk with you so openly, Twilight, perhaps there is a chance at something extraordinary to happen. I must say, your talent at just… being there for other ponies is remarkable.”

“You flatter me, Midnight,” Twilight replied, feeling genuinely praised but not wishing to dwell on it. “Yet, this wasn’t just about me making a conversation like this,” she corrected the stallion, looking towards Rowan Berry as well. “I’m glad that my words found purchase with the Overseer General, but it pays to be prepared for another outcome. Which is why I would say that my plan is also based on making a conversation… in the right place, at the right time.”

The healer’s lips shuddered just a little, as she clearly saw Twilight’s point. “You know what, hwalba knaze? I think we are helping each other here.”

“Oh? What would you mean, Rowan Berry?”

“Well… First of all, we are talking like regular ponies, which I wouldn’t have thought possible just a few weeks ago. Like, not even as a strange, wishful scenario. I’m an occultane, openly admitting that before an Equestrian knaze. And working with said Princess, having a common goal and some solid understanding at this point,” the healer summed it up well, giving Midnight a glance too. He was clearly recognizing her point, but there was the other side to it, however. “And then there’s you, hwalba knaze. Your intentions are pure, and your motivation most noble. And yet I recognize that glint in your eyes. It’s easy to spot by the likes of us. That is the sort of cunning that is praiseworthy…” she told Twilight, meaning her words. “I see your point, and believe that I know your intentions now. Very astute idea. Actually, I’m surprised your irises didn’t turn slit at this point,” the operative jested.

And Twilight rolled her still sunpony eyes a little, though she smiled at Rowan Berry’s words. They were motivating more than anything. “Thank you. Just wishing to see the matter through, but I might as well prove to be resourceful,” she assured.

Midnight Eye’s visage manifested in her head there and then, and she had every ounce of belief that he would find the sort of artful thinking as a sign of Twilight’s personal growth.

She looked at Midnight, since her thought ventured in his Family’s direction. He was looking somewhere past her head, staying still and silent. So much so than one could easily discern that he was ruminating on something, even biting his lower lip a little, likely without realizing it.

But when the stallion felt eyes on him, he shook his head, already knowing the question Twilight was just about to ask. “Ia ecus, just… thinking about possible scenarios. For what could have been and…” he began explaining, looking her way again with piercing intent. “Perhaps… Perhaps it is how you have said it, Twilight. That we aren’t hopeless till the end, even if we made terrible choices. Though, honestly, I don’t think I am fully believing it yet. And definitely wouldn’t have believed it some time ago,” he revealed, sounding very serious.

And Twilight could have sworn that his gaze landed on Rowan Berry ever so briefly. Perhaps the conversations they had shared in the Mountain of Crescent had had a beneficial effect on both of them, and more so than she thought?

Whatever it was, she could spot that little sparkle of hope in the stallion’s keen gaze, and that was perhaps her greatest achievement that night.

Still, there was more work to be done. “Let us review what was gained. First of all, I’m so very glad that the Overseer General is willing to help with the information on the Dalli. I am hoping to study that knowledge and bring before Honored Lord Dusk Harvest something concrete, I think it would help him be less burdened,” Twilight declared, looking at the two batponies, who had… peculiar expression on their muzzles. “What is wrong? Are you two… surprised about this?”

“Oh, I definitely am,” Midnight replied and a grin fully blossomed on his lips. “Normally such knowledge would be kept properly contained. Caste rules and all of that. Of course, you are a little beyond these limitations of ours… And it would be very hard to accuse you of hostile intent now, when you have just saved the place. This is the sort of information that could be considered ‘national security’, I think it is said in your tongue, Twilight. And yet… I think the Overseer General might actually grant it to you, as a repayment. But learning that would worry some ponies, wouldn’t it, Rowan Berry?”

The clearly mocking tone of the stallion’s last question wasn’t directed at the operative, actually. It was simply to be conveyed through her, so to speak.

“For all of the good humor you have about this, Maednoc Wentr, it is, first of all, a sign of great trust that the Overseer General is putting in the hwalba knaze. He believes that you want to help. We know it, which makes this… a thing permissible to remain,” she spoke to Twilight with a tone that betrayed utter seriousness of the matter. “Now, the other part, the one that Midnight Wind is so… pleased about,” Rowan Berry added with a slight hiss. “I do feel obliged to put something in my reports to the hwalba haspadre, not to risk her wrath or displeasure at me not fulfilling certain obligations. Though I think I might omit the part about you gaining vital information regarding the needs and weaknesses of the Dalli…”

There was something deathly serious and sobering in the mare’s voice, which Twilight immediately recognized. And reacted to, accordingly. “I grasp the extent of my request, and the situation this creates. I do hope that the Overseer General read into my intentions well enough, yes. But that I can do nothing about right now. But… would it be unreasonable for me to help you, Rowan Berry?”

