DayBreak

Chapters

Hurricane
Goodbye
Flavor
Alloy
Arise
Spar
Costumes
Rectify
Scarred
Ghosts
Responsibility
Tailspin
Monstrosity
Downfall
Split
Mistake
Silence
Intertwined
Ambrosia
Wounded
Schemers
Nostalgia
Eyes
Awaken
Speech
Heart
Broken
Divinity
Daybreak
Attack
Time
Do
Blank
Care
Ashes
The Aftermath
Ponyville
Grimoire
Dastard
Hero

Hurricane

The soldier’s wings tapped against his golden armor. He had accompanied Princess Celestia to dozens of shows in his years of service. This time, same as every other, he was to keep an eye on the ponies in and around the opera house. Most of the time, the most exciting thing he did during the event was stop Prince Blueblood at the door to make sure he didn’t smuggle in booze.

The opera had been going on for a while; at least an act or two. The guards generally shifted around just after an intermission, and he’d moved from outside the princess’ booth to just inside the opera house’s door. He didn’t expect to see anypony except fellow guards until the next break.

It came as a double surprise, after a sea of unicorn nobles, to see a pegasus mare walking through the doors. Her dress was backless, allowing her pale blue wings freedom of movement. Her white mane drifted around her face like feathers. The guard felt his eyes trail towards her hind legs, where the dress split open almost to her cutie mark. He cursed the thought that he was still on duty. He puffed his chest out and decided to at least find out why she had arrived so late.

That was when she killed him.

He extended his right wing towards her in a classic pegasus salutation. Her eyes flicked towards him, followed by the rest of her face. Her left cheek held a deep scar, surrounded by bare skin and purple veins. Her wing snapped forward in a smart salute. A small, glinting object flew from between her feathers. He didn’t have time to react with anything more than a blink.

It was a blade, with an edge keener than a hairsbreadth. A golden glow flashed across his coat as his armor’s enchantment fought with the weapon, but the magic was parted in an instant. A sharp pain in his neck cut off any chance of a scream.

She caught him as his knees buckled and set him gently, silently, on the ground. The last thing he ever saw were her gray eyes, hard as granite.

***

It was Celestia’s favorite part of this particular play, when the hero confessed his undying devotion to the mare of his dreams. She had to refuse his affections, of course, because her father forbade her ever marrying a common earth pony. It was still obvious that they were madly in love.

It was, in short, the scene where the opera got good.

The two other ponies in her private box were plainclothes guardsponies, her personal protectors Care and Caution. Long ago, when the opera house had first been built, she had been accompanied by soldiers in full ceremonial armor. The glint of armor caused one too many singers to miss a beat or two, so Celestia insisted on the distracting protection being left outside.

Caution Tape, an earth pony from Fillydelphia, pulled at the neck of his tuxedo. He wasn’t too fond of romance, more’s the pity, and so busied himself crowd-watching. Care Carrot on the other hoof, a unicorn from Manehattan, kept one ear to the opera and the other behind her, listening for word from the guards stationed in the hallway.

Celestia placed a gentle hoof on Care’s reddish-orange shoulder. “Is something bothering you?”

Care shook her head. “No, your Majesty. I’m just staying alert.”

Celestia sighed through her nose. “I guess I can’t begrudge you doing your job. Someday, though, we need to attend an opera when you’re not on duty.”

“All due respect,” Care said with a small smile, “wouldn’t I still need to help out in an emergency?”

“It’d give you an excuse to keep both eyes on the stage.” Celestia’s eyes sparkled as she beheld heartfelt vows rebuffed by tearful pleas. “Ooh, here comes the father…”

***

Earth ponies were the strongest of the tribes. Pound for pound, muscle for muscle, there was no denying they contained greater force. It was part of their innate magic connection with the land that they could be as firm as boulders.

So the earth pony guard found herself a bit surprised that she was being manhandled by a random pegasus mare.

She had been on her way to take her place at the outer doors, fulfilling the rule that guards should at least come in pairs. She’d stopped just long enough to make sure Blueblood was behaving himself. It was plenty of time for the pegasus mare to sneak up on her and lock her in a hold.

The edges of the guard’s vision became cloudy white. She was vaguely aware that the hold was designed to just knock somepony out, but one wrong move, one bit of pressure expertly applied, could snap her neck. Instead of trying to muscle her way out of the mare’s grasp, the guard opened her mouth to sound the alarm.

One bit of pressure expertly applied ended that particular call for help.

The guard’s spear clattered to the marble floor. The mare bent down to pick it up not in her hooves, but with her wings. She carried it at her side as she marched down the corridor, casting sharp glances at the numbers above the entrances to the opera hall. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as she heard an accusing voice tell her to halt.

She looked behind to see three guards trailing her. Two pegasi and a unicorn. The unicorn wore a red sash denoting him as a lieutenant. His horn glowed green, aiming a paralyzing spell at her. She was under arrest for suspicions of murder, he said, and she would do well to surrender immediately.

Her wings flared out, shooting dozens of razor blades in all directions. The unicorn erected a hasty shield before him and his fellow soldiers which, combined with their armors’ enchantments, was enough to stop the blades.

Or it would have been.

One of the pegasi took to the air in an instinctive defensive maneuver and flew above the shield. He fell to the ground in a heap, pierced by metal shards. The unicorn lieutenant cursed as he fired the paralysis spell.

The mare wasn’t standing still, though. She, too, had taken to the air along with the soldier. She dived at the two remaining guards with her hooves held forward. Her wings gave a mighty flap that reversed her flight path, but left the spear zipping forward. The lieutenant dodged the spear as the other guard met what he thought was a headlong charge.

The spear grazed the guard’s side. While he was off-balance, the mare twisted her wings. He was caught in a gust of wind that threw him against the wall. His armor absorbed the impact, allowing him the opportunity to bounce back at her. He caught her with a glancing blow to the side of her head.

She ducked under him and swirled her wings in opposite directions. He felt his feathers grabbed by separate, conflicting currents. He tried to pull them in, to dive to the floor, but there was no moving fast enough. He cried out as his wings were each wrenched out of their sockets.

As the mare kicked his fellow guard out of the air, the unicorn fired off his spell. She raised her wings, drawing up the razor-sliced guard’s body to her with a whirl of wind, where she used it as a makeshift shield. The lieutenant snorted steam and charged at her, horn lowered.

She flew low and made a loop around him. She continued in circles, faster and faster, until he was surrounded by a tornado. He gasped for breath as the oxygen was sucked away from him, and his armor glowed as it absorbed blows from high-speed dirt particles. After a moment, the blades that had bounced off his shield cut deep into his body.

He glared up at the mare who had cut a path through his troops. She gazed at him with hard, gray eyes, as if sizing him up. With a shake of her head, she picked up the spear and walked away, leaving him to bleed out in the hallway.

***

“Father, Father, hear my plea
The warrior’s life is not for me
I’ve found such love here on the land
Of tender grass and warming sand”

The singer who played the father had a gigantic moustache that squirmed over his face as if it had a mind of its own. It blew in the breeze made by his powerful voice.

“My dearest Pansy! You know I care
A life fulfilled you will not find here
An earth pony’s home is toil and pain
Come and meet Commander Hurricane!”

Care leaned towards Celestia’s ear. “Did Private Pansy and Smart Cookie really have a bittersweet love life?”

Celestia chuckled. “Most of this story is technically true, but Pansy would be mortified to find out the playwright got his and Cookie’s genders reversed.”

Care’s eyebrows shot up. “How did that happen?”

Celestia’s wings rubbed against each other. “Years blur facts. History grows old and quiet. Life moves forward, and those who care to look back can never see the whole picture.”

Care inclined her head, brushing her turquoise mane behind her shoulder. “Unless you lived it.”

Celestia shrugged. “Even I forget things.”

Caution stood from his seat as he was tapped on the shoulder. A guard leaned through the curtain of the royal box and whispered into his ear. Caution in turn whispered to Celestia, “There’s somethin’ up. Get ready t’ move.”

Celestia gave him a grave nod. She turned towards the stage with dim eyes. “Seems there’s always something.”

Care stood and faced the curtain with her horn glowing. “We’ll have a peaceful night one of these days, your Majesty.”

“Promises, promises.” Celestia shifted in her chair. “I haven’t had a peaceful night in a thousand years.”

Just as Pansy’s singer reached the song’s crescendo, a bloodcurdling screech came from the other side of the curtain. A growing murmur peppered the crowd. Celestia jumped up, her wings flared to their full majestic length. “Stay still, my little ponies!” she shouted. “But be ready to evacuate calmly and quickly!”

Care almost snorted at the thought of the opera-goers doing anything but stampede. She squared her hooves as her horn began to spark. “Should I go out and—?”

“Stay,” Celestia said. “Maybe Caution will be able to handle it.”

The curtain was torn aside. Caution lay on the ground, a nasty gash in the side of his head. The pegasus mare stood tall, her chest heaving, her muscles tight in her legs and back. Her cold gray eyes met Celestia’s sunlit purple.

Celestia’s throat made a tiny gurgle. “Hurricane?”

The pegasus lunged with the speed of lightning. Her face contorted for the first time that night, taking on the heat of rage. “Thus to all usurpers!”

The spear hit Celestia square in the chest. She stared at the wooden shaft leading into her body with a slacked jaw. Her hooves failed her and she tumbled onto her back, her wings splayed.

Far too late, Care cast a wall of fire at the attacker, backed by a scream. The pegasus flapped her wings to avoid being fried, but the flame caught the edge of her evening dress. She tore it off with barely a glance, and jumped over the fire. Her hooves and Care’s met in a grapple. Care pushed with her forelegs, but the pegasus’ were far stronger.

The unicorn guard felt herself leaning over the edge of the balcony, where a long drop would end in a bone-shattering stop. Her horn flared with a concentrated pillar of heat, which singed several of the pegasus’ hairs black. The attacker jerked back, and Care shoved her with newfound leverage.

Care pressed her advantage by following up with a series of quick punches to the pegasus’ face, chest, stomach, anything she could get an opening for. When the mare stumbled, the guard jumped back and charged up a fireball. She launched it with the intent to remove the pegasus mare from existence.

The mare beat her wings, making the air sing. A whirlwind ate the fireball and turned it into a cauldron of heat. Care winced away, taking her eyes off her opponent. Big mistake.

The pegasus flew through the wind and tackled Care right over the edge. They tumbled towards the seats below, where ponies were already trampling over each other for the exit. Care wrapped her hooves around the other pony’s neck and pulled her close. She twisted herself in the air so that the mare was below her.

They landed hard, shattering seats and scattering stragglers. Care rolled to the side as her muscles clenched up, protesting her continued consciousness. She felt blood trickle out of her nose where something had smashed into her. She tried to move her forelegs, but they were unresponsive.

The other mare stood up. Her wings hung limp, her right foreleg was clutched tight to her chest, but she stood up. She looked down at Care with a scowl, but the hard look ended with a wince. She hobbled away, joining with the crowd that cared more about running than what they were actually running from.

Care got a good look at her cutie mark: A mass of swirling, spiraling clouds, growing darker as they reached the middle. At the very center was an opening, a pale blue spot on her coat the clouds failed to cover.

The clouds churned, rolled, and whipped in Care’s swimming vision. She let her head rest against a demolished seat cushion. She looked up at the balcony where, just seconds before, she had been enjoying a quiet evening at the princess’ side.

Where Celestia was enjoying one of the few things left to her.

She closed her eyes and could hear the paramedics already attending to the princess. The wood shaft of the spear was sawed off, and she was carried away on a specialized stretcher that nopony ever expected to actually use. Care could wait. It was the princess who really needed attention.

Minutes later, they came for her. A light shined in her eyes when the medic checked her pupils. They told her to rest quiet as they ushered her through the hallways. Through her hazy, swirling, clouded vision, Care saw the edges of the halls lined with blanketed lumps. Two… three… five…

She’d seen that mare’s cutie mark before. Not on a pony, but a map.

She was loaded into an emergency carriage. Her head flopped on a limp neck. A nearby paramedic mentioned something about the hospital, about the supply of ambrosia being strained, about how he wasn’t sure there would be enough.

Caution was loaded into a separate ambulance, a series of bandages wrapped tight around his head.

Care drifted in and out. There was the squeal of a siren, the clomp of hurried hooves, the reassuring whispers of a nurse who looked far out of his element. She next awoke on a hospital bed, covered in tubes and gauze. A golden bag of precious ambrosia dripped into her bloodstream, speeding her cells’ reproduction and mending her damaged body. She would be on her hooves in a week.

But for now, she was tired. Tired and angry.

She failed the princess, she thought. She failed her solemn duty to defend the pony who was said to never need defense. She failed to protect a pony whose power was greater than any ten, twenty, thirty ponies combined. All that, and she still fell. A moment’s hesitation from Care cost too much to ever be repaid. A stupid mistake. The worst mistake.

She’d never repay the cost of her mistake, but she could try.

She would track the mare down. She would search high and low. She would travel from the Smoky Mountains to the Badlands. She would do anything and everything to find the attacker.

And then Care would end her.

The cutie mark rose in her mind as the light in her eyes faded. The swirling clouds with the empty center. A storm. A maelstrom. A hurricane.

Now, the mark of a deadmare.

***

Princess Luna sat in a hospital waiting room. She stared at the far wall, which held a tacky striped paper coating in lieu of paint. It was infinitely uninteresting, but it was far better to focus on that than…

She shuddered from horn to tail. A damp trail ran down her cheek as drops pattered on the floor. She had cried before, only a few minutes before. And a few minutes before that. And before that.

And before that.

She did not know how long it had been since they had called her from the Dream's Keep, the dream-watching tower. Hours, most likely. She had not lowered the moon, so it had literally been less than a day. It would remain less than a day until she guided it along its prescribed path.

She did not wish to do so until Celestia was ready to raise the sun.

The tears subsided again, and she dried her face. She brought her wings around to embrace her body, covering it like a blanket. Her head dipped low. She blinked the last of the water from her eyes and regarded her cutie mark.

It was a crescent moon, the same as it had been since the day she discovered it. Ancient days long past, much like the ponies she had shared them with. “What did we promise, dear sister?” she asked. “What did we promise together so long ago?”

She shifted her gaze to the black patch of hair that surrounded her cutie mark on both sides, extending to cover the rest of her rump. “Why did we make such a terrible promise?”

“Luna!” a welcome voice said. “Luna! We came as quick as we could!”

Twilight Sparkle ran into the waiting room, skidding on the smooth floor. Spike came behind her and grabbed her tail to keep her from tumbling. Twilight stood still, taking in deep breaths.

Spike spoke for the both of them. “Is she alright?”

Luna kept her face still. She spoke in a low, deliberate voice. “No. She is not.”

Twilight and Spike stood together, holding each other. They had both grown over the years. Twilight was slightly shorter than Cadenza, and Spike a bit shorter than that when on his hind legs. Spike released Twilight and crawled towards Luna. “What happened? Where is she?”

“They are operating on her, Spike.” Luna placed a hoof on his bowed head. “They did not let me see her. All we can do is wait and pray.”

She sighed at the offensively boring wallpaper. “And decide what shall become of the kingdom during her recovery.”

Twilight rubbed the end of her snout. She blinked reddened eyes. “We need to find the assassin and stop them.”

“Indeed,” Luna said, “but most of the witnesses are either dead or severely injured. Everypony else got caught up in the stampede when the attack happened.”

Twilight’s feathers ruffled. “So we wait.”

Luna gave a humorless laugh. “I am not fond of it either, Twilight. Every once in a while, there is nothing we can do.”

Twilight and Luna sat beside each other, while Spike made slow laps around the room. His hefty frame shook periodically as his long tail waved behind him. He lifted his head with a start. “I’m getting something to drink. Can I get you anything?”

Luna shook her head, but Twilight rubbed her forehead. “Coffee, please, Spike.”

Spike scurried up to the coffee maker on all fours, then lifted himself onto his hind legs. He grasped the cups and ambled back to Twilight. Just as he reached her, a pony dressed in a white coat walked into the room.

“Your Majesty?” he said to Luna. As she and Twilight stood, he bowed. “Your Highness.”

“Dr. Fine,” Luna said, “you bring news.”

“Your Majesty…” Doctor Hefty Fine cleared his throat. “Your Majesty, I do. Princess Celestia is alive.”

Luna’s neck stiffened. “As she was when she arrived. Did you bring any new news?”

The doctor took a step back as Luna loomed over him. Twilight placed a soft wing on her back, and the princess relaxed.

“Please continue,” Luna said.

“You may wish to sit down,” the doctor began.

“Speak.” Luna brushed Twilight’s wing away. “Now.”

“She is alive, but she is not stable.” Dr. Fine’s eyes flicked to Spike, then back at Luna. “We will have doctors with her twenty-four seven, I promise. We are doing everything we can to help her.”

“As you should.” Luna closed her eyes and turned away. “How bad is the damage?”

“It’s impossible, your Majesty,” Dr. Fine said, “but… her heart has been destroyed.”

Twilight, Luna, and Spike shouted simultaneously. “What?”

“She is alive, I assure you!” Dr. Fine held up his hooves. “The spear that pierced her chest went through her heart, tearing it into pieces. She should by all rights have been dead on arrival.”

He shrugged. “Her brain activity is weak but consistent. She is breathing with assistance from an oxygen pump. There is no way this should be possible, but it is. There is something keeping her alive that has nothing to do with what we’ve done here. We removed the spearhead, but now all we can do is help the flesh heal.”

The doctor bit his lip. “I was hoping you could give us a clue as to exactly what is going on.”

Twilight licked her lips. “Is there something about alicorn anatomy you guys haven’t told me?”

Luna opened her mouth, but stopped short of speaking. She took two breaths before answering. “No, Dr. Fine, I do not know what happened. Please carry on as you were and inform us of any changes in my sister.”

Dr. Fine bowed to the princesses, nodded at Spike, and hurried for the exit.

“Wait,” Spike said. “Can we see her?”

The doctor tugged his coat. “I suppose. A short visit. Follow me.”

Twilight Sparkle guzzled her coffee as she walked. “I’m thankful she’s alive, but this is way too weird. What in the wide world happened?”

Luna marched with rigid legs, her wings half-extended. Her horn sparkled with blue magic, and a tiny voice spoke directly into Twilight’s ear. “Twilight, there was a time when alicorns were impossible.”

Twilight looked over the rim of her mug. She let it settle in a waste basket once it was empty. Her horn glowed purple as she replied with the same privacy spell. “And?”

“We were a legend. A myth. A fantastical prophesy made by downtrodden ponies living in a world that wanted to kill them.” Luna shivered. “And when we came, we were a miracle.”

They walked down a staircase and through a set of heavy doors. Luna brushed her star-sparkled mane down the side of her face. “We were mysteries then, and we are no less mysteries now.”

Twilight hunched her shoulders. “I’m getting sick of all the mystery around here.”

“I as well.” Luna moved to the side as an orderly pushed an empty stretcher back the way they came. “It is said to be the honor of kings to reveal a matter, though.”

Twilight barked a laugh. She covered her mouth when the doctor shushed her. “That’s pretty rich,” she continued quietly. The edges of her eyes grew tight. “I guess… I like mysteries when they don’t involve friends.”

They stopped outside a gray door.

“There’s no pretending otherwise,” Luna said. She opened the door and stepped inside.

Celestia lay on an oversized bed. Her mouth was covered by a mask, with a tube leading up to it. She was covered with white blankets. Her coat was matted, and her skin held a worrisome pallor. A pulse monitor was hooked to the side of the bed, showing an erratic line.

“No heart, but a pulse,” Dr. Fine said. “It’s unprecedented.”

Noticing that neither of the princesses were paying any attention to him, the doctor took his leave. “Ten minutes.”

Spike came up to the side of the bed. He rested his claw-tips on the mattress. “H-hay, Princess. It’s Spike. I brought Twilight. We’re both… We’re glad to see you’re safe.”

Luna stared at her sister. She rubbed the damp tracks on her cheeks. “I never thought… it would be like this.”

Twilight couldn’t breathe. The walls closed in, growing tighter and tighter until there was nothing but she and Celestia. She wobbled.

Spike jumped up and carefully laid his hands on her shoulders. “Twilight! Easy. Just take in deep breaths, okay? Deep breaths. She’ll be alright. I promise.”

One of his tears dropped onto Twilight’s hoof and sizzled. She yelped and pulled it back. Spike flinched back, keeping his face away from her.

Her eyes focused on Spike. She wheezed. “I c-can’t—”

She lunged forward, wrapping her forelegs and wings around him. He held the sobbing princess close, careful not to burn her with his tears.

Luna stood over her sister. She looked her up and down, running a gentle spell across the surface of her body. She found no enchantments, ill-willed or benevolent. Just the potions and elixirs administered by the doctors. She leaned down and kissed Celestia on the forehead.

“Dearest sister… what are we?”

Author's Note

Here we have the latest story set in my own little world. References will be made to previous stories in the continuity, but I'll do my best to fit them in a way that doesn't require you read anything but this particular fic.

Goodbye

“She’s awake.”

Care shifted on her bed as the doctor’s voice came from outside the door. Her mane pulled until she lifted her back to let it free. She looped the mane over her shoulder and smoothed out her bed sheets to make herself the least bit presentable. When the open door revealed two princesses on the other side, she bowed her head with a quick nod.

“Your Majesty, your Highness.” Care cleared her throat. “I would bow, but—”

“No need for apologies, Captain,” Luna said. She walked to the far side of the room to give Twilight space to enter. “You are looking much better.”

Care lifted her hoof, where a single intravenous cord was feeding her painkillers. “They took me off ambrosia yesterday, once my muscles healed.” She touched the bandage on her forehead that sat just above her eye. “So, to what do I owe the visit?”

Twilight levitated a scroll from her saddlebags. A pen followed it out. “Are you ready to talk about the attack, Care? It’s fine if you aren’t but… well…”

Luna extended a wing. “We must do it eventually, but only when you are ready. Would you tell us about that night at the opera?”

Care rested against the pillow. “The guards outside told Caution what was going on, so he went out to help. A few minutes later, a pegasus mare tore the curtain away and stabbed the princess with a guard’s spear. She shouted”—Care squinted as she thought—“‘Thus to all usurpers.’”

Twilight scribbled on the scroll. She looked to Luna. “Usurpers? Is she a tribalist? Or maybe a pegasus purist?”

“It does us no credit to jump to conclusions, Twilight.” Luna inclined her head. “Can you describe the mare?”

“Yes,” Care said. “Pale blue coat. Wispy white mane and tail. Gray eyes.”

Luna tilted her head. She was silent for a long moment. “Curious. Distinguishing features?”

The tip of Care’s tongue stuck out from between her lips. “There was a deep scar on her left cheek. The skin immediately around it was bald. It looked like it came from an untreated wound.”

Luna pressed her hooves together and propped her chin up. She shook her head. “Nay. Too much of a coincidence.”

Care pulled the blanket higher. “I’m sorry?”

“Consulting with myself. Please forgive me.” Luna placed her wingtip on Twilight’s shoulder. “Would you carry on?”

“Of course,” Twilight said. She put pen to paper. “Can you describe the mare’s cutie mark, Care?”

Care’s jaw clenched tight. “Yes,” she hissed. “It was a cloud pattern, spiraling outward. Storm clouds heavy with rain. There was a small hollow in the center.”

Twilight dotted an “I.” “That’s odd. It’s a—”

“Hurricane,” Luna said. She drew up beside Care’s bed. “Captain, think very hard. How did Celestia react to the appearance of this mare?”

Care’s eyes flicked from Luna to Twilight, but the younger princess just shrugged. “With surprise,” Care said. “So shocked she couldn’t move. She said ‘Hurricane’ just before the mare stabbed her.”

Twilight nearly dropped her pen. “What? Who could shock Celestia so badly that she wouldn’t be able to react—?” She stood up. “Luna? Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen… um…”

Luna stared ahead with wide eyes. Her jaw was slack and her wings drooped. “I-it is alright, Twilight. It is a c-cliché, but it is apt.” She finished with a whisper, “I look as though I have seen a ghost.”

Care sighed. She stared up at Luna with bitter intensity. “So did Celestia.”

“Okay,” Twilight said. She combed a hoof through her mane. “Okay. But why? Whose ghost?”

“Why?” Luna rubbed her eyes. “‘Why’ is because the mare with those colors, that scar, and that cutie mark has been dead for years. There is no conceivable way for her to exist in the here and now.”

“Please.” Twilight walked around to the other side of the bed. “If something is inconceivable, that just means that nopony’s thought of it yet.” She unfurled the scroll and raised her feather pen. “Now then, who do you believe the mare is?”

“Commander Hurricane.”

Twilight’s eyes widened, and her pen did not move. “Commander Hurricane.”

“Yes.”

“The Commander Hurricane.”

“Yes.”

“The one Rainbow Dash played in the Hearth’s Warming Eve play?”

“Yes, Twilight.” Luna took a deep breath. “Yes.”

Twilight gritted her teeth. “You’re right. That’s impossible.”

“I know.” Luna bowed her head. “But impossibility has a habit of laughing in my face.”

“Okay,” Twilight said. Her eye twitched. “Let’s take a moment to pointlessly speculate on why one of the founders of Equestria would rise from the dead, murder Royal Guards, and try to put the princess on ice.” She grinned with not an ounce of humor. “Captain, what are your thoughts on the matter?”

Care shifted away from her. “I couldn’t say.”

“We value your input. Luna?” Twilight turned her false smile on the elder princess. “Care to address my growing concern for your mental state?”

Luna scowled. “It is dwarfed by mine for yours! Get a hold of yourself. We have only begun.”

“Only begun?” Twilight’s wings flared out. “Only begun! Six ponies are dead and four are hospitalized, one of them Celestia! How much farther are we going to have to go, Luna?”

“We keep going until the assassin is defeated!” Luna stood tall. The room darkened as the shadows grew around her, cloaking her in blackness. “Do not take me for a fool, Twilight, I am aware of the price ponies have already paid!”

Care’s throat went dry at the display. She turned to Twilight, who grimaced with unadulterated belligerence. After several heartbeats, the purple alicorn closed her eyes and bowed her head.

“I’m sorry,” Twilight said. “I have nothing to be angry with you about.”

The shadows faded. “We all have reasons to be angry, Twilight,” Luna said. “But most certainly not at each other. Please stay by my side. I need that magnificent brain of yours.”

Twilight smirked. “Well, I think you’re stuck with it.”

Care tapped her hooves together. “May I ask something?”

Luna and Twilight started in place. They turned to the unicorn they’d both forgotten about. “Yes, you may, Captain,” Luna said.

“Well, how could a mare from ancient history be in the here and now?” Care shrugged. “How is that possible?”

“I’d like to ask the same thing,” Twilight said.

Luna smiled. “Aren’t you the mare who told me about the time you were visited by yourself from the future?”

“But… but that…” Twilight floundered. “But that was a week, and you’re talking—”

“Hundreds of years.” Luna sucked in a long breath. “But stranger things have I seen.”

“It’s a place to start,” Twilight said. “As long as the assassin isn’t some insane history buff who’s decided she’s the reincarnation of Commander Hurricane and wants to cleanse the world of impurity.”

Luna flicked her ears forward. “I believe you will do well to follow this small lead.”

Twilight tapped a hoof on the floor. “Luna, what reason would Hurricane have for attacking Celestia? What does she want?”

“I do not know, Twilight.” Luna peered out the small window in the hospital room, which overlooked Canterlot downtown. “She never seemed to dislike us, in all the time we spent with her.” She closed her eyes. “It was she who taught us to fight.”

Twilight wrote down a few notes. “Fine. I’ll take what I know and look for clues. I know a few subject matter experts I could consult, too.”

“Thank you.” Luna hugged Twilight from the side. “I believe the matters of state shall be easier to handle knowing that this mission is in your capable hooves.”

“I want in, too,” Care said.

Both princesses looked at her in silence. Care pressed her case, “I want to help you with the mission. I’m Celestia’s personal guard. I keep her safe. Right now, that means tracking down her attacker and stopping them before they come back to finish the job. Please let me do this. At the very least, I can help… apprehend the assassin.”

“‘Apprehend,’” Luna repeated. “And bring her to justice.”

“Justice. Absolutely.” Care gave her a firm nod. “May I help?”

Luna stared into her eyes. When Care held her gaze, the princess lifted her head. “If Twilight has no objections.”

“No, I don’t,” Twilight said. “I’m sure you’ll be a big help, Care.”

“Thank you,” Care Carrot said. “I won’t let you down.”

After Twilight and Luna had left, she added under her breath, “Again.”

***

Spike was waiting outside the door. “Well? Do you have anything to go on? Can you find the attacker?”

Twilight stuffed the scroll in her bags. “Not much more than a hunch, but it’s better than nothing. I’ll be heading back to Ponyville at the end of the week. You should go today.”

Spike wrung his hands together. “What if Celestia wakes up before then?”

“Then you’ll still be one of the first to know, and you can hop on the next train right away.” Twilight rubbed his back as they and Luna walked down the hall. “I promise, she’s safe in the hospital. She wouldn’t want you worrying over her all the time.”

“No, and she wouldn’t want to be alone, either.” He stomped a foot, and his claws made marks in the floor. He hunched his shoulders and shied away from a passing nurse. “Sorry. Sorry.”

Twilight walked on. She wrapped her wing around his shoulders. “Spike, I think it’ll be good for you. You’re gonna make yourself sick if you just stay here.” She held a hoof to his lips. “Don’t say you’re abandoning her. You’re not. You can do so much more good going about your own daily life than standing outside her door sending up prayers.”

They came to the stairs. Twilight smiled as best she could. “So, are you gonna go back home?”

“Yeah.” He looked away. “Ponyville needs a librarian, I guess.”

Before going down the stairs, he waved at Luna. “Princess, I wanna apologize, but I was listening at the door.”

Luna frowned. “That is rude and dangerous, young dragon.”

“I know, but what I heard…” He shifted from all fours to his hind legs. “The mare said ‘Thus to all usurpers. I think that means you’re the next target, Princess Luna.’” He looked from one pony to the other. “Be careful. Both of you.”

He skittered down the staircase.

“I think he loves too well,” Luna said.

“It is impossible to love ‘too well,’” Twilight said. “What is that even supposed to mean?”

“It is like you said, he will make himself sick out of worry. If he stays, he’ll completely abandon his own care. He will grow weaker until he runs out of love to give, and then he’ll be a mere shell.” Luna opened a nearby window. “You were right to send him away.”

“I didn’t send him away, I sent him ahead.” Twilight rubbed her foreleg as she watched Luna climb out the window. “What are you doing?”

Luna hovered beside the hospital building. She pointed her horn at the horizon. “It’s time to do my duty.” She gasped as her eyes glowed white.

The horizon took on a purple sheen that gradually faded to orange. The stars winked out one by one. The inky blackness of space was pushed aside by the rising sun. When the Greater Light was high in the sky, the moon dipped beneath the earth.

Luna exhaled in a rush, her wings making slow, even flaps. She lowered herself to the ground and lay so that her trembling limbs could regain their strength. Twilight landed beside her.

“Celestia would be proud,” she said. “It was beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Luna said. “I-I have not practiced much besides the last few days.”

They sat together on the lawn, the sun warming them with its bright rays. Luna closed her eyes and lifted her chin. “We must decide what to tell the people. We cannot hide the fact that she was attacked.”

Twilight frowned. “What’s to tell? She’s alive. It’ll bring hope.”

“Yes.” Luna spread her wings to catch more heat. “But if the assassin were to find out that she failed in her mission, would she not try again?”

Twilight rubbed the short blades of grass with her wingtip. “I don’t feel comfortable using Celestia as bait.”

“No, I shall serve as bait, Twilight.” Luna opened her blue eyes. “Spike, I feel, was right in that regard. So, is there a way to reassure the people while dissuading the assassin?”

“Maybe—” Twilight started. She nibbled the tip of her mane. “Maybe we can tell the truth… but make it a lie.”

Luna lowered her eyebrows. “I do not follow.”

“Tell the people Celestia is alive, but tell it in a way that seems unbelievable.” Twilight framed a box with her hooves. “Tell them how well she’s doing. How fully she’s recovering. Tell them how much she misses being out and about, and how she can’t wait to get back to her duties.”

Luna sneered. “Those falsehoods would taste sour on my tongue.”

“Exactly.” Twilight leaned closer, pulling he mane out of her mouth. “It’ll be obvious you’re lying. Most people want to believe Celestia’s okay, they’ll take what you say at face value. Anypony who’s looking for a lie will notice yours right away. The assassin knows what she did. She knows that nopony who takes a spear to the chest is gonna be up and about so soon.”

Luna’s mouth dipped open. “And ‘Hurricane’ will believe the opposite of what I say.” She sniffed. “When did you become a politician, Twilight?”

Twilight shook her head. “I can’t remember if it was before or after I sold my soul to Tirek.”

Luna gave her a startled double-take.

“That was a joke, Luna,” Twilight said. “Just joking.”

***

Care knocked before entering Caution’s room. The earth pony stallion lifted his head. “Come in, or were yah gonna do that regardless?”

“Probably.” Care wheedled her intravenous drip along behind her in a cart. “We have a lead on Celestia’s attacker.”

“Great,” Caution Tape said. “Lemme know when the kids down in tracking nab the witch.”

Care pulled up a chair and sat beside his bed. She looked around his room and saw a bundle of balloons next to the window. By his bedside, a pile of cards sat in various positions. “Family visited?”

“True enough. You’d ’ave thought oi stopped an army of diamond dogs singlehandedly, from the hero’s welcome oi got.”

Care smiled. “I thought you did that daily.”

“Naw, only for special occasions.” He narrowed one eye. “Speakin’ of which, wot’s the occasion for visiting me?”

“Like I said, we have a lead on the attacker.” Care crossed her forelegs. “I want you on my team when we track her down.”

Caution yawned. He winced and held his bandaged head. “Oog. You mean now, don’t yah?”

“As soon as we’re on our hooves,” Care said. She rolled her shoulders. “You don’t wanna come.”

“They offered me three months leave, not includin’ hospital time.” Caution put his hooves behind his head. “After the beating we took, oi’m inclined to accept.”

Care’s teeth snapped together. “You can’t just give up—!”

“Oi ain’t givin’ up!” Caution sat up. His eyes crossed from the swirling in his head, but he soon found his balance. “The princess is alive an’ safe. That’s our job, Captain. Now oi’m gonna take some well-earned time off an’ spend it with moi family. You’d do best followin’ moi lead.”

“The job isn’t done,” Care said. “Celestia is down, and it’s up to us to make sure she gets the chance to get back up.”

“No it ain’t.” Caution lowered himself back into his bed and drew up his covers. “Oi’ll come back when the time comes, but for now, moi part’s over.”

“I’m not gonna rest until the assassin is dead meat, Caution.”

“You’re not gonna rest until you get yourself killed.” Caution put his hoof on Care’s shoulder. “Don’t do this to yourself. Don’t go provin’ the ponies right wot say a soldier’s job is to die.”

Care scowled. “Isn’t it?”

Caution shook his head. “No. A soldier’s job is to make sure that people get to live peacefully, and the bad guys get put in their place.” He let his hoof drop. “Here in Equestria, at least. We’re here to protect.”

“I failed that mission, Caution.” Care tested her horn before grabbing a cup of water with her hooves. “I hesitated. I let the assassin—this ‘Hurricane’ person—hurt the ruler of our nation, and, and a friend. And…” She shut her eyes tight. “And she killed the ponies in our squad. She murdered them outright. How can you stand for that?”

“Oi can’t. And oi won’t.” Caution shuddered. “But oi ain’t ready to go back yet, Captain. Sometimes all yah can do is sit back an’ pray that the Creator intercedes.”

He flashed pearly white teeth. “Oi’m gonna get moiself recharged and then come out with hooves swingin’. Don’t be worryin’ ’bout that.”

Care laughed. She slugged his shoulder and stood. “I’ll see you at the funeral, then?”

“Aye.” Caution rolled onto his side. He blinked moisture from his eyes. “Full dress uniform. The works. Our mates deserve all oi have tah give.”

Care sniffed. She walked out of the room, failing every attempt to wipe the gnarled frown from her face. “They do, Caution. And Hurricane will deserve everything I give her, too.”

Caution covered up his head with his blankets. “Don’t do anything stupid, Captain. Please.”

***

Crowds lined the streets on a breezy, early-autumn day. Red, yellow, and orange leaves drifted down with every step of the hoof. A few foals ran and played somewhere behind their parents. Their laughter carried through the otherwise quiet air.

Care’s face was stone. Unmoving, unexpressive, solid. Her armor was polished to a shine, down to the last rivet. The purple sash of her captain’s rank was draped over her shoulder and across her chest. Her orange coat and turquoise mane were hidden under the illusory white and blonde of the Royal Guard.

She marched before six caskets in silence, save for the rattling of her armor. Caution followed close behind her, pulling the caskets with his full might. Bringing up the rear of the procession was Windblown, the pegasus guard who had escaped the assassination with dislocated wings. He carried the Banner of the Alicorn Sisters with one foreleg as they walked through the streets of Canterlot.

Only three of the nine remained, and barely that.

Caution flicked a switch on his yoke, separating the front three caskets from the rest. He carried them across a field, to where three fresh graves had been dug. Luna waited for him there.

“Each of these coffins holds an earth pony soldier; the brave souls who fell defending their princess and their country. They will be honored by their families, and live on in stories told by those that loved them. May they one day be reunited.” Her horn glowed as she lowered them into the graves. “Sons and daughter of the earth, return to the clay from whence you came. Bring life to the land you worked, that others may follow in your stead.”

Windblown stood by two of the caskets. With the banner still in his grip, he nudged his burden forward with his forehead. He came to a series of stone slabs, stacked in a pyramid. Luna flew over, and again gripped the coffins with her magic.

“Each of these coffins holds a pegasus soldier; the brave souls who fell defending their princess and their country. They will be respected by their fellows, and followed in their wing beats. May they forever fly, until the day they return.” She set the caskets down and lit the pyre. “Sons of the sky, return to the wind you were born into. Fly free and remind us how much we need each other.”

The caskets and the bodies within burned, and their ash filled the sky. Luna retreated from the altar, turning to the final pony.

They walked together a ways, pulling the final coffin between them. They were followed by the other soldiers from a distance. They came to a series of cave opening in the side of the mountain.

Care pulled the casket into one cave. Her horn glowed the same pink as her eyes, lighting the way. She and the princess found an alcove marked with a family seal.

“This coffin holds a unicorn soldier; the brave soul who fell defending his princess and his country. He will be honored by history, and remembered throughout the age. May he lie in eternal sleep, until the time when all awake.” Luna pushed the coffin into the recess. “Son of the sun and moon, enter your rest. Light the sky with your warmest dreams, and fill our hearts with the fullest of hopes.”

They left the cave. Caution rolled a large stone over the entrance, ending the ceremony with the resounding crash of rock on rock. The guards lined up before Luna and bowed.

“Please stand, my little ponies.” Luna waited until they were upright. At that point, she bent her knee and lowered her own head. “It is to you I must give reverence. To all of you. Without you, my sister would have fallen that night.” Her lips trembled as water dripped from the corners of her eyes. “Thank you. So much.”

Care felt a lump form in her throat. “Th-that’s why we’re here, your Majesty.”

Luna took a calming breath. “Caution, Windblown, your leave begins now. Care, I think there is somewhere else you need to be.”

The crowds had already dispersed by the time the guards reached the city. The returned to the barracks, removed their armor, and exchanged a final embrace.

They went their separate ways.

***

Bronze parts clattered on the tabletop. Gears, levers, springs, casings, screws. Ticking was heard all around as an earth pony worked diligently at his latest creation. He gripped a screwdriver between his lips, making small adjustments here and there. He rubbed oil onto the joints with a cloth, then sat back.

“Come on then, my little beauty,” he said to his device, “walk.”

His brown hoof wound the key on the back of the machine. He set it gently on the table and released it. It ticked and tocked as a thin leg moved forward at a painfully slow pace. It touched the table, and another of its four legs made the journey forward.

He tousled his own unruly, dark brown mane. “Maybe there’s too many teeth in the one gear. Or too few in the other. Maybe I got them switched around.” He nudged the device with his nose. It tottered on two legs for a second, then righted itself. “Gyroscope works just fine. I’d say that makes it a success.”

He lowered a pair of dark goggles over his eyes and lifted a blowtorch. “And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, there’s no success that can’t be made better with a second draft!”

There was a knock at the door. Dinky Doo poked her head in. “Mister Turner? There’s somepony here to see you.”

“Tell them I’m in a meeting,” Time Turner said. He opened the gas nozzle of the torch. “Tell them I’m speaking with some very important people.”

Dinky narrowed her eyes. “More important than a princess?”

“No… no, probably not.” He pushed up his goggles and turned to her. He flicked a piece of flint across a rock absently. “What? Why’d that come to mind?”

Dinky pushed the door open all the way, revealing the clock shop where she worked as a cashier. “Because the pony that wants to see you is Princess Twilight Sparkle.”

The flint scratched one last time. “Princ—”

The torch ignited from the spark. Time Turner held it away from his body with a yelp. “Shoot! Blast! Cuss darn you—!”

Dinky’s horn glinted as she turned the gas valve off from across the room. “You need to be more careful, Mister Turner.”

“You don’t say, you really don’t say.” He set the blowtorch down and hunched over his table. “Did the princess say why she paid a visit?”

Dinky shrugged. “Just that it was urgent.”

“Ah. Urgent visits are always the most pleasant.” He gripped a gear between his hooves. “Nopony just takes their time anymore. Nopony just takes it easy.”

His device reached the edge of the table and stopped. The ticking resumed as it switched directions.

“Time Turner,” Twilight Sparkle said from behind Dinky, “did I come at a bad, well, time?”

“Of course not, of course not.” He turned his chair around with a plastic smile on his face. “Tell me, what brings Ponyville’s favorite princess to my humble little clock shop?”

Twilight Sparkle wore a warm saddle to keep off the autumn chill. She walked into the back room of Time Turner’s shop and sat in the middle of the floor. “In a phrase, time travel.”

Time Turner grinned. “Begging your pardon, your Highness, but from what I hear, you’re the only pony in this room who’s time traveled.”

“Turner, do us both a favor and drop the attitude.” Twilight pointed at him. “I know about what you did as a Knight of Harmony. Are you really going to sit there and deny all the work you’ve done—?”

“Absolutely,” Time Turner said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

“Actually, Mister Turner, I was just about to close up shop for the night.” Dinky crossed one lanky foreleg over the other. “If that’s alright with you.”

A clock on the wall of his workroom, one of many, chimed a “Cuckoo! Cuckoo!” as it struck five. Time slid out of his chair and waved a hoof. “Go on home, Dinky. I’ll lock up. Tell your mother I said hullo.”

Dinky smiled, bowed to Twilight, and slipped out the front door.

“That beanpole of a girl finally learned to stop tripping over her own hooves, but hasn’t quite managed not to trip over Pipsqueak,” Time Turner said. “Bless their hearts.”

Twilight’s cheek pulled back in a half-smile, which disappeared almost instantly. “What they hay is the blowtorch for? I could understand a welder, but—”

“None of your business.” Time shoved his chair up to the table, causing his device to wobble. It creaked to a halt once the spring was fully unwound. “In fact, I don’t think any of my life is your business, and if it is, it does not belong to you exclusively. I would be much obliged if you would please step out.”

Twilight forced a groan of exasperation back down into her chest. With some effort, it didn’t come out. “I need your help, Turner. It’s a matter of life and death.”

He scooped the various baubles off of the table and into a plastic box. He carried it over to a shelf and shoved it into place. “Well, that’s a matter in and of itself. Whose life and whose death are we talking about?”

“Princess Celestia’s,” Twilight said.

“Oh.” Time Turner’s forelegs fell limp at his sides as he sat beside the shelf. “Oh, well that’s—”

He rubbed his head and pulled out a chair. He indicated another on the far side of the table. “Very well, you’ve got my attention. Spell it out. What happened?”

“There was an assassination attempt. Her injuries aren't public yet, so don’t tell anypony.”

Time Turner blew a long breath through his lips. “Yes, because when you think of ponies who blab, I’m the first to come to mind.”

“I wasn’t saying…” Twilight rubbed her temples. “Never mind. The thing is, she’s alive, but she’s hurting. We need to track down the assassin before she strikes again.”

Time Turner lifted a wry eyebrow. “Time is of the essence.”

“Don’t be a smart-aleck.”

“I wasn’t. I was being candid.” Time leaned on the table. His hoof bumped his walking machine, causing it to wobble. “I want to help Celestia. Creator knows I owe it to her. But I’m not a knight anymore, Princess. I can’t do it. I can’t just go gallivanting off.”

“I’m not asking that.” Twilight brought her hooves together. “I just want to consult with you in an area of your expertise. And believe me, you’re the expert here.”

Time Turner looked around his workroom. Clocks in various states of disrepair lined the walls, some in the process of restoration, some cannibalized for parts. He settled on the one functioning cuckoo clock, ticking away. “What do you want to know?”

“We have a small lead. It might be nothing, but right now…” Twilight shrugged. “We think the assassin might be a time traveler. Is it possible to travel into the future?”

Time chuckled. “Of course it is. As a matter of fact, we do it all the time. We’re all on a one-way trip to the future, Sparkle.”