“… help me? In what?” the healer asked in return, a little perplexed.

Midnight, on the other hoof, let out a breathy chuckle, filled to the brim with disbelief and amusement both. “Neskaza Lunee… cronae uai. You are digging wells of cunning, Twilight. You want to help write reports on yourself?”

“When you say it like that, well…” Twilight admitted, fighting a giggle from somewhere deep in her throat. “But, I mean, I know myself the best, and know my motivations thoroughly. Can I not provide insight, as an expert in the matter?”

Rowan Berry tried to maintain a straight face, and failed miserably, letting out an exhale. “Well, I… won’t say ‘no’,” she admitted, though raised her hoof before anypony else spoke. “What I will instead say is – this is ridiculous.”

“I would say that you actually make it sound like the most half-witted suggestion you have ever heard,” Midnight judged humorously, trotting closer and winking at Twilight. “But I think it is actually a scheme brilliant in its simplicity.”

The healer stared at the both of them with a knowing look, then smiled and shrugged, causing Twilight to giggle.

Surely, Noctraliya had seen worse ideas.

“You foolish, half-witted mare!”

“You will watch your tone when speaking to me!”

“I will do no such thing, not tonight, and not for you!”

Midnight Eye, for once in his life, was going to put poise and decorum aside. He was definitely not pleased about the choice, but it had to be made, just like many other, hard choices required of his destined role. And perhaps that drive was exactly why his voice was finding such a great purchase within this empty chamber, one thankfully positioned to the side and away from prying ears. After all, it had been chosen to hold a very, very upsetting… well, ‘conversation’ wasn’t the right word.

‘Exchange’, perhaps. That being said, Azure Mist was bringing nothing to the metaphorical table of this discussion. Nothing but short-sightedness and desperation, which could cost all of them absolutely everything in return.

What a terrible proposition. It was making Midnight Eye shiver internally, even if his voice was strong and adamant, although filled with ire.

“You were always insufferable in your petty desire to prove yourself, but this?! Do you know what you have done?” he asked the mare again, trying to find at least a shred of shame in her, but seeing none of it so far.

“What I have done?! I gave the order necessary to safeguard our plans! It is not my fault that—!”

“Not your fault?! What is not your fault?!” Midnight Eye interrupted, as he had no patience for excuses and faulty explanations. He hadn’t made this journey to the Sanctuary after having bombarded her with summons again and again, and finally having received a lukewarm agreement, just to listen to empty words. “You’ve issued a death mark! Just like that, those words be dreaded! And upon none other than the Equestrian convert – the Royal Advisor to the Immaculate Moon… Herself!”

“Upon asunpony that—!”

“He could be a mule for all I care! He’s the closest pony to the Goddess in the flesh, one that—”

“The closest pony to discovering what our scheme is, which She is clearly against, what other scenario would there be?!” Azure Mist interrupted and Midnight Eye was not going to forget that audacity, especially one in the face of such a disaster. “I had to act as required, and I did! For the good of Noctraliya, as that surely fulfills Her will!”

“Her will?” he responded, masterfully changing his approach into contemptuous enlightenment. “Let me remind you of something very simple and basic, clearly burrowed beneath all of those misbegotten plans in your head – we act for the good of Noctraliya. Not you – we,” he told the mare, in a chilling, frostbitten tone which felt the more emotionless after the recent outbursts. “We lead our Families in Her name, though that remains our own prerogative. But Her will regarding Noctraliya is shown through our decisions, communal decisions. You have acted on your own, and look where it has brought us to.”

The locale perhaps wasn’t portraying Midnight Eye’s point to its full extent, but the sheer fact that it was far from to the holy settlement’s center and the Great Shrine, and hidden from sight and hearing of others… Yes, it was indeed making both of them look like desperate schemers, with fire under their hooves and, most likely, above their heads. It had to be evocative enough.

And if not, he was going to make it perfectly clear for Azure Mist. “Do you think I couldn’t have gone through with all of this on my very own? Design it, implement it, trot by trot? I have a stallion right by Princess Twilight Sparkle’s side, and—”

“Oh, and how is that going? Did you manage to stop him drooling at her sight?” the mare interjected yet again, in a tone which would make a stone statue raise its voice in protest over her insolence.

There was a moment of silence which rang louder than an echoing chant in a vast temple. The moment of stillness and sudden danger became even more disturbing, or so Midnight Eye hoped, especially when he began closing the distance to the mare. It was as if he was planning to do something very unreasonable, which would, nevertheless, feel very good even for a pony of dignity like him.

There was an effect following his choice of action, definitely, even if hidden to the untrained eye. Azure Mist remained where she was, her stance barely changed… but that ‘barely’ was the key factor. Midnight Eye had enough awareness to spot that slight shift of her hoof, as if preparing to dodge or reach for something if the situation would turn dangerous.