“I mean magically—”

“Magically assisted, of course.” Time’s chair groaned as he pushed it back. “Theoretically, you can go as far forward as you want.”

Twilight’s shoulders slumped. “Even a thousand years?”

Time Turner’s back went stiff. The hairs on his back stood up. “It is very much not recommended. You… can’t go back.”

“Huh?” Twilight said. “I went back in time.”

“Yes. Yes you did.” Time flicked his tail. “How much power did that take?”

Twilight gulped. “Too much.”

“For how long did you stay before being ripped back to the future?”

“About thirty seconds.”

Time Turner nodded slowly. He stood up and walked around the room. He gave one broken clock more scrutiny than it really needed. “That’s the thing. You can’t change the course of time. You can interrupt it. You can speed it up. Slow it. You can fudge it a little. You can’t turn it back on itself without getting hurt.”

Time bowed his head. “You got hurt, didn’t you? How far back did you go?”

Twilight licked her lips. “A week.”

“Seven days.” Time’s ears bent low. “And when you were pulled back, you aged, didn’t you? One year for each of those days.”

Twilight cleared her throat. She cleared it again before she could get the words out. “Yes.”

“Did anypony notice?”

“No,” Twilight said. “I wasn’t… I didn’t look my best.”

“But when you got cleaned up, you noticed.” He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “You were—what?—seventeen?”

“Yeah.” Her lips trembled. She took a deep breath in through her nose and let it out through her mouth. “It was kinda a shock. I got over it.”

“And you hid it.” Time smirked. “Makeup and illusion spells are wondrous things, are they not?”

Twilight Sparkle’s lip twitched. “You got hurt, too, didn’t you?”

Time Turner ignored her. He continued around his shop in a loop, scratching his cheek. “So to answer your original question: Yes, it’s possible to travel a thousand years into the future with a powerful enough spell. Or device. It’s not recommended, because you’ll leave behind everything you ever thought you knew.”

Twilight stretched her wings. “What could drive a pony to do something like that?”

“Terrible things, Princess,” Time Turner said. “Blasted terrible things.”

Twilight stood up. She folded her wings against her saddle and backed toward the door. “Well, thank you for your time, Turner. You have been helpful, despite yourself.”

As she reached for the door handle, Time Turner spoke up. “Princess Sparkle—”

He wound up his walking machine and set it wobbling across the tabletop. “If you need anything else… if it’ll help Celestia… please let me know. I do want to help her.”

Twilight tilted her head with a small smile. “I’ll keep in touch.”

Author's Note

Here we start to slowly, surely meet the members of the team. I'm not above alternate interpretations of characters.

Flavor

Notorious flirt. Rarity didn’t much appreciate the moniker, but she wore it well enough. She couldn’t be said to ever lack a kind word, or a genuine compliment, or an appreciative reply. Certainly, she found herself giving and receiving most of such with those of the masculine persuasion, but she could be forgiven her preferences. Couldn’t she?

She could, the mare lounging on a couch decided. Her horn glowed as she raised a delicate glass to her lips and took a dainty sip. The other guests at the soirée also sat on lounges in a circle around a central food platter. Fancypants, the Mayor of Canterlot, was to her right. Fleur de Lis, who was looking as thin as ever, sat to her left. A few other guests of note—the owner of Barnyard Bargains, a rich viscount from the mountainside, a few hangers-on of the same—occupied seats at random around the room. A thousand generous words floated through the mare’s head as she searched for a pony to give them to.

Then Prince Blueblood spoke up, and the mare on the lounge wished very much to not be Rarity at the moment.

“What of you, Lady Rarity? I would have thought you Element Bearers would be tracking that vicious assassin down.” The blond-maned prince’s beverage had been diluted to the tenth degree by water sometime in the last few hours. He had still somehow managed to lose what little subtlety he possessed in the first place.

The mare who regretted being Rarity sighed, brushing her purple curl out of the way of another sip of juice. “As difficult as it may be to believe, your Highness, I’m afraid I’m not the first pony the Guard looks to when recruiting adventurers.”

That earned her a general chuckle around the circle of ponies. Rarity was a beautiful mare, there could be no mistake made, but she wasn’t the most physically fit. She kept herself healthy, and that was the extent of her expedition in exercise.

The viscount munched on a cheese cracker hors d’oeuvre. “He has a point. It was only a few years ago you were featured in just about every headline as the Knight of Generosity.”

“While that may be true, Viscount”—she briefly fumbled over his name. Some sort of stringed instrument?—“Viscount Dulcimer, it sadly is not the case nowadays. Things change. While the connection between my friends remains strong, our powers cannot be said to be the cure-all, end-all for every problem that Equestria faces.”

“Surely you could do something,” Blueblood muttered into a glass of almost pure water.

“Give the mare a break, husband,” Fleur said, hissing out the last word in a thick Fancy accent. “Let the lady be and push on with the business.”

“I agree. Let’s talk about our new business venture.” Fancypants smiled. “We should be careful about asking ‘what more can you do,’ lest it be asked of us, also.”

Blueblood narrowed his eyes and spoke no more.

The mare silently thanked the two of them for forcibly removing her from the spotlight. There was a time to shine, and there was a time to pass barely noticed. She reclined more comfortably and faded into the background of the conversation. She paid the words no mind unless they were to her directly. The words weren’t why she was there.

She was there for the emotions.

There was a general excitement from most of the ponies there, mostly business owners and investors. It tasted like bubbles in the air, popping on the tip of her horn. There was a constant feeling of frustration from Blueblood as he struggled to keep up despite the fog in his brain. That tasted, no surprise, like alcohol; tart and musty. A similar, duller annoyance rose from Fleur as she beheld her husband’s antics.

But there was a subtler strain running through the gamut. A hint of an almost-flavor, contained and repressed. The mare who called herself Rarity shut her eyes tight as she tried to discern its source. It had spice. It had vigor.

“Lady Rarity?”

The mare’s eyes snapped open.

Filthy Rich of Barnyard Bargains gave off an aura of light, silky concern. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m sorry, I was just…” The mare cursed herself for neglecting to keep up appearances as she scrambled for an excuse. “I was just trying to imagine what the project would look like.” That was what artists did, she told herself, they visualized.

“That’s where my construction company comes in, Miss Rarity.” Viscount Dulcimer’s horn glowed as he lifted schematics into the air. “A four-story building is already under construction for our indoor marketplace. Once it’s done, all we need to do is move your respective stores in and rent out the rest of the space to anypony who cares to join up.”

“A marketplace, raking in the cash rain or shine. In downtown Canterlot, no less.” Blueblood smirked at Fleur. “Not a bad investment, if I do say so myself.”

Fleur shrugged. “It’s your cash to invest, husband.”

The mare faded out of the conversation, focusing once more on the emotions. This time, she was careful to at least look like she was listening.

There! The spice. The vigor. The faintest hint of ill will. The anticipation of something horribly wrong going horribly right. Again, she couldn’t immediately discern the source, but the target?

Blueblood, just as suspected. Someone wanted something very bad to happen to him. Someone was looking forward to that certain something, maybe even catalyzing the awfulness into action. But who?

Fancypants was Blueblood’s buddy from their school days, perhaps the prince’s only real friend. He put up with his antics regularly. That was the history the mare knew. On closer inspection of the stallion’s disposition, she found only the bubbling excitement of a dinner party, and a refreshing splash of interest in Viscount Dulcimer’s project.

Fleur de Lis, wife of Blueblood. The result of a marriage of convenience, some said, in which his bank roll was enriched and her status elevated. Other said it began in love, but soon soured like old milk. Either way, she harbored the most open negative feelings about the prince. But there was no spice. No edge. It wasn’t her.

Filthy Rich was awash in a sour field of self-disappointment, hidden beneath his outer wall of genial interest. The servants were focused on their duties, leaving little room for diabolical plans. The other prospective business partners were checked off one by one as the mare calling herself Rarity examined them.

Then she focused on the viscount and found the source.

She lifted her perception from the emotional layer to the visible. She saw how even in the midst of his presentation, his eyes kept flickering from the blueprint to Blueblood. The spice intensified when a third object intersected his gaze: An unopened bottle. The bottle being saved for the toast. Could it be poisoned?

“In conclusion,” Viscount Dulcimer said as the mare focused on his voice, “Prince Blueblood is correct when he says the indoor marketplace is a wise investment. Shall we drink to a successful business venture?”

The servants came and poured glasses for all those present. The mare looked into her own. Was the viscount planning to poison all of his business partners? It made no sense. The flavor of his ill will was directed only at the prince.

She turned her eyes to Dulcimer and watched him down his whole glass, a smirk on his face. Immunity was possible, but highly unlikely. It didn’t add up for him to be the only investor still alive. He would be caught instantly.

Blueblood swirled his drink around. He brought the glass to his lips.

The mild spice running from the viscount to the prince jumped from bell pepper to habanero. The hair on the back of the mare’s neck stood up. It was time to either act or watch a pony die.

She coiled her legs beneath her, leaped over the hors d’oeuvres table, and knocked the glass out of his magic grip. The room went silent as everypony stared at her.

She ducked her head and grinned. “W-would you believe me if I said it was p-poisoned?”

The door slammed open. A disheveled mare walked in, one with a pure white coat and a purple mane. Her frown was intensified by the waved of boiling anger rolling towards the mare who called herself Rarity. Worst of all, the two of them seemed to be wearing the same dress.

“That mare,” the newcomer said with an accusatory hoof, “is an imposter!”

It was at that point that the mare who called herself Rarity noticed several servants carrying hidden blades underneath their coat sleeves. She also noted that calling herself Rarity was a moot point.

The disheveled Rarity stalked towards the accused. “She drugged me with some sort of magic and left me in a closet! A broom closet! Arrest her at once!”

The servants looked at Blueblood, waiting for him to make the call. The prince’s already foggy mind had no hope of coping with the circumstances. “Um…”

“Grab her!” the viscount helpfully supplied.

The servants rushed her. With no other options in sight, the mare sprouted wings from her back and flew to the ceiling. They were thin, translucent, membranous wings. Once at the top, she flipped over and grabbed the plaster with cloven, claw-like hooves.

The real Rarity shrieked. “Dear darling Creator, it’s a changeling!”

“Kill it!” Blueblood said, some semblance of wit reentering his head. “Bring it down!”

The changeling dove down through the doors, passing by Rarity along the way. She ducked as it flew overhead, its disguise disappearing in a burst of green fire.

The servants chased after the changeling. Once they had gone, Rarity put on a smile and turned to the other businessponies in the room. “I trust the meeting went well?”

The changeling ran into a branching corridor. Once it was out of sight, it climbed up to the ceiling. The servants following it failed to look up when they rushed past. Its chest heaved while it waited a few moments before dropping down. It raced through the Blueblood wing of Canterlot Castle, searching for an out-of-the-way room to take a new face.

It was a stroke of genius to use a pony whose whole life had been recorded by the media. Plenty of openly-available history. That part of the plan went exceedingly well. That said, next time the changeling needed to take more care in making sure the pony wasn’t a light sleeper.

The clack of armor sounded throughout the castle as the general alarm was sounded. The changeling sighed in relief as a hideaway came into view: A broom closet that wasn’t the one Rarity had been napping in. Just as the changeling reached it, a shout came from the end of the hallway.

“Changeling!”

A spear hit the wall right beside the changeling. It yelped and took off at a full gallop, its wings beating and its hooves scraping the marble floor. Its multifaceted eyes widened. It was heading away from most of the escape routes it had planned out if the operation went south.

The air shimmered as a fireball zipped past.

The changeling narrowed its eyes. There was only one viable exit strategy. It turned down one corridor and jumped straight at a stained-glass window. The glass rattled as the changeling’s body collided with it, and the creature was thrown to the ground.

There wasn’t nearly enough time to craft a new face before the changeling was surrounded by spear points. “What are you waiting for?” Blueblood said from the rear. “Stab it! Don’t let it get away!”

The changeling swallowed the phlegm building up in its throat. It turned to one of the guards. “Th-the gig’s up, Bugly! They’ve g-got us!”

The guards turned as one to face “Bugly.” With their attention elsewhere, the changeling zipped out from among them like an arrow from a bow. It flew through the corridors of the castle in a mad rush, not paying much attention to where it was going.

Its journey took it to a long, thin bridge between two towers, a skyway. At one end, two unicorn guards and a pegasus were barring the way. The changeling was flying so fast that it didn’t come to a stop until it was in the middle of the skyway. A quick glance said that yes, the glass enclosing the bridge was thicker here than at the stained-glass windows.

The skyway was soon blocked off at the other end by more soldiers, backed by the prince. The changeling lowered itself to the floor and spread its forelegs wide. “I s-surrender.”

Most of the soldiers stopped their forward rush, though they kept their weapons and horns trained on the changeling. Prince Blueblood, however, didn’t get the memo. He shouldered a golden-armored guard aside and lit his horn. He fired a blast of half-focused, half-raw magic energy at the changeling, which spiraled down the skyway in a tornado of crackling lightning.

Instinct took over. The changeling leapt over the maelstrom of murderous energy, letting it glide past unhindered. It continued to the three soldiers on the other side. The leftmost unicorn’s armor glowed bright yellow as its built-in shield enchantment worked to save the guard from being torn apart by the drunken spell. Metal shrieked and hair singed as the wayward spell exploded in a ring of light and force.

The ring cut through the top and bottom of the skyway, severing it from the tower. Thanks to the designers, the bridge was supported fully by its connection to the far side, though it still wobbled in the force of the destruction. The two unicorn guards slumped to the ground as smoke billowed out of their end of the corridor, produced by melting glass, burning carpet, and the aftereffects of a crazed spell impacting a sturdy enchantment. The pegasus jumped through the smoke.

The guard’s hoof glowed, his armor’s enchantment adding an extra boost to his strength. The changeling ducked the punch, then skittered between the guard’s legs. It held its breath as it moved through the heavy smoke, seeking shelter on the far side.

It found shelter in the form of a quiet guest bedroom, long unoccupied save for a weekly cleaning. The clank of armor through the castle was slower, cautious, searching. They’d find the room soon enough, but the changeling would be gone before then.

It looked in a mirror and beheld a nightmare. A nightmare to ponies, at any rate. Black armored exoskeleton, blue-green multifaceted eyes, long fangs, a scraggy horn…

It lifted its hooves to its face. Holes bored through its forelegs. Its wings were torn and perforated. Its ears were low and scratched. It took a few steps away, its hooves close together as though it was afraid to do anything besides just inch backward. It kept its head low and its shoulders hunched.

Its horn sparked with green fire that gradually covered its entire body. When the flame extinguished, a new pony stared at the reflection. White coat, bleached blond mane, pink eyes, color-wheel cutie mark. A stallion of little merit and less fame.

He dressed himself with a coat he found discarded in the servant’s quarters. He took a pass through the kitchen, took a tray piled high with food, and walked calmly through the castle. If anypony noticed him, they quickly ignored him. The one or two guards that questioned him bought his ready story immediately, even giving him an escort should he be accosted by roaming changelings.

Or maybe they were following him to make sure his story checked out. Either way, they let him go in the end.

He delivered the food cart and headed straight for the exit. He passed by an argument near the doors, between Blueblood and Viscount Dulcimer.

“I was just attacked by a changeling in broad daylight!” the prince said. “I am in no condition to continue the meeting!”

“But—” the viscount raised a hoof as the prince thundered off, accompanied by several guards.

Dulcimer sat down beside the window the changeling had smacked into. Unlike the windows in the great hall, this did not have a scene from history inscribed on it. It was just patterns and colors.

The viscount was a sturdy, strong stallion, not quite as well-built as the prince, but close. His pink coat might have looked silly if he didn’t carry it proudly. His purple beard was fashioned into a goatee, and his mane was pulled back in a ponytail. He turned to the disguised changeling as he passed. “What do you suppose the changeling wanted?”

“B-beg pardon, yer Grace,” the changeling said, “I don’t fink I know all o’ wot’s goin’ on. Just been passin’ through when th’ alarm wus sounded.”

He hesitated a moment before carrying on. Viscount Dulcimer spoke up again. “What’s your name?”

“Bl—” The changeling cleared its throat. “Crisper, yer Grace.”

The viscount smirked. “Don’t mind me too much. I remember what it was like to be a servant. Viscount isn’t a hereditary title, after all.” He turned back to the window. “Fascinating cutie mark, by the way.”

The changeling’s eyes subconsciously went to the viscount’s cutie mark. An open fob watch. “I ’spect just ’bout every mark has somefin important be’ind it, yer Grace.”

Dulcimer went back to watching the window. “Crisper” trotted away at a polite pace, resisting the urge to dig into the emotional flavor of the air. Even a slight use of such magic might cause suspicion during a ponyhunt.

The changeling slipped out from underneath the guards’ collective nose. The street in front of the castle bustled as reporters got wind of a new story breaking. Questions were flying about whether the attempt by a changeling on Blueblood’s life was connected to the near-assassination from earlier that week.

The changeling swam through the reporters, stood on the edge of the street, and clamped onto a passing carriage. He slid in through the door and took a seat across from a middle-aged mare. “It’s D-Dulcimer, Chief,” he said. “There’s n-no evidence, but the emotions c-came from him. H-he’s the one who w-wants Blueblood dead.”

The curtains in the carriage were drawn, enclosing both occupants in shadows. The mare crossed her light-gray forelegs. “Well, at least we know who to watch.”

She sniffed the air. “Were you on fire, Blankety?”

“I’m a ch-changeling, it happens.” Blankety Blank tapped his hooves together. “S-so, my cover’s blown.”

“And how.” The Chief rubbed her eyes. “We can’t exactly let you jump right back in after that.” She brushed her purple-white striped mane out of her eyes. “What exactly happened back there?”

“M-my face pony woke up, just after I kn-knocked a cup of poison from Blueblood’s hoof.” He shrugged. “They p-put two and t-two together. I t-tried to surrender, since m-my cover was blown re-regardless, but Blueblood wasn’t taking any p-prisoners.”

“So you got out.” The Chief leaned forward and patted his shoulder. “You did good. You saved Blueblood’s life and uncovered the pony responsible.”

“I should have found some evidence, stopped him for good,” Blank said. “Now what?”

The carriage stopped. The Chief opened the door and led them into the back door of the Canterlot Police Department building. “Now we get you the heck out of here until things cool down. Until the ‘changeling attack’ becomes a fluke memory.”

A pony ran up with a folder tucked under their wing. “Twilight Velvet, Chief! Canterlot Health just reported a missing quart of ambrosia.”

Police Chief Twilight Velvet took the folder and flipped through the pages. “Timeframe?”

“Within the last couple weeks, ma’am.”

“Right next to the assassination attempt. That’s an odd coincidence if there is one.” Twilight Velvet shrugged. “Follow the thread. It might lead us to the whereabouts of this ‘Hurricane’ pony.”

Twilight motioned for Blankety to enter her office. She closed the door behind him. “I’m gonna get you out of Canterlot, but I’m not sending you far. Ponyville’s pretty quiet right now, not a whole lot of snoops around. My daughter will give you a nice place to get settled in.”

Blankety Blank nodded, shuffling from hoof to hoof.

“I recommend you treat this as a vacation, Blank,” Twilight said. She sat behind her desk and pointed him to a chair. “Any work you do might just draw attention. I’d rather not lose my best asset.”

“I-I—” Blank rubbed his short mane. “I’ve never had a v-vacation before, Chief.”

Twilight Velvet sighed. She activated the coffee machine she kept in her office. “Then think of this as a learning experience. A starting line to living like other ponies.”

She poured them both a mug. “Besides, my daughter knows a dragon who can teach you a lot about being a pony.”

Blankety Blank murmured contentedly as he guzzled his coffee. His eyes snapped open. “Wait, what?”

***

It was long after hours when Time Turner heard a knock at his front door. He stumbled out of his workroom, welding goggles pushed up on his forehead. “We’re closed!”

The knock insisted.

Time unlatched the locks on his door, mumbling all the while. “Oh, ‘closed’ just means ‘I need to knock harder,’ is that it? ‘After hours’ is another way of saying ‘everypony’s welcome,’ is that right? Well, let me tell you—”

He opened the door, revealing two mares covered from head-to-tail in mud and smelling of much worse. He stumbled back. “Um. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“An opportunity to help Celestia,” the taller mare said. On closer inspection, Turner realized that she was an alicorn. A specific alicorn. “You have a materials lab, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Time Turner said after a second. “Hardness testers, heat-treat ovens, even a spectrometer. Why?”

“We’ve got a couple of artifacts to examine,” the shorter mare said. She scratched her mane, causing mud clumps to fall to the ground. “We can’t find out too much about them until we know what they’re made of.”

Time Turner licked his lips and held his breath. “My lab is specifically for metals.”

“That’s what made me think of you,” Twilight Sparkle said. She levitated the wing blade out of her saddlebags. “They’re small throwing knives based on an old design.”

“An ancient design,” the shorter pony added.

Time Turner moved to the side to let them in. “If it’ll help Celestia, you’re certainly welcome to use my lab. I’d like to… request you get yourselves cleaned up, first. Shower’s upstairs and to the right.”

The shorter pony looked down. “Oh yeah. I guess we’re kinda dirty. A little.”

The mud on Twilight Sparkle’s face cracked as she frowned. “I don’t think we have time for—”

“There’s always time to keep me from vomiting on my instruments,” Time Turner said. “Upstairs, shoo.”

The short pony pulled off her pith helmet, revealing the grayscale mane beneath. “I’ll save the hoofshake for later, but I wanna say it’s a real honor to meet you, Turner. You’re a legend with the Knights.”

Time Turner’s ears flopped down. “Thank you, but legends often differ from facts, Miss…”

Twilight stepped in. “Time Turner, this is A.K. Year—”

Daring Do pushed her aside. “Daring Do, in the flesh.”

Twilight threw her legs up. “Right. Why do we even have secret identities in the first place? Who needs ’em?”

Time’s eyebrows shot up. “Daring? As in the actual Daring Do?”

Daring Do crossed her forelegs. “So you’ve heard of me?”

“You might say that.” He took a deep breath to say something further, but gagged on the Everfree air. “Ugh. Daring Do in my shower is not quite as sexy as fan fiction led me to believe.”

Daring stared at him with wide eyes. She burst out laughing.

Twilight felt a headache coming on. “Well, both of us need to get cleaned up. You start setting up the devices, Turner.”

She walked swiftly up the staircase, Daring Do on her heels. Time Turner watched them go, before entering his workroom to clean up a few loose tools.

***

Evening fell over a half-finished building in Canterlot. Construction crews packed away their tools, shut of the cranes, and left for home in one rush-hour mass. Only the forepony stayed behind to lock up. He was about to seal the last gate when he was tapped on the shoulder. “Hay, this area’s off-limits.”

“I don’t know about that,” Viscount Dulcimer said. “I’m the owner.”

The forepony jumped. “Oh, boss! Didn’t know you were coming by.”

The viscount rested his foreleg around the forepony’s shoulders. “I didn’t either until earlier today. I’m a little bit curious about how the construction’s going on.” He looked behind himself. “Coming, Scuttlebutt?”

Scuttlebutt, the viscount’s personal aide, was a short, thin pony. When he smiled, it often reminded ponies of a rat about to eat cheese. On that note, he smiled altogether too often for most ponies’ taste. “Yes sir.”

The forepony puffed his chest out. “We got a lot done today. First two floors are good, just need to move the stores in now. Windows need installing on the third floor, and the iron skeleton’s just about finished up top.”

They walked towards a set of stairs. Dulcimer slowed down. “Pardon me, Forepony, but my assistant has a bad knee. Are any of the elevators active?”

“B, C, and F are, boss.” The forepony pushed a button, causing magical currents to open the elevator doors. “Running on local siphons right now, but we’re hooking it up to the grid in a couple weeks.”

“Excellent,” Dulcimer said. “Come along, Scuttlebutt.”

The three ponies piled onto the elevator. Viscount Dulcimer pushed the button for the top floor. “I hope you don’t mind. I like to take every opportunity I can to see Canterlot at night.”

“No problem, boss.” The forepony sat down. “We’ll start the tour on the top floor is all.”

“What’s your name, Forepony?” Dulcimer asked.

“Stacks, sir.” The forepony chuckled. “Stacks of pancakes, stacks of bricks, stacks of bits, it’s all good.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Stacks.” The viscount looked at the glowing buttons as they hit the second floor with a “ding.” “What do you know about changelings, Stacks?”

Stacks shrugged. “I know they’re bad news, boss.”

“Alright,” Dulcimer said. His voice took on an edge. “What do you know about assassinations?”

Forepony Stacks blinked. He fought the urge to scuff his hoof. “Assassinations? Like what happened to the princess?”

“That.” Dulcimer tilted his head. “There was also a changeling assassination attempt on Blueblood’s life today. What do you know about that?”

Stacks couldn’t stop his ears from laying back on his head. “Don’t know nothing, boss. I’ve just been working here all day.”

Dulcimer shut his eyes and nodded in understanding. “So you mean to tell me that you didn’t find out about my plans to poison Blueblood. You didn’t go to the police with a hint about the time and date. You didn’t send it in anonymously to avoid being caught.” He opened his green eyes and smiled. “And it wasn’t your fault that a changeling interrupted my murder?”

Sweat poured out from under Stacks’ hardhat. “I swear I don’t know what you’re talking about, boss.”

The elevator “dinged” again as they hit the third floor. Viscount Dulcimer patted Stacks’ back. “My mistake, of course. I didn’t mean for the information to fall into your hooves. That was an oversight on my part. There really wasn’t anything else you could have done. It was your civic duty to turn me in.”

Viscount Dulcimer traded a glance with Scuttlebutt. “And if you had concrete evidence, it might have worked.”

Forepony Stacks was an earth pony. He lifted bricks for a living. He was no slouch in the muscle department. When he threw the punch at Viscount Dulcimer’s head, it really should have flattened it. Instead, it clanged uselessly against the wall of the elevator, rocking it on its pulleys and metal cables.

The viscount’s voice came from behind the forepony. “Tisk, tisk. You don’t have time for this.”

The forepony gaped. There had been no flash of teleportation. No blur of movement. No flicker of illusion. There was no way the viscount could have moved that fast.

A hefty weight hit the back of Stacks’ head. He tumbled to the ground under the blow from Scuttlebutt’s buck.

“We’ve arrived on the top floor, sir,” Scuttlebutt said. His cheese-eating grin crossed his face. “How would you like to take care of this problem?”

The doors opened, allowing Scuttlebutt to exit. Dulcimer walked out and leaned his face close to Stacks’. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to fire you. I’m not going to kill you either. Your family will get your full life insurance, plus a hefty care package from the company. I’ll take care of them far better than you ever could.”

Tears dripped from Stacks’ eyes. “I thought you said you weren’t gonna kill me?”

“I’m not.” Dulcimer’s horn flared bright. A bubble of magic gripped the metal cables above the elevator. The cables rusted right before the three ponies’ eyes. “But it’s not the fall that kills you.”

The cables snapped. The breaks disconnected. Stacks screamed as the elevator carried him down four stories to a crushing end.

“Speaking of insurance,” Scuttlebutt said, “our premiums are about to go up.”

“But for the publicity this is going to get?” Viscount Dulcimer smirked. “It won’t cost nearly as much as what we’d pay the advertising agencies.”

He walked to the edge of the fourth floor. The walls had yet to be added, so he was standing in open air. Lights sparkled into existence like ground-bound stars. “Though Blueblood’s still among the living, I’ve managed to root out an information leak, sealed several contracts from various businesses, and learned that my enemies have a changeling.” He turned to Scuttlebutt and smiled. “All in all, it’s been a pretty good day.”

Author's Note

This sequence was originally conceived as a one-shot starring the changeling, but it works better as part of a larger tale. It also serves to raise the tension a bit before settling back into the lower-key sections of the team meeting up.

Alloy

Daring Do glanced at her sketch of the throwing knife. A bandage was wrapped around her hoof where she’d accidently sliced herself trying to handle it. The blade had not gotten much duller since its use a week before.

Most of the knife was comprised of its microscopically-sharp blade, which had a channel running down its length to allow blood flow. Swirls like rippling water flowed up to the tip. Where one would usually find a handle were a series of barbs in the shape of a comb, securing it to the user’s feathers and releasing it quickly when needed. Between the combs and the blade, various symbols were carved out of the metal.

Daring Do flipped through a tome from her private reference collection. Wingblades of various shapes and sizes decorated the pages, each representing an era of pony history. Symbols and their translations were called out in diagrams and notes. Hieroglyphics depicted heroic deeds and vast battles.

“There’s as many different knives as there are historic figures,” Daring grumbled.

Time Turner had the actual blade. He slid it underneath a machine and pulled a lever.

“That’s not gonna destroy it, is it?” Twilight Sparkle asked. “It’s sorta important evidence.”

“Not at all.” Time Turner motioned her closer. “See that tiny diamond point? That’s going to drive a small indention into the metal while the gauge records how deep it goes. We’ll compare that to the charts and see how hard the material is.”

Twilight frowned. “You’re poking holes in my evidence.”

“Tiny indentions,” Time said. “Tiny, unnoticeable indentations. It’s called non-destructive testing for a reason.”

He pulled the lever and lowered the weights. The diamond point sunk into the metal as a needle gauge shuddered. “That’s a beauty. That’s a… huh?”

He rubbed his chin. “Went off the charts. Load more weight onto the press, princess.”

“Wait, what?” Twilight huffed. “You’re gonna poke more holes in it?”

“Tiny, infinitesimal indentations.” Time Turner motioned to the weights. “Fifty more pounds, if you please.”

Twilight loaded the black disk onto the machine. She narrowed her eyes and watched Turner carefully.

“Hay, Sparkle,” Daring Do said. She ruffled her mane with both hooves, getting the last bit of dampness out. “Did this thing have any poison in it?”

“No. No poison, just precision.” Twilight cringed as the needle gauge jiggled from the pressure. “She knew right where to hit the guards.”

“Yikes.” Daring Do spoke around the pencil in her mouth as she took notes. “But also interesting.”

“She?” Time Turner looked up from his own notes. “You mean this assassin person?”

“The one and only.” Twilight leaned over his shoulder. “What have you got?”

“It’s hard,” he said, “really hard. It’ll hold an edge like you wouldn’t believe. It’s also tough, very tough. It can be bent quite some ways before breaking.” He lifted his hoof to pick it up, but hesitated. “If you would, please?”

Twilight lifted it in a spell and walked it over to a metallic box. Time Turner wound a crank on its side. “This spectrometer,” he said, “will reveal the chemical composition of the material.”

“How’s it do that?”

Time paused in his turning. He coughed. “By hitting it with a bolt of lightning and recording how light passes through the debris cloud.”

“Whoa, really?” Daring Do walked over, her pencil clenched in her teeth. “You’ve got a generator in here?”

“No!” Twilight shook her head. “No, no, no. You said you weren’t going to destroy the evidence.”

“I’m not, really.” Time Turner opened a hatch. “Not by much. How can I tell you what it’s made of unless you let me find out?”

“I’ll take it to Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. I’ll give it to the lab as a special credit project for the students.” Twilight held her nose up, then her head droop. “And… swear everypony involved to utter secrecy under pain of treason, I suppose. Brilliant idea, ain’t it?”

Time Turner turned one blue eye to the floating blade. “They’ll have to do it the same way, just with unicorn magic. Is this the only blade, Princess?”

Twilight hesitated. She sat down with a huff and lowered the knife into the box. “No, there’s dozens. This is the only one the Guard let me keep, though, so don’t mess it up too bad.”

“This I gotta see.” Daring Do peered at the side of the box, where the crank connected to bits of machinery. “Never got a chance to get up close and personal with lightning that wasn’t trying to kill me.”

“You aren’t going to see too much through the insulated box,” Turner said. “But if you’ll lend me your ears…”

They all leaned close as the box hummed. It grew into a low buzz. The lights in the shop dimmed.

“That’s it. Wake up.” Time Turner placed his hoof over a button. “Wake up and tell me what this thing’s made of.”

He pressed the button and the spectrometer popped. A printer beside the device wound up and began to gradually spit out graphs.

Daring Do blinked. She turned to Time Turner. “That was it?”

“You were expecting maybe a thunderstorm?”

“Yeah, kinda.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” Time Turner opened the hatch. “Careful, it’s probably hot.”

Twilight Sparkle gripped the wingblade in her magic and set it nearby. A dark spot was burned into the center. “We better be getting some real good data from that thing.”

Time examined the printer’s results. “Mostly iron, no surprise. Nickel and—well, that’s odd. What do you make of this?”

Twilight looked over his shoulder. “Carbon molecules?”

Daring Do looked between them. “Am I missing something important? Why’s there carbon in metal?”

Twilight shuffled back to let Daring into the huddle. “You know what carbon is?”

“I know we don’t use carbon dating anymore because of how inaccurate it is.” Daring scratched her cheek. “It’s in living things and charcoal and stuff.”

“Yeah, that.” Twilight glared at the burn. “And now it’s in an alloy.”

She tucked her wings in. “I’ll look into it later. Right now it’s kinda late.”

The cuckoo clock chimed eleven.

Time Turner wrinkled his nose. “Missed supper again. Anypony want a quick sandwich?”

Daring Do motioned them over to the reference book. “Quick update on this stuff first. It’s weird.” She pointed at her sketch, then at the sketch in the book. “Check it out, they match.”

Twilight squinted. “‘Match?’ How much?”

“Exactly.” Daring traced a hoof over the symbols in the book. “It’s got all these carved on it, too. Down to the littlest details.” She leaned her elbow on the table. “I think whoever this assassin is, she’s Commander Hurricane’s biggest fan.”

The hair on Twilight’s back stood up. She shivered. “It’s an exact match to Hurricane’s blades? Really?”

“Like I said, exactly.” She pointed to a hieroglyph shaped like a spear, then to one shaped like a shield. “This symbol represents the day Hurricane joined the Pegasopolis Air Calvary. This one’s when he achieved the rank of Commander.”

“She,” Twilight said, her mouth dry. “Luna said Hurricane was a mare.”

Daring lowered her eyebrows. “I guess I don’t wanna argue with somepony who was there. Anyway, this is the weird part: It has all the symbols, down to the very last one Hurricane ever added.”

Time Turner wiped down his spectrometer. “What’s that?”

The symbol Daring pointed out was of a horn and wings surrounding a heart. “This one, symbolizing the unification of the three tribes.” She spread her wings in a shrug. “You ask me, I don’t think the pony who wanted to hit Celestia would want to remember the unification. She definitely wouldn’t if she was a pegasus tribal purist like you’ve guessed, Sparkle.”

“N-no,” Twilight stuttered. “She wouldn’t.”

“Now, getting into super-freaky territory.” Daring Do sat down with the tome on her lap. “You said the blades weren’t poisoned? It says here Hurricane hated poison with a vengeance. Some sort of trauma from his—um—her early life. Scarred hiiii—her left cheek something awful.”

“You don’t say,” Twilight said. She shook her head. “Gosh I feel like a sandwich right now. Anypony else really feeling a sandwich coming?”

“I’ll get the tulips, my treat.” Time Turner trotted towards his kitchen.

“Hay,” Daring Do said. She put a hoof on Twilight’s back. “You okay?”

Twilight took a deep breath in through her nose and let it out through her mouth. “I don’t know. I’m just not sure. The more evidence I see, the more it’s leading me to believe something horrible.”

Time Turner leaned into the hallway, his ear cocked.

“The more I see, the more I think Luna’s theory might be right. The assassin is Hurricane.”

Daring chuckled. When Twilight didn’t join in, her smile melted away. “That’s impossible, right?”

Twilight didn’t say anything. She just gave Daring a level stare.

“Well, it doesn’t make sense.” Daring Do snapped the book shut. “I mean, Hurricane helped raise the princesses. H-she was a father figure… or something to them. Why would she want to murder Celestia?”

“And why would she travel to the far future to do it?” Time Turner called out. “Something doesn’t add up.”

Daring Do jerked her head. “What say we carry this conversation to the kitchen?”

“Sounds like genius.”

The table was set for three places. Twilight let her wings down to touch the floor as she slouched before her sandwich. Daring Do swallowed hers in three bites. Time Turner just nibbled.

“So,” Daring Do said after a hearty gulp, “you’re younger than I expected.”

Time Turner narrowed one eye. “Me?”

“Yeah, you. You were already a legend when I first got inducted into the Knights.” Daring Do pushed her plate forward and crossed her forelegs. “How old are you, anyhow?”

“Thirty-five, last I checked.” Time Turner kept his gaze on his meal. “Why? How old are you?”

Daring tisked. “Don’t you know not to ask a lady that?”

“I have some idea as to proper etiquette, yes.” Time Turner smirked. “Perhaps I just choose not to use it.”

Daring snorted. She tapped Twilight on the shoulder. “You gonna finish that?”

Twilight wordlessly slid the untouched sandwich over. Daring downed it in four mouthfuls. “’Cuz it’s like, you couldn’t go anywhere without the old guys talking about Time Turner. I joined the Guard eighteen years ago, so you’d have had to have been—”

“I got a young start.” Time took a larger bite and chewed slowly. “What about you? How’d you get Celestia to believe your book series wouldn’t bare Equestria’s deepest secrets to the world?”

Daring Do smiled. She chucked Twilight’s shoulder, but the princess didn’t seem to notice. “She hired Sparkle’s mom to edit. Seems like being the former Captain of the Guard builds trust or something.”

“Ah, that it would. That it would.” Time Turner draped one foreleg over the back of his chair. “How much does she usually edit out?”

“Not as much as she used to, I’ve been learning the difference between ‘dramatic moment’ and ‘detailed information on troop movements.’” Daring Do rubbed the back of her head. “Yeah, and we tone down the violence a lot, ’cause it’s an all-ages series. A lot of bad guys tend to fall down bottomless pits, if you know what I mean.”

“I believe I know the gist of it,” Time mumbled.

“What about you?” Daring said. “How much of the Legend of Time Turner is real-life?” She cupped a hoof to her mouth. “Did you really go back in time to be a younger Celestia’s secret lover?”

“What!” Twilight yelped.

“No!” Turner shouted. “Heck no! Cuss no!”

Daring crossed her forelegs, jutted out her lip, and gestured for Time to continue. Twilight eyed him suspiciously.

“I just… As the Knight of Time, I kept an eye on time travel-related activities.” Time Turner’s gaze bounced between the two mares. “Artifacts crafted by Starswirl. Beings known to experiment. Criminals who… wanted to exploit it. That’s all. It was no great adventure. No impossible journey. No…” He groaned. “No young stallion’s fantasy.”

Daring Do rubbed her upper foreleg. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to hit a sore point.”

“I know. I can’t hold it against you.” Time stood up and gathered their plates. “I’d want to know more about such a legend, too, you know.” He winked. “Maybe I’ll get the chance.”

“Oh, you will.” Daring Do flashed him a lopsided grin. “Trust me.”

“Fifth wheels on a date go round and round,” Twilight Sparkle muttered.

“You say something, Sparkle?” Daring Do asked.

“Nope.” Twilight Sparkle stood and stretched her wings. Her back cracked. “Oog. Thank you for your help and hospitality, Mr. Turner, but we’ve got to turn in for the night.”

“My pleasure.” Time licked his lips. “I’ll give you a copy of the results and look them over myself. I’ll let you know if anything interesting comes up.”

Twilight nodded. Daring Do gave her wings a decisive flap. “We’ll catch the son of a gun,” Daring said. “Heck yeah, we will.”

* **

Early morning was the best time to run, Care decided. She wasn’t a morning pony, but there was something about galloping through empty city streets that woke a body up. Her hooves pounded the new pavement, laid the previous summer courtesy of Applejack’s budgeting work.

The street weren’t completely empty. There were a few vendors setting up their stalls in the early twilight. A performing musician was seated on a park bench tuning her lyre. The first tantalizing whiffs of baked goods floated out of Sugarcube Corner.

A smile threatened to tug at Care’s cheeks as she caught a hint of pumpkin spice.

“On yer left!”

Applejack rumbled past, her cravat flapping in the wind of her headlong charge. Her hat only held on to her blonde head by virtue of sheer willpower. She laughed as she pulled ahead of Care. “Yer gonna have tah to better’n that if you wanna run the rodeo!”

“I’ve already got you beat in endurance, your Lordship!” Care laughed.

She slowed to a canter and let Applejack peel off towards City Hall. She found herself in town square, an open area with a fountain in the middle. There was a storage shed off to the side full of chairs to set up for Sunday Meeting. She knelt down and took a slurp from the fountain.

Gentle hoofbeats brought her ears back. She turned her head to get a quick peek at whatever other pony was up before dawn. He was a white-coated, light-blond stallion, making his way nervously across the square.

“Mr. Blank?”

He froze. He turned on his rear hooves and cleared his throat. “M—miss Carrot.”

She wiped her muzzle and brushed her long mane over her shoulder. “I thought you went to Canterlot. Business not work out?”

“N-not like I hoped.” His thin legs shook almost unnoticeably. “B-but not uns-ss-salvageable.”

She walked over to him and lowered her head to his level. “Where’s your cart? You didn’t have to leave it in Canterlot, did you?”

“T-train station.” Blankety Blank pointed back the way he came. “They’re k-keeping it until I h-head out. I’m just finding a place to stay.”

Care lifted a hoof. “I can show you where the motel is, approximately.”

“I h-have a place already, thanks.” Blank’s mouth smiled, but his eyes didn’t. “I should g-get going. Th-they’re expecting m-me.”

“Oh, well good luck to you.” Care bobbed her head and took a step back. “I should head back, too. See you around.”

“S-see you.” Blankety walked slowly forward, his head bowed. His hooves almost shuffled across the ground.

Care decided to give her legs a break and settled for walking back to the castle. They’d gone about a quarter of a mile before she noticed he was still right beside her. “Are you following me?”

“N-no!” Blankety shrunk in on himself. “No, I j-just—my place is th-this way.”

“Right. Sorry.” Care winced. “Just trying to make a joke, I guess.”

Blank shrugged. “K-keep trying, I guess.”

Care let out a heavy sigh. “Story of my life, guy.”

Blankety Blank gave a chuff of laughter, then fell silent.

“I’m curious, though,” Care said. She looked down at him. “How’d you know I was a captain?”

Blank sucked in a breath. He let it out slowly. “Oh. Y-yesterday.”

“Yeah, yesterday.” Care tilted her head to the side. “Marketplace, autumn wind, introductions…”

“I’ve seen you in the papers,” Blank said. “N-next to Celestia.”

“I’m usually in full armor.” Care flicked her tail. “With the visual enchantments.”

Blankety Blank studied his hooves as he walked. “Y-your name’s in the label, sometimes.”

Care lidded her eyes. “Right. Sure.”

Silence descended, but Blank nudged it aside. “Th-thank you for w-what you do, by the way. It means a l-lot.”

“What do you mean?”

“W-with the Guard. P-putting your life on the l-l-line.” Blank sucked his lips in. “I d-don’t think Celestia would be here t-today if it wasn’t for y-you.”

“I didn’t—” The skin around Care’s eyes grew tight. She left her mouth half-open, waiting for the rest of her reply to come out. It didn’t.

Blank’s pink eyes searched her face. He sighed and turned back to the front. “Means a lot.”

Care looked up at the monolithic Ponyville castle. “See you around.”

“Yup.”

She put her hoof on the left doorway. Blankety put his hoof on the right. They looked at each other.

“You’re staying at the castle,” Care stated.

“Y-yeah.” Blank’s mouth twisted. “You, too, huh?”

“Yup.” Care opened her door and moved to the side. “After you.”

“L-ladies firs—”

“Just move it.”

“Y-yes, ma’am.”

Blank plodded his way into the foyer. He gasped.

His neck craned his head far back. The castle’s high-vaulted ceilings arched into the distance, held aloft by naturally-formed crystalline pillars. Crystal facets ran across every surface, and everything glowed with a soft light. Windows of multicolored crystal took the place of stained glass, each depicting the shape an Elements of Harmony. The floor was carpeted with red fabric, soft like pegasus down.

“It’s beautiful,” Blankety Blank whispered. He took a few steps deeper into the castle and found his reflection on a pillar. He frowned at himself.

“Yeah, it’s not bad.” Care unzipped her plaid jacket and hung it on a coat rack near the doorway. “Real easy to get lost in here, though. It wasn’t exactly designed by an architect.”

He and his reflection stared at each other with drooping ears and glum looks. Care nudged him. “Hay,” she said, “the princess and Spike are probably gonna sleep until midmorning. I’ll show you the kitchen and we can get breakfast.”

“Sounds good.” Blank broke off his staring match and turned his eyes to the carpet. “Lead the way.”

It was a good five minute walk to the room Twilight Sparkle had decided was the “kitchen.” It was in one of the castle’s towers, to allow for smoke to escape through a window that had grown in the side. The second thing Twilight did after that was install a few elevators. Care pushed a button marked “KITCHEN FLOOR” in scrawling script, sending them climbing upward.

Blank squinted at the other labels that had been taped on. “Bedroom floor? Bathroom floor? Fire-exit floor?”

Care smirked. “It makes for easier navigation, I’ll say that.”

Once on the floor, Care pulled open the door to the kitchen. The two of them stopped when they found somebody already eating at the small table, hidden behind the morning’s paper. Care cleared her throat. “Hay.”

Daring Do’s eyes popped over the top of a newspaper as she sipped her orange juice. “You the room service? I kinda expected more servants in a castle this big.”

“Um. No.” Care walked around the table to get a better view of the other pony. “Who are you?”

“I asked you first.” Daring folded her paper in half. She chuckled. “Aw, good ol’ Minus and his blanket. The funny page’s greatest source of wisdom.”

She stuffed a whole pancake into her mouth and spoke around it. “Seriously, who are you people? Din’ know Sparkle had company.”

Blank shuffled away. “I’m just gonna m-make oatmeal.”

“I’m Care Carrot, I’m a Guard.” Care pointed her horn. “That’s Blankety Blank. A mirror merchant, I guess.”

“G-glassware, actually.”

“Well, there you have it.” Care crossed her front legs. “Your turn.”

Daring Do stuffed another pancake into her mouth and slurped up the syrup. “A. K. Yearling, author of the Daring Do books. Heard of me?”

“A little.” Care glanced at Blank to see that he was boiling water, then rummaged through the cupboards to find the oats. “Read the first couple books as a kid. I liked them.”

“Stirring praise, Care.” Daring Do dumped a blob of syrup onto her last pancake, folded it over, and ate it in two bites. “Did yah catch the movie this summer?”

“Nope.” Care gave a box of oats to Blank and scooped out a few raisons. “To be honest, I don’t care much for movie adaptations.”

Blank measured out the oats and followed up with the fruit. “I th-thought Rainbow Dash b-brought a great new d-dimension to Daring Do’s character. Made her f-feel like a real pony.”

Daring Do snickered. “Sure did.”

Care pulled up a chair. Daring Do held the paper out to her. “Funnies?”

Care shrugged and took it. She began looking for Leaven and Cobs. “So what brings a famous author to Ponyville’s castle?”

“Visiting an old buddy. Sparkle’s mom and I go way back. Kid’s like a niece to me.” Daring Do licked a bit of syrup off her nose. “I’d ask what a Royal Guard’s doing in Ponyville’s castle, but that question sounded dumb even before I said it out loud.”

She looked past Care. “So glassblower, what’re you doing here?”

“Merchant,” Blank said. He stirred his concoction. “I’m a… friend of Tw-Twilight Velvet, too. I’d r-rather not talk ab-about it.”

“Wow. Mister Mysterious over here.” Daring Do grinned. “I bet he’s a spy.”

Care rolled her eyes. “Yup. That’s the only logical explanation.”

Blank slid a bowl of hot oatmeal over to Care, then set one in front of himself. “Bon Appétit.”

“Thanks.” Care blew the steam before digging in.

Daring Do giggled.

Care gave her a look. “Hmm?”

“Just thinking about how Sparkle’s gonna feel when she wakes up and finds all her guests making themselves breakfast.”

The three of them shared a quiet laugh.

* **

Twilight Velvet circled the downed elevator. It had collapsed in on itself when it hit the ground floor, and resembled a cereal box crumpled up for the waste bin. The medical first responders had removed what was left of Stacks about an hour ago. Another unicorn stood close by, scanning the area for magic remnants.

“Got anything suspicious, Pixel?” Velvet asked.

“No oxidation spells for the broken wires, Chief, so it looks like the rust is natural.”

“Natural, my wrinkly—” Velvet grasped his shoulder and dragged him forward. She pointed at the wires. “Ever know metal wires to rust all the way through in one spot and leave the rest of the dang thing untouched?”

“No, Chief.”

“Of course not.” Twilight Velvet marched away. “Tell Corky to remove the wires and ship them out to our labs. We’re gonna figure out what the heck went wrong, come Tartarus or floods.”

The sun crested the horizon as she picked her way through the crowds of construction workers. The new forepony called out to her, “Hay, Chief! Get yer cops outta my construction site!”

“Get your construction workers out of my crime scene!” She shoved a hefty brute of a stallion aside. “Or do you wanna find more of your guys squished underneath an elevator?”

She shrieked. A crane claw the size of a dragon’s hand landed beside her and hoisted a case of bricks to the fourth floor. She pulled her hardhat low and glared at the forepony.

He jumped off the crane’s driver seat. “Boss says it was an accident. All I know for sure is if we don’t work, we don’t get paid. We don’t get paid, our families don’t eat. We level?”

“I understand your issues.” She lifted her nose and stuck it right up against the forepony’s. “Now understand mine. Accident or no, I need to investigate it. If it isn’t a murder, it’s negligent construction or corner cutting. Neither one is gonna look good on anypony’s resume. We level?”

The forepony sneered. “Yeah. We’re level.”

“Groovy.” She went around him and continued her march to the gate. “Somepony get this guy a coffee or something.”

She dug through the pockets of her duster and pulled out a set of keys. She unlocked the gate, slid through, and locked it back up. While inside the gated construction site was a crowd of workers, outside was a crowd of reporters. She slid against the wall, making her way behind a stage that had been hastily set up for a press conference.

“The true tragedy of the situation is how preventable it was,” Viscount Dulcimer said from his place behind the podium. “For years, Equestria has worked with materials produced nationally. Our iron, our bronze, our aluminum is far inferior to those made by our neighbors. We have been shown time and time again that our facilities, our methods, are inferior to the extreme.”

Twilight Velvet sat at the bottom of the platform’s staircase. She looked out over the reporters, watching them take vigorous notes or speak into magic recorders. “The body isn’t even cold, you jerk.”

“That is why I am begging Princess Luna to seek a new trade agreement with the griffons.” Dulcimer leaned on his lectern. “How many more ponies must be injured or killed before the cost of lives outweighs the cost of bits? What can King Andean ask that goes too far for us to supply Equestrians with stable, quality materials?”

He took a sip of water, allowing the reporters a moment to ask questions. “From what we’ve seen, the griffons guard their iron jealously. What good will asking Luna to step forward do?”

A cold, gray, clammy hoof clapped down on Twilight Velvet’s shoulder. She tensed up, but resisted the old instinct to simply wheel around and punch the pony in the face. She turned her head, giving herself an eyeful of Scuttlebutt’s cheese-eating grin.

“Have something to say to the Viscount, Police Chief?” he said. “I could take him your message so that you can get back to work.”

“I’ve got time to wait,” Velvet said, brushing Scuttlebutt’s hoof off her shoulder. “I’d like to have an actual conversation, not play letter tag.”

Scuttlebutt’s brown mane hung limp around his ears, which swiveled every which way constantly. “Fair enough. I should warn you that he’s already told everything he knows in the police report.”

“That’s what they all say.” Twilight Velvet sniffed the air and detected a mixture of baked goods, coffee, and dust on the wind. “I’d like a transcript of this speech, by the way.”

“But of course.” Scuttlebutt’s eyes jumped back from wherever they’d wandered. “It’ll be on your desk later today.”

He skittered away into the crowd of reporters, who barely spared him a glance. Twilight Velvet shivered. “What a creepy little pony.”

The reporters stood up almost as one, firing questions in an incomprehensible din. Dulcimer descended the stairs. He raised his eyebrows and spoke over the noise. “Chief Velvet. What a pleasant surprise.”

“Viscount.” Twilight Velvet pointed toward the gate. “A word or two?”

Dulcimer tightened his tie with a flash of magic. “Why not? Let’s have words.”

The reporters’ questions died down when they disappeared behind the staged “First of all,” Velvet said, “I didn’t catch the last part of your speech. What’s got you so sure the griffons will cooperate?”

“Every pony has a price, unfortunately.” Dulcimer scratched his goatee. “The trick is finding King Andean’s.”

“Yeah, really.” She shrugged. “Simple as that.”

“Not quite, but it’s a start.” The viscount gave her a bright smile. “What can I do for you, Missus Twilight?”

“I want to hear what happened last night, from your own mouth.” She dug through another pocket and produced a notepad and pencil. She levitated them between her and Dulcimer. “Just tell me what you saw.”

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “I saw the best forepony I’ve ever had lose his life to faulty equipment. I came within a few inches of death myself. There was a snap, a scream, and a crash. What more can I say, Missus Twilight? It’s not a moment in time I enjoy reliving.”

He sighed and let his ears droop. “May I return to my work, ma’am?”

“If there’s really nothing else to say—” A gust of wind grasped her notepad. She held it tight and brought it to her chest. “What the hay?”

The wind played with Dulcimer’s ponytail. He covered his eyes to protect them from flying sand. “What the blazes are the pegasi doing?”

Reporters snapped and cursed as a few chased after hats, notepads, and various other articles. Clouds swirled overhead, untouched by pegasus magic.

Twilight Velvet caught a flash of green in the twisting cold front. “Everypony, remain calm. Clear the street!”

The reporters continued to scramble around. Velvet took a deep breath and shouted at the top of her lungs. “Get out of the road, you morons!”

With that said, the reporters moved to the sides. Some took shelter beneath soon-to-be-shredded awnings. Some huddled beside dumpsters. Some huddled inside dumpsters. Some buckled down by the stage and began to speak into their recorders like they were on the front lines of some war or other.

“What’s going—” Dulcimer started to speak, but Twilight Velvet stuffed a hoof in his mouth. She left him standing by the stage and made her way to the middle of the road.

Pixel and Corky rushed out of the worksite and came to her side. “What’s going on, Chief?” Corky asked, his wings extended. “Rogue tornados? Disgruntled weatherponies? Something worse?”

“Nah.” Twilight Velvet smirked. “Just an old buddy coming to visit.”

The wind’s intensity picked up, causing them to close their eyes. A moment later, all was calm.

They opened their eyes and were met with a wall of green scales. Everypony present looked up, up, up, until they found themselves eye-to-eye with a full-sized dragon.

“That’s not something you see every day,” Dulcimer muttered.

The dragon leaned down, placing its giant claws beside the three officers. It opened its mouth, displaying teeth as sharp as swords. Warm air flowed out of its smoking nostrils.

Pixel and Corky ducked down and covered their heads with their forelegs.

“Hi, Missus Velvet,” the dragon said in a deep, yet distinctly female, voice.

Pixel and Corky peered out from between their hooves. Twilight Velvet sighed. “Hay, Shardscale. It’s been a while.”

Shardscale looked around at the cowering reporters and the nearby stage. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Not really. They were just wrapping up.” Twilight Velvet reached out and touched Shardscale’s wrist. “You here about Celestia’s situation?”

“Sure am. I’m the Chronicler, after all.” Shard sucked in a breath that may have been a sniff. “And a friend.”

“Yeah.” Twilight Velvet stood up straight. “Need a place to stay while you’re here? Our backyard’s available.”

“Thanks, but I gotta stay in the palace.” Shardscale leaned close and cupped a claw over her mouth, though everypony could still hear her. “Not just here to cover the assassination. We’ve got company headed our way. It’s big, feathery, and carries a chip on its shoulder.”

Twilight Velvet took a quick step back. “Andean?” she hissed. “What’s that old birdbrain want?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Shard drummed her fingers against the road. “And right now mine isn’t worth a tin can in a dragon hoard.”

She stretched up to her full height. “So I’ll see you around, hopefully.”

“Yeah.” Twilight Velvet waved. “Stop by for supper sometime this week. We’ll have a place ready.”

“Thanks, Missus Velvet.” Shardscale spread her wings. “And, um, the rest of you guys can carry on or whatever.”

A blast of air cleared the street of debris when Shard took off towards the castle. Twilight Velvet cast a few spells to set her mane back into place. She looked down at her cowering partners. “Canterlot’s Finest, shivering at the feet of the world’s biggest nerd. What a day.”

Dulcimer readjusted his tie. He watched the dragon circle the castle once before landing in the courtyard. He leaned towards Velvet as she passed by. “You have friends in very surprising places.”

“Gotta know how to network.” She pursed her lips. “Looks like you’re gonna get that chance to find out King Andean’s price.”

“All in all,” Dulcimer said, “things are looking up.” He hailed a taxi that had gathered up the courage to rumble down the road. “Take care of yourself, Missus Twilight.”

Twilight Velvet grimaced as she watched him roll away. She shook her head and walked towards the police carriage, her coat flapping in the remains of Shardscale’s squall.

Arise

Princess Luna stood upon her sister’s throne. It was meant to be shared; Celestia’s in the day, Luna’s at night. But the sun was high in the sky, and banners with the solar symbol hung between the stained-glass windows. There was no question whose throne it was.

There was no question that Luna was out of place.

A large, green-scaled dragon filled the audience hall. Her kind eyes looked down on Luna with uncertainty. “Um… Hay.”

“Greetings, Shardscale, Chronicler of Dragons and Equestria.” Luna bowed her head. “You are a most welcome sight. I hope you find your accommodations acceptable?”

“Oh, sure, sure. It’s nice. Good bed. Lots of gems. I’m a simple gal.” Shard fidgeted a moment before pointing a claw at Luna. “Nice to finally meet you, Princess Luna.”

Luna blinked before raising her foreleg. Hoof met claw. “Likewise.”

Silence. Luna resisted the urge to fidget as well. “So, perhaps you could tell me what usually happens when you visit Equestria?”

“Oh, sure!” Shard blew a jet of fire which hung in the air. She swirled her claws through it, forming a large scroll and pen. “Usually I have a little talk with Celestia about what’s going on, then I observe whatever I came to, you know, observe, then I talk with witnesses… that sort of thing. I write it all down for posterity and stuff.”

She put pen to paper and scribbled.

Luna nodded. “What might you be writing right now?”

“I’m transcribing this conversation.”

Scribble, scribble, scribble.

Luna raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yup.”

Scribble, scribble, scribble.

Luna watched the pen dance. “It sounds a bit exhausting.”

“Not really, once you get used to it.”

Scribble, scribble, scribble.

“How very odd,” Luna said. “So, do you have any specific questions?”

“Not at the moment.” Shardscale dotted an ‘I.’ “I’d like a general overview of that night before getting into the specifics. Just so I know what’s what right away. How things went down. What can you tell me about the event?”

Luna slowly sat down. She looked at a nearby stained-glass window, depicting her sister and her raising the celestial objects. “So it is an ‘event’ now.”

Smoke billowed out of Shardscale’s nostrils. The scales around her eyes slid together as the skin tightened. “Well, what am I supposed to call it? ‘The greatest tragedy of our time’ comes to mind.”

“She is not dead ye—” Luna clamped her mouth down hard. “She is not dead. She is injured and recovering.”

“Then why can’t I see her?” Shardscale bit her tongue. “Sorry. I’m just—sorry. I can guess that you’re dealing with a lotta junk right now.”

Luna winced. “Yes, I am. Perhaps since it is high noon, we should retreat to the gardens for lunch.” Her horn glowed, and she whispered into Shard’s ear. “And a more private conversation.”

Shardscale glanced back at the ponies waiting their turn to petition the crown. Most of them were hiding behind the massive doors leading into the hall, while a few waited on the sidelines, all but passed out from shock. She grimaced. “Maybe that’d be a good idea. Lunch sounds great.” She shuffled her way backwards out of the audience chamber.

Two bat pony guards stood at Luna’s side. She leaned to her left to speak with the one named Snipe Hunt. “Have the artisans prepare a pile of gemstones, high quality, and bring it to the gardens. She will also require an archaeopteryx steak, well-done.”

Snipe nodded. “At your command.” He spread his webbed wings and sailed off silently.

The guard on her right, Skyhook, walked alongside her on her way to the garden. “Do we have anything to fear from Shardscale, my Lady?”

Luna lit her horn to whisper in Skyhook’s ear. “Not fear, but concern. She is an old friend of my sister’s, but she is also a thorough record keeper. We must all watch what we say. The lie cannot be undone yet.”

“Understood.”

The warm colors of fall leaves belied the chill in the air. Luna slid a light blue shawl around her shoulders. Her hooves swooshed through the leaves that hadn’t yet been cleared from the paved path. When she eventually arrived at the center of the garden, with its stone benches and tables, its patches of dormant flowers, and its centerpiece of an ancient tree, a picnic had already been set out. Snipe Hunt stood watch in the boughs of the old oak, nearly invisible unless one was looking for him. Even then, all that stood out was a faint shadow among sticks.

Behind the tree, Shardscale struggled to get comfortable in surroundings that weren’t designed for dragons. Her tail slithered through a hedge maze. Her wings pressed tight against her back to prevent them from blowing the falling leaves into a whirlwind. Her claws nestled themselves between bushes and flowerbeds.

“I am sorry, Chronicler,” Luna said. “I can assure you that your accommodations in the courtyard will be a great deal more… roomy.”

“S’okay. M’used to it.” With her limbs positioned, Shard flopped to the ground with a satisfied sigh. Something crunched beneath her belly. “Oops.”

“A small matter.” Luna lay down on a soft blanket. She grasped several items in a bubble of kinetic force: A cup of water, a bag of dry beans, and two sugar cubes. The beans ground themselves into powder, the water heated itself, and the sugar was mixed in with the rest. In a moment, Luna had a perfect cup of coffee.

Shardscale smiled. “Like to brew your own cuppa, huh?”

“A habit from my younger days.” Luna took a sip. “Do you drink coffee? I can’t imagine the bill, if so.”

“Nah, you can never get it hot enough to notice. It all boils away before it even feels warm.” Shard snapped her claws. “Cold drinks, that’s where it’s at. Don’t much care for the brain-freeze, though.”

“Aye, it is enough to drive a mare to…” Luna held herself back from saying “insanity.” “Distraction. If we could get rid of brain-freeze, I feel my consumption of frozen drinks would triple.”

The wind blew leaves between them. Luna held up a foreleg to shield her face, but Shard just snorted them away. Shard tapped her claw tips together. “Look, about your sis—”

“She is alive, but hurt.” Luna set her hot coffee on the blanket and met Shard’s eyes. “We have a lead on who her attacker might be, and we have ponies searching for her. Celestia will heal, and then this whole thing can be over with.” She lifted her chin. “That is the gist of it, as you requested.”

Shard nibbled a scale on her lip and pried it loose. She summoned her scroll and pen in a plume of flame, then scribbled down her notes. “Well, I guess that’ll do it, then.”

Luna brushed a lock of shimmering mane out of her eye. “I’m sorry, but to tell you more could place many, many ponies in mortal danger. If word got out, into the wrong hooves, it could cost everything.”

“Look, I trust you to try to do the right thing.” Shard gripped the scale between her teeth as she wrote. “I really do. It’s just that others are gonna have questions. President Mangle, Seabreeze, King Andean, they’re not gonna be satisfied with that. They’re gonna want to know what happened to Princess Celestia.”

Luna stood up. “She was hurt. That’s all there is to it. Hurt by a madmare who needs to be put down. Nothing I say to you, or to Andean or Mangle or Seabreeze, will help anything.”

A pony walked up, rolling a cart full of gemstones behind him. He set it before Shardscale and hurried off.

Shard popped a ruby into her mouth. “Maybe I wanna help. Maybe Celestia’s my friend, too, not just a person I write about. Maybe you could use a giant kick-butt dragon on your side.” She lit her scroll on fire and watched it vanish back to where it came. “Please, I’m asking as a friend, please tell me what happened.”

Luna’s eyes grew hard. “And then what of your duties? What of the reprimand you will undoubtedly receive from Leviathan should he find out you neglected to record something?”

“Who said he has to find out?” Shard made a fist. “Can I trust you not to rat me out? Can I trust that guard next to you?” She glanced at the tall oak. “Or mister ‘don’t-look-at-me-I’m-a-tree’?”

Snipe Hunt grumbled in the branches.

Luna set her jaw. “What you ask is a hard, dangerous thing.”

“Hay, maybe if you tell me about it, I can help you make up a cover story for Andean. He’s coming soonish, you know. You can’t just tell him what you told me.” She gave Luna an uneasy grin. “You think I’m pugnacious and tenacious? Yeowch.”

A pegasus flew in, bearing a platter. She uncovered the steak with a flourish and left it steaming before Shardscale. Skyhook eyed it, a bit of saliva collecting in his mouth. He pointedly ignored it and continued to scan for threats.

Luna shut her eyes. “Celestia was stabbed in the heart with a Royal Guard spear, stolen from one of her personal guards. She is currently lying in a comatose state, surviving with the help of an oxygen pump and all the ambrosia we can spare. Her brain activity is consistent, but she hasn’t moved since that night at the opera.” Luna glared up at the dragon. “I don’t care who you tell, as long as you keep this a secret until the investigation is over and Celestia is once again in her proper place.”

Shard’s lips trembled. “Okay.”

“If words gets out, and somepony gets hurt, and I find out it was your fault,” Luna said, her voice shaky, “you will die. Do you understand?”

“Hay, I can dig it. It’s cool.” Shard zipped her lips. “Tight lid.”

They ate silently, Shard her steak and Luna her salad. When she was done, the dragon picked her teeth with her loosened scale. “Do you have any clue why Andean’s coming to visit?” she asked

“He is not too fond of Equestria as a whole. I doubt it is a holiday.” Luna pulled the shawl tighter. “The timing is awfully coincidental.”

Shard frowned. “You don’t think he had something to do with the assassination, do you?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Luna pressed her wings against her sides to hold off a sudden breeze. “Celestia would say it is dangerous to assume anything.”

“Yeah, and maybe add something about pointless speculation.” Shard blinked. She wiped her eyes, leaving her claws sizzling. “Dang, she needs to get better. I’m gonna be a wreck until she does.”

Luna nodded. “I recommend a quart of ice cream. Or in your case, a bath.”

Shard tossed an emerald into her mouth. She sucked on it, letting it dissolve away. “Maybe if I start saving up gems instead of eating them. Maybe then I could afford it.”

***

The hospital was quiet. Deathly still. Luna let her hoof fall soft against the floor, as if making a sound would be a deep offence. Snipe Hunt and Skyhook were even more quiet than she was, the flutter of a wing the loudest noise they made.

There was a nurse reading at her desk. Luna broke the stillness. “My little pony.”

The nurse squeaked, dropping her book. She bowed hastily. “Your Majesty. What can I do for you?”

“I am here to see my sister.” Luna pointed her horn towards the heavy metal doors. “Please guide me to her room. My guards will stay here.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the nurse gasped out, “but nopony is allowed to visit Princess Celestia.” She swallowed a lump in her throat and added, “Doctor’s orders.”

Luna narrowed her eyes. “Doctor Fine is not in right now, is he?”

“N-no, ma’am.”

“Who is in charge?”

“Well.” The nurse gave several false starts. “Well, I am, but I’m under orders—”

“Nurse”—Luna read the pony’s name tag—“Flower Wishes, who am I?”

“Um.” Flower Wishes shook her head. “Princess Luna?”

“Yes.” Luna rested her hoof atop the desk. “High Princess and Diarch of Equestria. Mover of the Moon and acting Setter of the Sun. Former Bearer of the Elements of Harmony. Watcher of Dreams.” She leaned her head close to Flower’s. “Tell me again, Nurse Wishes, who is in charge right now?”

“You are, your Majesty.”

“Thank you. May I see my sister?”

“Uh huh.”

Flower Wishes opened the metal door and let Luna through. Skyhook and Snipe Hunt took up positions on either side of the door. “Her room’s at the end of the hallway,” Flower said. “I-I shouldn’t leave my post for long. In case of emergency.”

“Agreed.” Luna walked down the hall, her head high and her wings half-extended. “Thank you, Nurse Wishes.”

The door shut with a decisive click. As Flower passed, Snipe touched her shoulder with a wingtip. “Sorry about that, miss. She’s going through a lot.”

Flower Wishes smiled and scurried back to the desk.

Skyhook chuckled. “Softy.”

“Hay, it’s a habit.” Snipe smirked. “A good habit, at that.”

***

Celestia was still. Still motionless. Still unresponsive. Still breathing with the help of a tube. Still taking in ambrosia. Still dead to the world.

“Ten years, Celestia.” Luna paced before the hospital bed. “Ten years I have been back. Welcomed to society with open arms. Crowned princess and loved by thousands of thousands. Praised in song and ceremony.” She hung her head. “I have no idea what I am doing.”

She pulled up alongside the bed and stared at the tubes leading into Celestia’s body. “I never expected ten years to undo several lifetimes of wickedness and isolation, but I hoped to understand more about what I am supposed to do.” She turned to the window. “No. A lie. I wanted to understand what you do. I wanted to be as strong as you. I wanted to be able to fill your horseshoes if the need arose. I wanted to be equal.”

She sat down and lifted her hooves. “Now that chance has come and I am left without a guiding hoof. I am without knowledge of where to go next. I still need you, and if you are not here—”

She let her forelegs drop. The heart monitor ticked away just at the edge of her consciousness. “I understand Twilight. I understand her need to be useful. Now I have to be useful, but I have no clue how. I am lost.”

She stood up and walked to the door. She paused. “I was lost before.” She studied her rump, where the dark hair grew around her cutie mark. “So very lost. I do not wish to lose myself again. I refuse to lose myself!”

She punctuated her statement with a stomp of her hoof. The sound was unsatisfactorily muffled by the walls of the room. Luna bit back a groan. She opened her wings and dared to rest a wingtip on Celestia’s leg. “Sister, I miss you so. Please come back quickly. Please.”

Air flowed from Celestia’s mouth, guided by the magic-powered machine at her side. If Luna looked closely, she could see the gentle, gradual rise and fall of her sister’s chest.

“Beloved sister.” She blinked her eyes. “Oh Creator, why did this happen?”

The deep wound in Celestia’s heart was felt in Luna’s own. She clutched her chest and slumped to the ground. Tears poured from her eyes as she allowed the sobs to come. “Please come back. Please come back. Please come back.”

She pulled herself up to look at her sister’s face. “Please… please give me a sign that you’ll come back. Please give me something to hold on to.”

Celestia said nothing.

Luna dried her tears and calmed her cries. She took several deep breaths before heading towards the door again. “Good bye, Celestia.”

Above the beep of the heart monitor, beyond the hum of the breathing tube, something caught Luna’s ears. A strange scratching sound. Luna turned her head and narrowed her eyes.

A roll of paper came out of a machine that scribbled jagged lines with several different colors. The wires from the back led to Celestia’s head.

Luna’s eyes widened. “My stars. Consistent brainwaves.”

She staggered over to the bedside, her knees trembling. She sucked in a deep breath. “Sister, do you dream?”

She licked her lips, her pulse quickening. She skipped to the door and down the hall, almost not daring to hope. She called her guards to her side as she moved, her wings already spreading to their full length. She gave a nod to Flower Wishes and then was off to the entrance.

Once outside the hospital, with its many instruments that could be disturbed by powerful magic, she teleported the three of them to the tallest tower in Canterlot Castle: The Dream’s Keep. The guards shook their heads to rid themselves of their daze, then took up position beside the entrance.

Luna hurried up the spiral stairs. She tripped halfway up, nearly sending her nose into the steps. She broke free of the staircase and spent a moment catching her breath.

The room was rounded, with several mirrors set into the walls. From the gilded, domed ceiling, a bell hung, ready to be rung in case of emergency. At the far side, a telescope sat on a balcony. Luna set foot on the marble tiles that formed the shape of her cutie mark. She sat down in the center of the room.

The mirrors came to life. They were not as lively as they would be late at night, but each mirror still held a dream. Ponies who slept during the day and worked at night, elders taking a siesta, college students asleep on their textbooks…

Luna scanned them, her breath coming in spurts. Every muscle in her body tensed. She shook, half hoping she was right, half expecting crushing disappointment.

There. That mirror. A glimpse of something few ponies would understand. A flicker of something few ponies still alive had ever experienced. Luna leaned forward, squared her shoulders, and cast a spell.

Luna’s sleeping body curled up in the center of the room as the Watcher of Dreams set out to greet her sister.

***

A young alicorn mare landed at Luna’s feet. Luna stumbled back, kicking up dust as she went. She reached to help the mare up, but froze at a word.

“Come, Luna. We begin again.”

Luna’s eyes snapped up. Her wings extended as everything inside her told her to run. It was her.

Commander Hurricane walked across a wide circle of dirt. She wore light armor over her pale blue coat. It was tough but soft, enough to defend against hoof-to-hoof strikes, but not enough to stop a spear point. “Get up. Thou art not learning from the dirt, but from me.”

Luna’s mouth dried out. She looked down as the young alicorn mare groaned. The mare’s coat was dark blue, while her mane was lighter by far. Her knees were barked. Her hooves were chipped. Her feathers were a mess. Her lip was bloody. She staggered to her hooves.

“Thou can do it, Luna!” a voice called from the sidelines. Luna turned her head to see that the speaker was another young alicorn, one with a white coat and pink mane. “We believe in thee!”

Hurricane crouched low, her wings spread. “Keep thine hooves up. Go.”

The young, blue alicorn lunched, her hooves a flying frenzy. Hurricane barely moved as she caught each strike. She flapped her wings, catching the young one in the sides of her head. A quick jab to the chin knocked her onto her back.

Hurricane stood victorious above a bruised and battered Luna. “Thou art striking with thine heart, not thine head. Think. Do not allow anger to control thee.”

Luna watched with held breath as her younger counterpart stood up. She cantered up to the sidelines and sat beside a unicorn mare, who ignored her. She looked past the unicorn to look at the pink-maned alicorn, who sat on the edge of her seat.

“Pray tell, young one,” Luna said. “What transpires?”

“The Commander tests our skills in the martial arts.” The alicorn did not take her eyes off the match. She giggled. “I am to be next.”

Luna nodded slowly. “Dost thou think thou shall be victorious?”

“Nay, but I shall give a good showing.” The mare winced as the younger Luna fell to a powerful punch. “Though I think Luna may wish for more training.”

Commander Hurricane pulled the young Luna to her feet. “One more round, then I am finished with thee.”

Luna ripped herself out of Hurricane’s grip. Her eyes smoldered under her mussed mane.

“For today,” the commander said, her own eyes emotionless.

The elder Luna gasped as a memory flashed by in her mind. She stood and raised a wing. “Wait! Look out!”

The young Luna’s horn flared white, grabbing Hurricane and smashing her into the dirt. She bared her teeth and threw a lightning bolt at the prone commander.

Hurricane rolled. The lightning turned dirt into glass. She gave her wings one powerful flap and threw herself at her opponent. Her forehead impacted against the young Luna’s eye. She wrapped her forelegs around Luna’s neck and held her down. “Thou fool! Magic shall not aid you in every event! Enemies shall counter it, spells shall negate it, monsters shall feast on it!”

“Let me go!” young Luna screeched.

“Thou would put thee and thy allies at risk with thy foolhardiness.” Hurricane’s muscles strained to hold the adolescent alicorn down. “Thou shall learn thy lesson or others shall suffer for it.”

The pink-maned alicorn stood up and hesitated. The unicorn put a hoof on her shoulder. “Wait a moment, then go to your sister, Celestia.”

The elder Luna looked down at the little unicorn mare. She wore a full-length cloak that hid her body from view, save for the reddish braid pulled over her shoulder. “You are certain that—?”

Hurricane let Luna get to her feet. “Five minutes,” she called out before flying off.

Celestia rushed to the young Luna’s side and spoke in a hushed voice. Luna stood up to move closer, but the unicorn mare touched her shoulder. Luna looked down and saw two magenta eyes.

“I can only hope Luna grows out of her hubris before she hurts herself.” She sighed. “And her sister.”

Luna looked at the two young alicorns. Celestia had Luna in a gentle embrace, and was rubbing a damp rag over her cuts. “I fear not, Clover.”

“It is her heart’s promise to make, of course,” Clover the Clever said as if she hadn’t heard Luna. Considering how similar the dream was to memory, perhaps she hadn’t. “When I first read those prophecies, I did not believe they would be fulfilled like this.”

Celestia stared at Clover, her ears perked. She pressed her lips together and rubbed Luna’s back. “Thou just needs be a little swifter in thy movements. Then thou shall take the Commander by surprise!”

“Thou jest, sister.” Young Luna brushed the damp cloth away. “My strength lies not in the hoof, but the horn.”

Celestia smiled. “Aye, but thee and I have the potential for our strength to lie in hoof, horn, and wing. The wizard told us.”

Young Luna’s forehead furrowed. “His beard is as long as his tales are tall.”

The elder Luna chewed her bottom lip. She trotted over, barely noticing that Clover had ceased to exist. “But he speaks the truth this time, young one. You are more than you realize.”

Young Luna didn’t respond, instead taking the time to stare at the glass she’d burned into the small arena. Celestia looked surprised. “How could you know such things, your Grace?”

“Because she is not your sister,” Luna said with a pointed look at the memory of herself. “I am.”

Celestia squinted as, all around, the memories faded to a dull blur. “Luna? Thou lookest…” She pulled back her upper lip. “Old.”

“And thou lookest just out of diapers.” Luna chuckled. “Oh, sister, I can’t tell you how good it is to see you up and about.”

“Of course,” Celestia said with a chipper smile. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Luna’s merriment dissipated. “You… you see, Celestia, you—”

“If thou truly art my sister, then stop being so formal!” The world returned to sharp contrast as Celestia grabbed Luna’s hoof. “Come, I must show thee all the things we have been doing! Even now, Centurion Pansy says, diamond dogs are amassing for an attack on Fort Everfree!”

A fort it was, and a hastily built one at that. The walls were firm stone, but held together by weak cement. The watchtowers were staffed by overtired soldiers weary from a running battle. Armor bearers worked constantly to sharpen weapons and repair armor.

“All shall go as planned,” Celestia piped up. “The Commander and I shall lead a force to draw them into the open, and thou shall cast buffs on us to protect us! All the while, the Centurion’s Elites rain down arrows. And more than that…”

Celestia stood proud before the ugliest diamond dog Luna had ever seen. Chains restrained every limb. His fur was ratty. His teeth were crooked. His eyes were red and bloodshot. He smelled of filth and decay. His tail had a chunk removed. Scars ran the full length of his body, centered around his thick neck. He grimaced at them. Or maybe it was a smile.

“Since we have captured their leader, Wulf,” Celestia said, “they will be completely confused.”

Luna’s heart raced. “No. No, no, no, no, of all the days to be reliving, sister…”

Night came without Luna’s command. She spun around, reminding herself that it was just part of the dream, not someone stealing her control. Campfires burned as most of the soldiers did their best to rest after a long struggle.

Luna was alone next to the chained diamond dog chief. He chuckled faintly to himself. Celestia was nowhere to be found.

“Celestia!” Luna ran through the camp. “Celestia! Wake up! To arms! To arms!”

No one could hear her. They weren’t real, just figments of imagination in a dream built from memories. The memories, however, were real. As were the first screams.

Diamond dogs erupted from the earth beneath her hooves. Luna stomped them back down, but they popped up elsewhere. They grabbed hot coals with their bare hands and flung them onto the tents. They slid blades into the chests of sleeping ponies. After they could no longer keep themselves quiet, they howled at the full moon in triumph.

Hurricane woke first. “To arms!” she shouted as she burst from a burning tent. She laid a diamond dog low with three well-placed strikes. “Arise! To arms! The enemy is among us!”

Celestia stumbled out of a tent, the young Luna behind her. She shrieked and planted her rear hooves in a dog’s chest, sending him flying into a nearby inferno. The younger Luna screamed and lifted two diamond dogs into the air on a current of magic. She threw them over the wall.

The elder Luna met Celestia. “We need to get out of here! You don’t need to live this again, sister. You have already dealt with this!”

“I cannot leave them behind!” Celestia grappled with another dog before throwing him to the ground. “I have to protect my people!”

She brushed past Luna and barreled into a dog, knocking it down before it could slay a soldier. Ponies and diamond dogs crowded into the melee, obscuring Luna’s view of her sister. She flew above the battle and searched with wild eyes. She didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want to see this again. She had to make sure Celestia didn’t.

But she failed. The dream moved forward, as they often do. Wulf was free from his chains, which were instead used to hold Hurricane, Clover, and Pansy. Two of the strongest diamond dogs held Celestia steady with their burly arms. All around, dogs and ponies lay dead and dying.

The younger Luna cried out when Wulf stomped down on her wing. He lifted a sword shaped like a jagged fang. “Diamond Dogs!” he shouted.

“Diamond Dogs!” came the response.

“Gems we find!”

“Gems we hog!”

“Moving rock!”

“Digging dirt!”

“Gems uncovered!”

“By our work!”

“Carts to ride!”

“Swell with pride!”

“Smash their bones!”

“Flay their hide!”

He grabbed young Luna’s light-blue mane and lifted her up. “Pony prophesies say you savior?”

She raged as her horn glowed.

He slapped the flat of his blade against her horn, halting the spell. “Talk with horn? Then I talk with hands.”

The elder Luna dove at the scene. She flew through the diamond dog chieftain without even fazing him. Nopony else noticed her, once again.

“Let her go!” Celestia wailed. “Let her go, thou monster!”

“Release my chains, dog!” Hurricane said. “See how brave thou art!”

Wulf slapped Luna across the face, leaving a cut in her cheek. He snarled and tossed her towards the Founders. “This what happen to pony saviors! This what happen when you try take our land! Our gems! Our soil!” He howled at the moon, and his dogs with him.

The elder Luna swung a hoof that trailed right through a diamond dog’s head, leaving him unscathed. She grabbed another, who turned to shadow in her grasp. She held down the lump in her throat. “Celestia… you need to wake up.”

Celestia glared at the trampled grass underfoot. Her body trembled as she lifted her gaze to Wulf.

Wulf sauntered over to the young, blue alicorn. “We show you what happen to all pony if little annoying ponies ever come back!” He twirled his blade, letting it come to a rest against her back.

“Enough!” Celestia said. “No more!”

The diamond dogs holding her tightened their grip. Her eyes flashed with visible light. “Let her go!”

Wulf’s grin disappeared, replaced with a confused scowl. The grimacing smile soon returned. “Sorry. Can’t hear little pony whine over Wulf’s own laughter. What?”

Celestia closed her eyes and strained. Sweat appeared, rolling down her forehead and sides.

Wulf shuffled his feet. He shook his head and raised his sword. “Don’t worry. She not feel it. Much.”

Celestia howled. Her eyes opened, emitting a blinding whiteness. Wulf froze in shock, his mouth hanging open. Light appeared over the fort’s east wall.

All ponies and diamond dogs turned as one to see the sun rise, deep in the middle of the night. The moon was obscured from view as the darkness ceased to exist. Celestia rose into the air, her entire body shimmering with sunlight. Her captors dangled from her sides.

She burst into flame. The diamond dogs at her sides dropped to the ground, shouting and rolling in the dirt as fire licked at their hides.

Wulf let out a high-pitched whine as what was left of his tail tucked itself between his legs. In the next moment, he snarled. “Pretty light show… over!” He lunged, his blade outstretched.

A pillar of fire came down from the sun and landed on Wulf. His bronze sword melted in his hands. His fur turned white and blew away in a strong, hot gust of wind. His skin turned black, before it, too, turned to ash.

Celestia crashed to earth. The fire went out. The sun set. There was only silence, save for the crackling pit of embers that had once been Wulf.

There was a shuffling, a sound of dirt moving, and the diamond dogs had retreated.

Fort Everfree disappeared, leaving Luna, Celestia, and the embers. Celestia stared at the orange glow, her mane hanging around her face, her eyes bloodshot, her mouth agape. Her breaths came short and quick. “I killed him.”

Luna sat behind her sister. Celestia was small enough to fit into the space between her front legs. She held her tight. “I’m sorry, Celestia.”

“I k-killed him.” Celestia choked. “I could have just broken his leg… or taken his sword… or threw him across the fort. B-but I killed him.”

With her final words, she broke down. Tears flowed freely as sobs wracked her chest. Luna rocked her, her cheek pressed against the top of her sister’s head.

“It is good that you cry, Celestia. Crying helps us heal.” Luna blinked back the dampness in her own eyes. “I only wish your dreams had not reopened this wound.”

Celestia buried her head in the blue hairs of Luna’s chest. Blue feathers encircled her in a warm, comforting embrace.

Luna’s ears swiveled at the sound of hoofsteps. She turned to glare at whoever would intrude on their moment. Clover the Clever stood a scant few meters away, her face obscured by her cloak. Magenta eyes shined in the shadows.

“‘I saw a pony with eyes of lightning. Her heart was hard and strong with a yearning for justice. She carried the sun on her right wing, and the moon on her left. Fire rained from heaven and consumed her enemies, and all trembled at the sight of her.’”

Luna clenched her teeth. “Please, for once just leave the prophesies out of this. Just let us be.”

Clover’s head tilted. “I saw a second pony with eyes of shadow. Her heart was merry, though encased in a prison of stone. She carried the moon on her right wing, and the sun on her left. Darkness was her enemy and constant companion, but she would not surrender.”

Then Clover was gone.

Luna held her sister close as Celestia wept over her first time raising the sun.

Author's Note

Headcanons firing on all cylinders, sir!

Batten down the hatches, boys, we're going in full throttle!

Spar

Twilight swung at the hanging punching bag, which made weak paff noises every time she connected. Her hooves jerked back and forth. She winced with each impact, as if she was afraid the bag would hit back.

Daring Do snickered from the other side of the bag. “You haven’t practiced at all, have you?”

Twilight groaned. “I keep telling my mom”—paff—“I’m an alicorn”—paff—“I have so much magic”—paff—“I can turn any attacker”—paff—“to paste.” She sat back and took a swig of water. “You want to see my self-defense classes? Take a look at my magic portfolio.”

Daring Do nudged the punching bag to let it swing. “Then what’s all this for?”

Twilight smirked. “Because if she asks me if I’ve been keeping up, I can answer with an honest ‘yes’ and avoid the lecture.”

Daring Do caught the bag. “I’m so telling on you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I so would.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Actually, I was gonna write to Velvet anyways. Two birds with one stone.” Daring Do held a hoof to her mouth. “Spike! Hay, Spike! Got a job for you!”

Twilight Sparkle grabbed Daring’s shoulder. “You are literally going to tattle on a princess.”

“Impeach Twilight Sparkle!” Daring Do hollered. “She’s disobeying her mom!”

Twilight pulled her mouth to one side. “You can’t impeach a princess.”

“So it’s banishment, then?” Daring Do poked Twilight’s chest. “To the moon with you, and no supper.”

Care Carrot walked in, her coat damp from her morning run. She whistled as she looked around. “Now this is a workout room. Treadmills, barbells, chin-up bars…” She rubbed a hoof over a countertop. “And a nice thick layer of dust.”

“Behold, the Royal Guard has arrived to haul our delinquent princess away.” Daring Do hid behind the punching bag. “We salute their bravery.”

Care stopped on her way to a weightlifting station. She cocked an eyebrow. “Is she drunk?”

Daring Do rolled her eyes. “Why does everypony keep asking me that? No, I’m just having fun.” She nudged Twilight’s shoulder. “Little Miss Magic here hasn’t been practicing her self-defense.”

Care wrapped bandages tight around her hooves. “Sounds like a personal problem to me.”

Daring Do waved her off. She hunched down before the bag. “Come on, Sparkle. You’ve got earth pony magic in you. You should be able to hit ten or eleven times what I can. You’re holding yourself back.”

Her hooves slammed into the punching bag as she hit it with a one-two-three combo. She finished up by dropping to her forehooves and twisting around to buck. Sand poofed through the seams. “See? This is about hitting solid. Hard. You aren’t gonna knock a creep-o down by slapping them.”

“Not necessarily,” Care said. She walked over to the bag, tightening the last of her wraps. “If you can hit somepony enough times in a short time-span, you can blow them off their feet.”

Twilight Sparkle sighed. “Guys, I just don’t wanna get into a fight. I can suspend a pony in midair. I can glue their hooves in place. I can freeze them if they really need taking down.” She shrugged. “I can leave the fisticuffs for experts and professionals.”

Care danced lightly on her hooves. “You wanna take down this Hurricane person, right?”

“Yeah, sure,” Twilight said. “But that’s why you’re on the team, right?”

Daring grabbed a foreleg to stretch it across her chest. “Celestia’s pretty good at magic. Hurricane took her down.”

Twilight and Care pursed their lips and looked at anything but each other. Daring shrunk in on herself. “S’what I get for having a point,” she muttered.

“I can’t force you to practice,” Care said after a moment, “but if you wanna, I’ll help out.”

“Thanks, Care.” Twilight smiled. She lowered her eyebrows and looked at the guard’s bandages. “What’re those for?”

Care double-checked her knots. “So I don’t break somepony’s nose when I kick them in the face.” She chuckled. “But really, I use a lot of side-strikes in my hoof-to-hoof. After a while, my skin starts getting a little roughed up by the training dummies.”

Daring popped her neck. “Looking for a sparring partner?”

Care raised an eyebrow. She looked Daring up and down, from her grayscale mane to her muscular legs. “You look like you can take it, I think. Sure you’re up to sparring with a guard, Miss Yearling?”

“Not every author is a flabby pony who sits on their butt all day.” Daring trotted over to the counter and wrapped her own hooves in the white wrap. “I was a guard, back in my day. Served under Sparkle’s mom.”

“Really?” Care turned to Twilight. “Who’s your mom?”

“Twilight Velvet,” Twilight said, adding another “paff” to her collection. “She’s Yearling’s editor.”

Care’s mouth fell open. “Twilight Velvet? The Twilight Velvet? As in, ‘former Captain of the Royal Guard’ Twilight Velvet?”

Daring stretched her wings, one at a time. “So you know her?”

“Not personally, but geeze.” Care bumped her forehead. “I don’t know how I didn’t make the connection. Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Equestria. Your brother’s the former Captain of the Guard and current Prince of the Crystal Empire. Of course your mom would be Captain Velvet.”

“I’m pretty sure heroism runs in their genes,” Daring said.