He doubted she could surprise him or strike at him, even, but he was going to be cautious. Underestimating the Mists was one of the foremost reasons to vanish in them, as the saying did claim.

But he wasn’t going to stop himself from giving her an earful, if she wanted to be so obstinate and so short-sighted. Though, he couldn’t blame her for that stance. For more reasons than she realized, reasons that he had been counting on.

“You will listen to me, and you will listen to me well, Azure Mist,” he began, pouring all of his authority and power into his voice and gaze, as if he wanted to bend her very will with his sheer presence. “I came to you with this plan, recognizing the prowess of the Family Mist, wishing to see my scheme from another angle, and to make sure that I do act in the name of our nation and kin. Not alone, in search for vainglory, but having another noble pony of patriotic intentions working alongside me. So that we represent the will of the Goddess, though manifesting in the deeper shadows…”

Azure Mist’s eyes lit up a little at the praise, and she was ready to reply and yet further explain her calamitous idea.

That wasn’t Midnight Eye’s intention at all, as his tone shifted into pure threat, with the prowess of an actor he had never had an inclination to become. “Instead, you made a move without consulting this with me, pointing blade at none other than the closest sunpony to be considered a faithful of the Goddess! One that She had chosen to be closest to her in the flesh, as She remains amongst the rest of them, whatever Her most holy and inscrutable intentions are! And the said pony is still alive! It doesn’t matter how close he previously was, now they will know we were trying to protect some sort of a scheme! Do you think he didn’t see who was trying to kill him? He allegedly ran through the capital city, gathered half a district around the scene! Have you thought of the repercussions of that?! I could have reminded you, very well, of all the risks!”

When the initial shock of his words passed, Azure Mist was ready to defend her stance again, which was most infuriating.

“You gave me the lists, the names, the information, which—”

“Of course I did, because I have done my research! And because I wished for you to keep your hoof on the pulse, just in case I wouldn’t be able to! Or if we were to vote for a confrontation – who else to give a list of vital targets to?” Midnight Eye responded, hiding much behind the veil of his genuine anger. His intentions, first and foremost. “But never in my wildest imagination would I think you so monumentally stupid as to reach for it without ever consulting this with me! Perhaps this is now my greatest shame, a lack of imagination regarding just how irresponsible you are, and with such a hazardous knowledge, Azure Mist.”

That wasn’t the truth. Yes, he had anticipated her using all that he had fed her in some way, for the sake of infiltration, sabotage, even blackmail… but murder? Outright murder? One would think that her breaking the rules at her own Mountain would be the extent of her foolishness. Perhaps indulging her hadn’t been the wisest of ideas, however vital it had been to make her predisposed…

Nevertheless, the tone of a scolding father got exactly the response that Midnight Eye had been expecting. At least there his intuition hadn’t failed.

There was this one, solitary tear which began forming in the mare’s right eye, just before she erupted in a shrilling tone which was most unpleasant. “Irresponsible?! How… How dare you?! I’m not irresponsible! I am the Lord of Family Mist!” came the predictable sentences of an embittered filly, one that wanted to be more than she really was. It almost caused Midnight Eye to feel pity. ‘Almost’ making the crucial difference. “That stallion would have given Equestria a warning before—”

“I don’t know what he would do, as a close servant of the Goddess. But you most certainly have tipped Equestria,” he interrupted this tedious tantrum. Even his daughter had been more noble in throwing those during her early years. “If the sunponies figure it all out, you have endangered not only our finely-crafted scheme, but the lives of all of our subjects there, serving in the Nightguard. You must be aware that they will first turn their gaze to them now, expecting hostile intent. And if we give the order to make a move, like to organize a set of ‘unit-wide exercises’ around Shades’ Hollow, the sunponies will immediately know that something is coming.”

“… they are expected to be loyal till the end.”

Midnight Eye was, truth be told, taken by surprise. There was a darkness in this sentence which touched him to the core. For all of his affinity for hard-hearted intrigue, he would never let such a stance be taken, not even by himself. And he definitely wouldn’t declare it openly, ever!

“Are you hiding just how ashamed you are behind pointless ruthlessness? They are our best troops, they are not to be spent like onyx for some frivolity!” he protested, shaking his head. “Have you lost your mind utterly just now?”

“No, Midnight Eye, I am simply convinced of the skills and determination of our best warriors, who would not give an inch of ground to any Equestrian. Not again,” she so declared, though it was hard to tell whether conviction was present behind those words at all. “I am aware of the risk, mind you. Which is why I have taken the necessary steps already, to—”

“What else?!”

Midnight Eye astonished himself with his own volume, as this was nothing short of a roar. Not that he cared that much, as a whole plethora of horrible choices suddenly manifested in his imagination. What other moves could the mare before him have ordered that wouldn’t be more destructive than her previous call?!