“Now you’ve got me curious.” Care leaned close to Twilight as the princess continued to weakly box the punching bag. “Who’s your dad? A noble knight? A former mercenary? Maybe a retired ambassador to the dragons?”

“He teaches astronomy at Canterlot Junior College.”

Paff, paff, paff.

Care pulled a face. She turned a dull stare on Daring. “Translation?”

Daring held her hooves up. “That’s all I got, too. He discovered a comet once, I guess.”

Care and Daring stood across from each other on the mat. Care fastened a padded helmet. “I’m pretty sure you guys are just messing with me.”

Daring Do tightened the chin strap on her helmet. “Seriously. His defining feature is that he hasn’t faced a titanic monster his entire life. Kicked butt when the changelings invaded Canterlot, but we were all together for that one.” She punched the air twice. “Were you even out of diapers when that happened?”

Care scrunched her muzzle. “I was thirteen.”

Daring grinned. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Care squinted. “You’re trying to get me riled up. It won’t work.”

Daring spread her wings and balanced on her hind legs. “Show me what you’ve got, rookie.”

Care hunkered down on her back legs to keep her forehooves close to her face. “No magic?”

Daring nodded, folding her wings tight. “Cool with me. No quarter asked or given?”

Care tilted her head. She lowered her hooves. “Excuse me?”

“Just a joke, rookie.” Daring rolled her hooves around each other. “You say when.”

Care clenched her teeth tight. “When.”

She kicked her back legs, sending her leaping towards Daring. She rolled and came up swinging. Ten punches hit Daring’s upraised forelegs in quick succession. Care swung a rear leg in a semicircle to catch her opponent’s, but Daring Do hopped over it.

On her way down, Daring brought her hoof towards Care’s helmet. Care clapped her hooves together and caught the punch. She twisted Daring’s foreleg, but the pegasus rolled with it, spinning through the air. Daring wrenched out of Care’s grasp and followed up with a strong uppercut.

Care leaned away to avoid the blow. She used the inertia to carry her into a back flip. She kicked her legs out and wacked Daring in her chest. The pegasus stumbled back one step.

“Whoa-ho, the rookie’s got some skill.” Daring Do dropped to all fours and bounced. “Do I detect some mastery with the way of the woodpecker?”

“I know a little, yeah.” Care Carrot wiped her nose. “What’ve you got, Yearling? Just boxing, or something I haven’t seen before?”

Daring Do jumped alongside Care. Before the unicorn could turn around, Daring slammed her shoulder into her middle. Daring wrapped her forelegs around Care’s torso and took her to the ground. After a quick scramble, all four legs were restrained in a tight hold.

“Maybe a little,” Daring grunted. “Betchya didn’t see that coming.”

Care broke a leg free, brought a knee to Daring’s side, and then rolled away. She brought her forelegs up in a ready stance. “Got me with it once…”

Daring Do jabbed, then followed up with a left hook. Care caught the first, then ducked under the second. While she was low, she let loose a flurry of hits to Daring’s side. Daring reached down to block, but Care shifted around to the pegasus’ back. She circled around, constantly moving, constantly delivering volley after volley.

Daring smacked her in the side of the head with a sweeping backhand. Her next strong uppercut landed square in Care’s shoulder. The force of the blow carried the unicorn up and over to the edge of the mat.

Care lay there for a moment, her legs in the air. She let herself flop down, her chest heaving. “Uncle.”

“And experience triumphs over youth once again!” Daring held her hooves in the air. She reached down to grasp Care’s foreleg. “Great job, Captain. Next time, try not to tire yourself out.”

Care got to her feet and pulled off her helmet. “You’re not so bad yourself, Miss Yearling.”

“Call me Amber,” Daring Do said. “Amber Kestrel Yearling.”

“Woo-hoo!” Twilight Sparkle pounded her hooves into the floor. “Go Aunt Yearling! Woo!”

“Don’t cheer too loud, Sparkle,” Daring said. “You’re next.”

Twilight froze. “Huh?”

Daring clapped a hoof on Twilight’s back. “But first we gotta teach you how to actually punch.”

Care shook her mane out. “Your Highness, I’ve been meaning to ask—”

Twilight rubbed her eyes. “‘Twilight,’ please.”

“Fine. Twilight.” Care grabbed the bag and held it while Twilight paff, paff, paffed against it. “Where’s Mister Blank? I haven’t seen him around since he arrived.”

“He’s holed up in one of the guest rooms.” Paff, paff, paff. “One of the many guest rooms. He said he wanted to keep mostly to himself.”

Care frowned. “I don’t like it. I don’t trust him. He’s hiding something.”

“My mom seems to vouch for him.” Paff, paff, paff. “I trust her.”

Daring Do did a few slow wingups. She winced each time she pushed up. “I don’t see what the big deal is. He’s just this weenie little stallion. Makes good oatmeal, maybe, but he ain’t done anything suspicious.”

“He dodges all my questions, or outright says he won’t answer.” Care brushed a lock of green mane over her shoulder. “Call me paranoid, but he’s one big…” She smacked herself in the forehead. “Blank. Of course he is.”

Daring Do took the bag from her. “Maaaybe you should stop treating every conversation like an interrogation.”

Care bit her bandages to free her hoof. “He’s a potential danger living right in the castle—”

“He’s also a potential friend.” Paff, paff, paff. “Again, my mom’s my secondary litmus test for whether something’s good or bad.”

Care shook her legs one by one. “Who’s your primary?”

Paff, paff, paff. “Spike.”

“Yeah?” the dragon in question walked in on all fours, carrying a sheet of paper. “You need something, Twi?”

“Maybe encouragement.” Twilight let her forelegs drop to her sides. “Eagh. I think I’m done for the day.”

“Good, because I just got a message from the mayor’s office.” Spike passed her the note. “You’re wanted in a meeting ASAP.”

Twilight took the sheet and skimmed it. “Does it say what Applejack wants?”

“Not a word.” Spike waved. “Hay, Aunt Yearling.”

“How’s my favorite dragon?” Daring Do squeezed Spike in a bear hug. “Getting bigger, but you’re still a little scrawny in your legs.”

Spike flexed a muscular arm. It swelled to about twice the size of Daring’s hind legs. “Whoops, guess I’ve been neglecting it.”

Twilight blew a breath through her lips. “I’ll be back later, guys. Apparently, this can’t wait.”

“We’ll hold down the fort.” Daring Do gave her a light shove. “You just do your princessy things. Change the world a little while you’re at it.”

“Should I come, too,” Care asked.

“I’d like you to come, but it says it’s a private meeting.” Twilight removed the sweat bands around her ankles. “Maybe you and D—Yearling can figure out something about the throwing knife while I’m gone.”

Care’s head snapped to Daring. “You have one of the knives?”

“Had,” Twilight said through gritted teeth. She shook her head and trotted out the door. “Just try not to kill each other, okay?”

***

Twilight Sparkle flapped her wings to slow her descent. She sighed. The protestors were already picketing City Hall. And of course, Miss Merry Mare, former Mayor of Ponyville, was already preaching to her own personal choir through a magically-enhanced megaphone.

“It’s autumn, Ponyville!” she said. “And still there is no word from Applejack whether she will restore the Nightmare Night Celebration! Are we to just lie down and take it while such a culturally important event is set aside for the selfish desires of our mayor?”

“No!” the crowd shouted.

“What will become of our children if they are deprived of candy? Of the opportunity to showcase the costumes they’ve worked so hard for?” Merry Mare gripped her podium. “All in the name of roads that have not seen an iota of improvement!”

Twilight Sparkle groaned. She nudged her way through the crowd, making sure to bump as many ponies aside as possible. She stood up next to the podium and cleared her throat.

Merry Mare narrowed her eyes behind her glasses. “May I help you, Princess?”

“Why I’d love to speak!” Twilight said, taking the megaphone from Merry. “Attention People of Ponyville! The Nightmare Night Celebration is not, in fact, cancelled! Nor was it ever. Nor will it ever be, thanks to Princess Luna!”

She smirked at Merry Mare. “What is happening is that, due to budget constraints, there will not be a complimentary apple-bobbing game, or a band from out of town. Instead, all activities and entertainment will be provided by individual citizens of Ponyville. Also, I hear Pinkie Pie’s taken a personal interest in organizing trick-or-treating this year.”

Merry scowled. She reached for the megaphone, but Twilight turned away to address a different portion of the crowd. “By the way,” Twilight said, “there is free ice cream to anypony here who brings me a poison joke flower today. Thank you.”

She turned off the megaphone, set it on the pedestal, and walked into City Hall, leaving a quietly fuming Merry Mare to address a few very confused ponies.

Inside, at a desk marked “Assistant Mayor,” Pinkie Pie tapped away at a typewriter. She muttered to herself at a volume just below shouting. “Then we could take a loop through the Berryborough cul-de-sac, which would just about double our candy intake, followed by a trip down Mane Street, and finally ending at—” She looked up with a start. “Twilight! You’re here! You’d better go in right away.”

Twilight lifted a hoof. “Is it serious?”

“I dunno, but Applejack looks nervous enough to eat her hat.” Pinkie climbed over her desk and took Twilight’s foreleg. “They won’t let me go inside. They say it’s secret.”

“They?” Twilight’s brow furrowed. “They, who?”

“I don’t know!” Pinkie waved as Twilight opened the door. “If it’s a monster, kick its butt for me!”

Twilight giggled as she shut the door. Applejack sat behind her desk, her hat clutched firmly to her chest. A cloaked pony sat in one of the two seats in front of the mayor’s desk. Twilight took the other seat. “Hay, Applejack. What’s up?”

The cloaked pony removed her hood, revealing Princess Luna. “‘What’s up’ is that Andean is coming for a visit.”

Twilight Sparkle blinked. “Oh.” She looked at Applejack, who had twisted her hat in a knot at the sound of the griffon king’s name. “Oh.”

“I believe his visit may have something to do with Celestia’s… predicament.” Luna shrugged. “Whether he had something to do with it, or is merely coming to offer condolences, it offers us a challenge.”

Twilight idly began to chew on her mane. “Isn’t this the king who almost started war over dinner?”

“Ain’t quite the exact situation, but pretty much.” Applejack’s hollow chuckle did nothing to lift her spirits. “He’s cooled down a little since then, hasn’t he?”

“Perhaps a bit. Trade has stabilized, when for many years it was touch-and-go.” Luna leaned forward. “It may have something to do with the new weapons Felaccia has been producing.”

Twilight Sparkle rubbed the base of her horn. “He wants to show off.”

“It’s possible. Though as a show of force or a demonstration of a new product, I cannot speculate.” Luna rested a hoof on Twilight’s foreleg. “But that is not quite why I called you to this meeting. His visit offers an opportunity.”

Twilight patted Luna’s hoof. “How so?”

“He will no doubt be expecting some sort of welcoming party.” Luna waved a hoof. “A ball, dinner, some sort of shindig. I believe that if we throw such a party, it may attract other attention.”

Twilight sucked in a breath. “The assassin.”

Luna nodded. “Celestia was attacked during an opera. If Hurricane was willing to attempt such a ploy during a public show, then how much moreso will she try again during a grand ball?”

Twilight shifted in her seat. “She’d have to know security will be a dozen times higher. Not only with the Royal Guard, but also Andean’s Blitzwings. She’d be crazy to attack.”

“She’d have tah be crazy to attack Celestia.” Applejack shut her eyes tight and bit her lip. “It ain’t all, Twilight.”

“What do you mean, Applejack?” Twilight asked.

“Applejack knows the king the best out of all of us.” Luna pulled her cloak tighter. “It was she who spent the most time with him during the event with the Sapience, after all. Though I must play the host, after a certain time has passed, Applejack will distract Andean, while I go off to someplace less guarded. There, I shall act as bait, and Hurricane shall come.”

Twilight jumped up and grabbed Luna’s shoulder. “Wait. Hold on—”

“And then you and your team shall jump out and subdue her.” Luna smiled calmly. “You may have your doubts about my abilities, but unlike my sister, I shall be prepared.”

“I don’t doubt your abilities; I doubt that using yourself as bait is the best plan here.”

“How else can we flush out the fiend, Twilight?” Luna stood up to her full height. Her starry mane flowed out from beneath her cloak. “She must be stopped, and if I am to put myself in harm’s way, so be it. I’m already in danger.”

Applejack tapped her hooves together. “Ah think she’s on the right track, Twi. You wanna catch a critter, you gotta use the right bait.” She gave Luna a stern look. “Ah just better find out that the bait’s still alive at the end o’ the day.”

“Thankfully, this is not fishing.” Luna rubbed her chin. “But we still need the right hook. Ideas on a celebration?”

“As cliché as it might sound,” Twilight said, “what about a Nightmare Night Masquerade?”

“Much as it would give this Hurricane fellah a chance tah blend in”—Applejack smoothed out her old hat and plopped it on her head—“there is such a thing as makin’ things too easy for them.”

“But I see opportunity for plainclothes guards.” Luna nodded. “I shall consider it. Thank you for agreeing to help, Lord Mayor.”

“Just Applejack to friends, Princess.” Applejack bowed. “Ah guess ah’ll see you gals this weekend? That’s when the party is, right?”

“That’s when Andean’s coming, yes.” Luna covered her head with the hood. Her body shrunk down to the size of an average pony. “Twilight, would you walk with me?”

Applejack leaned on her elbow. “Ah guess ah’d better make an appearance for the protestors.”

“With luck, they’re digging around the Everfree for blue flowers to exchange for ice cream.” Twilight sniggered. “I’d better buy a pint or two in case they are that dumb.”

Applejack tilted her head. Her eyes lit up with realization. “You’d better keep that junk the hay away from Sweet Apple Acres, you hear? Ah ain’t fixin’ on shrinkin’ again anytime soon.”

Twilight grinned as she slid through the door. “Goodbye, Appletini.”

“Gowan before ah kick you out.” Applejack took a large green stamp and thumped it down on the first of several requests.

Twilight Sparkle and Princess Luna walked side-by-side through the city streets. Twilight nibbled a strand of mane. “So I guess the disguise is because of the assassin?”

“I cannot very well walk around in full view of everypony, no.” Luna’s hood bowed. “It would put the ponies around me in danger.”

Luna walked in silence for a few more steps. “I have news of Celestia.”

Twilight nearly jumped out of her skin. She trembled as she kept her nervous energy from spilling out. “H-how is she?”

“She is… dreaming.” Luna sighed. “She is reliving her memories, one by one, day by day. She’s seeing each one as if for the first time.” Her steady hoof-patters faltered. “Even those that she fought so hard to overcome. She’s being crushed by sorrow. All over again.”

Twilight felt tears well up. “M-maybe it’s part of the healing process. Do you think it could have—have something to do with her heart?”

“Chance may have it.”

Twilight’s ears lay back. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Yes.” Beneath the hood, Luna’s eyes grew hard. “Catch the assassin. Bring her to justice. Make Celestia safe.”

Twilight stopped. She wrapped her forelegs around Luna. “I will. I won’t let you or her down.”

Luna kissed the top of Twilight’s head. “I know you won’t.” Her horn shone with bright magic. Blue sparks descended around her. “I go to prepare, Twilight. See you later.”

She vanished in a bright teleport. Twilight Sparkle stared at the now-empty spot, sighed, and returned to the castle.

***

Care turned the throwing knife over in her telekinetic bubble. She flipped it over to look at both sides of the burn mark. “This is it.”

“Yup.” Daring Do pulled up a page of her sketchbook, showing the marking as they’d looked before the test. “Details match Hurricane’s blades exactly. It sounds freaky, but Twilight said this pony might actually be Commander Hurricane.”

“That’s what Princess Luna thought.” Care set it down in a padded case. “Brought here through the ages… to kill alicorns, apparently.”

“And not a single clue about why.” Daring Do tugged at the ponytail her mane was tied up in. “You know what? If we run into her, feel free to interrogate all you want. I dunno how else we’re gonna get answers.”

The tea kettle whistled. Care walked through the kitchen and grabbed it with a hot pad. “One hot cocoa, coming right up. One marshmallow or two?”

“Three. If it don’t fit, make it fit.” Daring scratched her cheek. “Yanno, if this gal is the real deal, maybe history has the answers.”

Care rolled her eyes as she stirred a scoop of chocolate into the hot water. “What? Do we look for some book called Ye Olde Exposé: Why Commander Hurricane Secretly Hates Alicorns?”

“Well, it’s never that easy…” Daring Do accepted her mug and took a swig. “But you’d be surprised how much dirt you can find on the Founders just by trolling through their diaries.”

Care pulled her chair closer to Daring. “How many did that?”

“Starswirl kept a journal, obviously.” Daring counted on her feathers. “Clover had a diary, but it’s mostly full of diagrams for a bunch of magic enchantments and constructs. Real technical stuff. Chancellor Puddinghead never learned to write, but he kept in contact with the Crystal Empire by dictating to Smart Cookie. I think Princess Platinum had the minutes of the royal court read to her as a bedtime story every night. Kinda a sleep aid.”

Care blew on her cocoa. “Or a way to make sure she didn’t miss anything.”

Daring licked marshmallow fluff from her upper lip. “Huh. Maybe.”

Care did a mental headcount. “What about Hurricane and Pansy?”

“Pansy wrote poetry. Don’t think he recorded much of his own life down, unless the poems are riddles.” Daring Do glanced over her shoulder. “But this. This right here is the freaky part.” She leaned over the table and motioned Care closer. “The Royal Library locked away everything Hurricane touched.”

Care let her mouth hang open in a scowl. “And why has nopony said anything before now?”

“Because it’s a secret her writing even survives. I don’t even know if the princesses have read it. Maybe they’ve even forgotten about it.” Daring opened her eyes wide. “Some say it was nearly destroyed in a fire. Some say it’s enchanted to be unreadable. Some say it contains secrets mortal ponies were not meant to know.”

“Who are ‘some’?”

Daring snorted. “The archivists. When all you have to do is shuffle books around all day, the mind wanders.”

“We can’t go looking for a ghost story, Amber,” Care said. “This is serious.”

“I’m being serious.” Daring Do tapped a hoof to Care’s chest. “This is me being deadly serious. If we can’t track down this mare, a lot of good ponies are in danger. When you find a better lead to go on, we’ll follow that one. Until then, I think it’s time we asked Princess Luna for the key to the library vaults.”

Care smoothed the orange hair on her chest. “And if it’s nothing?”

“Then it’s nothing, but we’d at least rule something out.” Daring popped the joints in her wings. “This, my fearless Captain Carrot, is where guard work meets field work. Enjoy the ride.”

Care looked into her mug, at the last of the frothy drink. She raised it towards Daring. “To good success, then.”

Daring Do grinned. “To good success.”

They clinked the mugs and downed the last of the drink. A bright flash filled the room. They jumped up, sending their chairs to the floor, and assumed combat-ready positions.

Twilight Sparkle walked out of a cloud of magic dust. She blushed. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

They relaxed. Care picked up a chair, while Daring crossed her forelegs. “So, Sparkle,” she said, “what’s the word from the mayor?”

Twilight Sparkle spread her wings and lowered her horn. “Pick out your Nightmare Night costumes, girls.” A determined smile slid across her face. “We’ve got a plan.”

***

Wingblades flew through the air and embedded themselves into the back of a ratty old couch. The scarred mare trotted across the room and examined her handiwork. She pulled them out, one by one, and slid them between her feathers. She flew into the air and swung one wing in a strong stroke.

The blades hit the couch, burying themselves deeper.

“In other news,” the homemade radio hissed, “High Princess Luna has decided to move the Canterlot Nightmare Night Masquerade up a week to accommodate King Andean’s visit to Equestria.”

The mare floated down to the radio and turned it up. She settled herself down on her cot and flicked her ears around, searching for any sounds out of the ordinary.

“When asked how this would look with High Princess Celestia still injured, Princess Luna stated that Princess Celestia did not want life in Equestria to grind to a halt because of her injury.” The mare’s eyebrow lifted. “No word yet on who did and didn’t get onto the invitation list, but we’ll update you as soon as we find out!”

Her scar itched worse that day. Without treatment, it would soon start to burn. She pulled out her silver canister of ambrosia and daubed a little onto a cloth. She patted her injured cheek with the medicine. It cooled almost instantly.

But it didn’t heal. It never healed. It never would.

She shook her white mane and retrieved the blades still embedded in the couch. She looked around the dark, cold room she’d been staying in. A small, abandoned warehouse on the edge of Canterlot’s ledge. Owned by a pony named Dulcimer, she’d seen on the sign over the door. Only one magic-powered light still had a working bulb, so she’d set up her few pieces of furniture underneath it.

She clicked to a different channel. “You’re listening to ‘Good Afternoon, Ponyville!’ Next up is Sweetie Belle with her hit—”

Click.

“Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of ponies? The Shadowfright know—”

Click.

The next channel burst out with a series of screeches, thumps, and beeps that caused the mare to press her wings to her ears. She slammed a hoof down on the radio, shutting it off.

All was quiet.

A cold chill permeated the room. The scarred mare wrapped her wings around her body to hold in warmth. She shut her eyes tight and gritted her teeth.

A long, low sigh, like an ancient beast coming awake, reverberated around the warehouse. The mare opened her eyes and stared at her hooves. Slowly, hesitantly, she lifted her head and looked at the far corner of the room.

Just beyond the glow of the overhead lamp, just before the shadows enveloped everything in darkness, there sat a mirror. The frame was gold, molded into vine-like swirls and leafy spirals. The mirror was smoother than should have been physically possible, flat down to the molecules.

The scarred mare’s hooves shook as she took a step towards the mirror. The sigh sounded once more, accompanied by air blowing past her mane. Her heart raced. She forced herself to take even breaths. But even with that, she had to fight her own sense of panic every step of the way.

She stood before the mirror, but there was no reflection. There was only a gray, swirling mass of clouds. She prostrated herself, no longer daring to look into the void. Her teeth chattered as another sigh, another breath, touched her body.

“Kill the younger alicorn.”

With that, the chill in the air disappeared. The feeling of panic resided. The presence left the room.

The scarred mare stood, brushed herself off, and bowed her head. “As you have said, Master.”

Author's Note

I changed Mayor Mare's name to Merry across all my stories. I don't know why it took me this long to figure out, but sometimes you need time to think things through.

Costumes

It was warm for an autumn day on Canter Mountain. Mist surrounded the towering stone monolith, obscuring the capital city from view. From within the city itself, the outside world was bleak white. Ponies could barely see a block away before details were obscured by the enormous cloud.

Princess Luna rubbed her eyes as she walked down a lineup of Royal Guards. “Have the Weather Ponies on duty been alerted yet?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Snipe Hunt said. “They should have the fog cleared within the hour. The captain sends his apologies. There was apparently a freak accident at the local cloud bank.”

“Freak accident. Truly.” Luna snorted. She stared off into the mist and worried her lower lip. “Three guesses who the freak was. Stolen ambrosia from the hospital, damage to the cloud bank, an attempted assassination, murder at the construction site… This mare has quite the repertoire.”

Snipe and Skyhook shared a glance. The latter tilted his head towards Luna. “You think they’re all done by the same pony, your Majesty?”

“I feel quite comfortable blaming any and all of my problems on her.” Luna’s ears twitched at the hint of a deep buzzing noise. “Here comes another one.”

Two full lines of Royal Guards snapped to attention, their alternating gold and silver armor clattering in response. Luna’s personal guards closed in on her flanks, their eyes burning holes in the air straight ahead. Luna herself did her level best to mimic her sister by standing tall, spreading her wings, and raising a regal hoof.

The prow of an airship cut through the clouds, parting the mist in its slow approach to the docks. A long, sharp rod led the way, followed by an almost cylindrical cloth envelope. Metal rigging webbed around the air pocket like the ribcage of a dragon. Stabilizing wings swiveled and rotated on hinges. Propellers whirled on the sides and back of the airship. Steam poured from mechanical devices near the aft, driving the gears found all throughout the dirigible.

The bridge— a rounded box with equally spaced windows—was atop the midpoint of the metallic skeleton. Luna could almost see the griffons scurrying around inside, relaying and obeying orders. She laid her ears flat when the airship docks sounded out with their bellowing foghorn.

Now that it was closer, she was able to see the ship’s entire body. It was shaped like a fish with a narrow front end, wide middle, and tapered rear. It even had the vertical tail of a salt-water fish. It turned as it lumbered towards the mountain, showcasing its starboard side.

The side opened up. A phalanx of griffon soldiers stood at attention, spears gripped in their talons. The first line stepped forward, flared their wings, and dropped off the edge in concert. Each additional line of griffons did the same, until the entire squad was circling overhead in aligned V-formations.

“The airship would be enough for some people,” Luna murmured. Shardscale could be heard scribble, scribble, scribbling off to the side.

A larger griffon flew from the airship’s hanger. His wingspan was the width of a city street. His talons could crush a cart. His eyes could see for miles. His beak was sharp as a razor. A mane of feathers framed the bare-skinned head of a condor, while bear claws scraped the air behind him. A ceremonial sword the size of a lamppost hung from his side, decorated with veins of gold and crowned with a ruby pommel stone.

He landed with a rush of wind. The platform shook from his sheer heft as he marched towards Luna. He turned his head sideways to look her in the eye. “High Princess Luna. It’s a shame we can’t meet under better circumstances.”

“King Andean Ursagryph.” She gave him a polite nod. “An impressive display, as usual.”

Andean grinned. He opened his beak wide and shouted at his soldiers. “Kretchwaugh! Fetack!”

The griffons, Andean’s Blitzwings, thundered down from the sky. They landed in five perfect rows of five behind their king, their wings folded and their spears upright.

Andean’s sharp eyes surveyed the city. “Perhaps you should let us loose. All Blitzwings have some experience with weather manipulation.” He smirked. “Though with not nearly the raw ability of a pegasus, of course.”

“While it is kind of you to offer help, I must decline.” Luna’s eyes flicked to one griffon soldier after another, all of which were staring dispassionately at her own guards. “You are guests here, and we have our own people removing the problem.”

Andean cocked a brow. His talons danced as he raised his foreleg. “‘Removing’ the problem, are you? Decisive. I like it.”

“I hope the rest of the trip is similarly to your liking.” Luna turned, joined by her assembled guards. “If you will follow me, I will show you to your suite.”

“Not just yet, Princess.” Andean held up a talon. He turned his eyes to the airship as it docked. “We still have some unpacking to do.”

Luna’s jaw tightened. “I am sure the servants can handle it.”

Andean harrumphed. “You misunderstand. Some in my flock aren’t necessarily the strongest of fliers. I won’t leave them behind.”

Luna gave him a curt nod. “Then I shall lead the way.”

Ropes looped within rings as they drew the airship into the harbor. Clamps the size of small buildings rose from below to grab the ship and allow it to rest. A gangplank extended from the vessel’s hanger, acting as a bridge. Griffon servants hurried across the bridge with luggage strapped to their backs. Behind them, accompanied by a few particularly strong griffon soldiers, were two young girls. The littler one fluttered her wings and rushed forward. “Sheesha!”

She leapt into Andean’s embrace, her fuzzy head rubbing against his chest. She was small enough to fit in the palm of his talon. “Kretchwaugh gawrock!”

“Manners, Stella,” Andean said. “We’re in Equestria, now.”

“Oh, right.” She looped her lion’s tail around a talon and bowed her head bashfully. “The… Blitzwings were wonderful, Father.”

He smiled and tapped her beak. “As usual.”

The elder griffon girl curtsied to Luna. “Thank you for allowing us to visit, High Princess.”

“We are…” Luna smiled. “We are honored to have you. It’s a pleasant surprise. I didn’t know Andean was bringing you two.”

“How could I pass up a chance for my daughters to see the Equestria they’ve heard so much about?” King Andean nudged his littlest daughter forward. “High Princess Luna, please allow me to introduce Princess Stella, my youngest.” He rested a wingtip on the other griffon. “And my eldest, Princess Corona.”

Belatedly, Stella also curtsied. “Will we see Princess Celestia raise the sun?”

Andean smirked. “Yes, where is the ‘Sun’s Sovereign?’ Dealing with some sort of fallout from the fog, I assume.”

Luna’s reply got caught in her throat. Her eyes turned down before focusing on Andean’s. “You mean you have not…”

As a frown spread across Andean’s face, Luna bent down to Stella’s level. “I’m sorry, Princess,” she said, “but Celestia is not feeling well. If you wish, I can wake you in the morning to watch the sunrise.”

“Princess Celestia gets sick?” Corona asked. “I thought you said she was immortal, Father.”

“Yes, but she is still a pony.” Andean’s expression darkened a few shades. “A fallible, yet unfathomably wise, pony.” The thundercloud around his head disappeared as he turned to Stella. “Why don’t you and Corona follow the guards to your room? You can get set up and ready for the party tonight. Do you have your costumes ready?”

At eager nods from both, he chuckled and sent them on their way. He stopped laughing as soon as his daughters were out of sight. “Celestia is ill, is she?”

“There was an assassination attempt a few weeks ago. I had assumed Felaccia got word of it.” Luna shook her head. “It appears I was wrong.”

Andean reached into a pocket at his side. He pulled out two smooth stones, which he rolled around in his fist. “How successful was the attempt?”

“She is hurt, but recovering,” Luna said. “I have taken over her duties in the meantime.”

“Indeed. Then I suppose it’s you I need to speak to.” He took a stone in each talon and held them a few inches apart. He let one go, and it jumped to the other. “You may have surmised that this is not necessarily a holiday.”

“It rarely is, to a griffon.”

“Ouch.”

“You’re too practical, Andean.” Luna held her head high. “You may as well spit it out. Why did you visit?”

“Advertising.” He tossed the rocks in the air. They clattered together as they fell back to his waiting talon. “There’s been a breakthrough, and I wish to share it with the world. For a price.”

Luna nodded. She started walking with Andean at her side. The guards followed at a respectful distance. “Very well,” she said. “What sort of price?”

“Ambrosia.” Andean scratched his beard of feathers. “How do you feel about a little bit of noise at your Nightmare Night party?”

***

The sun sank low over Canterlot as Daring Do and Care Carrot exited the train car. Daring gave her grayscale mane an extra ruffle and set a pith helmet on her head.

“You’re dressing up as… Daring Do?”

Care stared at Daring as the latter paraded around in her traditional khaki shirt. Daring tossed her mane. “Yeah? So?”

“It’s sort of all…” Care tilted her head. “It seems kinda circular. Maybe redundant? A little egotistical?”

“Look, if an author doesn’t shill her own stuff, nopony else will either.” Daring adjusted her hat. “This is grade-A authentic movie merchandise, I’ll add.” She squinted. “And what are you supposed to be, a diamond dog?”

Care jerked her head back. She polished a gem-studded bracelet on her hoof. “I’m Radiance. From the Power Ponies. One of my favorite superheroes when I was a kid.” She looked over her diamond-patterned jumpsuit. “I thought I did pretty well with the design.”

“Yeah, sure thing, Cap.” Daring glanced around Canterlot’s train station with a huff. “What’s taking Sparkle so long? We’ve got a schedule to keep! The Masquerade starts in two hours.”

“Give her a few moments. She’s gotta… gotta…” Care slapped her forehead. “I’m going to meet my idol dressed like a clown.”

“Huh? Your idol?” Daring Do lowered an eyebrow before smiling. “Oh yeah, Velvet. Heh. Gotta be careful who and what you worship.”

A car a short ways down opened up. Twilight Sparkle strode out, covered in a simple brown, hooded cape. Her mane was done up in a braid that looped over her shoulder. “Ready to head to the castle?”

Daring Do stretched her wings out slowly. “You’re wearing your Clover the Clever costume again this year?”

“Hay, it’s a nice costume.” Twilight flipped the hood back. “It’s made of authentic sackcloth.”

“Sounds itchy.” Daring waved her forward. “Come on, come on, time’s wasting. Let’s get this teleport over with.”

Twilight shook her head. “I’m not teleporting us. I can’t risk exhausting my magic before we run into the assassin. Otherwise I’d have just teleported us from Ponyville and cut the trip time into thousandths.”

They stood inside the marbled, gold-swirled epicenter of the station. The setting sun shone through the windows, casting an orange glow over everything. Twilight Sparkle gestured towards the front gate. “Hail a carriage and see what you can do to set up our little surprise. I’m gonna go meet my parents.”

Daring Do rubbed her forelegs to get the tingling feeling out of them after sitting for so long. “Avoiding another lecture?”

“It’s just been a while since I dropped by.” Twilight shook her head. “I told them that they shouldn’t come to the party, but you know my mom. She smells that something’s up.”

Care wrinkled her forehead. “So you’re gonna make sure they get here and home okay.”

Twilight’s wings drooped beneath her cape. “I don’t usually invite my parents to assassination attempts.”

“Hay, it’ll be fine.” Daring placed a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder. “We’ll keep it nice and contained, away from the party. Hurricane won’t know what hit her.”

Care adjusted the gems in her mane. “If she does, she’ll have about enough time to curse her rotten wings.”

“Yeah, that.” Daring chucked Twilight’s foreleg. She grabbed Care and made her way to the gate. “Go on, Sparkle. We’ll be ready when you get back. Warn Velvet that I’m gonna say hi sometime tonight.”

Twilight waited until they were outside before turning away and spreading her wings. Her left wing bumped into the chest of a passing stallion, just about knocking the wind out of him.

Twilight covered her mouth. “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry! I didn’t even see you there!”

“It’s alright,” the stallion wheezed as he clutched a pink hoof to his chest. “I’ll manage…” He looked up and his eyes widened. “Your Highness. It’s been a while.”

Twilight Sparkle folded her wings against her sides and helped him up. “I’m sorry, I don’t recall…”

The stallion chuckled to himself. “You might remember me as the colt who always pulled your tail in magic kindergarten.”

“D-Dulcimer?” A smile broke out across Twilight’s face. “It really is you! I haven’t seen you since you were a palace servant!”

Dulcimer grinned. “I haven’t seen you since the coronation. You seem to be moving up in the world, Princess.”

“Well, what about you? Viscount of the Blueblood Estate, of all places.” Twilight shifted her eyes from side to side. “How’d you manage to convince Blueblood to name you that?”

“I basically carried him through secondary school,” Dulcimer said. “He may not have learned anything, but by golly he memorized it. I suppose he thought he owed me a favor.”

“Knowing Blueblood, he probably did.” Twilight smirked and spread her wings. “So you’re gonna be at the Nightmare Night Masquerade?”

“Absolutely.” Dulcimer lifted a golden ticket from his jacket pocket. “Being viscount has a few perks. Maybe we should take a few moments to catch up.”

“It’ll have to be later; I’ve got to pick up my parents.” She walked backwards, flapping her wings slowly. “So, I’ll see you at the party, I guess.”

“See you then.” Dulcimer waved a hoof. “I’ll… ah… I’ll save a dance for you. Sound good?”

“Uh. Yeah, sure.” Twilight felt her cheeks warm up. “That sounds great. See you then. On the dance floor.”

Dulcimer pursed his lips. Just before she took off, he added, “Great Clover the Clever costume, by the way!”

Her wings flapped erratically. She flashed him a smile and jumped into the air. “It was great seeing you again!”

Dulcimer watched her fly off. He took a deep breath in and straightened his collar. “I couldn’t have planned it better.”

The sun sank beneath the horizon just as Twilight touched down outside her family’s house. It was squeezed between the building on either side, tall and thin. Small candles burned in the windows, casting an inviting light. She knocked on the door, and was almost instantly greeted with a clatter.

“Coming, coming.” The door latch clicked. A blue-coated stallion opened the door, a bright smile on his face. “Twilight! You look absolutely adorable.”

Twilight wrapped him in a tight hug. “Hi, daddy.” She held him at foreleg’s length. “Wh-what are you dressed as?”

Night Light looked down at his ensemble of cloth wraps. He lifted a turban onto his head. “This? I’m the Djinni of the Lamp. From One Thousand and One Evenings? Remember that book?”

Twilight giggled. “I remember that djinn tend to be trouble. Better be careful what I wish for.” She wiped her hooves on the welcome mat. “Where’s Mom?”

“Still getting a few last-minute things put together,” Night Light said. “We should have time, though. You’re teleporting us, right?”

“Well, actually, no.” Twilight nibbled on a strand of her mane. She switched to sucking on a caramel candy from a nearby bowl. “There’s something I need to do tonight that might need a bit of magic. Don’t wanna drain myself too much. There’s a carriage coming to pick us up.”

“Oh, well that’s fine.” Night nearly tripped on his own robes. “I’ll just go encourage your mother to hurry it up.”

“You do that.” Twilight snorted. “Good luck.”

***

“Ladies and gentlecolts,” King Andean Ursagryph announced. “What you see before you is a marvel of modern engineering!”

He was dressed in a loose-fitting shirt, heavy boots, a tri-corner hat, and an eye patch. “The Dread Pirate Blackfeather,” he had called himself when he and his daughters entered the ballroom. Stella laughed with delight while Corona shook her head with a gentle smile.

The nobleponies and honored guests at the Nightmare Night Masquerade were decorated in a wide variety of costumes. From simple mask and dress combinations, to accurate replicas of historic figures, to ponies from popular culture.

“Please be warned that these are highly trained griffon warriors,” Andean continued. “These tools are not to be trifled with.”

Five Blitzwings stood at attention behind him, holding their spears tight. The spearpoints were not attached to the end of the rod, but off to the side. They curved forward until they ran parallel with the length of the shaft itself. Instead of the head, a shining tube was fused to the end.

On one cleared-out end of the ballroom, a series of training dummies had been set up. The griffons swiveled to face them and lowered their spears.

“Magic powder from faraway lands.” Andean clenched his talon. “Iron ripped from the mountains of home. Wood carved from the Beefland forests!” He pointed to the waiting targets. “All to call upon the fire of the dragons!”

A roar shocked the hearts of the partygoers as flame erupted from the ends of the spears. The dummies crumpled, their cloth hides shredded by flying pellets of iron.

“People of Equestria,” Andean said, “the volleygun.”

Hoof pumped the ground as the crowd applauded. Two pair didn’t join in. Care Carrot circled around the edge, looking past the enthusiasm for things that didn’t fit. Her eyes jumped from guest to guest, appraising them.

“Yer lookin’ jumpier than a sheep in a lion’s den.”

Care crouched, ready to send her hooves into the pony’s chest. She relaxed when she saw it was Lord Mayor Applejack, dressed as a breezie. “Maybe I am.”

Applejack adjusted the giant purple wig on her head. “Nice costume. Looks jus’ like the real thing.”

Care returned her attention to the guests. “You’re a fan of the Power Ponies?”

“Ah’ve had experience with ’em.” Applejack made a face like she’d eaten an unexpected firepepper. “Trust me when ah say stay away from Enchanted Comics.”

Care observed a servant as he slid expertly between ponies. “They shut that place down years ago. Mister Quesadilla got nailed for selling reality-altering texts to minors.” She pouted. “Not all comic shops are evil.”

“Spike still seems to like ’em good enough.” Applejack shrugged her shoulder, which caused her fake wings to flap. She sighed. “Looks like it’s just about showtime.”

Luna, who was not wearing a costume at all, lifted her head close to Andean’s to listen. She made a reply, and then flapped her left wing once.

Applejack clicked her tongue. “Eeyup. That’s mah cue.” She looked up at the pegasi who had decided to hover around instead of stand. “Where’s Darin’ Do? Ah figured she’d be getting’ a bird’s eye view.”

“Yearling’s probably at the bar, pretending she’s ordering a drink.” Care grimaced. “I hope she’s pretending, anyhow.”

Care saw the same servant walk past with a tray on his back. His coat was black, and his mane was pure white. He walked with his hooves close together, almost shuffling his way around. He kept his head low and his eyes downcast most of the time.

When they weren’t down, they were focused on Prince Blueblood.

Care narrowed her eyes. “Hay, can you hold off Luna for a few minutes? I gotta hunch.”

“A hunch, huh?” Applejack shrugged. “Ah live an’ breath hunches, so go with yer gut. Y’ got maybe five minutes.”

Care walked behind the servant at a slow, steady pace. She closed in on him gradually, doing her best not to appear as though she was focused on him. When they were finally beside each other, she nudged him with her flank.

The tray on his back rattled. He steadied it with a hoof. “I-I-I’m sorry, p-please excuse—” His eyes met hers. His voice deepened in the middle of his sentence. “Excuse me, madam. May I assist you with something?”

“Yeah. You can get me a quiet room.” She looped her foreleg around his and dragged him towards the kitchens. “Mister Blank.”

The servant’s pupils shrunk. “I’m afraid I haven’t the slightest—”

“Can it.” Care pushed the kitchen doors open and shoved him inside. “I’m on to you, spy.”

***

Applejack cleared her throat and stepped closer to the griffon king. “Howdy, Andean.”

Her throat dried out as she realized anew just how large he was compared to ponies. The smallest adult griffon could give the biggest stallion a run for their money, and Andean was definitely not the smallest griffon. His beak alone could fit her entire head inside easily.

She suddenly found herself wishing Big Mac was there. “Been a while, ain’t it?”

“Lord Mayor Applejack.” Andean gave Luna a glance. “You are the exact last pony I expected to greet me during my stay here.”

“Well, ah know we didn’t exactly part on the best of terms…” She rubbed the back of her neck. “But that was awhile ago, right? Ain’t no reason to hold a grudge.”

Andean tapped a talon against the floor. “That’s rather big of you.” He smiled wide. “While you’re here, why not introduce you to my daughters?” He raised a few feathers. “Corona, Stella, come here, please.”

Corona was dressed as a purple dragon with a green underbelly. Stella was painted white, covered in sparkles, and wore a five-point star around her neck. Andean bent down to their level. “This, my daughters, is the famous Lord Mayor Applejack. Hero—”

“Hero of Equestria!” Stella yelped. “Bearer of the Element of Honesty! Gawrock pochy!”

She clutched her tiny talons together and opened her eyes wide. “C-can I hug her?”

Corona’s beak fell open. “You know Spike, Legendary Hero of the Crystal Empire?”

“Uh…” Applejack held a hoof to her chest as she searched for something to say. “How d’you—?”

“Sheesha—” Stella covered her beak. “Sorry. Father’s bedtime stories. You’re the one of the heroes in them.” Her fuzzy face looked on in awe. “Did you really kick a manticore in the face?”

“Uh…” Applejack looked at Luna, who was staring off into the crowd. “Uh, actually, that was Rarity.”

“I apologize, Andean, but I have some things I must attend to.” Luna bowed her head. “I trust we’ll continue our talks at a later date?”

“Of course.” Andean clicked his beak. “I think my daughters and I shall remain occupied for the rest of the evening.”

“Uh, Princess Luna, uh…” Applejack tapped the alicorn on the shoulder. “Ah had this question to ask about, uh—”

Luna’s horn glowed with a faint spell. A tiny voice spoke in Applejack’s ear. “If you are trying to cover for Care, your intentions are honorable but they may result in permanent damage. Please excuse me.”

“Ah’ll save it fer later,” Applejack said. “Enjoy the party.” She turned to the griffon girls. “Now what were you wonderin’ ’bout Spike?”

***

Care pressed a hoof to the servant’s throat and backed him against the stove. “Who are you really, Blank? Huh?”

“Y-you’ve got the w-wrong pony!” the black-coated servant yelped. “I-I have no idea who this—”

“Who this pony is who just happens to have the exact same voice?” Care lit her horn, which intensified from pink to orange. “Who just so happens to have the exact same speech pattern? You didn’t even try to hide your gait and posture, Blankety Blank.”

“I-it isn’t what it l—” The servant’s voice cut off when Care leaned against his throat.

“If it isn’t what it looks like, what is it?” she snarled. “Who are you working for?”

“He is working for me,” Princess Luna said.

Care turned her head, but didn’t let Blankety Blank go. “For you.”

“He has his own mission, just as you have yours.” Luna took a breath in through her nose. “And you are going to be late for your part in it.”

Care lowered her hooves. The stallion slumped to the floor, rubbing his neck. She walked past Luna without a word and headed back to the party.

“You are not supposed to be here, Mister Blank,” Luna said. “I was told Twilight Velvet explained the concepts of both vacations and deep cover.”

“I h-had to follow my mi-mission.” Blankety rose slowly to his hooves. “I d-didn’t think a whole new persona was n-n-necessary.”

“It certainly is now.” Luna frowned. “Is Blueblood in danger?”

“N-no more than usual.” Blank closed his eyes and tasted the air. “M-most of the em-m-motions are excitement and a-anticipation. Nothing h-harmful.”

Luna sighed. “Keep looking for that solid evidence, Blankety Blank. I believe the attempted assassination of both Blueblood and my sister are related.”

“Y-yes, ma’am.” Blank engulfed himself in green flames, reconfiguring his face, body, mane, and tail. A red and blue pegasus mare, dressed in servants clothes, winked at the princess. “Pip, pip, marm.”

“Please do not call me ‘marm,’” Luna said. “And do not say ‘pip, pip.’ It is not you.”

The servant chewed the inside of her cheek. “Exactly.”

***

“We are so late.”

Twilight Sparkle rode in the carriage facing backwards. She stared out the window at the ground they’d already covered. “We are late, late, late, late, late.”

“What’s the big deal, honey?” Twilight Velvet asked. She stuck her bubble pipe between her teeth. “We’re always a little late. Fashionably.”

“I think that’s just you, dear,” Night Light said.

Twilight fidgeted with her braid. “Yeah, but if I’m late this time something catastrophic could happen.”

Velvet leaned out the side window. “Snipe Hunt, how long until we arrive?”

Snipe Hunt, who was hitched to the carriage’s reigns, called back. “We’ll be there in less than ten minutes, Chief Velvet. We’re just passing Dulcimer’s construction project.”

“See? We’re nearly there.” Velvet placed a deerstalker cap on her head. “Now, don’t I just look the part of Fetlock Hooves? Hmm?”

“We even have Princess Luna’s personal guard with us, Twilight.” Night Light squeezed his daughter’s shoulder. “Everything will be just fine.”

Twilight Sparkle rested her head on her foreleg. “But what if it’s not?”

***

Luna opened the doors wide and stepped into the gardens. The bright lights of the party gave way to the dusky blues and silvers of the night. The doors shut with a final thump.

She looked up and saw Shardscale atop the roof, recording everything she saw through a skylight. The alicorn princess sighed and walked to the center of the garden, where the ancient oak sat idle and leafless.

Daring Do watched from a high window. “How much easier does it need to get for this Hurricane pony to show up?”

Care shushed her.

A moment later, Daring spoke up again. “Twilight should be here by now. What’s keeping her?”

Care shushed her more forcefully, planting a hoof to her lips.

“Of for the love of—” Daring pushed the brim of her pith helmet up. “You wanna shush something, shush the stinking griffon volleyguns. Nearly jumped out of my skin when they went off.”

“Do you understand the definition of clandestine?” Care hissed. “Hurricane could show up any moment and you’re worried about a little noise?”

Daring flashed her a flat grin. “Isn’t that what you’re complaining about? A little noise?” She grumbled and planted her nose against the window. “Do you think we can even take her without Twilight to help?”

“We’ll have to.” Care’s head turned sharp towards the door. “There! Something’s coming out.”

A small, gray lump darted through the shadows. Daring scratched her forehead. “Looks smaller than I expected.”

“Shush!” Care opened the window without a sound. Her horn glowed bright in preparation to light a flare. “Three, two—”

“Princess Luna?” a voice squeaked. “Princess Luna? Did you come out here?”

Luna turned and beheld a short, fuzzy, sparkly griffon. “Princess Stella?” She looked at the rooftops around the courtyard, just in time to see Care’s horn fizzle out. “You shouldn’t be out here. You should be at the party with—”

“I wanted to see you,” the girl cheeped. “You’re one of the oldest persons in the world. You must know a million stories!”

“It will have to wait, little one.” Luna extended a wing towards the oak tree. “Skyhook, please return the princess to her father.”

The bat pony in question materialized from among the branches. He dropped to the ground and held a hoof out to Stella. He smiled as best he could without showing fangs. “Come with me, Stella. There’s something Princess Luna needs to do alone.”

“Aw. I wanted to hear—” Stella’s shiny wings dragged along the ground as she took the guard’s hoof. “Okay. I’m sorry for bothering you.”

“Later, Princess Stella.” Luna swallowed hard. “Later, I shall tell you the grandest story I know.”

“Thank you.” Stella looked up. “Do you know any stories, Mister Bat Pony?”

Skyhook chuckled even as he scanned the skies. “Oh, many. Have your heard the one about how the Crystal Empire returned?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. How about when the plunder vines kidnapped the princesses?”

“Uh huh.”

Luna smiled despite herself. The leaves on the ground and in the bushes rustled as the wind picked up. She spread her wings and felt the air blow through her feathers. “Perhaps one story?” she whispered to herself.

She stared at the moon that had been under her charge for so long. She hummed softly to herself, an old tune, close to her heart. One written just after Celestia had raised the sun for the first time.

“Wake up and see the rising morning light
Its stands so tall, a symbol of our might
Freedom from the chains of evildoers is our right
And so we wake and see the morning light”

Stella slowed. She dragged against Skyhook’s grip to listen.

“Look out and see the early morning light
She calls us to the battlefield, there monsters we must fight
With her at our helm we’ll set the evil ones to flight
And so we look out at the morning light”

Luna blinked. Her ears twitched this way and that to catch noises that were not her own voice.

“Stand tall and watch the shining morning light
She burns up our enemies and harries them from sight
She’ll never forego her battling despite
The ones who stand against the morning light”

The temperature dropped. Shardscale’s wings spread to cover her body, even as she dipped her nose into the skylight. Luna stood up, her expression firm.

“Awake and see the rising morning light
Her sun comes to banish all the shadows of the night
Daylight reveals the furthest depths and greatest height
Awake, my friends, for the rising morning light

“Commander Hurricane?” Luna trotted around the tree. “Commander Hurricane? I’m here! I’m waiting! You sought to slay my sister and failed! Do you now seek to slay me as well? Do you seek to see your entire legacy undone? Here I am! Face me now, thou monster!”

Stella twisted away from Skyhook. She ran towards the princess, jumping from bush to bush. The guard rushed after her, his keen, sensitive eyes never losing sight of her. “Stella, come back! It’s dangerous out here!”

“Why keep to the shadows now, villain?” Luna shouted. The wind whipped her starry mane across her face. “When you made such a spectacle of your attack on Celestia! Come forth now and face me! Face me and die!”

Daring Do leapt out of the window, her wings locked in a glide. Care lowered a rope ladder and shimmied down. The leaves whirled around the oak tree in a tornado of autumn colors, lit by the light of the full moon.

The wind stopped. The leaves settled down as though they had not been disturbed in the first place. Everypony paused, their breath held, their muscles tense.

Stella pushed herself through a bush. She touched Luna’s hoof. “Princess? What happened?”

Luna glared at the sky. She winced and lowered her head. “I don’t know, child. I don’t know.”

The temperature rose back to the cool night air, rather than the harsh chill of before. Luna’s eyes gradually opened wider, her ears drooping in concert. “Did I do the right thing, sister?”

***

Snipe Hunt’s hooves clomped against the road as they rolled past the construction site. Twilight had unbraided her mane and re-braided it several times that night. “I should be there.”

“Twilight,” Velvet said, “it will be fine. Luna’s a tough pony. If she can’t handle something, then she can hold out until you get there.” She reached across the car and touched her daughter’s cheek. “If you’re that worried, then leave us. We’ll be well taken care of. You go and save the day again.”

Twilight held her hoof over her mother’s. “These are dangerous times. I’m not leaving you guys alone on a night like this.”

“We can handle ourselves.” Twilight Velvet chuckled. “Give me a pony and see if I don’t knock them on their butt in ten minutes. Have a little faith in us.”

“I can definitely vouch for your mother,” Night Light said. “After over thirty years of marriage, I should know—” At an elbow to the ribs, he clarified. “Thirty years of blissful marriage that seem like less than a day in hindsight.”

“That’s a stretch, dear.” Velvet giggled. “Really, Twilight. Go for it.”

“I’ll be right here beside them, your Highness,” Snipe Hunt said. “If anything happens, they’ll have to go through me to—”

The roof buckled as something heavy fell on it. Iron claws ripped through the sides of the carriage. The entire vehicle tilted to the side as it was lifted into the air. Velvet fell on her husband, while Twilight Sparkle screeched and steadied herself with her hooves and wings.

The windows were blocked off by the massive iron talons of the construction site’s crane. The suspended carriage rotated slowly, giving them a view of all around. Twilight peered through the bars of their makeshift cage and spotted the crane’s control box.

Standing at the box, her hoof on a joystick, was the scarred mare. She opened a wing, sending razor-sharp blades flying at them.

Author's Note

Sike!

Rectify

The blades thudded deep into the wood on the sides of the carriage. One slid past the claws of the crane and to the roof. Twilight pressed herself against the wall, out of sight. “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh. No, no, no, no, no.”

“Stay away from the windows,” Velvet hissed. She pressed her husband back. “She’s gonna be looking for movement.” She gripped her pipe tight between her teeth. “You know this joker, Twilight?”

“A-a-asss-assss…” Twilight swallowed hard. She was finally able to squeak out, “She’s the assassin.”

Twilight Velvet turned her head in shock. She pulled it back just before a blade entered the car. It zipped through the window on the other side and hit the building across the street. “Plan?”

The crane rotated a few degrees before halting abruptly. The carriage shook. For one brief instant they could see Snipe Hunt’s body crushed between the crane and the carriage. The crane spun again, this time carrying them over the sandy floor of the construction site.

“Teleport,” Twilight said. “But only you two. I have to stop her.”

Night Light shook his head. “You aren’t going to face her alone, young la—”

“Get dad out of here.” Twilight punched her hooves into the floor of the carriage. In an instant, she had ripped a gaping, pony-sized hole out of the floorboards. She removed her cape and gripped it in a bubble of magic. Her horn flashed pure white. The cloth vanished and reappeared in midair a few meters away, where it was pelted by knives. “Go!”

She dived through the hole while the scarred mare was distracted. She flapped her wings to gain altitude, but the wind was against her. It swirled around the construction site like a vacuum, pulling her back. She dared to look over her shoulder and saw the assassin flying straight at her. Twilight cupped her wings and allowed the wind to pull her towards the mare. She lashed out with all four hooves, but her target juked out of the way.

The scarred mare twirled and threw a wingblade Twilight’s way. Twilight vanished in a cloud of embers and reappeared on the ground. She fired a beam of pure kinetic force and clipped the assassin’s wing. The mare fell into a tailspin, but landed on all four feet. She charged headfirst at Twilight, her cold, gray eyes narrowed in concentration.

Twilight counted down to zero. On the mark, she teleported herself behind the mare.

The scarred mare dug her hooves into the sand. She used her own momentum to spin around, snapping a wing out as she did so. When Twilight reappeared, it was with several deadly blades flying at her. She flinched back and constructed a hasty shield.

Each of the blades slice through the barrier, followed by her rear left leg and right wing. She shrieked and stumbled back. The mare charged again, landing a headbutt square in the middle of Twilight’s chest. She carried Twilight for a ways, battering her with her wings. She threw Twilight to the ground and stomped once on her stomach.

Twilight gritted her teeth and bucked the mare underneath the chin.

The scarred mare landed three meters away. She stood slowly, nursing her jaw with a chipped hoof. She cracked her neck and marched forward.

“Is… is that all you got?” Twilight said. Her body shook from the adrenaline coursing through her veins. “I’ve fought changeling drones that hit harder!”

The mare scratched the scar on her cheek. She sneered. “As have I.”

Twilight let loose another kinetic blast. The mare danced nimbly to the side. She fired again and again, with the same result reach time. She charged, her horn lowered with a paralyzing spell on the tip. The scarred mare took flight, her wings churning up the sand on the ground. Twilight turned her head away as her eyes stung.

The mare landed shoulder-first on Twilight’s back, sending her to the ground. She lay into Twilight with blow after blow, striking as many sensitive points as she could. When Twilight lashed out with a wing, she backflipped away. Twilight sat up and glared at the mare.

The assassin opened both wings, held them out, and then swung them at Twilight.

Twilight Sparkle’s eyes widened. She counted quickly. Thirteen blades. Level plain of approach. Consistent speed. Her horn strobed purple as she sent a concussive blast at each blade, one after the other. They either deflected or crumpled in the face of her magic.

The mare with the scarred cheek gaped. She took a step back. “How… how did thou do that?”

“I did the math,” Twilight said, drawing magic to her horn. “Plug and chug, baby.”

The next spell sent the scarred mare flipping end over end into the crane. She slumped to the ground and groaned. Twilight teleported over her. She pressed a hoof into the mare’s back. “So. You wanna tell me why you’re gonna spend the next few thousand years rotting in a dungeon, murderer?”

The mare looped her foreleg around Twilight’s. She threw the princess off-balance and brought her forehead to the side of her head. Twilight yelped as the assassin threw her to the ground and restrained her limbs.

“Rectification.”

***

“How long are we gonna wait around here for, Princess?” Care said. She walked around the edge of the garden’s seating area. “It’s been a good twenty minutes.”

“Maybe we ought to go looking for her,” Daring said. She rested her back against a stone bench. “Maybe she’s waiting until we move away from the dragon over there.”

Luna glanced to the doorway. Her wings were wrapped tight around her body. Bags hung under her eyes. “Skyhook hasn’t returned yet.”

“No, and I don’t think he’s gonna.” Daring hung her forelegs over the back of the bench. “And if he does, he’s gonna have an angry griffon trailing him. What’s the story, Princess? What was that freaky storm about?”

“I… do not know. I do not know!” Luna slammed her hooves into the stone pathway. It cracked a little more. “It could have been natural; the garden is enclosed by buildings and winter is well on its way. It could have been Hurricane sending us a message. It could have been Shardscale shrugging her shoulders.”

“Don’t blame this on me,” Shard said from the rooftop.

Scribble, scribble, scribble.

Care grunted and rolled her eyes. “Are you recording this or the party inside?”

“Both. I know shorthand.”

Scribble, scribble, scribble.

“And guys… Andean ain’t happy.”

Luna cursed under her breath. She paced back and forth, seething. “Twilight Sparkle should be here by now. Where is she? What’s taking her?”

Daring shrugged. She sat up with a start. “Hay. You don’t think she and Velvet got in trouble, do you?”

“I don’t want to believe so.” Luna frowned. “The only ponies who knew she was coming by carriage were us and Captain Snipe Hunt.”

Care raised an eyebrow. “It wasn’t exactly a national secret, your Majesty.”

“No, but the information wasn’t openly available either.” Luna cringed as the door to the ballroom opened. “Regardless, that isn’t our immediate problem.”

“Luna!” Andean snapped. “I want an explanation! What sorcery has my daughter witnessed?”

An apologetic Skyhook bit his lip as he followed the griffon king.

“And what are you doing out here by yourself?” Andean waved a talon as he lumbered to them. “Is not the assassin still running around? You are putting yourself in danger!”

“Yes, I am.” Luna strode towards him. “For your benefit, I might add.”

“My benefit?” Andean clutched a claw to his chest. He widened his eyes and pushed up his eye-patch. “My benefit, eh? Pray tell, how does this benefit me above all creatures?”

“You as well as all creatures,” Luna said. She stopped a half-meter from him, her snout raised. “The sooner we capture the assassin, the sooner things may return to normal.”

Andean Ursagryph huffed. His head swung to the side to look Luna in the eye. “You’re using yourself as bait? Are you insane?”

“Have you a better idea, King Andean?”

His eyes burned. “Indeed I do! Anything would be better than putting the last pony who can raise the sun in the grave!”

The garden went silent. Care looked past the two rulers to see Stella, Corona, and Applejack peering through the still-open doors. King Andean Ursagriff’s bristling feathers smoothed themselves out as his voice softened to a whisper. “There is no love lost between me and Celestia’s governing style, but even I must admit you are… necessary.”

Luna folded her wings neatly across her back. She raised a hoof and set her mouth in a thin line. “She only wants what’s best for the world.”

“What’s good for the goose is good for the gander, is that right?” Andean ground the sharp, curved edge of his beak. “I’m afraid you’ll find these ganders to be horses of a different color.”

“You may raise your grievances at the court.” Luna turned back to the tree. “Right now, I have a killer to catch.”

“You are putting us all in danger, Luna!” Andean roared. “Protect yourself!”

She sat down, her back to the griffon. He, too, turned and reentered the ballroom.

“Why are you and Princess Luna fighting, Father?” Stella asked, her eyes teary.

“Because I remember,” he replied. “And she does not.”

Applejack scrunched her muzzle before following the three griffons into the hall.

***

The scarred mare hit Twilight in the eye. She grabbed her head and held it against the cold metal of the crane’s base. She pushed with all her might, her muscles straining and her legs shaking.

Twilight screamed at the pressure building in her skull. She fired a spell, one calling on her pegasus abilities, that sent lightning streaking from her horn. The electricity danced along the surface of the crane until it met the assassin’s hoof. The mare was flung from Twilight, power burning through her limbs.

Twilight held her head. She fought against her blurred vision to get a bead on the mare. Her vision cleared, but all she saw was a wing snapping towards her. The tip caught her in the throat. She slumped back, choking for breath.

The scar stood out on the mare’s cheek. The deadened skin around it grew red and swollen. She bit down on her lip and raised a hoof to crush Twilight’s head.

Twilight Velvet appeared in a shower of blue sparks. She sent a strong uppercut into the bottom of the mare’s jaw. She followed up with two left hooks to the side of her head. She finished the combo with a headbutt that smacked the mare between the eyes with her horn.

The assassin opened her mouth. Her tongue lolled out, ragged and red from having been between her teeth when the blow hit. She spat blood and leaped at Velvet.

Velvet raised her hooves and blocked the downward strike. She moved to intercept another from the side, and a third from the front. She sprung with a hind leg and caught the assassin in the flank. She twirled, bringing the other leg to the same place. The scarred mare tipped to the side and rolled.

They circled each other, Velvet moving quickly to put herself between the assassin and Twilight. The mare shook her white mane from her eyes and jumped high into the air.

Twilight Velvet took one measured pace back and allowed the mare to drive her hooves into the sand. She brought her hooves up and around to collide against the mare’s ears. The scarred mare bellowed and lunged to sink her teeth into Velvet’s shoulder.

The assassin wrapped her forelegs around Velvet’s torso and prevented her from pulling away. Velvet grappled with the mare, trying to pry her free. They both stood on their hind legs, Velvet with her horn glowing, the mare biting down as hard as she could.

The light from the horn caught the scarred mare’s eye. She released Velvet’s body and boxed her ears. The spell faded away unmade. The mare hit Twilight Velvet twice in the nose with firm headbutts. She let the police chief slump to the ground.

The scarred mare wiped her mouth. She scowled with bloody teeth as she turned back to Twilight Sparkle.

Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Equestria, was standing up. Her horn was lit with a ready spell. Her face was contorted with rage. Before the mare could react, Twilight had encased her in a strong, unyielding, telekinetic bubble. She lifted the mare and brought her down to earth as hard as she could.

She did so again. And once more for good measure. She drew a circle in the sand with the mare’s body and stood in the center. She drew the mare close and dropped her.

A wing spread, catching Twilight on the edge of the snout. The scarred mare stood up and hit her with a one-two-three punch that left her lip bleeding. Twilight held her hooves in front of her face to block the next few punches. With her eyes ablaze, Twilight growled.

“This is for Celestia!” Twilight sent a flying right hoof into the mare’s jaw. The mare’s head jerked to the side as she reeled from the blow.

“And this is for my mom!” Twilight screamed. She turned around and bucked the mare with all her might. The mare flew across the construction site into the wall of the unfinished building. The plaster wall crumbled on impact, covering her completely.

The breath left Twilight in a whoosh of air. She scurried over to her mother and lifted her head. “Mom! Mom, can you hear me?”

Twilight Velvet grinned as she opened her eyes. “Id’s dust a broked dose, Sweedhard. Had worse before.” Her horn lit with a quick, mild healing spell. “That’ll help. At least I don’t sound like a total moron.” She squinted across the lot. “Speaking of which…”

Twilight left her mother to recuperate and trotted towards the broken wall. She was about halfway when the plaster shifted. The scarred mare staggered to her feet, holding her head. One wing flapped uselessly at her side.

“Wow, you’re a tough cookie.” Twilight pulled her lips back. “I’m surprised you can breath, let alone stand.”

The mare opened her eyes with a fiery glare. She gripped the limp wing with both forehooves and forced in back into its socket. She flapped her wings and raced across the sand.

Twilight took a step back. “Guh—”

The mare wasn’t aiming for her, though. She looped around Twilight, making lap after lap. She sped up with each pass, kicking up dust and sand. The wind whipped Twilight’s mane and stung her eyes. Twilight held a hoof in front of her face.

One of the blades from the mare’s arsenal sliced her foreleg.

Twilight screamed and held it to her chest. She opened her eyes and gasped. All around her, caught up in the newborn whirlwind, were tiny, glinting shards of metal. All of them sharpened to the breadth of a molecule. All of them looping around to cut her.

In the time it took to spark her horn, a blade dragged across her shoulder and broke her concentration.

She looked up. The tornado of sand and metal rose to the height of the four-story building beside her. She was at the bottom of a deathtrap. More blades closed in. She cast a quick shield that didn’t even slow them down before they cut the tip off her ear.

She fought against the sand stinging her eyes and the cuts stinging her body to come up with a plan. She couldn’t grab the mare at the speeds she was going. She couldn’t blast the blades out of the sky or stop them with a shield. She couldn’t fly out of the tornado without being diced.

A blade raked a deep gash in her side.

She pushed the pain down and focused on her horn. She charged it to brilliant, bright white: The makings of a teleport. If she could just get out of the whirlwind, she could fight back. She turned her body to avoid the next round of knives.

One stabbed itself deep in her hind leg, knocking her off her feet.

She kept her horn bright. Tears poured down her cheeks and were swallowed by the sand. She glared at the pseudomotion of the mare’s white mane as she spun around and around, ordering her tornado of death. Twilight shouted at her as she prepared to cast her spell.

A blade across the throat silenced Twilight Sparkle. She choked. She collapsed. Her horn went out. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. The air didn’t come.

At the edge of the whirlwind, a collection of yet-to-be-affixed iron framework was scooped up by the tornado. They swirled around on their way to the top. The scarred mare left the storm to its own devices and hovered beside them. She snarled at the princess at the bottom of her magic abyss and dove, the iron bars following her down.

Twilight’s eyes and the mare’s locked. Iron coursed through the storm to end Twilight’s life.

Twilight Velvet teleported on top of her daughter. She scooped the princess up and teleported away.

Metal met earth with a resounding clang that echoed throughout the entire city. The mare stopped her descent with her wings spread wide. She allowed the tornado to die down and fade away. She fell to the ground.

She crawled away despite the pain that was tearing through her body. She headed for the only safe place she knew in the city-state.

***

Twilight Velvet appeared in the middle of a street two blocks away from the castle. She held Twilight Sparkle close, rocking her back and forth. “Night Light? Night Light!”

“Twilight!” he answered from the next street over. “I’m coming!”

“Call an ambulance!” Twilight Velvet shrieked. She pressed a hoof over her daughter’s bleeding neck, staunching the flow as well as she could. “Call the hospital! Do it now!”

Twilight Sparkle croaked. One violet eye turned to her mom. Its luster was fading.

“D-don’t try to talk, Sweetheart,” Twilight Velvet said. She ran a hoof through her daughter’s mane even as the other clamped firmly over the cut in her throat. “It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay. M-mommy’s here. Mommy’s here for you. Just rest now. Shh.”

Twilight Sparkle whined as she tried to take a breath. Her eye gradually slid shut and her squirming stopped.

“Oh, Creator, please. Please help her, please.” Tears dripped from Twilight Velvet’s eyes. “Please help her. Please.”

She lifted her head. “Somepony help her! Somepony help my baby!”

Ten minutes later, an ambulance carriage rolled up. The first-responders scooped Twilight Sparkle up and rushed her to the hospital. Twilight Velvet rode with them, not letting go of her daughter until the bandage was around her neck. Once they arrived, the doctors took Princess Twilight away, leaving an intern to tend to Chief Twilight’s nose.

Twilight Velvet sat in the waiting room, her head resting on Night Light’s shoulder. Her gray coat had been washed, but still held traces of red. Tears ran down her cheeks and collected under her chin. Night Light took deep, even breaths to keep himself calm.

They waited.

***

Applejack watched as Andean took both his daughters on a floating dance through the air. He smiled brightly for them, but his eyes kept jumping to the garden’s door. Applejack sat down at the edge of the dance floor and scanned the ballroom for any sign of Twilight Sparkle.

Instead of Twilight, she found Rarity. She was dancing with a Frankenpony-esque Fancypants. Applejack joined the circling dancers and made her way to them. “Mind if ah cut in?”

Rarity turned to her with a smile. “I’d recognize that voice anywhere! Applejack, how are you?”

Fancypants held his hooves out to dance with Applejack. He met empty air as the two mares twirled away. He dropped to all fours, shrugged, and headed for the punch bowl.

“Ah good as ah can get under the current circumstances.” Applejack stubbed her hoof against Rarity’s. “Ow. It ain’t exactly mah heart’s desire to—ow—speak overly much with—ow—Andean. You seen Twi around? Ow.”

“Not a—ouch—hint of lavender alicorn anywhere.” Rarity shut her eyes behind her intricate, colorful mask. “We really much teach you to waltz, Applejack.”

“Ain’t got time.” Applejack rolled her eyes. “Ah’m startin’ tah worry ’bout her, Rares. She shoulda been here an hour ago.”

“Do you suggest we leave the party and scour Canterlot for her?” Rarity sighed. “It’s rather a large city, Seabreeze.”

Applejack squinted. “You knockin’ on mah costume?”

“It’s a compliment.” Rarity smirked halfheartedly. “You know, I thought mayors had people to do this kind of thing for them.”

“Yeah me too.” Applejack jerked her head towards the doors. “We goin’ or what?”

They left the dance floor behind. As they gently pushed their way through the partygoers, a short stallion tapped Applejack on the shoulder. “Lord Mayor?”

Applejack raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“I have a message for you and Princess Luna. Do you know where she is?”

Applejack’s walk curved to the garden. “Yeah, ah do. What’s up? Where’s the message from?”

“The hospital.”

***

Twilight Velvet wiped her eyes as Daring Do barged into the room. “Where’s Sparkle?” she asked. “How is she? Is she gonna be okay?”

Velvet’s eyes stung. She lurched forward and wrapped Daring in a tight hug. The pegasus jumped in surprise, but soon returned the embrace. “Hay,” Daring said. “I’m… I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“She wasn’t breathing,” Velvet said. “She wasn’t moving. Daring, ponies don’t survive this. You’ve seen it. She… she’s gonna die, and I couldn’t help her.”

Applejack and Rarity walked slowly into the room. Applejack rubbed her foreleg and turned to Night Light. “They workin’ on her now?”

He only nodded.

Rarity’s makeup smeared when she wiped her eye. “Oh, my stars. This isn’t fair. She doesn’t deserve this.”

She waved a hoof and wandered around the waiting room. “She should have been drinking punch, dancing with a few nice stallions, enjoying her position! Not fighting for her life in a h-h-hospital.”

Applejack grabbed her shoulders. “Easy. Rarity. Just stay strong, okay? Stay strong for Twilight. Sh-she needs us to believe she can make it, okay?”

Rarity pressed her lips together and bowed her head.

The temperature in the room dropped. All ponies turned their heads toward the entrance, where shadows were collecting. Princess Luna stepped inside. “Where is she?”

Night Light bent a knee. “They’ve taken Twilight to the emergency room and are—”

“Where. Is. The. Assassin?” Luna said in a low, icy voice. “I swear she will pay for what she’s done.”

“She’s long gone by now,” Applejack said. “Right this second all we can do is pray for Twi. Time’ll come later fer payback. Fer justice.” She lifted a hoof to place it on Luna’s shoulder. “Just try an’ keep a cool head.”

Luna jerked away. “A cool head, you say?” She gritted her teeth and brought her face to Applejack’s level. “My sister is living a nightmare. My friend has been torn apart. Other ponies are already dead. The time is over for cool heads!”

“What the hay is the matter with you?” Applejack bumped noses with Luna. “Get a hold of yerself! Yer gonna get yerself killed or drive yerself crazy!”

“Stop it, the both of you!” Rarity said. “Now is not the time to fight over anything. We need to come together and—”

“Luna’s right,” Daring said. She pulled away from Velvet and lifted a hoof. “We need to track down this killer before she goes and hurts anypony else. Who’s with—?”

“Where’re yah even gonna start?” Applejack stomped a hoof. “Yer gonna run off on a wild goose—”

“Silence, all of you!” Luna spread her wings, blotting out the light from above. “My word is law, and—”

“Enough!”

They all turned. Night Light cradled Twilight Velvet in his forelegs. “Enough,” he said. “Please.”

Luna lowered her wings. The room brightened. She closed her eyes and left through the door.

Applejack pulled the fuzzy wig off of her head. “Ah’m sorry. Ah’m so sorry.”

Rarity leaned into her side. “As am I. Perhaps we should all take a moment and… hope.”

The two Element Bearers laid hooves on Twilight Velvet’s shoulders. Daring Do walked across the room and sat across an uncomfortable couch. She glared at the coffee percolator as it ground out a single cup.

She glanced back once at the collected ponies, then buried her head in her forelegs.

***

The scarred mare leaned against the cool metal door. Above, the rusted sign declaring the building Dulcimer’s warehouse creaked in the wind. Her muscles protesting with every movement, she pushed the door up and slid beneath. She crawled across the dusty, dirty floor towards the couch.

Her cheek burned. Her legs ached. Her jaw stung. Her wings seized. Tears dripped from her eyes as blood dripped from her mouth. She dug through the couch cushions in a rush. When she found the silver cylinder, she yanked it out and unscrewed the cap. She used the cap to measure out two millimeters of the golden liquid.

The ambrosia burned her throat, but it was a welcome change from the agony of before. Gradually, her aches and pains ceased. Her wings throbbed, but it was a dull pain. She dabbed a drop on her scar and sighed in relief. She narrowed her eyes at the mirror.

Poison. Poison went straight for the heart.

“If the younger princess is not dead, she will be soon.”

No answer came from the mirror. The scarred mare paid it no mind. It never answered when she spoke. Her only requirement was to answer when it spoke. She lay herself in her cot and rocked back and forth. The single light flickered overhead.

Poison shut down the heart and through that, it killed the body.

The mare gritted her teeth as her stomach burned with the healing power of ambrosia. She hissed when the sensation subsided. She leaned out of her cot and turned on her homemade radio.

Crackling music slid out, filling the warehouse with the sounds of the opera. Proud singers with strong voices belted out their tunes. Notes were hit that were once deemed impossible.

Poison struck the heart. The scarred mare had most certainly struck Luna’s heart.

She shut her eyes and let the music lull her to sleep.

She didn’t know how long she’d been out before the door to the warehouse crumpled inward. She brought herself to full wakefulness in an instant, flipping out of the cot to face the invaders. Her legs protested, but she didn’t let the pain show on her face.

There were eight stallions. Six were covered in armor and wielding various weapons. The other two walked in behind them, a unicorn and an earth pony. The unicorn raised a butterfly mask and tugged the collar of a jacket that was about one hundred years out of style.

“Scuttlebutt,” the unicorn said, “please start bringing the mare’s things to the cart.”

“Yes sir.” Scuttlebutt trotted around the armored ponies. “Will there be anything else, Viscount?”

“No, no.” Viscount Dulcimer shook his head. “I’ll deal with the mare myself.”

The scarred mare sneered. She bent her knees in preparation to charge. “Who art thou?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing. Using more recent vernacular.” Dulcimer tapped the largest armored pony, a pegasus, on the shoulder. “If she gives you any trouble, feel free to hurt her. Thank you.”

The pegasus grinned.

The scarred mare watched as Scuttlebutt turned off her radio and hefted it onto his back. “How did thou find me?”

“Please, this town is an open book.” Dulcimer shrugged. “I simply know what page the index is on.”

The assassin flexed her wings. “What dost thou want?”

“What I want and what I get are often different things.” Dulcimer rubbed his goatee. “I wanted Twilight Sparkle, but I got you. That can be a start. Maybe we can talk and see where things lead.”

She clicked her tongue. “Unlikely.”

She spread her wings and released several expertly-aimed wingblades, each headed for a different pony’s neck.

Before she could blink, the knives clattered in a pile before her. She looked at it, nonplussed. She looked back up to where Dulcimer was standing, but there was only empty air.

“Nice trick,” Dulcimer whispered in her ear. “But you really need to learn some new ones.”

The mare took a careful breath in and let it out. “And thou wish to teach me?”

“Yes. But not here.”

There was a sharp prick in her neck. She looked down and around to see an empty syringe jutting out from her blue coat. Dulcimer removed the needle and took a step back. “Relax,” he said, “if you let it work, it’ll be over faster.”

She tottered on her hooves. She caught herself again and again, but the world refused to stop swirling. She felt the floor come up and hit the side of her head. The large pegasus scooped her up onto his back, while the others moved her cot and couch into the cart.

“M-mirror,” she muttered. “Mirror.”

She saw Dulcimer look at her with narrowed eyes. He looked over, said something about the mirror, and turned away. The wind whipped past as she was lifted into the air. She felt heavy and limp. Her eyes started to force themselves shut.

“Have her cleaned up a little,” Dulcimer said from beside her. She lifted her head, but she still saw the rooftops rolling past below. Events flowed together as she saw Dulcimer’s face as an afterimage in her foggy mind. “Take her to the estate, and make sure she’s taken care of.”

She blinked once, and at last succumbed to unconsciousness.

Author's Note

I would call that the first major turning point. :yay: Yay.

Scarred

“Time of death: Approximately eight-thirty.”

The first-responder covered Snipe Hunt’s head with the blanket. The fallen guard was lifted into the back of an ambulance and carted away. Care Carrot watched it go, biting down on her lip. She turned to Skyhook and placed a hoof on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.” The bat pony guard turned his face away from the wagon and toward the construction site. He squinted in the foggy light of the rising sun. “We always… we always worked together. I wish I’d been here.”

She gave his shoulder a squeeze. She flagged down a passing corporal. “What did you guys find?”

The soldier saluted. “Not much, ma’am. A few blood samples that forensics confirm as belonging to Princess Sparkle, Chief Velvet, and an unidentified third pony. We also have the attacker’s wingblades. Six embedded in the carriage and twenty-five scattered across the general area. Some are undamaged, but nine of them are crumpled like tin foil.”

“That’ll be Twilight’s handiwork, then.” Care scuffed a hoof in the sand. “Any clues where the assassin went?”

Skyhook grunted. “A furrow through the sand, leading to the exit. It looks like she dragged herself away. The sand trail ends at the end of the street.”

“Slippery little—” Care cut herself off with a snort. “Anything else to report, Corporal?”

“No, ma’am.”

“As you were.” Care Carrot ran a hoof through her green mane and marched away. She exited the construction site and leaned against the fence. She rubbed a hoof over her face. “Always two steps behind.”

“An unfortunate circumstance, Captain.”

Care jumped back. Wind blew in her face as giant wings carried Andean Ursagryph and two of his Blitzwings down. He raised his head to look over the border of the site. “I would appreciate it if you allowed my griffons to scour the area for evidence. I feel that my assistance in this matter would be prudent.”

“Sorry, your Grace, but this is an internal pony affair.” Care shook her head. “I can’t let you go in there.”

“Internal?” Andean snapped his beak shut. “Captain, this is no more an internal affair than if the world was splitting in half right through Equestria. You lost that claim when the person who controls the sun fell to a spearpoint.”

“I’ll admit you have a point, but I can’t let you in there.” Care stood at attention. “Princess Luna’s orders.”

“Princess Luna.” Andean gave her a scowling smile. “Princess Luna, indeed. Perhaps we need to have another heart-to-heart.”

“Don’t let me keep you,” Care sighed. She bowed before setting off at a trot for the hospital.

Andean narrowed his gaze before turning away. He sucked in a small breath when his eagle-keen eyes caught the glint of metal on the far side of the street. He lumbered to it and grasped it between his talons.

It was one of the wingblades. He ground his beak as he turned it around, examining it from every angle. The blade had dulled when it impacted the building, but it was still razor-sharp. The comb at the end would fit neatly onto any feather he wished. It did not dent until he used all his might to pierce it. He held it into the light of a streetlamp and watched his reflection change. The surface of the blade was covered with river-like veins, all drawing towards the tip.

His eyes widened. “Grenadier Lanner, give me your volleygun.”

The Blitzwing extended his modified spear. Andean took it in his strong talon and examined the bayonet on the end. It, too, had veins running down the side.

“Wootz.” Andean returned the volleygun. “Wootz! Kevatch!”

“Is something wrong, your Grace?” the grenadier asked.

“Take this back to the Thunderhead and give it a full analysis,” Andean murmured. “Whoever this assassin is, she’s using griffon alloys.”

***

Princess Twilight Sparkle lay silent on the hospital bed, a tube shoved down her throat and a bag of ambrosia flowing into her bloodstream. Her pulse was steady, but her brainwaves were erratic.

“She went a long time without oxygen to the brain,” Doctor Fine said. “We won’t know if she suffered permanent damage until we can set her up for a Magical Resonance Imaging test.”

“Thank you for your help, Doctor,” Twilight Velvet said with a hoarse voice.

Hefty Fine nodded. He looked at the other ponies in the room. “I’ll leave you alone for a few minutes.”

Applejack, Rarity, Daring, Night Light, and Velvet sat beside the bed. All eyes were on their princess, daughter, and friend.

The skin around Twilight’s eyes tightened as she whined. One wing twitched as she dreamed.

“I’m gonna track down the spawn of a witch who did this,” Daring Do said. “You have my word, Twilight.”

Twilight Velvet shut her eyes tight and leaned on her husband.

The door opened, causing everypony to jump. Princess Luna walked in. The breath caught in her throat. She fought to speak. “R-Rarity, Applejack… You should go to Ponyville. It isn’t safe here. And you, Chief Velvet, Night Light, should go with them.”

Night Light looked up. “We aren’t leaving our daughter—”

“We are moving Celestia and Twilight both to a safe haven, hidden away where none but a few know.” Luna kept her face stony. “No more risks, no more leaks. We are keeping this tight to the chest. We were far too loose as to news of your travels.”

Velvet ground her teeth. “There was no way to know she’d… go after…”

“No. No there wasn’t.” Luna sighed. “Still, the fewer ponies who know, the less chance this mole will find more information to leak. I’m so sorry.”

“Ah think we deserve to know,” Applejack said. “You know we ain’t gonna blab none.”

“I said we are keeping this tight to the chest.” Luna frowned down at the mayor, her lips twitching. “No margin for error, Applejack.”

“If not me, then at least her folks.” Applejack’s shoulders drooped alongside her ears. “Don’t yah at least owe them that?”

Luna’s wall broke. Her face softened for a brief, quiet moment. “Of course I do. Of course.” Her eyes ran over the various instruments keeping Twilight alive. “Will the rest of you leave the room, please?”

Daring gave Velvet one last hug before following the other two out the door. Velvet wiped her eyes and settled herself into a more comfortable position on the floor. “Where?”

“The Crystal Empire,” Luna said. “It is far from Equestria, and protected by an incredibly ancient magic. As long as the crystal heart beats strong, nothing can penetrate its borders. A breezie doctor named Summerwind has agreed to take over from Doctor Fine. He’s has experience with the intricacies of ambrosia.”

Night Light gazed at his daughter. “How are you planning on transporting them?”

“Airship, flanked by Weather Ponies. A train would be too rough, as would a carriage, but a journey through the sky with perfect weather would be the fastest, safest way to go.”

Twilight Velvet shook her head. “Pursued by a pony you’ve called ‘Hurricane’? Princess, all due respect, but that sounds insane.”

“That I will admit,” Luna said. “But it is not going to be alone. There will be two—”

She was interrupted by Applejack sticking her head through the doorway. “Beg pardon, Majesty, but we need yer help out here.”

Luna shut her eyes hard. She growled before grasping the door with a spell. “Rest assured, Twilight Velvet, Night Light, that I am done taking risks with my friends’ lives. If this Hurricane wants my sister and Twilight, she’ll have to scour the world first.”

Luna strutted to the hospital wing’s front desk, where Rarity and Applejack were waiting. Daring Do was long gone.

The princess scowled at the mare behind the counter. “What requires my attention so?”

Flower Wishes ducked behind a notepad. “We’ve tried to get him to leave, but he won’t.”

Luna took a steadying breath. “Get who to leave?”

A clatter rolled down the hallway. A unicorn stallion charged past orderlies, a frazzle-maned unicorn mare in his wake. “Where is she?” he said. “I demand to see her at once!”

Rarity gently brought a hoof to her temple and rubbed. “Who might you think?”

Prince Blueblood slapped a hoof onto the counter. His eyes were red to go with his sunken cheeks. “What room? Tell me what room!”

“Blueblood, you drunken oaf!” Fleur De Lis said through a thicker Fancy accent than usual. “She es resting! Leave dese ponies be!”

Rarity slid her hooves around Fleur’s shoulders. “Best to leave it to Luna, I’m afraid.”

“Get it through that thick skull, yer Highness,” Applejack said. She prodded Blueblood’s chest. “Y’ can’t see Celestia. None o’ us can. It ain’t healthy nor safe!”

“Hooves off, commoner!” Blueblood snatched the notepad from Flower Wishes’ grasp. He took off down the hallway with pages flapping loose in his wake.

“Blueblood!” Luna chased after him, her eyes flashing with anger. “Blueblood, you get back here right this minute! Don’t you dare—!”

“Aha!” Blueblood skidded to a halt before one door. He dropped the pad and swung the door opened. “Aunt Celestia, I came to… to…”

He stared at the life support systems. The steadily beeping pulse monitor. The waving lines of the brain scanner. The tube connected to his aunt’s mouth.

“Oh Creator…”

He leaned against the doorframe and slowly slid to the floor. Every last tinge of haughtiness left his eyes, replaced instead by unshed tears. His breath became shallow and labored. “Oh Creator, it’s just as bad as they say.”

Luna stood behind him. She made herself not look into the room. “As bad as who says?”

“Oh Creator—”

“Just as bad as who says, Blueblood?” Luna snapped.

“It’s ze news broadcast, your Majesty.” Fleur just barely managed to get her words to flow as she, too, looked into the room. “Zey are all oover ze radio vaves. Word got oot aboot Twilight and Celestia. Ze ponies are panicking. Zey are ready to riot.”

Blueblood let out a low, repressed cry. Fleur sat beside him and nestled her chin on his shoulder.

Luna scrapped a hoof along the floor. It left a deep scratch behind. “Who. Told. Them?”

Light from the windows fell away as shadows drew together from every corner, converging on Princess Luna. The temperature dropped down at least ten degrees, sending a chill through every pony present.

“Who spoke of my sister’s condition?” she hissed. “Who would dare? What did they say?”

“Princess Luna,” Applejack said, “you need to get outside the hospital if yer gonna be doin’ shadowy stuff like that. It ain’t good fer Celestia or Twi—”

“Silence, Lord Mayor!” Luna spread her wings over Applejack, blotting out the light. “If the news outlets are spreading lies, there shall be repercussions! If they have been sharing information deemed secret for the protection of a life, there shall be greater repercussions! And all shall pale in comparison to that which I shall visit upon the pony responsible!”

There was no flash of teleport. The shadows seemed to swallow Luna up in a black hole, leaving nothing but a slight chill in the air and the rumble of distant thunder.

“Uh…” Applejack gulped. “Uh, ah think we ought to go after her.”

Rarity nodded. “She’ll no doubt head for the largest news network in the area. I’ll lead the way.” They left together, followed by a few Royal Guards.

Blueblood stared at his aunt for a long time. He barely registered his wife’s murmured reassurances. His head buzzed from the pressure of his sobs.

“Auntie… you were supposed to be invincible.”

***

A secretary continued to tap at her typewriter despite the pony that had appeared out of thin air. “Do yah have an appointment?”

“Aye.”

“What name do I give the editor?”

“Princess Luna.”

The secretary grimaced. She rolled her eyes and leaned on her elbow. “Really, now? Yah really expect me tah—”

Princess Luna stood tall, shrouded in black shadows save for her glowing blue eyes. A bitter chill touched the secretary’s bones.

“Go right in.”

Luna nodded and pushed open the door to the office. The editor of the Canterlot Chronicle and owner of the Ewe News Radio Station looked up from an argument with his photographer. His moustache bristled. “Your Majes—”

“Where did you learn about the assassination?” Luna shouted in the Royal Canterlot Voice. “Why have you shared the information?”

“Ponies were waking up with a message in their mailboxes!” the editor yelped. “They held notes on last night! Pictures! They came to us for answers! We were just reporting on the chaos!”

He leaned back in his chair as Luna leaned over his desk, her eyes frigid and hard. She peeled back her lips, revealing sharp fangs. “You say the information was made public before you knew about it?”

“Random mailboxes. Maybe a hundred.” The editor tried to look away from her face, but he couldn’t. He kept getting drawn into the piercing eyes with their slit pupils. “We said not to believe it until we could get a confirming or denying statement from you!”

The photographer hid beneath the editor’s desk. “Sounds pretty confirming to me.”

“Silence, foal!” Luna shouted at the desk.

“I told you she was going to be in here.” Rarity’s voice came from outside the room, accompanied by a series of hoofsteps. “Fancypants tells me that it’s the largest information network in Equestria, or quite nearly.”

She and Applejack poked their heads in, and the guards after them. The mayor cleared her throat. “Are yah just ’bout done here, yer Majesty? We got kinda a crisis goin’ on.”

“Quite nearly.” Luna’s voice was no longer at full volume. She glared at the editor. “You wish for a statement?”

The editor nodded. Blood rushed to his head. “Yes, your Majesty.”

“It is the same as before. Celestia and Twilight both are recovering.” She bared her teeth, which no longer held as sharp a point. “Exact details of their location and status cannot and will not be revealed as long as their lives are in danger. Do I make myself clear?”

The editor nodded rapidly. “That’s all we want, your Majesty.”

“If you will excuse me,” she said, “I must go and help quell the riots this news has ignited.”

There was a deep wump felt in their hearts as Luna vanished. The photographer peered out from under the desk. “Nothing like a visit from our sovereign, is there, sir?”

“Shut up.” The editor looked at Rarity and Applejack, who were staring at the faint haze left behind by Luna’s teleport. “Um. While you two are here, can we get a statement about the messages?”