“Stop with this brutish shouting!” came the initial reply, and it was as if Azure Mist wished to somehow regain control of the situation, though nothing yet spoke of her successful chances. “Deep Mist failed, and failed miserably, the fool, so the failure is his to endure. He will be punished accordingly for it. And in a way that will assure that his blunder does not become the basis of our downfall.”

Midnight Eye wasn’t injudicious, even when dealing with this righteous wrath bubbling inside of him. That couldn’t stop his logic and reason, and reading into that sentence wasn’t particularly hard.

Still, there was some room for clarification. “Isn’t he your second best asset?”

“Apparently not, a shame. But if there is something that the Family Mist does not lack, it is resourceful, dedicated and opportunistic ponies, many of whom are also trained accordingly. And many who seek to prove themselves useful and become recognized.”

There was certainty in that sentence. Which was exactly why Midnight Eye decided to lower his volume and reign in his fury.

This action of hers wasn’t the right thing to do from a moral standpoint, nor the correct choice in this delicate situation. Which was exactly, and lamentably, why he had to play along. He had to focus on what some would call ‘damage control’, and he wouldn’t be able to work on that with this accursed mare being his enemy.

If she was willing to go that far, then convincing her to change her approach would be as hard as getting out of this intrigue altogether.

“At least you are willing to tie loose ends, Azure Mist. What now, however?” he asked, hoping to prompt the mare to share a bit more, give him more insight into her demented reasoning and prepare accordingly. “Equestria is on its guard, even with some of their forces away as we have planned. Not to mention that if Princess Twilight Sparkle would have a way of conveying to them all of her findings…”

“Preposterous. She wouldn’t break the oath, the good-hearted filly,” Azure Mist remarked with venom. “Besides, we have ponies taking care of her correspondence.”

“Hypothetically convey her findings…”Midnight Eye added, knowing it was anything but, if the report from Midnight Wind was to be believed. But he had nothing to gain by sharing that with Azure Mist at this point. “Let us be prepared for the worst alternative. Since matters did take a turn, did they not?”

“Actually, speaking of that and the sunpony Princess – allegedly something happened to her on the way to the Mountain of Dusk…” the mare stated in a tone nonchalant enough to have Midnight Eye feel like his blood stopped right in his veins.

“… you didn’t.”

“Of course I didn’t, we need her alive,” Azure Mist replied as if shocked by the suggestion, though there was this one note in her voice that spoke of a different disposition, which could manifest if the situation were to deteriorate further. “But I’ve heard rumors after I landed here, that there was something happening considering our dearest diplomatic guest. Her transport was either attacked by something, which would mean a particularly desperate and starving pallidflight because I see no other option, or had an emergency landing for whatever, other reason.”

Midnight Eye listened attentively, especially since the ‘particularly desperate’ remark hit closer to home than the pony opposite believed.

“I hope, then, that our two most dedicated ponies were there in the hour of need,” he declared. And whatever somepony would claim about his real thoughts on the matter of his subject’s feelings towards the Princess, he hoped that they played in Twilight Sparkle’s favor if there had been a dangerous situation. “We should make sure she is alright, and learn what truly happened. Though I expect that Dusk Harvest will notify us, if he did not do so already. We might have just missed the bats.”

“Now you’re calm and collected, what a pleasant change,” Azure Mist dared to comment, and even the glance she received didn’t stop her from looking unrepentant and smug. “Nevertheless, whatever does the Princess try to achieve, our noble colleagues won’t be unreasonable enough to forget our country’s past. We shall remind them, as necessary, of course. Where we are is the result of but a momentary setback, after all. And soon, Shades’ Hollow shall again be under our control, and the vast hillsides from there to the Border will be teeming with produce. We shall be heroes of our time.”

So did Azure Mist claim, and though Midnight Eye had no qualms about reaching for that sort of a status in the history of the nation, he knew that things were never as ‘simple’ as that.

Clearly, she thought otherwise. That glint in her eyes, which could be seen even when she turned her head, letting her luscious mane shift and encompass her like a brilliant fog, spoke of this yearning need for recognition.

Had he missed that before? Or was the pony opposite him descending into madness before his very eyes?

“This will be a triumph worthy of story and song,” she further expressed her maniacal hope, yet earning but a cold remark.

“Or something to make us forgotten creatures in the end…”

“Defeatism does not suit you, Midnight Eye. I know, I know, I’ve done something drastic and I am forced to clean it up. I will, that I promise. Despite your uncouth shouts,” the mare commented, and was honestly pushing her luck at this point. “It will succeed, it has to. For it is all for the good of Noctraliya’s future…”

She wasn’t wrong. And she wasn’t right, neither.

The one thing that Midnight Eye could do now was making sure that only the right ponies would see this future come to pass.

Then again… hadn’t he been designing that since the very beginning?