Applejack shoved her hat onto her head and trotted out the door. “No comment.”

***

Care pushed her way through a crowd gathered in Canterlot’s streets. She shoved aside a large stallion and found herself in a market place. A few of the store windows had been busted. “What the hay is going on, here?”

She nearly got run down by two stampeding mares. She danced out of the way and held her hooves up. “Watch where you’re going, morons!”

Across the street, an earth pony mare hefted a brick. Care ran towards her. “Hay! Hay, you! Stop that—”

The mare smashed a window into tiny pieces and took the jewelry on the other side. She gave Care a glance. “End of the world, sweetheart.”

Care spun her around by the shoulder. “You put that back right now!”

The mare lifted the brick to bring it down on Care’s head. The unicorn guard sent three lightning-fast punches into the mare’s gut. She toppled over.

Care squared her hooves and lit her horn. It went from the same pink as her eyes to bright orange. A ball of fire shot into the sky, where it exploded with an echoing bang.

All eyes turned to Care. She took a deep breath in. “Just because the princesses are hurt does not give you permission to steal stuff from ponies!”

The mare she’d knocked down grabbed a necklace and ran off. Most ponies alternated between robbing and running from some imagined fear. Care set her jaw and marched onward.

“Hay, Captain.” Daring Do reached out of an alley and dragged Care inside. She whispered in her ear. “We gotta head back to Ponyville for something.”

“Where the heck did you come from?” Care said, eyes wide. “Why aren’t you at the hospital?”

“’Cause things are super screwed up right now. I’ll tell you about it en route.” Daring Do’s eyes shifted around at the mayhem. “Too many ponies around here for my taste. Gotta get away, just for a couple days. Gotta get a game plan together, you know?”

“Yeah, because we’re so awesome at planning.” Care pulled away from Daring’s grasp. “We’ve got other obligations now. We have to help stop the riots—”

“The riots ain’t gonna stop until the stinking princesses are better!” Daring snatched Care’s foreleg. “And that ain’t gonna happen for good until the assassin is put down!” Her grayscale mane hung before her eyes. She blew it back. “I need your help, Cap.”

Care hung her head. She pulled back her long green mane and wrapped it in a loose ponytail. “Twilight Sparkle was our team’s only real chance of beating Hurricane head on.”

“I know,” Daring said. “That’s why I need to see if I can’t get a legend out of retirement.”

***

Spike sat at the foot of a hefty radio. He’d listened to the same message countless times, but it still stung. Twilight Sparkle was hurt.

They said not to believe it until they got a statement from Princess Luna, but Spike knew it was true. He crumpled up the message from Twilight Velvet asking him to pray for a quick recovery.

Twilight Sparkle had gotten hurt, and he wasn’t there to help her.

Another message lay on a nearby table. It was from Rarity, saying that she and Applejack were going to return to Ponyville. Saying that he should stay far away from Canterlot, because it just wasn’t safe. He shouldn’t go to Twilight’s side. They were going to move her far, far away and he couldn’t’ go with her.

He slammed his fist in the crystal wall of the castle. A hairline fracture ran up to the ceiling.

The doorbell chimed a light, friendly double-tone. His ears twitched. He let out a little sigh and touched the wall with a clawtip. “Gonna have to polish that out later.”

He walked through the castle, picking his way through the many corridors and hallways. He hopped down the staircase and came to the first floor. The doorbell rang again.

“I’m coming,” he muttered as he passed the seven thrones in the central room. “It’s a big castle. Sheesh.”

He growled as he tugged the enormous handles on the castle’s front door. “Nopony has any patience anymore, do they? Just rah, rah, rah, gotta get ’er done. Nopony just stops and smells the—”

The door opened, but there was nopony on the other side. Spike looked down and found a small pot seated on the welcome mat. The pot held a bouquet of blue flowers.

Poison Joke.

Spike leapt back, one leg raised to shield him from the dangerous plants. He was about to light them up with a burst of flame when he saw the note beside them. Addressed to him.

He lay on his belly and stretched himself out. He snatched the edge of the letter and dragged it close. He unfolded the paper and read it with trembling claws.

Dear Spike,

I’m terribly sorry to hear about Princess Twilight Sparkle. Such a shame. This tragedy affects us all. Consider this bouquet of poison joke as my own personal “get well soon” gift for the princess. Don’t worry; I removed their dangerous pollen so they won’t do you any harm. Just don’t try to make soup from the petals.

I hope she’s still good for that promise of ice cream.

With a smile,
Merry Mare, Lord Mayor of Ponyville

His eyes ran over the paper again and again. He gritted his sharp, gem-crushing teeth. The page tore in two when his fists closed around it.

Spike picked up the pot, hot bile rising in his throat. He kicked the door closed. Smoke escaped from between clenched teeth. One breath later, the poison joke was a collection of charred, blackened stems. He threw the pot with all his strength and watched it shatter against Fluttershy’s throne.

He ran through the castle, overturning tables and scraping his nails against the walls. A roar from deep within his heart tore its way out of him, shaking the crystal foundations. He smashed a mirror with a wave of his tail.

He didn’t know how long he rampaged through the halls. All he knew was that at one point, he was outside the gym, looking in. The punching bag hung from the ceiling, swinging back and forth.

He hit the bag. It went sailing across the room. He pounced on it and tore it apart, flinging sand and fabric everywhere. He pounded his fists when there was no bag left to demolish.

After a while, his strength was spent. He rested his head on the sandy floor, his eyelids low. He crawled to one corner of the room and curled up. His boiling-hot tears ran down his face and sizzled against his scales.

The doorbell rang a singsong jingle.

He curled tighter. He gripped his tail, squeezing his jaw shut to keep cries from escaping.

The doorbell didn’t ring again. As time went on, though, Spike could hear a clip-clop sound making its way through the castle. He hid behind the wall, hoping against hope that he could keep out of sight.

A head popped into the room, one with a red mane and a yellow face. Apple Bloom walked in, her legs moving at a slow, halting pace. “Spike? Are yah here?”

She rolled her shoulders to get her tool vest on tighter. “Ah came to see if you were… okay.”

She looked at him, all curled up in a ball and hiding in the corner. She covered her mouth. “Oh, Spike.”

“I couldn’t save her, Apple Bloom,” Spike whispered. He wiped his tears and flicked the steaming droplets onto the floor. “Sh—she’s fighting for her life, and I can’t even be with her.”

Apple Bloom crossed her front legs. She chewed on her bottom lip. “Hay, it’ll work out. It always does.”

He turned to the wall. “No it doesn’t.”

Apple Bloom felt her own eyes sting. “Nah. Not always.”

Spike extended a clawtip and scratched a furrow in the crystal floor. “So what do you do when things don’t work out?”

Apple Bloom blinked. She shifted her weight from one hoof to another. She started to say something many times, but thought better of it. At long last, she just stayed silent. She held her breath.

She sat next to him and wrapped her forelegs around his torso. He stiffened, but gradually relaxed. He touched her hoof as tears poured from the corners of his eyes.

“Ah’m sorry,” Apple Bloom whispered.

They sat together within that crystal castle in Ponyville, sharing an embrace of solace.

***

The scarred mare’s entire body spasmed as she came awake. She lifted her head, her ears swiveling at full alert. Her heart raced, pressing against her ribcage.

She was lying on a plush purple sofa, facing a fainting couch and a lounge chair. Her body was wrapped in a warm, fuzzy blanket. Her wounds had been redressed, and her aches were gone.

The room had a high, domed ceiling. The dome itself was made up of panels that alternated between windows and what appeared to be gold. Pillars of marble and limestone reached upward. The floor nearby was carpeted, but outside the small seating area it was tiled.

The air was warm and humid. The mare looked over the back of the couch to find a large pool dug into the middle of the floor. At the far side, a pink stallion with a long purple mane lifted out of the water. “Oh good,” he said, “you’re awake.”

The mare squinted at him as he pulled himself from the pool. Water rushed down his toned, muscular sides, making puddles around his hooves. He flipped a towel over his shoulders and dried his mane. “You fought that serum surprisingly well. Most ponies would have succumbed instantly.”

The scarred mare scowled. “Where hast thou taken me?”

“I love your Pre-Founding speech pattern. It’s so quaint.” Viscount Dulcimer walked toward her, running his hooves through his mane. He tied it in a tight ponytail that tapered at the end. “It’s like looking at a living, breathing piece of the past.”

He reclined on the fainting couch. “However, I would prefer it if you showed me proper respect. We’re going to be business partners, after all.”

The scarred mare’s eyes narrowed. “Thou can see farther into the future than I. What partnership have I with my captor?”

“I’m sorry about that.” Dulcimer ran the towel over his flank. He smoothed down his coat behind it. “However, it was kidnapping you or wasting dozens of my security detail against you. You don’t seem like the sort to negotiate.”

“What makes thou believe that I will negotiate now?”

“Because there is nothing to fear here.” He shrugged and gestured around the room. “Open air. Nearby windows. Complete isolation. Just you, me, and the pool.”

She flicked her ears around. She couldn’t hear so much as another pony’s breath. “I ask again: Where have you taken me?”

“The Blueblood estate, on the west side of Canter Mountain.” Viscount Dulcimer smiled. “You needn’t worry about discovery, though. Blueblood himself rarely visits, preferring his suite at the castle. For all intents and purposes, this is the manor of Viscount Dulcimer.”

She narrowed her eyes to dangerous slits. “For what purpose hast thou brought me here?”

“You threw the proverbial wrench into my plans.” He let the damp towel slide to the ground. He rested his chin in his hooves and nestled into the fainting couch’s high back. “I have a goal in mind, miss… what shall I call you?”

Her ear flicked. “Hurricane.”

“Miss Hurricane.” He smirked. “My goal is the throne. Blueblood’s throne.”

She sneered.

“You can dismiss it all you want, but it’s my life’s work.” Dulcimer rubbed his beard. “As Viscount, I am second only to Blueblood when it comes to his property and political pull. With him gone, I would be his regent.” He looked right in Hurricane’s eyes. “I had hoped to get rid of him and take his place. I was hoping a good old fashioned courtship with Twilight Sparkle might amount to something even greater. You can understand my initial disappointment.”

Hurricane’s muscles tensed. “Dost thou desire retribution?”

“I thought about it.” A pail of ice appeared from behind the couch, followed by two crystal glasses. “With you dead, I certainly wouldn’t have to worry about Princess Twilight being a target. My plans could go off without a hitch. Then it hit me.” He poured them each a glass. “I was thinking too small.”

Hurricane shook her head slowly. “Art thou familiar with the term ‘delusions of grandeur’?”

“You think I’m deluded?” He passed her a glass of bubbling liquid from across the seating area. She slipped a hoof from the blanket to take it. “I would have to be wrong about my assumptions. Or unable to meet them. As it stands, my goal was very much in reach until you happened.”

Hurricane ran her hoof along the rim of her glass. She brought the damp hoof to her mouth and touched her tongue against it. Tasting no trace of poison, she threw it back.

“But like I said before, it opened up a whole new door.” Dulcimer took a sip. He stretched his back, flexing his muscles in the process. “I thought you might be a good hire.”

“Thou wish to hire me?” Hurricane’s ear bent down. “Thou wish to hire me?”

“Do you know how rare a thing it is to find an assassin willing to go after the princesses? Much less succeed?” He leaned a hoof over the side of the couch and ran it along the carpet. “You have two princesses under your belt. Even if they’re still alive, that’s insane that you even got close to them. You’ve got something special, Hurricane. Something very special indeed.”

“My skills, my abilities, my life is not to be bought.” Hurricane clicked her teeth with a growl. “What makes thou think I would assist thou in anything?”

“Because some poisons come in two parts.”

Dulcimer downed the last of his glass as Hurricane froze. He studied her wide-eyed expression for a moment.

“Don’t be alarmed,” he said. “The wine is perfectly safe. It’s that second ingredient you have to watch out for.” He poured them both a second glass.

She set it on the ground. “What is the second ingredient?”

He tapped his chin. “I’ll tell you if you agree to hear me out.”

Hurricane clicked her tongue. She picked up the glass and guzzled it. “Speak your piece.”

“Cinnamon,” he said.

“You’re lying.”

“Would you like to test that theory?”

Hurricane rolled her eyes. “No. Stop wasting our time.”

Dulcimer crossed his forelegs. “I want you to kill Blueblood.”

“What’s stopping you from doing it?”

“A number of things.” Dulcimer sighed. “I’ve tried to do it myself, but I’ve been thwarted too many times. The others are starting to catch on. I’ve tried to hire assassins, but they’re a little wary about going after the princesses’ nephew. I need an expert.”

He filled her cup again. “If you agree, I will outfit you with anything you need. Armor, weapons, intel, troops from my personal security detail...” He tilted his head. “And you’ll have access to all of them when you inevitably go after Princess Luna.”

She turned her head away. He chuckled, “Come on, it’s not exactly a secret. Admit it; she’s a target somewhere down the list.”

Hurricane lowered her eyebrows. “You would be willing to help slay the last being who can raise the sun?”

“There’s still Cadence. She lives in the Crystal Empire, far from here.” He grinned with two rows of perfect teeth. “I figure if we ever get down to our last alicorn, we can start training unicorns in earnest.”

“But why would you—”

“Once Luna is dead, who is next in line for the Equestrian throne?”

Hurricane grimaced. “With Mi Amore Cadenza in the Empire… Blueblood.”

Dulcimer swished his glass around. “The pieces come together nicely, don’t you think?”

“Thou art truly delusional.”

Dulcimer gave her a cocky smile. “I thought we’d moved past the ancient syntax.”

Hurricane pulled the blanket up to her neck, purposefully leaving the glass of wine on the ground. “I give respect to those who deserve it, Dulcimer.”

“Come on,” Dulcimer said. He flexed a foreleg. “Don’t tell me I wouldn’t cut a dashing figure as the Prince of Canterlot.”

Hurricane scrunched up her muzzle. She examined him from tail-tip to ears, her gray eyes scanning over every inch of him. “Thou art soft.”

Dulcimer’s smile disappeared without a trace. He furrowed his brow. “Are you calling me flabby?”

“Thou art fit.” Hurricane turned her nose up. “However, thou hast the look of one who strengthens his body for sport. Carefully sculpted clay shaped with a carver’s tool. Thou art soft.”

Dulcimers’ mouth was a thin line with a slight curve at the end. “As opposed to?”

Hurricane’s posture shifted. She sat up, her back straight and her chin high. “The body of a warrior. Forged in fire and beaten into shape. One that holds the strength required to survive.”

Dulcimer nodded in an understanding sort of way. “And what does that look like?”

Hurricane met his eyes. A small smile touched her face. She stood up and let the blanket slide off her back. She spread her wings, revealing sleek sinew and muscle on her torso and legs.

That, and the scars.

Lines traced across her flanks, back, and neck. Parts in her pale blue coat. Remnants of large gashes, epic battles, and forgotten wounds. None of it even came close to matching the gruesome scar on her cheek.

“The strength of the warrior, Dulcimer,” she said. “That—not politics, not money, not insider information—is true power.”

Viscount Dulcimer raised his glass. “It’s as impressive as I’d been lead to believe. As are you.”

Hurricane stepped down from the couch and raised her own glass. She drank deep and walked across the seating area, a slight sway in her hips. “And thou art full of surprises of thine own, art thou not?”

“I like to keep myself well-rounded. Well-read.” He watched as she set her glass beside the ice pail. She circled around the fainting couch, but not before flicking his nose with the tip of her tail. “I… always have at least one more secret to tell.”

She leaned over the high back of the couch. She ran her hooves over his shoulders and rubbed his chest from behind. “Then perhaps thou shall appreciate my secret.”

Her right foreleg tightened around his neck while the other grasped the side of his head. She twisted his head slightly, just enough for him to know she could continue the rest of the way at any time. She hissed in his ear. “Such as which of the two of us holds the real power here.”

He blew a gurgling breath through his mouth.

“Thou art nothing compared to me.” Hurricane lifted him into a seated position. “Thy paltry plans are weak imitations of the true future of Equestria. Thou art living a farce. Tell me, Dulcimer, who among us has any power?”

She never let go of his neck, but the next second saw her lying on her back, battered and bruised, every muscle aching. She tried to sit up, but was pressed down by a hoof to the throat. One blackened eye squinted. “Wh-wha—?”

“I have an answer to that,” Dulcimer said. His horn glowed with the aftereffects of a spell. “But our ‘Q’ and ‘A’ session just timed out. You can agree to work with me, or you can fade into obscurity when they find your body washed up at the base of Canter Mountain.”

“Thou dastard!”

Dulcimer closed his eyes and leaned harder on her neck. “This could have been a nice meeting between two close business partners, you know. This is your own fault. Are you with me?”

Hurricane ground her teeth. “Aye.”

“Excellent. All in all, not a bad meeting.” He smiled as he helped her up. She slumped against the sofa. “We should do this again sometime. See if it doesn’t end up different.”

She clutched her chest, which felt like she’d been repeatedly kicked in the ribs. “Aye. That we should.”

Ghosts

Daring and Care went right from the train station to Ponyville’s marketplace, having secured a place in the Ponyville Line’s Royal Car. Unlike Canterlot, there were no crowds. There was no riot. The market stalls were scattered and empty save for the few owned by diehards. Even those ponies were crowded around assorted radios and newspapers.

Care walked past the Carrot Clan cart. Her eyes and Golden Harvest’s met for a brief moment. When she opened her mouth to say something, Goldie looked down like she hadn’t noticed her.

Care furrowed her brow and kept walking.

The bell above Time Turner’s door jingled as Daring walked in. She looked around the shop at the bevy of clocks ticking happily. Two young mares were seated beside a large radio, listening to the broadcast.

“Things don’t add up. If Celestia was really on the road to recovery, she would have made a public appearance to reassure us!”

“And invite the assassin to try again? To hurt more innocent ponies?”

“To end the riots! To quell the panic! To show the ponies that no, she isn’t in danger, and neither is Equestria. She hasn’t appeared at all.”

“Do you really want to think about what that could mean?”

“Isn’t it irresponsible not to consider it?”

“Expert opinions. Gotta love them.” Daring moved to the side to let Care into the shop. “You ever heard of Time Turner, Cap?”

“Not... really…” Care loosened her green scarf. “Isn’t he in that ghost story about Ghastly Gorge?”

“Ghost story?” Daring Do crossed her forelegs. “What sorta ghost story?”

“Some of the guys talked about going down the gorge and seeing this stallion running like mad through it, screaming. They tried to call out to him, but he disappeared right before their eyes.”

Daring smirked. “Sounds like a unicorn teleport.”

“They thought so, too.” Care shrugged. “Then five minutes later he ran past them again, going the same direction, and disappeared in the exact same spot. They swear up and down he was an earth pony.”

A Cuckoo clock chimed two. Daring narrowed one eye. “So what makes it a ghost story?”

“That they could see through him,” Care said. “And it happened every five minutes on the dot. They said it had to be Time Turner’s ghost.” She cast a lazy glance over the pocket watches on display. “I went down there myself one time, but didn’t see or hear anything. I figured I was getting hazed.”

“Probably. Some ghosts ain’t dead yet, though.” Daring flapped a wing to get the two young mares’ attention. “Hay, either of you seen your boss?”

Twist’s head snapped up. She bit her lip. “I don’t work here.”

Dinky wiped her eyes and pointed to the back of the shop. “H-he’s in his workshop. Hasn’t come out all day. He doesn’t like being interrupted when he gets like this.”

“Tough cookies for him.” Daring Do cantered behind the counter. She paused with her hoof inches from the handle. “Say, do you think he’s heard about the whole assassination kerfuffle?”

Dinky grimaced. “Probably not.”

“Cool. Cool.” Daring lightly ground her teeth. “How’re you at bearing bad news, Captain?”

“I suck at it.”

“Cool. That makes two of us.” She pushed down the door handle. “Best to just rip the bandage right off the—”

She was greeted with a flash of blinding light that stabbed her eyes. She covered her face and stumbled back. “What the flying feather?”

“Oh, what now?” Time cranked the dial of his welding torch. The flame gradually died down from its highest intensity to a dull roar. He lifted his dark goggles and snarled. “What in the blazes is worth breaking the peace and sanctity of my workshop?”

“I didn’t know you were hiding a stinkin’ solar flare behind the door!” Daring shouted. “You trying to burn my retinas off?”

“You didn’t even knock.” Time Turner shut off his torch turned back to his work. A half-finished fob watch lay over a metal grate, a pristine weld circling around the edge. He edged it closer with tongs and inspected his work. “Nopony knocks anymore. They all have better things to do than announce their presence.”

He pushed away from the table and swiveled around to face the door. “Well congratulations, you have my attention. How may I be of service to…?” He paused when he saw Daring. He cleared his throat and rubbed his neck. “Oh. Doctor Do. Good to see you again.”

Daring held a hoof over one watering eye and gave him a half-grin. “Kinda like Hearth’s Warming on Nightmare Night, ain’t it?”

“In a number of ways.” He sucked in his lower lip. “Do you have a headache? The welding flare’s a pain in the flank if you stare at it too long.”

“Believe me, there was no staring.” She winked. “Not at the flame, anyway.”

“Gah…” Time Turner hurried across the room to open a cabinet. “You’re here about the test results, aren’t you? I think I’ve discovered a few things about the material that are absolutely fascinating. I’m sure Princess Twilight will—”

“Sparkle’s hurt, Time.” The last bits of the smile fell from her face, replaced with a level glare. “She’s hurt real bad.”

Time Turner shuffled a few pages of notes. He reshuffled them a few times. “Is she now? The assassin?”

“Bingo. Jumped her on the way to our ambush. Made the rest of us look like suckers.” Daring rubbed her gray mane. “Time, she took down an alicorn in direct combat. She’s not some run-of-the-mill madmare. She’s something special. Something different. I don’t know that we can take her alone.”

Care poked her head into the room. She looked from Daring to Time and back again. She tilted her head. “So this guy’s the legend?”

Time Turner shook his spiky, singed mane. “And you might be?”

Care stood at attention, chest out and head high. “Care Carrot, Captain of Celestia’s Personal Guard.”

“Oh.” Time opened his mouth to continue, but stopped himself. His mouth moved as several different responses came to mind, but he settled for another “Oh.”

Care’s ears drooped. “I guess I deserve that ‘oh.’”

“I’m… sure you did everything you could.” Time Turner coughed into his hoof. “I’m unsure about why you’re coming to me with this news, Daring. I’m not exactly the go-to pony for tracking down villains.”

Care shook her head. She blinked. “Did you really just call her Daring?”

Time froze. He cleared his throat and waved a hoof. “Er, I of course meant that she’s the author of the Daring Do books, and since she’s so closely associated with the character—”

“Chill, Time, she ought to know.” Daring Do held a hoof over her chest. “Care, it’s true. A.K. Yearling is just my penname. My real name is Daring Do.”

Care leveled her eyebrows. “You’re Daring Do.”

“That’s what I just said, yeah.”

“As in the actual Daring Do?”

“Like the one in the books, ahuh.”

Care’s tail swayed back and forth. “You’ve gone off the deep end. It’s finally happened. The comic books finally got to you.”

“They’re novels,” Daring huffed. “Autobiographical, slightly-embellished novels.”

Care gritted her teeth. “You’re trying to tell me there’s really a cat-monster thing living in the jungle and trying to take over the sun?”

“Yeah, and I whup his sorry tail every time.” Daring scoffed. “You know, that’s really not the hardest thing in my books to believe.”

“I only read the first one,” Care said.

“Whatever. Back on track.” Daring hopped over to Time Turner and grabbed his shoulder. “Time, we need to take out the killer before she hurts more ponies. Before she actually kills one of the princesses. We are running out of options.”

“What good am I?” Time Turner held his hooves over his chest. “I’m just a simple clockmaker from Ponyville, Daring. I’m not a hero.”

Daring Do scrunched her nose. “You said it yourself that you’re the Knight of Time—”

“I’m not, Daring. I got out. I stopped.” He took a step back. “It’s over. It got too rough, and I couldn’t take it.”

He took his chair beside the fob watch. He leaned on the grates. “I’m not a knight anymore.”

Care rolled her eyes and walked towards the doorway. Daring hung her head and let her loose mane fall over her face.

She blew a quick raspberry. “Like heck you aren’t.”

She rounded the table and stood across from him. She brought her face uncomfortably close to his. “You’re still a knight and you know it.”

He drew his head back. “What—?”

“If you started out anything like me, you ain’t finished yet.” Daring Do set her jaw. “She picked you personally, didn’t she?”

His eyes fell to the watch.

“Me, I was on my last legs. A grimy filly with a busted wing. No home, no family, no hope. Nothing but my books.” Daring reached over the table and tilted his chin up. “Then I joined the Royal Guard and it got better for a little bit. I had food, shelter, friends. I had a cause. And then it ended. My wings got too bad and I couldn’t do it anymore. Honorable discharge.”

Care leaned against the doorframe, one ear listening to the radio broadcast, the other to Daring.

“Had nowhere to go. Nopony to turn to. Nothing going for me.” Daring Do let a smile touch the corner of her mouth. “But then Celestia happened.”

Time swallowed.

Daring nodded. “You know what I’m talking about, don’t you? When there was nothing left, she just popped right into my life. She had this awesome book about ancient relics. She said she might know where to find the Sapphire Stone, and just needed somepony who could go after it. She gave me the supplies and sent me on my way.”

She let her hoof fall from his chin. He didn’t break eye contact.

“The book had solutions to all the puzzles,” Daring said. “Routes around all the traps. I got to the chamber and grabbed the Stone, just as Ahuizotl and his idiots showed up. I get the heck out of there, leading the jerks through all the traps and setting them off right on top of them.” She laughed. “I got out of the temple and found myself face-to-face with a phalanx of the Royal Guard. They were there to stop Ahuizotl, but by then I’d sent all the goons packing.”

She touched his hoof. “Time, Celestia told me that our history was precious, and deserved a worthy guardian. She said she’d never found a guardian more worthy than me. You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?”

His shoulders trembled. “W-well, yes.”

“Yeah.” Daring Do tugged him from his chair and led him to the door. “She named me the Knight of History then and there. She gave me a mission. A purpose. She did that to you, too, didn’t she?”

He took a deep breath. “Yes, of course she did.”

Daring Do shared a sad smile with him. “The princesses need help, and it’s up to the Knights of Harmony to answer the call. One last time, Time.” She winced. “That came out wrong.”

“I don’t think I could have said it better, myself.” He shut his eyes and tensed up. “Oh, but it’s a hard thing you ask of me, Daring.”

Daring Do shifted weight from hoof to hoof. “Maybe, but Celestia asked first.”

Care stood up and trotted over to the two ponies. “What we do, we do for Celestia. Right?”

“Celestia and Sparkle both.” Daring looked Time Turner square in the eyes. “Whadda yah say? We gonna catch a creep?”

Time Turner sighed. He followed it up with a chuckle. “I really couldn’t imagine myself doing less. Nothing less than the best.”

Daring Do chucked his shoulder. “Yeah, that’s the Time Turner I’ve heard about.”

He snapped off a salute. “Quite. Down to business, then. What leads do we have?”

“We’ve got the throwing knife,” Care said.

“Yes, the wingblade. A weapon.” Time Turner walked towards the wall and fiddled with the hands of a broken hanging clock. “In addition to the analysis I’ve done on it. What else?”

“Luna recognizes her as the same Commander Hurricane who helped raise her.” Daring Do scratched her wing. “Sounds crazy, but the evidence is there.”

“Identity.” Time Turner set the clock to ten-ten and pressed the face in. “Shut the door, will you, Captain?”

Care kicked the door and latched the lock. “Daring Do and I thought about going after the sealed archives to see just what kinda skeletons might be in Hurricane’s closet. Might give us a motive and a clue about where she’ll strike next.”

“Location.” The broken clock let out four “Cuckoos.” Time Turner gripped the pendulum and gave it a quarter-twist. “It’s a start.”

The wall behind the clock swung out, kicking up dust from the room within. It was a small walk-in closet, with two walls holding shelves and the third dotted with hooks. The shelves held a variety of small, clockwork gadgets. Some appeared to be pocket watches, other looked like steam engines. Bronze-colored leg guards and horseshoes hung from the back wall, surrounding a brown duster coat.

Something rumbled in the back of Time Turner’s throat. “Oh, but it’s a hard thing you ask of me.”

Daring Do bumped her shoulder against his. “Yeah, but you don’t have to do it alone.”

Time Turner nodded. “Then let’s get to work.” He walked inside the closet and pulled the door partway closed.

Care sidled over to Daring and whispered in her ear. “Question: Why him? Why not somepony who actually wants to fight? Somepony who’s actually on duty?”

“Because Hurricane knew where Sparkle was gonna be.” A shadow fell across Daring’s face as she frowned. “Either somepony knows just who to talk to, or we’ve got a mole in the Royal Guard.”

The door swung open. Daring jerked her head towards the closet. “At least we know he’s on our side.”

Time Turner folded down the collar of his duster. His pockets jangled with gears and springs. His right front leg was covered in a bronze-colored metal gauntlet. Dark goggles rested on his forehead as the strap flattened his mussed, burnt mane.

Daring Do made a low whistle.

“If we’re going to do something,” Time Turner said, “we’d better do it quickly.”

***

Blankety Blank walked through Ponyville’s streets. A receipt floated from an abandoned market stall to dance in the light breeze. The sun hid behind gray clouds, casting a dull orange glow over the town.

He was in his usual earth pony disguise. White coat, nearly-white mane, and pink eyes. He shuffled along in his own slow gait, looking for signs of life. He tasted the air and caught hints of the bitter fear and desperation that had overwhelmed him in Canterlot. A heavy sadness tingled through the windows and into the streets.

Ponyville’s resident princess had fallen. There was no denying the fact.

The castle loomed overhead, its blue crystal glowing in the orange light, lending it a slight purple tinge. He reached up and touched the door handle. The door opened before he could turn it. A tall, yellow-coated young mare walked out, calling over her shoulder.

“If yah need anythin’ yah just gotta make yer way tah the Acres, Spike!” she said. “You won’t have need of aught if’n yah just ask.”

Blankety stumbled back as his senses were assaulted. A smooth, warm, sweet sensation poured from the mare. It wasn’t directed towards him, but he couldn’t help but pick up the overflow. It tickled his nose like cinnamon and ginger. It spread over his tongue like fruit juice. His wiped his eyes when they started to water.

“You okay, sir?” she asked him. Her head tilted, causing the pink bow in her mane to bob. “Y’ look like yah got hit by a carriage.”

“I-I’m fine. Thank you, ma’am.” He blinked the tears from his eyes. “J-just winded, I guess.”

“Okay. If you’re sure.” She started to walk away as somebody else came up to the door. “See yah later, Spike.”

“Yeah. See yah.” Spike chewed his bottom lip before continuing. “Th-thanks for helping clean up!”

She smiled at him and made her way back to the Acres.

Blankety turned to the dragon and concentrated. He wasn’t releasing wave upon wave of sweetness. A bland, gluey taste echoed from Spike’s tired eyes, drooping shoulders, and pale scales. Still, through the gloom, there was a subtler flavor. Like a light drizzle of mango, cutting through the pain, giving him a smidgeon of hope.

“Blankety Blank?” Spike said. “I thought you would still be stuck in Canterlot. I didn’t think the trains would be allowing general travel.”

“I m-made my own way.” Blank wet his dry lips with a dryer tongue. “I n-need to speak with C-C-Captain Carrot. Is she back yet?”

Spike shook his head. “Haven’t seen her, but Aunt Yearling said they were on their way. You might as well come inside and wait a while.”

“Th-thanks.” Blankety walked inside while Spike shut the door behind him. “M-may I have a cup of tea?”

“Sure. I’ll put one on.” Spike got down on all fours to make his way to the kitchen. “Mint okay?”

“Of c-course.” Blank shrugged off his light jacket. He headed for the coat rack placed just beside the door.

A hot, jagged pain shot through his hoof. He leaped up and nearly fell on his side in his haste to get away from the heat. He held the burnt hoof with the other and looked at what was surely either a puncture or a blister.

It was as pristine as his hoof ever got. Unblemished, save for the usual chipping he got from walking down the road. Perfectly fine.

He looked at where he’d stepped. Missed by both Spike and Apple Bloom in their efforts to tidy up, a small, shriveled scrap of paper lay on the floor. He crawled up to it and touched it with the tip of his hoof. That same pain shot through his leg.

He dulled his senses with a quick spell and touched it again. It was hot, but not unbearable. He unfolded it and tried to make out the mangled script. All that remained after being crumpled up was the signature. Merry Mare.

He frowned. He shut his eyes and focused on the feelings, trying to decipher them without hurting himself. They came from two sources, and the result was jumbled. Anger. Rage. Pain. Suffering. Sadness.

He focused on the signature itself, on the pony who’d written it. A hint of cookies baking, coupled with the stench of decay. A horrifying mix of emotions.

He tucked the mangled letter away in his saddlebags and trotted to the kitchen.

***

King Andean Ursagryph walked along the edge of Canter Mountain alongside his two daughters. The air was clear, free of the noise of riots and angry, scared ponies. He smiled as Stella—with her fuzzy white feathers and fur—hopped from rock to rock, stretching her wings.

“This wasn’t how I expected our first visit to go,” Corona said in the griffon language.

Andean looked down at his eldest daughter. Her coloration was light brown for her lion half and dark brown on her eagle half. The color was broken by a fiery streak atop her head that tapered down her back, accompanied by a similar flash on each wingtip. She already had signs of greater magic than the rest of their species, even though she was still a few years from maturation. She would be a powerful ruler indeed.

“It wasn’t my wish either, but we must make the best of it.” Andean trained his sharp eyes further up the mountain. He could see a series of caves carved into the side. Not at all natural. “Have you noticed the differences between how our people and theirs act?”

“Yes. A few.” Corona twiddled two of her talons. “They seem nicer. A little stuffy, sometimes, but nicer. They try to be polite.”

“Stuffy?” Andean smirked. “That, I believe, is completely isolated to the nobility. I’ve met some ponies who are the absolute opposite of stuffy.”

“Like Miss Applejack!” Stella called out from a small peak. “She uses funny words like ‘darn,’ ‘y’all,’ and ‘shucks’!”

“Yes, exactly.” Andean raised an eyebrow. “I’m curious as to why you believe them nicer.”

“They… care for the weak. They will not see you as less if you are not as smart or as strong as they.”

Andean narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. “You believe we do not care for our weak?”

“That is not what I meant to say.” Corona scratched one feathery ear. “We care for our sick, yes, and we care for our elderly. But they place a great emphasis on friendship…” She tilted her head. “Even with those in the lower classes. Isn’t Applejack a farmer and also a lord mayor?”

“They don’t place nearly as much of an emphasis on merit as we do.” Andean spread his wings partway to feel the wind in his feathers. “Applejack was elected based on her ability to do her job, I believe. But do not forget those who rose to power through blood, such as the aptly-named Prince Blueblood.”

He scowled. “Also, do not mistake their concern for compassion. They understand the ways of manipulation far better than most griffons. They know how to use hypocrisy as a tool. They will pull the thorn from your paw… for a favor.”

Corona turned her eyes down. “I just know that many of our lords bullied their way into power.”

Andean sighed. He lay his wingtip over Corona’s shoulders. “Indeed. That is why the King or Queen must be ready to make sure the bullies cannot abuse their power further.”

“I understand, father.” Corona’s ears drooped. “Until such a time comes that someone can take the power from them.”

Andean winced. “I was going to leave that last part unspoken.”

“Da! Come quickly! It’s the dragon!”

Stella’s shout grasped their ears. They flew toward the top of the next hill where the little griffon chick had hopped. Andean leaned on an outcropping, gripping it with a scarred talon. “My word.”

Shardscale was rolled up in a fetal position, her tail clutched tight to her chest. She shivered, rattling her scales and shaking her wings. She opened one eye and looked up at them. “H-hay, guys.”

“Are you okay?” Stella asked, switching to Equestrian. She crawled off her rock perch and skittered down the green hill. “You look cold.”

“W-well, it is fall, after all.” Shard’s shoulders jerked as she lifted herself upright. “I, ah, I was just resting.”

Andean crossed the distance with a single flap of his wings, Corona behind him. “I thought dragons were warmed by an inner fire.”

“Ehh… It’s a funny thing. Our warmth is connected to our magic, and our magic is connected to our warmth.” Shard waved a hand. “It’s complicated. I was just perusing the cemetery. Got done and started heading back to the castle, got sidetracked. No big.”

“Hmm.” Andean rested a talon on the hilt of his ceremonial broadsword. “What were you doing in the cemetery?”

“Recording the names of the fallen.” Shardscale tapped her clawtips together. “If you’ve got history, but don’t have the names and faces to go with it, it just becomes dates and numbers.”

Stella tugged on her father’s feathers. Her wings drooped and her eyelids were low. “I’m tired, Da.”

Andean stiffened. He lifted an arm and quickly set Stella on his back. “Rest, Daughter. Close your eyes and think of all the questions you’ll want to ask me later.”

As Stella nuzzled into his feathers and fur, Andean turned one eye to Shard. “That is wise, and I thank you for that service. Their sacrifice must not be forgotten.”

Sharscale rubbed her upper arms. “Was going real good, too, until I got to the unicorn family catacombs. Got this chill that ran through my whole body. Just about put me out of commission.” She grinned. “If I believed in ghosts, I’d say it was haunted.”

Corona tilted her ears back. “You don’t believe in ghosts?”

Shardscale smiled and shook her head.

“Interesting.” Andean ran his talon through his beard. “Surely, you acknowledge the existence of wights?”

Stella yawned from Andean’s back. “What’re wights?”

“Creepy monsters.” Shard blew a breath of flame which reconfigured itself into a scroll. She skimmed over her notes. “Kinda a mix between changelings and windigos. They take the form of rotten corpses and feed off the terror of people visiting the grave.” She ignited the page and allowed it to travel back to her cache. “Not actually ghosts. Not even undead.”

“Equestrians, minotaurs, zebras, they’re all the same.” Andean sneered. “If you keep your bodies lying around, you leave yourself susceptible to wight infestations. Will you inform Luna that she might have a problem?”

“One more atop the pile. What can it hurt?” Shard shrugged. “I’ll tell her, but she’ll probably have other things on her mind.”

Corona clicked her beak. “Why don’t you believe in ghosts, Miss Shardscale?”

“Please, call me Shard.” The dragon hauled herself onto her hind legs. “And as much fun as it’d be to haunt a jerk or two, I know where I’m going when I die.” She smiled up at the sky. “I’m getting a star. Heck, maybe they’ll even let me have a whole constellation.”

She popped her knuckles. “You guys take care. I’ve got a couple of jobs to take care of. See yah.”

She flew off, leaving the three griffons on the green hillside. Corona ran her palm across Stella’s head as the little sister slept. “Shard is more knowledgeable than she appears.”

Andean Ursagryph glared after the dragon. “Something to keep in mind for all your future acquaintances, Corona.”

***

“Luna, do sit up straight!”

Luna jerked up. She found herself caught up in a moment of navel-gazing. Of contemplation. Of concern for her sister and Twilight’s condition.

She looked across the table and saw two teenaged alicorn mares also straightening their posture. It took until then to realize that the comment wasn’t directed at her. The dream had shifted while she hadn’t been paying attention. Rather than in the midst of camp, in the middle of Hurricane’s training session, they were in the Crystal Empire.

Queen Platinum sat at the head of the table. She had ascended to the throne when her father, King Pewter, had fallen ill. Shortly thereafter, he had fallen asleep one final time.

“I’m so glad you two could finally visit the Crystal Empire,” the silvery unicorn gushed, her thick lips puckering. “I love the Empire, but Equestria called me away so many times… Well, I suppose that’s up to Puddinghead and Hurricane to settle now, isn’t it?”

Teenaged Celestia—maybe seventeen or eighteen, by Luna’s reckoning—smiled a saintly smile. “I’m sure we’ll be fine. If we ever need your advice, you’re merely a letter away.”

Platinum smiled. “Thou really do know just what to say, Celestia.”

Teenaged Luna, on the other hoof, just looked out the crystalline window into the whirling snow. She wore a frown that was growing more and more perpetual as the days went by and the dreams moved forward. Luna winced as a flood of memories rushed back. No respect. No appreciation. No—

“Luna, do check thy posture. A lady does not show discomfort with her face, only her fan.” Platinum fluttered a paper fan beside her cheek. “Consider this good practice for an event. If you two are to lead our armed forces, it behooves you to look the part of powerful, clever generals.”

No end to the patronizing. Luna looked over at her double and couldn’t ignore the dark gleam in her eye. The little preview of things to come that nopony noticed until it was too late.

Luna rubbed the black patch of her coat, noting with dismay that her teenage body didn’t have one. She sighed. “Would that I were traveling through time and could actually change these events.”

“Hmm?” Celestia turned as the soup arrived. “Did thou say something, Luna?”

“Nay,” the teenaged Luna replied. She lifted her spoon in a bubble of magic and, with a pointed look at Platinum, eased a spoonful of soup into her mouth.

“That’s it, Luna. Grace, poise, sophistication!” Platinum giggled into her fan. “Thou have a wonderful smolder that will have the colts falling all over thee.” She frowned at the chair on the far end of the table. “Speaking of such, I hope our other guest arrives soon, or he may miss the main course!”

Celestia took a perfect, dainty sip. “Your son, you said?”

“Indeed. The boy’s becoming a recluse, if thou ask me. Always studying, always working. Still, he’ll be a fine king someday.” Platinum shivered with glee. “I’m so excited for thou to meet him. He’s a bit older than thou, but he shares thy interest in magic. I’m sure you three will have plenty to talk about.”

Teenaged Luna pursed her lips, her wings fidgeting behind her back. “What is his name?”

The door opened. The guards moved to the side as a tall unicorn stallion walked through. He turned to Platinum and spoke in a deep, reverberating voice. “I’m sorry, Mother. My studies kept me a while longer than I wished.”

The elder Luna, the one who had lived the memory before, nearly fell from her chair. She looked at Celestia and saw the breath catch in her throat.

The stallion’s gray coat shimmered with the power of the crystal ponies. His black mane flowed like water over his shoulders. His horn was expertly filed to a spiraling point. His deep green eyes bored into the hearts of everypony present. He bowed his head. “It is an honor to finally meet the prophesied alicorns face-to-face. I am Prince Sombra.”

Celestia stood up on shaky legs. She walked halfway down the table, much to the teenaged Luna’s confusion. “Is it you? Is it really you?”

Prince Sombra frowned. He squinted at Celestia. “Have we met?”

Celestia’s eyes widened. She shook her head and forced a laugh. “Oh, no. Of course not. No, you just reminded me of somepony else I know. I apologize.”

Prince Sombra raised an eyebrow. “Nothing to apologize for, my lady. Mistakes do happen.”

He chose to take a seat right next to the elder Luna, directly across from the two teen sisters. “Now then,” he said as the servant laid a dish in front of him, “I am most eager to hear of your adventures.”

***

“Always.”

Luna opened her eyes. She stood up and shook her wings free of kinks and cramps. The afternoon sun shone through the balcony door of the Dream’s Keep. None of the wall mirrors showed dreams in progress.

Luna clicked her hoof against the marble floor, her face stony. She trotted down, through the tower’s stairwell and into the main castle building. A servant trailed in her wake, doing his best to catch up to her long strides with his short, pudgy legs.

“Princess, dear Princess! Oh for the love—” He huffed and pushed himself into a gallop. He reached her side and rubbed his monocle against his red overcoat. “Princess, may I have a word?”

“Mister Natter, you may have as many as you wish.” She forced herself not to smirk. It took some effort. “Provided you keep up.”

“Bah.” Natter’s face was already beginning to grow red beneath his blue coat. “Blueblood insists that he has something to speak to you about Princess Celestia’s condition. You were absent for your luncheon with the griffon king and his family, as you have been for the past three days. Three, Princess.”

He glared at her. She paid him no mind. He continued. “Shardscale wishes to speak to you about a potential infestation in the cemetery. There is also an opinion going around, increasing in popularity, that your statement after Princess Sparkle’s disappearance from the public eye was dissatisfactory. I have taken the liberty of scheduling a press conference—”

“No,” Luna said. “No press conference. No cameras or reporters. I will release a written statement myself. Cancel the conference or reschedule it for another speaker.”

“All due respect, Princess, the ponies are hungry for—”

“All due respect, Scheduling Advisor, but I am not about to risk endangering...” Luna stopped before a heavy wooden door. The symbol of the sun was painted on a lovingly-carved, shallow relief. Golden handles lay untouched for several weeks. “My sister.”

She sucked on her cheek. “Tell Shardscale to speak with Stonewall about the cemetery. She’s the Captain of the Guard. It’s her job to handle things like this.” She lay a hoof on his shoulder. “Thank you, Royal Scheduling Advisor Natter, for your hard work and dedication. Kibitz would be proud.”

Natter cleared his throat and straightened his cravat. “Old granddad taught me everything he knows.”

“It shows.” Luna gestured down the hall. “Be on your way, now. And I will do my utmost to join the griffons for brunch tomorrow. I give you my word.”

“Thank you, Princess.” He bobbed his head. “Tally-ho and good day.”

Once he was out of sight, Luna opened the room: Celestia’s private chambers. With nopony to tend to the fireplace, it had grown cold. What little warmth could be felt was an illusion, brought about by the bright curtains on the windows, silky sheets on the bed, and cheerful pictures on the wall. Most were of Twilight and her friends in Ponyville, but there were a few other subjects. The day Luna returned from the moon was front and center over the mantle.

Luna spent a moment staring at her image. She wore a garland around her neck and a tear in her eye. An end to the darkness, to the shadows, to the nightmare.

She pulled herself away and walked up to a small, potted tree. It was a head taller than her, its branches growing haphazard lengths without proper cultivation. Its leaves turned colors, the cold of the outdoors snaking in to speak of winter sleep.

Luna reached out to touch a shard of glass dangling from one branch. Her eye reflected on its mirrored surface. It was the final shard of a parallel world; the last proof that another Equestria, a twisted, dark doppelganger, even existed.

On another branch, there was a ticket. A scrap of paper, shredded by time and magic. Across its surface, written in lovely, careful pen strokes, was one word: “Always.”

The last proof of a love Celestia had lost to a mocking, cruel twist of fate.

“So, sister, you met the kind, mirrored King Sombra before you met our world’s cruel despot.” Luna sighed and stroked the leaves of the tree. “Perhaps this time I can be there to comfort you in your loss.”

Author's Note

For the record, thou is singular and you is plural. No, I wasn't screwing up with Platinum's dialogue. Not that way, at least.

Responsibility

“And you’ve scoured Princess Twilight’s archives?” Time Turner asked. He hurried to catch up to the two mares. They stepped lightly, since they weren’t burdened with a coat and heavy, metal gear. “And you’ve found nothing?”

“We’ve found everything we could,” Daring replied. “Looked through my collection, too. Nadda for the usable info, but it’s a start.”

“So what’s the plan?” Time Turner looked to the rooftops. The sun set behind the crystal castle, turning its blue surface a deep purple. It loomed overhead as they drew closer. “Very, very few ponies are allowed in the sealed archives for obvious reasons.”

Daring Do shook her mane. “Obvious reasons? Like what?”

Care flipped up the collar of her plaid jacket as a chill wind brushed past. “Not much. Just a few of Sombra’s spellbooks, a complete history of Starswirl’s mirrors, everything we know about Ahuizotl’s Sun Devices, a few shadow trinkets, three swords that can control the weather, and Princess Sparkle’s thesis on stealing magic.” She smirked. “Nope. Nothing that we wouldn’t wanna give the general public access to.”

“Okay, okay, the message is clear, Cap.” Daring returned the smile. “I figured we could just ask Luna. If we tell her why we’re going in, there shouldn’t be a problem.”

Time nodded. “And if she refuses?”

“In the unlikely event that she’s gone bonkers and can’t see reason…” Daring extended her wings. “I’ve gotten into and out of tighter spots.”

“You’re talking about breaking in.” Care’s jaw dropped. She shot Time a glance. “She’s talking about breaking in!”

“As a super-extreme last resort!” Daring waved a hoof. “Just in case things go belly-up. In that very unlikely, hypothetical event. Don’t overreact”

Care stomped a hoof. “I might not overreact if you weren’t so glib about—”

“Ladies, please.” Time Turner stood before the castle door, the edges of his duster swaying in the breeze. “We are guests here.”

Care trotted past Time and Daring, her eyes narrowed. She gave the door three solid whacks.

They waited.

“You know, it’s a big castle,” Daring said. “Maybe he’s got a ways to go to reach the door.”

Care knocked again.

They waited.

Time Turner took a step back and looked up. “You know, the castle doesn’t look so bad if you see it in the right light.”

Care pounded the door until it opened. She stumbled through with the force of her swing and found herself eye-to-eye with Blankety Blank.

“S-Spike turned in for the evening. Sorry I took so l-long.” His ears twitched as he averted his eyes. “C-come in. Please.”

Daring Do galloped into the hall. “Come on, guys! I’ve got my notes in the library. Maybe we can cross-reference mine and Time—”

“Wait!” Blankety coughed into his hoof. “Wait. I n-need to speak with C-captain Carrot.”

Daring Do skidded to a halt. “Okay. Spit it out, stallion.”

“A-alone.” Blankety Blank pulled his ears down to match his drooping shoulders. “S-sorry, Miss Yearling, Specialist Turner. It n-needs to be alone.”

Time turned his eyes up in thought. He leaned towards the small, white earth pony. “Have we been introduced?”

“N-no, I don’t believe so.”

“Really?” Time lifted an eyebrow. “Because you remind me of…” He shook his head. “Well, a very long story. Never mind, then.”

He lifted an armored hoof to Care. “Are you alright with this?”

The skin around Care’s eyes tightened as she looked from Time to Blankety. “Yeah. Yeah, I am. I think it’s time Mister Blank and I had a good, long talk.”

Daring wrapped a foreleg around Time’s. “Fine. We’ll just be on our way and let you and Mister Blank have a little”—her eyebrows danced—“alone time.”

Time looked down at Daring. “That is very clearly not what is happening here—”

“Shut up and go with it.” Daring dragged him away with small, jerking movements. “See you guys later. Feel free to stop by when you’re done. We’ll be working hard.”

“This is hardly working,” Time Turner mumbled as he rounded a corner with her.

Care took a few steps towards the throne room. She looked back to see Blankety Blank staring after Time and Daring, his ears perked and his eyes intent.

“Hay, wasn’t there some big, super-important thing you had to risk showing your face over?” Care slumped against the throne with a butterfly emblazoned on the top. She didn’t dare sit in the chair itself. “You can question the wisdom of that particular relationship later.”

Blankety approached slowly. He sat across from her, his back against the throne with the glyph of an apple. He looked from his throne to hers. “Symbolic much?”

“Can we please get this over with?” Care wrapped her mane in a tight ponytail. “I have a job to do.”

Blank flinched. He took a breath before speaking. “B-Blueblood’s in danger.”

“That’s your job, huh? Blueblood’s bodyguard? That sucks.” She pulled off her jacket as the fires of friendship beneath the throne warmed her. “He hit on me once, when I first joined the guard. That didn’t last too long.”

“S-sorry.” Blankety Blank rubbed his hooves together. “N-no, I’m not his bodyguard. I’m m-more of a shadow. I f-follow him and watch to m-make sure the ponies who want him d-dead… don’t get wh-what they want. It w-was supposed to be t-temp-temporary, but I can’t get solid evidence.”

“What? You want my help to get it?” She held her forelegs out. “Dunno, if you’ve noticed, but I’ve kinda got a lot on my plate already. Now if you’ll excuse me—”

“I th-th-ink the assassin m-might be working with them,” Blank said in a rush. He continued as she sat back. “S-same modus operandi. Royalty targ-targeted at social events. D-Dulcimer tried to p-p-poison Blueblood. Th-the assassin stabbed Celestia. Th-they might be connected.”

Care’s ears snapped forward. “Dulcimer? The Viscount?”

“Y-you know him?”

“I know of him. You don’t get to be Captain of Celestia’s Personal Guard without knowing all the nobles.” Care rubbed her head just below her horn. “Never saw him as the murdering type. How do you know it’s him?”

“Because…” Blank brushed his light blond mane. “Because I know what he wants.”

Care let out a loud breath. “If you know it’s him, then nail him. If you don’t have solid evidence, use yourself as a witness. Why come to me in secret? Why not just give your testimony in court?”

Blank looked at the thrones all around. He nibbled his bottom lip.

Care stood up. “If you wanna double up investigations, you’re gonna have to give me something to go on. Why should I trust you with our information?”

Blankety Blank sighed. He lifted a white hoof. It burst into green flames.

Care nearly fell on her rear. She scampered across the room, gathering her jacket up in a spell to snuff out the fire. She let out a “Whoa!” when the searing green spread to every corner of his body. She slid to a halt and grasped the jacket.

The fire died. A few cinders drifted down to the crystal floor here and there. In Blankety Blanks place, a small, black changeling sat. It lifted its head, bringing its blue, multifaceted eyes to bear. A smile traced its way across half of its face. A fang slid across a hard lip.

“All th-things considered, y-you probably shouldn’t. Trust me, I mean.”

Care’s hoof came out and struck him in the throat. She pressed him against the throne’s armrest, her eyes steely and her horn aglow. “What did you do to the real Blank?”

“I am—” The changeling choked. “I a-a-am the real Blank! It’s a—hack!—a cover. I m-made him up myself.”

“Why should I trust you?” Care snapped. “Why shouldn’t I just end you right this second?”

“What r-reason did I have,” the changeling gasped, “to show m-myself to you?”

Care scowled. “I dunno. Suicide by guard?” She lifted her weight from him and let him tumble to the floor. She pulled on her jacket, but left it unzipped. “So you’ve got my attention. Now what? What’s your game, changeling?”

“My name’s s-still Blankety Blank,” the changeling said. “You don’t n-need to just drop it.”

“Answer the darn question!”

“I work for Twilight Velvet. On the p-police force.” The changeling extended shaking, transparent wings. “J-just ask her. She’ll v-v-vouch.”

Care kept her eyes on him as she put a little distance between them. “What if I don’t believe you?”

“Th-then Blueblood dies. And m-maybe a whole l-lot of other p-ponies, too.” He bowed his head, pointing his horn away from her. “P-please. Chief Velvet’s coming to Ponyville soon. You c-can ask her then.”

Care stood still for a moment, doing nothing but breathe and think. She gave him a curt nod. “Fine. But I’m not taking my eyes off you for a second. Not one.”

“G-good,” the changeling said. “Then m-maybe we’ll actually w-work together.”

Care snorted. “Come on. Let’s show Daa—Yearling and Turner.”

“N-no. We can’t tell them.”

“Are you nutso? Are you bonkers? Do you even give a flying feather?” Care pointed down a random hallway. “Do you think for even a second that I’m gonna let them be oblivious to the changeling living right under their noses?”

“No,” the changeling said. “Y-you’re too smart for that.”

Care gave him a double-take. She sat down and scuffed a hoof.

“But I hope th-that you’re also sm-smart enough to understand…” The antennae atop his head wriggled. “To-to understand that telling them would take up t-time we don’t have. Best to wait and l-l-let it come from a m-mouth they trust. Th-that trusts me.”

Care inclined her head. “You could be buying time.”

“Yes. Y-yes I could.” The changeling sighed. “In th-the end, it’s your d-decision.”

Care pressed her lips together. She jumped to her hooves and trotted towards the library.

“But r-remember that I just put m-my life in your hooves!” The changeling’s horn flared as he followed her, shrouding his body in fire and replacing black chitin with white hair. “If you d-decide to turn me in, y-you’ve basically killed me! D-d-don’t let all your guilt cl-cloud your good judgment—”

“You stay out of my head!” she shouted. She whirled on him and bumped her snout against his. “Stay out of my mind, stay out of my thoughts! Don’t even think about feeding off of my emotions!”

He gritted his teeth as his pupils shrunk. “It-it’s not exactly something I c-c-can turn off.”

“I don’t take kindly to people digging through my private feelings,” she growled.

“No… I’m sorry.” He took a step back and shut his eyes. “Y-you’re just… practically broadcasting it.”

Care’s face softened and her cheeks flushed. She stomped a hoof. “Alright, then.”

Blankety Blank opened his eyes. He hunched his shoulders and ducked his head. “‘Alright,’ what?”

“I’ll keep your secret until Twilight Velvet comes.” She narrowed hard, pink eyes. “If you can keep mine. Fair’s fair?”

Blank nodded. She marched away, double-time.

“Sh-she wouldn’t want you to be s-so hard on yourself, you know.” Blankety cantered to follow her large strides. “Celestia w-would understand that m-mistakes happen.”

“How dare you try to speak for her?” Care said, though there was no force behind her voice. There was just a heavy tiredness. “What makes you think you know her so well?”

“Sh-she’s the most amazing pony I’ve ever m-met,” Blank said. A small smile touched the corner of his mouth. “Th-this shining beacon of h-hope and wisdom.” The smile faded. “And sh-she needs us. She needs her knights.”

Care’s ear twitched. Blank caught the shift, but ignored it.

“She saved my l-life, you know.” Blankety Blank watched the crystalline floor. “She’s the s-strongest pony I know.”

“Strongest pony,” Care said. “The strongest pony in the entire world. But not invincible.”

“N-nopony is,” Blank muttered.

***

Hurricane hugged the corner of the hallway. The big pegasus who had carried her from the warehouse was talking with an earth pony security guard a few feet away. She waited as their conversation on sports dwindled. When they had exhausted their supply of game scores, the big pegasus motioned for the door.

“Lunch hour for me,” he said. “What’d you bring?”

“The wife packed asparagus. Again.” The earth pony stuck his tongue out. “She knows what that stuff does to me.”

“Yeah, and so does everypony else at the Blueblood estate.” The big pegasus chucked his shoulder. “Come on, Crab Apple, let’s get lunch hour over with.”

“I’m telling you, Zephyr,” the earth pony said as they trotted away. “It’s like she’s trying to poison me with these horseapples.”

Hurricane squinted as they disappeared down the hall. “Thou dost not know poison, foal.”

She bent down and crawled towards the doorway. She sneered. Her room had been unguarded. Her weapons had not been returned, but it was no major loss. There was barely anything between her and the outdoors. Perhaps this Dulcimer was not merely playing the fool.

She hesitated with her hoof on the handle. Dulcimer could be playing her for the fool, of course. It was a dire choice, either way. She stiffened her back and pulled the handle down. Better to be hunted down by the unicorn than to be under his roof and command.

Outside, rosebushes lined the walls of the manor. They grew tall, twice as high as her head. The flowers were dim and brown because of the chill fall air. Hedges were planted around the edge of the property; a wall to keep out intruders.

They couldn’t keep her in. She grinned and ignored the burning sensation in her cheek. She spread her wings and took off.

She jolted to a stop in midair. Sharp pain ran through her rear-left leg. She looked down to see a thorny vine wrapped around her ankle. It dragged her closer to the rosebush.

The bush snarled.

She jerked away, snapping the vine. Another lasso struck her front-right leg. It was followed by several more clawing at her. Her eyes widened as the rosebushes collapsed and twisted around themselves. Wood snapped and crackled. Legs took form. Sharp fangs, long ears, blazing eyes.

In concert, the rosebushes reconfigured themselves into timberwolves. They leaped and dragged her down to earth. They swarmed, biting and clawing and scraping and barking. She bucked one to pieces, but it was replaced by two more. They restrained her six limbs and went for her throat.

“Enough!”

The attack ceased. The timberwolves slid away, expanding and falling apart. Within a minute, the wolves were once again unassuming bushes decorating the manor grounds.

Hurricane rolled over and examined her body. She hadn’t suffered anything more than minor bruises and scrapes. She looked up at the open doors to see a small, thin earth pony with a slack, brown mane. She pulled herself upright. “To what do I owe the assistance?”

“We haven’t been introduced,” the pony said. “I’m Scuttlebutt, personal aide to Viscount Dulcimer.” He gave her a cheese-eating grin. “I suppose you’ve realized that escape is very unlikely.”

“I shall be ready for it, next time.” Hurricane spat on the ground. “Unexpected though they were, timberwolves are not durable in the slightest.”

“How adorable. You think that’s all you need to fear?” Scuttlebutt gestured to the upper windows of the mansion. “You’ve been watched since you arrived.”

She looked up. In the higher windows, a pony sat with a bow. The notched arrow aimed directly for her heart.

“Blueblood is paranoid,” Scuttlebutt said. “Dulcimer, moreso.”

Hurricane frowned. “Blueblood knows I am here?”

“Not in the slightest. He’s in Canterlot, grieving for his nearly-departed aunt.” Scuttlebutt all but glided down the steps with smooth, serpentine movements. “But his security still has its job to do protecting his home.”

“And thus Dulcimer benefits.” Hurricane folded her wings across her back. “I am surprised the dastard has not come to gloat personally. Why did he send thee?”

“He didn’t. Frankly, my dear, I’d like to keep this conversation between the two of us.” Scuttlebutt rolled his eyes. “Three of us, I suppose, if you include Fletcher up there.”

Hurricane glanced at the bow. The string slacked as Scuttlebutt got closer to her.

“The purpose of this conversation is not to force you to stay.” Scuttlebutt’s smile evaporated. “It’s to make you want to stay.”

“Through threat of force?”

“Through promise of victory.” Scuttlebutt leaned close to her ear, prompting the hair on the back of her neck to stand up straight. “You see, Commander, we serve the same master.”

Hurricane leaned back. “I serve not Dulcimer—”

“Not Dulcimer,” Scuttlebutt said. His left ear twitched down at an odd angle. “I have made sure the mirror is secure. Far from prying eyes who do not share our sympathies.” He lifted a package from his back and presented it to her. “Here. A token of my loyalty.”

She carefully lifted the lid. A set of fifty throwing knives lay inside, created to her exact specifications. Not an ounce out of place, not a symbol distorted.

Hurricane kept her mouth in a thin line while her heart rate increased. “Indeed. Then you understand what I must do.”

“I understand that you have a better chance of success if you stay with Dulcimer for a time.” Scuttlebutt’s cheese-eating grin encompassed his entire face.

“Does he share our cause?”

“No, I’m afraid not.” Scuttlebutt rolled his eyes. “He has far too much ambition. He would never allow the rightful rulers of the land to take control. He wants the crown.” He shrugged. “Still, he is useful as a pawn.”

Hurricane frowned. “It is a dangerous game you play.”

“It’s a dangerous game we all play.” He bobbed his head from side to side. “And like most, it’s a game better played with friends.”

Hurricane nodded slowly. “You have been in contact with… with the sisters?”

“I wouldn’t be having this conversation with you if I hadn’t been given permission.” Scuttlebutt opened his beady eyes wide. “They hope they have your cooperation.”

Hurricane worried her lower lip. “What of Dulcimer’s plans for Blueblood? Shall I slay the prince as he has requested?”

“Blueblood doesn’t factor into our long-term plans. Do what you wish.” Scuttlebutt jerked his head towards the door. “It will probably ease any concerns Dulcimer has about you. We don’t want the viscount to suspect your true loyalty.”

“I only wanted to do what was necessary, Scuttlebutt,” Hurricane said. “I do not wish to see innocents caught in the crossfire.”

“There will always be innocents in the crossfire, Commander.” Scuttlebutt smiled. “A crying shame, I’m sure.”

Hurricane seethed. “Do not be so glib about—”

A cloud of smoke flashed through the air, trailing sparks. It swirled before Hurricane’s face before flashing and dissipating. A scroll, sealed with a simple wax circle, fell into her waiting wing. She bit the wax in two and let the paper fall loose. “Our contact in the Royal Guard says they are moving Princess Celestia and Twilight Sparkle in mere days.”

She lowered the scroll and looked off into the middle-distance. “And that Blueblood insists on carrying them in his personal airship.”

“Well, well, well. Three birds with one stone.” Scuttlebutt chuckled. “Seems some innocents can’t help but jump into the crossfire, hmm?”

Hurricane shut her eyes. Her ears drooped as she hung her head.

“Unfortunately, your custom armor won’t be done by that time. You’ll have to make do with what the security detail can offer you.” Scuttlebutt slithered up the stairs and held the door for her. “Still, I think the world-famous assassin has her next target.”

Hurricane stepped inside. She removed the thin, light knives from the box and slid them between her feathers. She flexed her wings and watched the wingblades shine in the sunlight. “Dulcimer promised me soldiers.”

“Exactly correct.” Scuttlebutt gave a sharp whistle. “Zephyr? Come here, will you?”

The big pegasus rounded the corner, his large, pale yellow forelegs pounding the carpet. He grinned and flicked his light gray tail. “Orders, sir?”

“Hurricane here has a mission for you.” Scuttlebutt turned to her. “Zephyr here is the head of security, and a high-ranking member of our little coup. He’ll act as your lieutenant.”

Hurricane looked him up and down with a furrowed brow. “Very well. The airship departs in two days, and we shall attack in three. Be ready at that time.”

Zephyr gave her a light nod and turned for the hallway.

“And Zephyr?” Hurricane said.

Zephyr pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow.

“Please…” Hurricane whispered. “Leave Blueblood to me.”

Scuttlebutt escorted her to her room. She lay on her soft bed and cranked on her radio. The signal came through much clearer through the high-quality setup than through her homemade contraption. She covered her muzzle with a foreleg and allowed the music to wash over her ears.

“Platinum… I am so sorry.”

***

Lunch was quiet at Canterlot Castle. Luna spooned potato soup into her mouth as the griffons dug into their servings of fish. She smiled. Even though she had access to silverware, the little Stella was still getting garlic butter all over her feathers.

Luna looked at Andean, who was also smiling at his daughter’s antics. He caught her eye and dropped his smile.

“I’m surprised you decided to dine with us, Princess.” He twisted his head to the side to look her in the eye. “I had assumed you had other things to deal with.”

“I have no excuse for being a neglectful host, King Andean.” Luna bowed her head, mostly to avoid his condor-like stare. “I only wish I could make this stay in Equestria a less somber affair.”

Andean brought his giant talons together and hunched over the table. His sheer bulk covered nearly a quarter of it. “Then shall we at last talk turkey?”

Stella giggled. Corona shushed her, but also had a smile on her beak.

“Talk turkey?” Luna’s ears fell back. “I’m unfamiliar with the phrase, but I can assume it’s a pun.”

“It just means to talk frankly. Without pretenses.” Andean clicked his beak. “I want ambrosia. I need ambrosia.”

Luna sighed. “Have your talks with the breezies borne no fruit?”

“No fruit and less medicine.” He pointed a nail. “But you Equestrians supply them with the pollen to make the ambrosia. You have the highest ambrosia concentration outside of Breezy Bastion itself. We already have a trade system in place, and we can no doubt simply make arrangements.”

Luna spread her wings halfway. “King Ursagryph, all our ambrosia is already spoken for. It is bought by hospitals and pharmacists and universities. Not only that, but the breezies make an agreement with all their trade partners not to export it. They like their monopoly, Andean. They aren’t going to give it up, and they will not appreciate a trade violation.”

Andean laid his head in his talons. “For once, Luna, can we not make this about politics?”

Luna opened her mouth. No words came out, replaced as they were by a tiny squeak. She tilted her head. “I-I am sorry?”

“Politics were designed as a structure. A skeleton to hold up the workings of a society. It was designed so that life would run smoothly.” He slammed a fist on the table, rattling the dishes. “What good are politics if they get in the way of what people need?”

“This isn’t just about politics, Andean.” Luna took a deliberate slurp of her soup. “It’s about honoring our word to the breezies.” She waved her spoon in a little dance through the air. “Celestia told me you hadn’t offered them iron. I’m sure they would appreciate access to something in relatively short supply in the rest of the w—”

“I’m not trading our iron!” Andean roared. He stood on his hind legs and propped himself on the table. His wings spread as his fur bristled.

Both the Royal Guards and the Blitzwings standing at the walls snapped to attention, spears and volleyguns at the ready.

Luna set her spoon in the bowl. It clinked loudly in the still room. “Corona, perhaps you should show your sister the Stained Glass Gallery.”

Stella had covered her head with her wings. She peered from between the feathers. “But I wanted to hear a story from you, Princess.”

“Do as she says, Stella,” Andean said. He sank into his seat with a deep huff. “There are things we need to discuss alone.”

Corona took Stella’s talon in hers and pulled her gently to the door. Natter bowed and led them down the halls, his throat bobbing.

Luna drew herself up. She sat in the perfect posture for a princess: Back straight, head up, forelegs together, tail beside her right hip, and wings folded at her sides. “Andean, why won’t you trade your iron? There is nowhere richer than Felaccia.”

Andean rubbed his eyes. When he met Luna’s gaze, they were pale and cold. His wrinkled face sagged as if it held a great weight. “You would do… anything to save your sister, correct?”

Luna tried to keep her face still. A faint twinge in her cheeks pulled her mouth down. “Aye.”

“Now the question is…” Andean Ursagryph tapped the fish bones on his plate. “Would you sacrifice your kingdom and everypony in it for your sister?”

“Wh—what? No!” Luna pushed her chair away from the table. Her ears lay back against her head. “I… I have a responsibility to—”

“As do I.” He ran his talons through his thick, feathery beard. “Terrible times are on the horizon, Luna. I feel it in my bones. I’ve seen it in my dreams. It’s not just my death that’s been prophesied anymore. A darkness engulfs the entire world. Swallows it whole. It’s cold and oppressing and smothering…”

A shiver ran from the tip of his bear’s tail to the point of his beak. “It’s evil, Luna. I find that word to be naïve and childish, but there is aught else to describe the presence I felt.” He clenched his fists, nearly drawing blood from his palms. “We need that iron for our defense. We need it for our war machines and our weapons. We need it to fortify our homes.”

Luna brought a hoof to her chest. She took a steadying breath. “Are not the dark times already here?”

Andean snarled. “You think it can’t get worse than a couple of princesses on bedrest?”

He shifted his massive frame. His rear claws scraped against the floor. “Sparkpowder, the fuel behind our volleyguns, was also a dead end with the breezies. It seems they have little desire for explosives. I have nothing they want. Nothing. Nothing!”

“I can’t help you, Andean,” Luna said. “Perhaps Celestia, in her infinite wisdom, could find a solution, but I can’t.”

“Then let me speak with Celestia,” he hissed. “Let me see her. Let her do her job and—”

“She’s in a coma.” Luna’s voice shook. “She’s in a coma, and hasn’t woken up since she was attacked.”

Andean stared in silence. Not a feather moved. Not a muscle twitched.

“I’m sorry.” Luna turned away. “I wish for all the world that I could simply give your people ambrosia, but—”

King Andean Ursagryph stood, sending his chair clattering to the floor. His talons left deep scars in the tabletop. “You’re a better liar than I thought.”

He swept out of the dining hall in a flurry of feathers. His Blitzwings followed close behind, joined with a small attachment of Royal Guards.

Luna’s voice cracked. “I will require a walk. I need to clear my head.”

The guards that remained stood in silence, their thoughts to themselves.

Luna licked her dry lips. “You are dismissed.”

She vanished in a cloud of blue embers. The guards filed out two-by-two, headed to other posts or the barracks.

One guard wasn’t supposed to be there. He took a scrap of paper from his side-pouch and held a pencil in his mouth. He wrote a few notes down and squirreled them away.

Though the golden armor enchanted his coat white and his mane blond, he was still noticeably individual within the ranks. He slid easily into the routine, a routine he’d been part of for years.

Nopony noticed that the guard wasn’t supposed to be there, because everypony knew his face.

***

Luna sparked into existence in the castle gardens, just beside the large oak tree. The leaves were completely gone from its branches. It was, for all intents and purposes, dead to the world.

“No,” Luna said. “It is not dead. Merely asleep.”

“Funny you should mention that.”

Luna whirled on the deep, forceful voice behind her. She let out a sigh and shook her head. “Shardscale, you startled me.”

“Wow. I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I snuck up on somebody.” Shard held a hand over her mouth as she coughed a deep, wet cough. She groaned and rubbed her scaly green chest. “Listen. We gotta talk.”

Luna brought her eyebrows low. “You are unwell, Chronicler?”

“Well, it’s not so much unwell as just…” Shard waggled a claw. “Yeah. Kinda unwell. For the most part okay, but...”

She pinched the bridge of her snout. “Look. I can’t stick around here anymore. I gotta get a move on.”

“I beg your pardon?” Luna’s tail flicked behind her. “No. No, you can’t leave now. Why would you? There are things you must record, things you must learn. You said you would help me!”

“I said I would help, yeah. But this is…” Shardscale wrapped herself in her leathery, flowing wings. “Luna, it’s getting cold. Autumn’s almost over. Winter comes next. I can’t stay for winter.” She touched a clawtip to her side, which glowed faintly. “My fire couldn’t handle it. My heart couldn’t handle it.”

“You’re abandoning her!” Luna shouted.

Shard flinched back. Tears sprung from the corners of her eyes, sizzling as they dripped down her cheeks. “That was uncalled for.”

“She’s still in danger, Shardscale.” Luna flared her wings. Shadows pooled around her legs. “How can you even think of leaving her alone?”

“Because my fire could go out!” Shard pushed against the ground and lifted her body. Her scales shone in the midday sun. “If I’m caught out in a snowstorm, the fire in my heart could die. Then I’d be in my hundred-year sleep two centuries too early and I’d be no help to anybody!”

Luna’s coat darkened a shade. “You would leave because you’re afraid of a little sleep?”

“I have a responsibility, too!” Shard bared her fangs. “Dragons still need to be informed. Equestria relies on me for outside news. If I go to sleep now, when I wake up all my friends will be dead!”

Luna gritted her teeth as her eyes glowed.

Shard sucked in a breath. She let the muscles in her arms slacken. “Well, I guess you of all ponies could understand that, couldn’t you?”

The shadows slipped away. The glow died down. Luna’s mane fizzled as her coat brightened. The rage left her face, leaving it hollow. “Go.”

Shardscale rubbed her upper arm. “Luna, I’m sorry.”

“Just. Go.”

Shard searched for a word, but came up empty. A heavy sigh escaped between her teeth. She spread her grand wings and gave a single flap. The wind howled past Luna as the dragon lifted into the air, hoisted by the force of her downward stroke. Shardscale soared through the clouds, becoming a green speck in seconds.

Luna’s chest tightened, threatening her with hyperventilation. She forced herself to breath at a normal rate. She clutched the sides of her head as the world swam before her. She leaned against the ancient oak with no memory of having stumbled over to it.

Her eyes fell on the Dream’s Keep.

“Celestia. Yes. I should go to comfort Celestia in her dreams.” Luna wiped away tears that had sprung unbidden to her face. “Don’t worry. I shall not abandon you. I’ll not leave you cold and alone.”

She spread her wings to fly to the tall tower. She swallowed a small lump in her throat as the black hair around her cutie mark tingled. “Yes. No need to worry. Remember, Luna, you’ll always have me as a friend.”

Author's Note

Foreshadowing comes in two flavors this chapter: In-your-face and tin-foil-hat.

Tailspin

Barren branches reached up to a cloudy sky. Among the tufts of white lay a gang of pegasi in light armor, lying low to stay out of the wind. They alternated between searching the sky for their target and keeping an eye on their commander. The Commander.

Her light blue coat and white tail nearly vanished against the pale cloudstuff. The only thing that stood out was the purple armor clasped across her back and chest. Her feathers shifted, letting the wingblades hidden within glimmer in the dying light.

Zephyr lay on the cloud beside her, wearing a similar set of armor. He grasped a long spear under his wing. “You’re sure they’re coming this way?”

“The message said as much,” she replied. “My contact is rarely wrong.”

Zephyr scratched his short, light-gray mane. “‘Rarely.’ I’ll have to remember that.”

Hurricane pointed with the tip of her wing. “When the airship passes beneath us, we shall leap from the cloud and circle around the envelope. First row breaks the windows, second row tosses the spears. Then we take out our assigned targets.”

Zephyr smirked. “Any last-minute pep talks?”

Hurricane glared at him out of her left eye, the one just above her painful scar. Zephyr held her gaze for a few seconds before buckling. “Okay, then,” he muttered.

A shrill whistle sounded from a nearby cloud. Hurricane turned her attention to a fellow pegasus, who pointed towards the south. Coming up over a mountain ridge was a sizable dirigible. The envelope was white with a red cross on the side. Hearts decorated the cabin below the balloon. Windows gave the passengers a full view of the surrounding skies and the land below, but not of what lay above. Hurricane held a wing aloft, signaling the troops to hold steady until the ship passed underneath the largest cloud.

When the chug of the steam engines grew loud in her ears, Commander Hurricane flapped the wing and sent herself into a dive. The gemstone on her breastplate glowed a bright blue as she picked up speed. The air around her shimmered, the armor protecting her with a thin magical shield. She hugged the fabric of the envelope, nearly touching it with the downbeats of her wingtips.

She twisted her wings to bring her back hooves against a pane of glass. A long, deep crack ran across its surface. She pulled back and bucked it again, her heart racing as adrenaline filled her veins. In the corners of her eyes she could see her teammates doing the same, while five spearponies hovered around the edge. The third buck sent her legs through, right into the chin of a dumbstruck guard.

A quick beat of her wings flung the glass shards at his face, where they bounced harmlessly off the shield provided by his golden armor. She wrapped her forelegs around his neck and threw the both of them to the floor.

With the two of them prone, Zephyr had a straight shot at the chest of another guard. The iron point broke through the enchanted barrier and embedded itself in the pony’s shoulder. Hurricane leaped up, grasped the rod in her mouth, and flipped over the guard’s back. The spear tore its way out of the shoulder as the victim landed painfully on her side.

Hurricane took the spear in her forelegs and spun it, catching the first guard in the back of the head. Zephyr landed inside the cabin and grappled with the guard, leaving Hurricane to her mission.

All around, the sounds of battle drowned out the chuff of the steam engines and the whistle of wind through broken windows. Hurricane marched with solemn purpose to the bridge, where no doubt Blueblood was waiting. After that, it would be a short matter to finish off the two princesses.

Hurricane set her jaw and stabbed the gut of one guard who was getting the upper hoof. A quick pull back, a sudden spin, and a sharp push out the window were the last anypony ever saw of that soldier.

The Commander pushed the door open with her shoulder and threw the spear across the room. In embedded itself next to the head of a unicorn stallion wearing a captain’s cap. He backed away from the ship’s wheel, a smile on his face but fear in his eyes.

Hurricane did not appreciate either expression. “Where is Blueblood?”

“He’s hiding. Somewhere in the ship.” His hoof reached somewhere out of sight. “You won’t find hi—”

A wingblade sang as it sliced through the air and into the pony’s leg. He screamed and fell to the side, his tendon severed. He lifted his other leg and pointed a small, hoof-held crossbow at her. The bolt was released quicker than she anticipated. The force pushed it past her light armor’s defenses and bit into her own leg. She took to the air, circled her wings, and caught the captain in a small whirlwind that ripped the weapon right out of his grasp.

His head bounced off of the wheel, sending the ship tilting to the side. Hurricane braced herself with three legs and picked up the sliding crossbow in her mouth. She hitched it to her leg and pointed it at the captain. “Speak! Where is Blueblood?”

“The crossbow isn’t loaded!” the captain snapped.

She slid the tip of her wing across his throat, just enough that a blade lightly nicked him. “I shan’t ask after the third time.”

He lunged at her, grasping her shoulders. They careened into the wheel and sent the ship rocking in the other direction. Their tumble ended with them leaning against the bridge’s viewing window. The captain struggled to hold her down, but his injured leg had lost all its strength. She pulled out of his grasp easily. She flicked a wing towards her, carrying the spear in a gust of pegasus magic. She raised it over her head and jammed it through the glass.

She scowled. “Perhaps thou shall scream the location as you fall.”

The integrity of the window failed. Their combined weight was the last straw, shattering it into thousands of glass shards. The captain fell down, down, down to the mountains below.

She set four hooves on the deck as Zephyr stumbled through the doorway. “Report, Lieutenant!”

“We’ve routed them, Commander!” Zephyr gasped. “They were prepared, but not for our numbers.”

“They thought me alone.” Hurricane shook her head and brushed past him. “What of the mission? Where are the princesses?”

“No sign of them, ma’am. Not anywhere in the airship.” Zephyr held a hoof over a wound in his upper leg. “I think we’ve been duped.”

Hurricane gripped the spear between her hooves. She snapped the rod with a flex of her forelegs. “Make certain there are no witnesses. We must fly before reinforcements come.”

“No witnesses, ma’am?” Zephyr gnawed on his lip. “You mean—”

“I mean slay what prisoners you have left.” Hurricane kept her voice a cold monotone. She stared out a broken window at the ground. “Art thou uncomfortable with the idea?”

Zephyr held his head high. “Begging your pardon, Commander, but I didn’t join the battle to become a murderer.”

Hurricane snorted hot breath through her nose. “Zephyr, thou have just assaulted a medical vessel ostensibly carrying royal passengers.” She picked up the sharp half of her shattered spear. “To be any more morally corrupt, thou would have to cross the street against a crossing guard’s orders.”

The spear-half whistled through the air. It embedded itself at the base of the ship’s wheel, severing the steering line. The airship rocked off-kilter and lost altitude.

“Leave the injured ponies on board, and they shall meet their fate on the ground.” Hurricane spread her wings. “Does that sate your conscience?”

The wind sucked her out the window before he could answer. He stood in place and doddered before the sight of the earth rushing up to meet him struck his thoughts. “Abandon ship! All pegasi, abandon ship!”

With no pilot to drive it, nor steering to guide it, the airship fell into a tailspin. It collapsed from its own weight when it impacted the deadwood forest. The steam engines exploded with a resounding report, severing the tail end and hurling it over the trees.

Zephyr’s throat bobbed as he hovered beside Hurricane. He dared to glance at her out of the corner of his eye. Her scar burned against her cheek, red and dry. Her ear twitched as she resisted the urge to scratch it.

“I have been a murderer for years, Zephyr,” she said. “After a while, the pain dulls.”

***

Some distance away, nearer to the Crystal Empire, another airship flew. This one was smaller, sleeker, and faster. It was completely enveloped in a cloud formation, obscuring it from above, below, and to the sides. There was a brief flash of blue as a pegasus mare flitted around the edges, straightening clouds and adding moisture as she saw fit. Satisfied, she slipped through the concealing fog and soared to the airship within.

It was a skiff of sorts; barely large enough for the soirées routinely held onboard. The envelope contained three sacks of helium. The basket held an opulent sleeping cabin, a wide viewing deck for passengers, and a proud gold-plated helm.

Blueblood himself attended the ship’s wheel. He turned his head to nod at the pegasus as she flew through an open entrance. “Wonderbolt on deck.”

Rainbow Dash ran a towel through her damp, multicolored mane. She let it hang around her shoulders and walked around the edge of the observation deck. It was crowded from stem to stern with soldiers. They stood at attention, maintained their armor, watched the clouds, or huddled over a table in the center of the room. One stallion in particular hovered over a radio operator, his muzzle scrunched.

“You’re sure they aren’t responding?” Skyhook asked the operator. “Maybe they’re just out of range, or maybe there’s weather interference.”

The operator shook her frizzy mane. “Sorry, sir. Hailing on all frequencies but ain’t come up with bupkis.”

Skyhook cursed several times beneath his breath. His leathery wings fidgeted against his flanks. “Let me know the instant something comes through.”

He paced across the floor and met Rainbow Dash beside a window. “How about you?” he said. “See anything unequivocally devious out there?”

“Assuming ‘unequivocally’ means the same thing as ‘really darn…’” Rainbow shrugged. “Nadda. Looks like blue skies ahead.”

Skyhook straightened his armor. His catlike eyes did a headcount of the ponies under his command. “Thanks for your help, by the way. I wasn’t sure you’d join up when Princess Luna recommended you for the mission.”

“You needed an expert in weather manipulation. I just so happened to be available.” Rainbow Dash leaned against the window with a smirk. The small smile left her face in a flash. “Besides, Twilight’s my friend. I ain’t gonna abandon her ever.”

She looked over her shoulder at the walled-off sleeping area. “Speaking of her, is it really as bad as they say?”

Skyhook’s feathery ears lay back against his head. “They haven’t let you see her?”

“No. Not from lack of trying, either.” Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes, gritting her teeth at the ponies around her. “Like they’re worried I’ll tell somepony. Me, of all ponies.”

Skyhook shook his head. “I wouldn’t take it personally.”

She clicked her tongue. “I take everything personally.”

“Commander Skyhook, sir,” an earth pony stallion said. “We just gorra faint message through th’ radio. You better ’ave a listen.”

“Thanks, Caution Tape.” Skyhook rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You’d better come along, Miss Dash. You might get more to do than push around clouds.”

Dash’s brow furrowed. “Sure. Whatever yah need.”

The three of them pushed through a small crowd that had gathered around the radio. Blueblood waited for them, having left the helm to another pony. He pressed the headphones to one ear, listening intently with a grimace on his face.

Skyhook leaned over the operator’s shoulder once more. “What are they saying?”

“It cut off a few seconds ago. I was able tah record it, though. That’s what Prince Blueblood’s listening to.” She fiddled with a couple knobs and gestured to the headset. “You need tah hear it, stat.”

Rainbow Dash rested her back against the table. She regarded Blueblood with lidded eyes as he passed the headphones to Skyhook. “You know, Bluey, this is probably the least drunk I’ve seen you.”

Blueblood sneered. “I had a rather sobering experience, I’m afraid, Lady Rainbow Dash. And I must say, this is the fewest explosions I’ve ever seen in your general vicinity.”

“Then find me something worth blowing up, Your Royalness.” Rainbow Dash chuckled as the prince seethed. She put her hooves on the radio’s table. “So what’s the sitch, Skyhook? What are they saying?”

“—under attack! All un—us out of he—too many of them! Wh—abandon ship—Mayday! Mayda—!”

Skyhook lowered the headphones, his face stony. “And there’s been silence since then?”

“One hundred-percent dark, sir.”

Skyhook reached over to the radio and flipped a lever, erasing the tape. He spoke slowly and carefully. “Blueblood, Rainbow Dash. Join me in the Princess’ chamber, please.”

Rainbow Dash stood up. “What did they—”

“Right now.” Skyhook spread his wings and flew to the back of the basket. “Hop to it!”

When the prince and the Wonderbolt had caught up to him, he swung the door open and shoved the two of them inside. “Nettle, you have the bridge!”

The radio operator jerked her head back. “But I ain’t a—”

The door slammed shut, cutting her off.

“I say, soldier!” Blueblood’s bloodshot eyes glared hot beams of anger at Skyhook. “This is behavior wholly unbecoming of—”

“The plan worked,” Skyhook breathed. “It worked in the worst possible way.”

Blueblood frowned. “If nothing else, the repulsive monster fell for the decoy.”

“She did.” Skyhook pulled his helmet off of his head. His armor’s enchantment faded, turning his gray coat and purple mane to slightly lighter shades. “She fell for it. She and her overwhelming force of troops.”

“Sacrepuce!” Blueblood covered his mouth. “Pardon my Fancy. This turns a rather grim situation a bit darker.”

“That’s a mild way to put it.” Skyhook rubbed his eyes. He rested his forelegs against his sides and let his chest deflate. “We got lucky.”

“Our secret will not keep.” Blueblood nibbled the inside of his cheek as he mulled over his thoughts. “The sudden reassignments, the empty airship docks… the mole will no doubt put two and two together. Do you suppose the Crystal Empire is truly out of reach?”

“I don’t know.” Skyhook looked to Rainbow Dash, who sat a meter away, her back turned to them. “You’ve been to the Crystal Empire, Miss Dash. Do you think it’s secure?”

He received no answer.

“Lady Dash,” Blueblood sniffed, “are you even listening to this highly-confidential, high-stakes conversation?”

“Assassin’s got buddies. Decoy got totaled. Empire’s a safe haven.” She stared straight ahead. Her voice came out in a low, tired crackle. “She’ll be safe in the Crystal Empire. You haven’t met Shining. He isn’t gonna let anything happen to his little sister. Never.”

Skyhook leaned around her to see what she was looking at. The sleeping area was the most comfortable room in the airship, and thus made the most sense as a medical facility. Two hospital beds were secured to the walls, in which were strapped two injured alicorn mares.

Celestia could have been sleeping, if not for the bandaged wrapped around her chest and the breathing mask tied to her face. Her chest rose and fell steadily, the only sign of life save for the slow beep of the heart monitor.

Twilight Sparkle twitched and wriggled. Her wings spasmed as her nurse hurried to give them room to move. A tube bypassed the wound in her throat to carry oxygen straight to her lungs. Her eyes fluttered open, a whine escaped her mouth, and she fell into a deep sleep at last.

Nurse Sweetheart looked at Dash, who stared back with a blank look. “She a bit past morphine right now,” the nurse said. “Keeping her unconscious is the only way to spare her pain.”

Rainbow Dash held still. Her tense muscles came loose when she turned away. “Cuss this. How long until we reach the Empire?”

“Two days, give or take,” Skyhook said. “Just in time for Nightmare Night.”

“Good.” Rainbow Dash’s eyes fell to the floor. “Good. Just hold on, Twi.”

“I know she will.” Blueblood clomped a hoof. “One does not become an alicorn by lying down and giving up.”

Rainbow laughed lightly. “You an expert?”

“Hardly.” Blueblood pulled a canteen of coffee from a shoulder bag. “But we both know what sort of mares lie in this room. The strongest.”

Skyhook clasped the chinstrap of his helmet. His coat shimmered as the active shields covered him from tail to nose. “Then let’s make sure these strong mares make it to safety.”

***

Discord flipped through his photo album. He stopped occasionally to watch one of the pictures move on its own. Each snapshot was a memory of his, a small copy of a moment in his life. And the lives of those around him.

Every few pages, he went back to the first one he’d looked up. It was a small picture, but no less important for the size. It was a fateful scene, the one where Twilight Sparkle gave up her magic, the very thing that she lived for, to save Discord. Him, of all creatures. Him specifically.

“All of my friends.”

His stomach churned. The world spun around him in a way that had little to do with the topsy-turvy windmill he called home. A headache pounded behind his eyes.

A damp cloth draped over his forehead, bringing an iota of relief. A gentle voice said, “Isn’t that better?”

“Thank you, Fluttershy.” He closed the book and rested it on his lap. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I do,” Fluttershy said with a giggle. “Just lean back in your easychair and rest. I’ll be by tomorrow to see how you’re doing.”

She slid a warm saddle over her middle and pulled a fuzz-topped knit cap over her ears. “I swear I don’t understand what’s wrong with you. I’ve tried every remedy I can think of. You’re sure you don’t want to go to the doctor?”

“I don’t think Doctor Cardio is familiar with draconequus physiology, no.”

“It’s just that the last time you were sick, you had to be isolated from the whole town.” Fluttershy hunched her shoulders. “You’re not contagious, are you? If you are, I need to find somepony to look after my little friends.”

“I am beyond surety.” Discord grinned, displaying his snaggletooth proudly. “You’re not gonna catch what I’ve got.”

Fluttershy’s face lit up with a smile. “Have a good night, Discord.”

“You, too,” he replied. “I’m feeling better already. I wish you’d been here yesterday, too.”

Fluttershy lowered her eyebrows. “But I was here yesterday.”

Discord coughed. He scratched his stringy goatee. “Of course you were. I mean the day before yesterday.”

Fluttershy’s lips parted before the breath stopped up in her lungs. She flapped her wings twice before finally finding the words to say. “I was here the day before yesterday, too.”

Discord’s ear twitched. He pulled a face and looked out a porthole that wasn’t there a moment ago. “Yes. I knew that. Silly me.”

Fluttershy lifted a hoof as if to take a step forward. “Discord… what’s really wrong with you?”

Discord squinted out the window. “Well, well, well, look who’s come to call.”

Fluttershy sighed. She took to the air to look through the porthole at his side. Her bright face paled a few shades. “Oh. My.”

The road from the town to Sweet Apple Acres branched off at several points, one of which led to Fluttershy’s cabin, another which turned to Discord’s windmill. Along this smooth dirt road trekked a crowd of ponies of every age, size, and tribe. At their head walked none other than Merry Mare herself, a megaphone resting in her saddlebags. The odd glint in her eye didn’t escape Fluttershy’s attention.

“What are they doing?” she asked.

“Oh, they come by every few days or so.” Discord coughed into a handkerchief. “They’re here to protest my inaction or some such horseapples.”

The mob assembled before the windmill, looking like they were only a few torches and pitchforks short of a lynching. Not a single face among them held less than an angry frown, save for the mare in charge. The former mayor smiled and hefted her megaphone.

“Discord! Are you going to show yourself tonight? Are you going to answer for your lack of action? Or are you going to hide away like a good draconequus? I’ll bet you enjoy the thought of the princesses being snuffed one by one! I’ll bet it warms your black little heart!”

She turned around, her gray mane bouncing in the autumn wind. “Why hasn’t he stepped in to help the princesses? Why isn’t he on the front lines to find the assassin? Why can’t he just wave his paw to make everything better?”

Discord snapped his fingers to make the porthole change into a radio. It played upbeat accordion music that almost drowned out the protestations. “You don’t have to listen to that, Fluttershy. Just go on home. They’ll get bored after a few minutes.”

Fluttershy didn’t answer. Instead, she dropped to the floor and walked to the front door.

“Wait, Fluttershy!” Discord leaned forward. His stomach immediately told him that was a bad idea. “Ugh. Just… use the back door!”

She flashed him a quick beam and stepped through. The door closed behind her with nary a word.

Merry Mare nodded as the crowd applauded against the dormant grass. “Why should we just sit back and suffer while this monster gets off scot free? It’s disgusting! All his power, all his abilities, and he doesn’t have thing to say about—”

“Excuse me.”

Merry Mare’s mouth scrunched shut. She blinked and turned her head to come face-too-face with a soft, fuzzy pegasus mare. Fluttershy lowered her head and looked up with big, wet eyes.

“Excuse me,” Fluttershy said, “but could you have your meeting somewhere else? My friend has a headache, and the loud noise is hurting him terribly so.”

Merry looked over her spectacles. “Young lady, this is an attempt to rectify injustices! The People of Ponyville have a right to know just why the most powerful creature in the Allied Kingdoms sits on his derriere and twiddles his thumbs while Equestria falls apart! It does not concern you—”

“It does.” Fluttershy lifted her head to meet Merry’s eyes. “My friends are my concern and Discord is my friend.”

She took the megaphone from Merry and spoke into the end. “Um. Is this thing—?”

A loud squeal rang out across the countryside.

Fluttershy rubbed her forehead beneath her cap. She shrugged at Merry.

Merry Mare rolled her eyes and pointed at a switch.

Fluttershy took a deep breath in. “Thank you. Now, I know all of you are frightened, but everypony is doing all that they can. You remember a few years back when Discord had the, um, was it the blue flu? Well, he’s sick again, and he can’t really do anything until he shakes that illness. He should be better soon with lots of care and rest—”

“I think we’ve heard enough from the Draconequus Apologist in the crowd today,” Merry growled under her breath. She reached over Fluttershy’s shoulder and snatched the megaphone away. “Don’t think we’ve forgotten about his past misdeeds! Discord still has much to answer for! Every moment he does not act is another moment to—”

“Stop.”

Fluttershy stretched a wingtip to flick the device off. She spoke quietly and forcefully. “We’ve all done things we regret, Merry Mare. Him included. It isn’t right to bring up another’s checkered past when your own has already been forgiven.”

Merry shook her head slowly and steadily. She pulled her spectacles from her nose and wiped them with the tip of her cravat. “I only brought these ponies here to show him the impact he’s already had on—”

“You’re bullying him.” Fluttershy’s left ear dipped down as her eyebrows came together. “I think we both know you’re better than that.”

Merry Mare clenched her jaw as the rest of her face hardened to a frightening scowl. Halfway into the expression, the tightness faded. She nodded sadly and looped a foreleg around Fluttershy’s shoulders. “You’re right as usual, of course, dear. I’m afraid the stress has gotten to us all.”

Fluttershy fluttered her wings. “I know I always feel better after I go home, snuggle up with my little friends, and have a nice, soothing cup of tea.” She looked out over the crowd. “I know you’ll feel much nicer if you do the same.”

Merry led Fluttershy through the gathered herd. The ponies parted like waves. “I do hope we see more of each other, Fluttershy. You’re always such a wonderful light in the darkness. I’m especially looking forward to the next Ponytones show.”

“It’s going to be a very special show.” Fluttershy giggled. “We’re introducing our newest member, Sweetie—”

“What in tarnation is goin’ on here?”

Applejack trotted up with Big McIntosh in tow. The cravat of her office lay loose against her neck. She tipped her hat to the gathered ponies. “Evenin’ folks. Ah got a complaint about a bunch of ponies disturbin’ the peace and thought ah’d check it out mahself.”

“Thank you for your time, Applejack,” Fluttershy said. “I can understand how somepony might not appreciate all this, but it turns out it was all just a big misunderstanding. Merry and these nice ponies were just going home.” Fluttershy’s eyes narrowed. “Weren’t you?”

Merry Mare turned her head and gave the ponies around her a slight nod. They dispersed almost immediately, each headed back to whatever they were doing before.

Once they were gone, Big Mac allowed the coiled muscles in his legs to relax.

Applejack gritted her teeth. “Can’t help a little pre-election season campaignin’, can yah, Merry?”

“I’ve always been a civic-minded individual, Applejack.” Merry stepped away from Fluttershy. She drew close enough to Applejack to feel her breath on the tip of her snout. “Much like you in many ways. I want to help however I can.”

Applejack pulled her hat low over her eyes. “An’ the first such thing that comes to mind is to gather up a mob and picket Discord’s house?”

“Something needs to be done.” Merry tilted her head back. “Somepony needs to step up.”

“Ah don’t suppose that somepony is you?” Applejack waved a hoof towards downtown. “Ah don’t suppose there’s somethin’ y’all can do aside from protestin’ and whatnot? Ain’t there somethin’ constructive you can do with yer time?”

“I am being constructive.” Merry walked around Applejack with slow, even steps. “It shouldn’t surprise you to know that I care about Ponyville. I’m just doing what I hope is the best thing.”

Applejack turned her head to follow her with her gaze. “You’ll wanna give that supreme plan of yours a second look-through. Y’ might find some issues.”

Merry tossed her mane. “We all have issues. Don’t we, Fluttershy?”

Fluttershy sucked her lips in and shrugged.

“In any case, I’d better be on my way.” Merry glanced up at Big Mac. “I don’t want to be tossed in jail for ‘disturbing the peace,’ do I?”

“Nope,” Big Mac said.

Merry gave them a noticeably fake grin. “Good night, Lord Mayor Applejack. Good night, everypony. Sweet dreams.”

Applejack waited until the former mayor was out of earshot before speaking up. “Somethin’ about that mare don’t sit right with me lately.”

Big Mac cleared his throat. “Could be th’ way she always seems like she’s ’bout three words away from incitin’ a riot.”

“Probably.” Applejack nuzzled Fluttershy. “Thanks for the help, Sugarcube. Looks like you had things handled before ah even arrived.”

Fluttershy’s knees knocked together as her eyes widened. “I need to hug a fuzzy bunny.”

“An’ yah can. Yer done bein’ brave fer tonight.” Applejack choked when Fluttershy wrapped her forelegs around her neck in a hasty embrace. “Ack! That don’t exactly mean—”

“Until I find a fuzzy bunny,” Fluttershy whimpered, “you’ll have to do.”

Applejack patted her friend on the side. “Big Mac an’ ah’ll walk you home. That sound nice?”

Fluttershy swallowed hard. She relaxed her grip enough that Applejack could walk beside her. The three of them set out across the dirt roads to the edge of town. The first stars were peaking out behind the trees before Fluttershy could speak again.

“There’s something wrong with Discord.”

Applejack snorted. “An’ what else is new?”

“Please stop,” Fluttershy whispered. “He’s going through enough without hurtful comments.”

Applejack flicked her tail. “Sorry. Force o’ habit.”

“I mean that he’s really, really sick and I can’t figure out what’s wrong.” Fluttershy rested her head on Applejack’s shoulder. “He’s having trouble eating and sleeping. He can’t remember what happened yesterday or the day before unless I remind him. I’m really worried, Applejack. He won’t tell me what’s wrong, and I can’t figure it out myself.”

Applejack tilted her chin up. “Well, only thing ah can think of is tah ask Twilight what she thinks…” Her eyes widened and turned glassy. She grimaced. “Soon as she gets better, that is.”

“Rainbow will make sure she’s okay.” Fluttershy allowed a lopsided smile to cover her face. “So will Shining and Cadenza. She’ll be better than ever when she gets home. I know it.”

“That’s the spirit, Sugarcube,” Applejack said. “That. Is. The. Spirit.”

***

Discord clenched his fist tight. Light shone from within, radiating from every part of his being. He opened his hand with a flash and watched as tendrils of magic came together to form a picture. It showed Fluttershy talking through the megaphone, speaking with the crowd on his behalf.

“My friends are my concern and Discord is my friend.”

A tear dripped from Discord’s eye as he stuck the moving picture onto a blank page in his photo album. He touched Fluttershy’s face with a gentle talon.

“I wish I could promise I’d never forget you, but I can’t.”

He snapped the book shut and threw it at a waiting bookshelf. He lay back and spent the rest of the night with a rolling stomach, an aching head, and a bitter sense of anticipation.

***

In the deepest of dreams, Luna beheld a land in ruins.

The Crystal Empire had collapsed from within, destroyed by its own rotten core. Homes were reduced to hovels. Streetlamps illuminated piles of rubble. Ponies were chained together in gangs, leading into the deep mines the city was built upon. They harvested magical gemstones in dangerous environments, where cave-ins were as commonplace as pickaxes. The palace no longer shone a brilliant blue that protected the city, but a dark purple that gleamed with solidified malice.

Celestia, now somewhere around nineteen years of age, stood beside her. Two damp tracks ran down her cheeks, giving evidence of the tears she’d suffered. Golden armor gleamed against her back and chest. Plates linked together to give her all the maneuverability that was possible. Purple fabric cushioned her coat and skin from the harsh metal. A pike rested against her shoulder, the blade covered with a strange oil that swallowed up light.

Everypony’s armor had been dimmed to keep them hidden from the city and its new king. The armies of Equestria had gathered a few miles outside the city. Luna suspected they had truly remained undetected due solely to Clover the Clever’s light-bending enchantment. Once a day, a pair of dark, red eyes appeared at the apex of the tower and surveyed the land. Every breath was held until it passed over their camp.

“By the light of the stars!” Commander Hurricane shouted. She stormed through the camp, stomping her hooves and flapping her wings furiously. “Where is that blasted wizard? He said he’d come!”

“We must have patience!” A tall, strong pegasus stallion scampered behind her. “If Starswirl said he would come, then so he will come!”

“We have been here three days and still there is no sign!” Hurricane slammed a hoof on a nearby table. It collapsed beneath the blow. “Our friends are in there, Pansy! Our families! Platinum and her children!”

“Can you imagine the disaster that might result if we attacked without the aid of the Elements?” Centurion Pansy said. “We have no idea the sort of magic Platinum’s son was dabbling with. If he can twist an entire kingdom beneath his hoof so easily—”

“Then we show him what the Elite Squadron can do against his humdrum black magic!” Hurricane shouted at the two alicorns on the ridge. “Celestia! Luna! Come!”

Celestia leapt to obey immediately. Luna hesitated. She looked down at her own set of armor, which would have been silvery if not for the suppressed sheen. She had fully enveloped herself in the dream this time. No more watching from the outside. No more attempts to redirect history. This time, if Celestia had to relive her life, so would Luna.

So a younger, shorter, skinnier Luna settled down before her commander. “Aye, ma’am?”

“Starswirl has not brought the Elements these three days.” Commander Hurricane took to the air to look them in the eye. “We must attack or the entire Empire could be lost. While Pansy, Clover and I draw their forces away from the square, you two will perform a direct strike at the tower. If Sombra falls, I have little doubt his conscripted army will soon follow.”

Celestia sucked in a breath.

Hurricane cast her gaze upon the alicorn, her scar blazing in the cold air. “Thou have something to say, warrior?”

Celestia stood at attention. “I fear that without the use of the Elements, the only alternative ending to a confrontation would be… his death.”

“He has proven himself a monster,” Hurricane spat. “I would like nothing less than to see him put to the sword. You have little reason to fear a battle without the aid of your magic trinkets.” Her face softened as a smile touched the corners of her mouth. She laid a hoof on Celestia’s cheek, followed by one on Luna’s. “You two are the most noble warriors I’ve ever had the honor of training. I have full confidence in you.”

The alicorn sisters bowed their heads. Luna followed up with a hoof to Celestia’s shoulder. The elder sister jerked her head up, her face uncertain. When Luna gave her a reassuring smile, she returned one just as bright.

“Now—now—now—now I don’t want to have to say ‘I told you so!’” An elderly earth pony stallion wobbled his way across the camp, one hoof raised. He only managed to stay on his hooves due to the help of an earthy pony mare to lean on. “You’ll—you’ll—you’ll be awfully embarrassed if Starswirl arrived after the battle is over and it turns out we could have avoided the whole mess!”

“Chancellor Puddinghead.” Pansy bent a knee. “Smart Cookie. I was hoping thou could reason with the commander.”

“That is as unlikely as it’s ever been.” Smart Cookie nudged Pansy in his ribs. She laughed. “Remember the caves? It took even the windigos twenty minutes to hold her!”

Pansy chuckled. “I’ll not forget those blessed caves, you needn’t be concerned.”

“I’m—I’m—I’m sure we’ll want to have one final meal together before the battle.” Puddinghead speared Hurricane with a scrutinizing eye. “You’ll—you’ll grant an old stallion his final meal, will you not?”

Hurricane rolled her eyes. “Aye. We must keep up our strength. We attack at dawn’s first light.” She cocked an eyebrow at Celestia. “That means on your mark, my warrior.”

Celestia saluted. “I shall not let you down, Commander!”

Luna also saluted, though she kept her eye focused on her fellow alicorn. “And I shall not let you down, my sister”

Author's Note

I love bookends, don't you?

Monstrosity

Care Carrot stood at attention at the bottom of the staircase. She frowned at the books all around her, searching for a hint of Hurricane’s handiwork. The cutie mark flashed before her as if it was burned into her mind: A circle of clouds swirling around an empty hole. The mare’s cold, grey eyes glared into hers as the pegasus pushed her over the edge of the opera house’s balcony.

“Captain Carrot,” Time Turner said, “are you alright?”

Care winced. She shook her head to banish the vision. “Yes. I’m fine.”

Time’s brown eyes traced their way up to her forehead. “Because your horn is smoldering.”

Care crossed her eyes. Smoke drifted off the tip of her glowing, bright orange horn. She extinguished the spell, bringing the color back down to the same pink as her eyes before it vanished completely. “Sorry.”

“I’m all for being ready for trouble, but a fire spell in a library might be a little…” He tilted his head towards her. “Unwise? Ill-advised? Disastrous?”

“I get the message.” Care smirked. She rubbed tired eyes and pulled a loose bang away from her mouth. “I guess… I just have a lot on my mind.”

Time shrugged his overcoat higher up on his back. “I’m familiar with how emotions can effect spell-casting. Are you sure you’re up for the job?”

“My emotions are in check,” she said, her voice clipped. “I just don’t appreciate sneaking around under the princesses’ nose.”

Time Turner took a clockwork contraption from one of his many pockets: a tiny box with a windup key on the back and a clock face decorating the front. “I’ve learned over the years that sometimes we have to work around the rules for the good of everypony.”

Care’s braid flicked over her shoulder as she spun her head around. “Rules are there to give us boundaries. They’re there to show us right from wrong and make sure everypony is treated the same.”

“Rules, in general, are there to convict us.” Time Turner’s brow furrowed. “If you don’t have rules based around that equality, you won’t get it.”

“Fine. Our rules, then.” Care rolled her eyes. She glanced up the stairs and bit down on her lip. “Rules that we’re breaking. Rules that we’ll be caught breaking if they don’t hurry their butts.”

The device in his hooves ticked as he wound the key. “Welcome to the life I thought I’d left behind.”

Daring Do trotted up, stuffing a final book into her saddlebags. Blankety Blank followed close behind with his own bags full. “Got the merch,” Daring said. “Time to blow this dusty popsicle stand.”

“There’s an idea I can get behind,” Care muttered. She turned around to lead the way to the surface. “I’ve had enough of this secrecy and skulking to last a lifetime.”

They took the steps two at a time. They were in such a hurry that they nearly bowled over the ponies coming down the stairs. Care yelped and jumped back when her head bumped against something soft and elastic. Time caught her, preventing her from losing her balance and tumbling backward.

Scuttlebutt stood near the top of the stairs, rubbing his head. After a moment passed, he remembered to say “Ow.” Behind him, three burly earth ponies and two strong pegasi held their breath, their eyes wide at the sudden appearance of the other group.

Scuttlebutt wiped his mouth and smiled a cheese-eating smile. “And just who might you ponies be?”

Daring Do pushed her way past Turner. “Researchers on an assignment from the crown. Got a few books that might be helpful for stuff.”

“Really?” Scuttlebutt chuckled lightly, motioning his brutes forward. “Well, we’re security guards. We’ll have to see your clearance passes.”

Blank whispered in Care’s ear, “He’s lying.”

Care gritted her teeth. “No, you think? Gimme a sec to think of…”

The device in Time Turner’s hooves ticked faster as he held it behind his back. He cleared his throat and spoke to all. “When the bubble appears, run.”

“Bubble?” Scuttlebutt tilted his head. “What bubb—?”

The device clattered on the steps at Scuttlebutt’s hooves. His mane stood on end as he scurried back into his minions. “Grenade! Get ba—!”

A pop and a flash obscured the six of them. An orb of magic swallowed them, sparking and fizzing. By the time the orb had stopped expanding, Scuttlebutt and his crew were frozen, unmoving and unresponsive.

Time Turner pushed ahead and pressed against the wall. He slid around the edge of the bubble. “Don’t touch it! Just keep running!”

Blank and Care launched into action immediately. They circled around opposite sides of the spell, their limbs shaking from a sudden surge of adrenaline.

Daring Do stared at the magic bubble, her mouth agape. She laughed and slapped her forehead. “‘Time.’ Duh. Wait up, guys!”

***

Scuttlebutt stared at nothing, frozen in a pocket of time. As the hoofsteps of the others retreated in the distance, the spell weakened. Cracks appeared around the creepy little pony’s legs, head, and tail. The bubble shattered, freeing the prisoners. “—ck! It’s going to… going to…”

Scuttlebutt snarled and slapped the nearest pony on the back of the head. “After them, idiots! Don’t let them get away!”

His five brutes hurried down the hallway, heading towards the main library building. Scuttlebutt scurried down the stairs and into the sealed archives. He overturned piles of books, ripped tomes from shelves, and flipped through various spellbooks in his search to find the Grimoire Alicorn. Fangs bit deep into his lower lips.

“Where is it?” he growled. “Where did those ridiculous princesses put—”

He stopped in his tracks, his brown mane waving limp around his face. He patted an empty spot on the shelf, where the dust had been recently disturbed. He tasted two stark flavors. The fire of rage and a hint of a most despised creature.

“The book was here,” he hissed. He giggled to himself as his body stretched a few inches taller. “They’re using changelings. Those magnificent wretches have a changeling. That’s how they found it.”

He galloped to the surface, saliva dripping from an open mouth. “That was their first mistake!”

***

Celestia burst through the heavy wooden doors that separated the rest of the castle from the dark dungeon. She held her pike at the ready, Luna at her side with horn aglow. Periwinkle peered around the elder sister’s flared wings. He whimpered at the dank, dark surroundings.

Water dripped from the ceiling in a perpetual beat. Dark corridors led to darker cells, their walls coated with chains and dilapidated bodies. Not a single breath of life could be felt.

Celestia peered around a corner. Finding it clear, she motioned her sister forward. She and Luna repeated the action as they made their way deeper into the dungeon, following a hum of deep magic. Deep and destructive.

They came to a large chamber where the crystal and stone walls had been removed to accommodate devices both mechanical and magical. Lights flickered on control panels. Data streams were printed on rolls of paper. Pumps channeled fresh air into three tubes full of yellow liquid.

Golden threads floated in the tubes. They spiraled and intertwined, all running from a central point. If Luna stood at a certain angle and looked at them in a certain way, the delicate lines formed vague pony shapes. One was an earth pony, with the strings clustered in its hooves. One was a pegasus with thin, rudimentary wings. The last tube held a unicorn, whose horn was approximated with a double helix of the shining threads.

“Sister,” Luna whispered, “what is this?”

“It is Sombra’s laboratory.” Clover the Clever appeared from behind a tube. She ran her hoof over its surface. “It is his life’s work. His ultimate goal. His magnum opus.” Her glowing magenta eyes turned towards the three other ponies. “We must destroy it.”

A cough sounded from a nearby cell. Periwinkle dove off of Celestia’s back and rushed to press his face against the bars. “Mother? Mother!”

Celestia and Luna stood by his side. Within the cell, an old unicorn mare lay on a dirty cot. She lifted tired eyes to her visitors. She gave them a weak, yet bright, smile. “Thank the stars you are here.”

Celestia gripped the iron door in a sunlit spell and ripped it from the wall. She tossed it to the side and allowed Periwinkle to wrap his mother in a desperate embrace.

“Queen Platinum.” Luna reached a wingtip out and touched the unicorn’s shoulder. “Can you walk? We must get you out of here.”

“Not until my son is stopped. H-he’s gone mad.” Platinum tested her balance on three hooves and held the fourth close to her body. She gave them a pleading glance. “I-I don’t know what I did wrong.”

“Ponies make their own choices, my queen,” Clover said. She waved the alicorn sisters into the laboratory. “Today, we see the consequences of those choices mete out.”

Platinum leaned heavily on Periwinkle as they exited the cell. “Sombra has not left any of the other prisoners alive. He’s used them all in his mad scheme. You… you can see the results.”

Celestia’s head snapped to the tubes. “You mean those are—”

“Fairy strings.” Clover trotted to a podium in the center of the room. A book sat upon it, open to a particular page. “The means by which magic flows from a pony’s heart to where it is needed.”

She placed a hoof over the image of an alicorn’s body, signed with Sombra’s sigil. “Organs specific to a certain type of pony. Save for the legendary alicorn, who holds all three.”

Luna sighed internally. She steeled herself for the inevitable even as she blustered towards the pegasus fairy strings. “Then we shall destroy these mockeries of science and see to it Sombra never su—”

Crystal spikes erupted from the ground at their feet. Celestia and Luna took to the air. Clover teleported away, the book in her hooves. Periwinkle and Platinum huddled against the wall, razor points mere inches from their face.

A deep, low chuckle struck their hearts with a reverberating, icy knife. The clang of iron-shod hooves meeting cold stone struck up a steady, four beat repeat. Bright red eyes—the whites a corrupt, sickly green—glared from the gloom, surrounded by a miasma of purple magic. A crowned face followed soon after. Chain mail covered the stallion’s chest. Armor lined with a fur cape draped over his shoulders. The horn, once handsome and tapered, was sharpened to a cruel crescent.

Celestia shouted a war cry and hurtled her pike at his head. A few feet from reaching his head, cracks ran along its length. The pike shattered in midair, magic pulling it apart from the inside out. Glistening shards littered the ground at his feet.

“Now, now, Celestia,” King Sombra said, “I think we’re a little beyond material weapons, don’t you?”

Celestia’s hooves cracked the stone floor when she landed. Luna met the ground with equal force, her face a snarling storm of fury.

Celestia ground her teeth together. “I think we’re a little beyond words, Usurper King.”

“Sombra the Usurper King has a nice ring to it.” Sombra stroked his thin, trimmed beard. He drew himself up to his full, impressive height. “But it cannot hold a candle to Sombra the Alicorn King.”

“A false dream of a foolish stallion,” Luna snapped. “You cannot possible hope to gain through science and witchcraft what was freely given through magic.”

“Freely given.” Sombra barked with laughter. “Freely given, you say? Was it freely given to you? Is that how you attained alicornhood? Is that what you really think?”

He shook his head as he paced before his machines. “Nothing worth having is easy to gain, sisters. Your powers, this kingdom, this life is won through force!”

He turned away from them to press a button. The tubes lit up, the bubbles of air churning the liquid to a fervor. Celestia lit her horn and took a step towards the mad unicorn.

The cell doors unlatched as one. Pony bodies—for all appearances mere lifeless corpses chained to the wall—stood up. They shambled out of their rooms and stalked towards Periwinkle and Platinum. The queen and the prince screamed and tripped over themselves in their hurry to reach the lab. They embraced each other and stared at the approaching wall of hunger.

Clover sparked into life between them. She raised a shield to keep their foes at bay. “Take heart! These are not true undead, but wights. They are easy enough to deal with.”

The wights stopped. One of them, a unicorn with a great deal of skull showing through its patchwork fur, grinned wide. Its body stretched and shifted. Its legs increased in diameter. Wings burst from its back. Its snout sharpened into a beak. The wight reared up as it took the form of an decayed griffon. It raked its claws across the shield, throwing its weight against Clover’s sheer willpower.

Luna turned to a tube, her horn glowing with icy magic. She aimed carefully at the center of the tube’s mass, intent to shatter it completely. She shut her eyes tight as a new memory flooded back to her mind.

Red lightning arced from Sombra’s horn. It caught Luna in the chest, wings, legs, anything it could reach. It bit through her armor and flung her against a sturdy tube, knocking the wind from her lungs. The pain increased as red magic poured into her body, burning her down to the blood vessels.

Celestia’s radiance sliced a gap in Sombra’s attack. She stepped in and met him blow for blow, holding his spells back. She took solid, meticulous steps forward, her jaw set and her eyes focused. Sombra reared back in surprise and cut off his magic. With one long leap, Celestia cleared the space between them and grasped his shoulders.

His rear hooves shifted to strengthen his stance. His muscles bulged as he pushed her back, one shaky step at a time. He bared his fangs in a predatory grin, while her jaw hung loose.

“You… you’re a unicorn!” Celestia strained and managed to push him back a step. “How did you—? I have the might of an earth pony!”

His horn sparked. Celestia grunted as fire tore at her wings. With her grip loosened, Sombra struck at her stomach. He wrapped his forelegs around her torso and lifted her. With the aid of his telekinesis, he flung her across the room.

“You think me stupid, Celestia dear? I’m deeply offended.” Sombra held a hoof to his chest. “I have been working towards this moment for years. Do you think I would not have attempted to improve myself through other means? Many times over? Earth pony magic was always the easiest to integrate into my subjects. No new anatomy required.”

Celestia sneered. “Thou art sick.”

“No, I am desperate and smart.” Sombra chuckled. “It’s quite the combination.”

Celestia launched herself at him. He vanished in a gout of fire and reappeared behind her. He struck with a bolt of red lightning, but she reflected it into the ceiling. She kicked out with her back legs, sending him head over tail across the room.

He crumpled into a heap at the foot of the unicorn tube, breathing deep and slow. He staggered to his hooves, unable to help favoring his left legs.

“You… can’t win, Celestia.” He laughed through his teeth. “This place is a time bomb, waiting to blow. Immortality awaits me!”

Celestia looked at the boiling tube. She narrowed her eyes and took a measured step back.

“You can’t imagine the knowledge and power that I wield.” Sombra’s eyes leaked dark power as his horn thundered with horrific magic. “You can’t withstand it! You can’t fathom it! With this magic, I shall truly be a god!”

The crystal at the top and bottom of the cylinder crackled. It shifted off of its base. Celestia let out a deep sigh. “Typical. A god without a prayer.”

Sombra pursed his lips. He looked up just in time to see the unicorn tube toppling over. He had time for one stunted scream before it fell at last.

Luna, who stood on the far side, gave it one final, mighty push. It crashed down on Sombra, flattening him with the sickening crunch of his crystalline body shattering. His horn, a rare intact fragment, spiraled across the floor and came to a rest at Celestia’s hooves.

Celestia blew a breath through her lips. “Good teamwork.”

“Next time, you take the blast and I’ll distract him.” Luna leaped through the laboratory and charged for Clover’s shield. “Quick! We must assist the queen!”

***

“Play it casual, guys.” Daring Do moved at a fast walk through the library, doing her best to smile pleasantly. “Just another group of researchers doing researchy things. Do dee do.”

The hair on Care Carrot’s neck bristled. “Oh yeah. Let’s just wander away while some creepy little dude gets his grubby little hooves over the sealed archives. What could go wrong?”

“Priorities,” Time Turner said. “We can’t stop Hurricane if we’re arrested for espionage.”

“Dear Creator! It’s almost as if it was a bad idea to come here!” Care tried and failed to keep her voice low. “If I had it my way—”

“We would still be at the tower, waiting for Luna to wake up.” Daring Do wrinkled her nose and looked over her shoulder. “Break eggs, make omelets. Now shaddup.”

“In any case, we should hurry.” Time Turner adjusted a knob on his right gauntlet. “The spell should be wearing off soon.”

“G-guys?” Blankety Blank tapped Care on the shoulder. He pulled away when she shot a fiery glare in his direction. “They’re already here.”

They turned as one. They had reached the center of the large room, halfway to the exit. They faced five ponies, each far larger and stronger than any one of them. The earth pony in the lead scuffed his foot against the tile floor. “Stop those ponies! Don’t let ’em escape!”

Time Turner gulped. “Well, drat.”

The three earth ponies charged while the two pegasi took to the air. Daring Do dropped her saddlebags with a devious smirk. She glanced to the left to see two bookshelves standing just the right distance from each other. “They’ll overtake us before we can reach the door. I’ll take the flyer to the left!”

Care’s mouth opened wide as the adventurer raced for the shelves. “We can’t stand and fight!” She slapped her forehead and hollered. “Everypony! Evacuate the library now!”

Daring jumped and pressed her four hooves against the side of the shelf. She pushed herself off, spreading her wings to gain a little altitude. She twisted in midair to bring her hooves against the opposite shelf. She bounded up, one hop at a time, until she was high above the library floor.

With a final mighty push, she launched herself at the approaching pegasi. One dove out of the way, but the other continued toward her with an odd expression on his tilted head.

She brought her hooves down on his back, right between the wings. She brought her hind legs up to kick him in the throat. He grunted and spiraled out of control. She locked her wings and settled into an easy glide, looping down with a wild grin tearing across her face.

Miss Decimal the librarian leaned over the counter, gazing up at the ceiling. “Excuse me! No roughhousing is tolerated in—”

She screeched and ducked as the hulking stallion crashed behind the counter, throwing up papers and snapping book carts in half. One glance from her confirmed that he was most definitely not getting up for the next few months.

Care snorted and lowered her head to meet the lead brute’s charge. The stallion thundered on, smiling in anticipation of completely flattening the unicorn mare. Just before his hooves met her skull, she dropped to her back. She twisted underneath him and let his pass overhead. She kicked out with all four legs, hitting as many sensitive spots as she could. He lost his balance and fell on his shoulder.

He scrambled to his hooves, and she leaped to her feet, ready for a tussle.

Blank scampered off with both his and Daring’s saddlebags. He charged for the main entrance, his ears perked and his senses tuned. Panic was setting in for the library patrons. The dank flavor was nearly overwhelming, but Blankety pushed through it. He focused on the excitement his teammates were feeling, an invigorating mixture of spice and savory muscle memory.

Mixed with a dose of annoyance from Care.

The two other earth ponies aimed their charge at Blank’s back. They snorted steam from their flared nostrils. Their hooves trampled dropped books as their chest batted chairs and tables away.

They didn’t even notice Time Turner off to the side, pulling a lever on his metal gauntlet.

A small hook shot out, stretching a thin chain across the aisle. The grappling hook latched onto the far wall to create a neck-high barrier. He yanked it tight and planted his hooves.

Two jerks pulled on the chain. The first stallion was hit right in his neck and flipped onto his back, carried by his own momentum. The second saw his partner fall and attempted to leap over the chain. He landed on his stomach with a deep grunt.

The lone pegasus stallion hovered over Daring Do as she landed. He pulled in his wings and went into a dive, his hooves aimed for her head. She looked up with a yelp and twisted away. She swung a nearby chair at the falling pony, which his head met with a solid wack.

He staggered to his hooves. He looked at her with crossed eyes. She waved at him, unable to repress a smirk. “Hi. Have a seat.”

She broke the chair over his head. He remained standing, his jaw loose, his footing unsteady.

She crossed her forelegs. “Look, I know it wasn’t the best quip in my arsenal, but it was at least worthy of unconsciousness.”

He swung a hoof at her, stumbling forward a few steps. She moved easily out of the way. “Whatever. Maybe it’s time you checked out.”

She jumped up and gripped his ears. On her way back to the ground, she slammed his face into a table covered in research notes. He slumped to his haunches at last, drool pooling on his cheek.

Daring dusted herself off and ran towards Time, a devil-may-care smile never leaving her face.

Decimal hid beneath the desk, mere inches away from the first unconscious pegasus. She reached up and switched on the intercom. “L-Loose Leaf? G-get the police. There’re ponies fighting in the library. I think—I think they’re trying to kill each other.”

***

Luna froze three wights with one spell. Celestia followed up with three well-placed flashes of sunlight, turning them to piles of ice shards. The other wights held back, giving the alicorn sisters and their wards ample room.

Celestia rose to her full, impressive height. “Creatures of the dark, if you surrender now and you shall be treated fairly. If you continue to fight, you shall be utterly destroyed.”

“Consider wisely,” Luna added. “Even your people could live peacefully alongside ponies if a true attempt was made.”

The wights cowered within the cells and squished against the walls. Their elastic bodies warped together and slid between bars in their attempt to stay away from the triumphant alicorns.

“Mercy, Your Majesties,” one hissed. “We were coerced.”

“Do not call me Majesty. I am not royalty.” Celestia spread her wings to shield Clover, Platinum, and Periwinkle from view. “Who would have the means to coerce such frightful creatures?”

The one who had spoken shifted shape into that of a strong and very much alive unicorn. One with a gray coat and a flowing black mane. “There are things far more frightening than we.”

“Truer words have not been spoken!”

Celestia turned around at the sound of Sombra’s booming voice. Black smoke filled the laboratory, centered around the spot where the unicorn king had fallen. Lightning burst forth, taking the shape of two red eyes in the mist. They were framed by green static and purple trails of shattered crystal, glaring straight into the hearts of the ponies before them.

“You were far too late,” Sombra hissed. “Though alicorn I may not be, I still have the power to annihilate you!”

Before Celestia could react, a spear of dark crystal shattered the floor on its way to her heart. Luna leaped forward, her forelegs outstretched. She was too far away to either throw her sister away or to intercept the impact. Her horn charged, but the spell was not yet ready.

The spear pierced deep into Platinum’s chest.

The breath caught in Celestia’s throat as the little unicorn queen stood between her and death. She caught Platinum before she could fall to the floor.

Sombra roared. A whirlwind of crystal shards tore between the ponies, knocking them aside, as he carried himself through the hallways and out of the dungeon. The wights scurried after him, leaving their prey unchallenged.

Sombra’s escape had knocked the hood from Clover’s face. The magenta glow around her eyes faded, replaced by dull grey. She pulled her reddish braid aside and patted the floor around her, searching for a point of reference. “What happened? Where are they? My Queen? Platinum, can you hear me?”

“M-Mother?” Periwinkle hugged Platinum’s head close to his chest. “M-Mother? Cl-Clover! Do something! Do something!”

Platinum’s eyes fluttered open. A dazed expression overtook her face. She breathed lightly. Haltingly. “Celestia?”

Luna brought the hood back up over Clover’s head. The magic spell returned, granting the mage sight. She looked at the wound for a moment, before turning her head away. “I-I’m sorry.”

“No!” Periwinkle cradled his mother close. “No, no, no, no…”

“Celestia?” Platinum gasped. “Celestia?”

“I’m here, Queen Platinum.” Celestia’s lips trembled. “I’m here. What do you need?”

Luna watched from behind Clover’s shoulder. Her eyes dripped tears as the scene unfolded from the depths of her memory. She wanted to say something, anything, to reassure her sister. She wanted to reach out and wrap her wings around her shoulders. She wanted to tell her that it would be alright.

But she hadn’t. She hadn’t done any of those things that day.

“I’m here,” Celestia choked. “I’m here.”

Platinum closed her eyes and let out a harsh breath. She summoned her last bastion of strength. “Take care of my son. Please take care of Perry.”

The life left her.

Celestia lowered the unicorn gently to the ground. She stood tall, her muscles tense. Her chest rose and fell in swift, hot breaths. She turned to the direction Sombra had taken.

“Celestia,” Clover whispered, “what are you—?”

“Take Periwinkle to safety,” Celestia said. “I will deal with Sombra.”

Luna went to her side. “We will deal with Sombra.”

Clover went to stand beside the weeping colt. She placed her hooves on his shoulders and nodded.

Celestia and Luna vanished in a burst of starlight.

***

Blankety paused with his hoof on the door handle. He was mere feet from escape. He could leave the others to finish with the attackers and meet up later. Preferably with Twilight Velvet in attendance.

The chill running down his spine held him back. In addition to the panic pervading the room and the excitement gripping his allies, there was a new scent. A dark, sinister scent that he’d only experienced a few times in his life.

Decay.

An impact to his side knocked him off his hooves and threw the saddlebags from his back. He was assailed with striking hooves, which only stopped when he lashed out with a rear hoof and connected with something that bent far too much. He opened his eyes to see the creepy little pony from the staircase grinning down at him.

“Never thought I’d see a changeling in good company with ponies,” Scuttlebutt hissed. “It’s an aberration. What are you? On assignment from Chrysalis? Deep cover in the Royal Guard? Or worse?” He leaned close to Blank’s face. “Have you actually gone native?”

Blank flipped himself back, bringing his rear hooves into Scuttlebutt’s face. He landed on all fours and shifted into a ready stance.

Scuttlebutts head lay at an unnatural angle, a deep hoofprint in his cheek. As Blank watched, the hoofprint filled out and his neck straightened. The cheese-eating grin returned in full force. “Very impressive.”

Blankety twirled, lashing out with three quick strikes that hit Scuttlebutt in the knee, chest, and nose. He stumbled back when he saw the knee bend backwards, the chest sink in, and the nose twist out of the way.

Scuttlebutt’s body righted itself. “Very, very impressive. You fight just like a pony. Where’s the ferocity? Where’s the emotional attack? Where are the flaming balls of fire from on high?”

Blank’s eyes flickered to the ponies engaged in combat only a few feet away.

Scuttlebutt nodded and placed a hoof on his lower lip. “I see. You can’t break cover just to deal with one measly little pony.” His grin stretched wider than his face as his jaw broke out of alignment. “How about a minotaur?”

Blankety Blank fell to his rump. He scurried backwards as Scuttlebutt’s body grew larger. The creepy pony’s hooves split into clawed fingers. His chest stretched and tore, revealing a gaping rib cage and a beating heart. Horns burst from his head as his eyes sunk into a dark void. A massive, undead Minotaur Lord stood over Blank, spittle flying from its mouth.

“H-holy horseapples!” Blank yelped. “Y-you’re—a wight?”

Scuttlebutt’s fist nearly crushed him. Green fire surrounded Blank’s body as his disguise melted away. The changeling climbed the walls with jagged, cloven hooves, the saddlebags tucked around its waist.

“Give me the book, and I’ll eat you quickly,” Scuttlebutt chuckled. His hind legs stretched as he followed the changeling up. “I’ll even send your husk back to your queen for proper disposal.”

The changeling gritted its teeth. It shoved away from the wall as its wings buzzed. It landed on the false minotaur’s shoulder and bit deep with hollowed fangs. Magic flowed from the wight to the changeling as one fed on the other.

Scuttlebutt howled and swatted the bug-like creature away. He slumped to his knees and growled through oversized teeth. “Devious. And a little annoying.”

The changeling cinched the straps of its bags tighter. It snarled. “S-stick around. I could do this all d-day.”

Scuttlebutt glanced out the door. “At least until the Guard arrives.”

The changeling’s face softened. It forced determination back into its eyes. “They won’t be here for me.”

“Of course not,” Scuttlebutt said. “You’ll be dead.”

***

Care circled around the pony, dealing one punch right after the other. Her opponent had no time to react before she attacked again. He could only use his hooves to shield his face and wait for the onslaught to end. Taking a chance, he lashed out with his hind legs. She ducked beneath them and wrapped her forelegs around them, throwing him off balance.

She jumped onto his back and boxed him on the sides of his head. He rolled to throw her off, but she kept her balance. She stood on his belly and socked him underneath his chin before jumping off.

Just as he was getting to his feet, Daring Do landed on his back, sending him crashing to the floor. She waved at Care as she passed. “Sorry, gotta go, Time needs me!”

Care shook her head and glowered at the pegasus. She wound up a punch, waited for the stallion to cover his face, and then kicked out with one rear leg. He wheezed, covering his stomach. She jerked forward with a quick head-butt. Her horn hit him square between his eyes. He crumpled to the floor, drops of blood spattering from his nose.

Care looked over the carnage and saw a huge, undead minotaur lumbering towards a specific changeling. A scream got strangled halfway out of her throat. Her hooves beat out a gallop as she rushed to hopefully end the mythical confrontation before word leaked to the rest of Equestria.

Time Turner lifted his chain to allow Care to run underneath it. He stared at the minotaur with wide eyes before returning to the task at hand. He flipped the lever on his gauntlet that allowed the chain to retract.

Nothing happened.

He furrowed his brow. He jiggled the switch, but there was no response from the device. He tried to pull the grappling hook from the wall, but it was stuck too deep. He swallowed a deep gulp.

One of the thugs regained his footing and grasped the chain. He tugged Time Turner closer, a wide grin splitting his face.

Daring Do leaped onto the brute’s back and wrapped her forelegs around his neck. The earth pony gasped and stumbled around, reaching up to throw her off. She laughed and squeezed tighter. “Ride ’em, Cowpony! Whoo!”

Time let his metal-coated hoof drop to the ground. “I think that mare is certifiably crazy.”

The other conscious earth pony loomed over Time Turner as he fiddled with his gauntlet. “Heavens, I thought I’d gotten all the bugs out of you. I think at least I tightened the tolerances enough. Or are they too tight? I could never figure out how large to make the hole in relation to the—Hold up.”

He lifted his left forehoof and pushed a button. The large stallion, his hooves poised to strike, halted in his tracks. The entire world slowed around Time Turner until he was the only moving object in the library. “Would you be a pal and wait a moment? I just have this doohickey to adjust and we can get with knocking each other’s brains out. Thank you.”

His eyes shot to Daring Do’s frozen face, her mouth a wide smile. The thug’s mouth was also wide, except in his case it was gasping for breath. Time shrugged and continued to work in the shadow of his attacker. “Such a strange mare indeed.”

At last, the grappling hook disengaged from the wall and returned to his gauntlet. He frowned at the large, brutish stallion. “Now then, can’t have you folding me in half, can we? No, we cannot.”

He sent two uppercuts into the stallion’s jaw, followed by five kicked to his midsection. He turned on his rear hooves and walked up to Daring Do’s opponent. He spun with a wide, sweeping kick and knocked the thug’s hooves out from beneath him. With one stallion reeling from a several blows in the space of less than a second, and the other on a collision course with the ground, Time deactivated his time stop.

Daring Do collapsed to the floor beside the stallion. She rolled away and flared her wings. “Whoa! Who taught him to walk?”

The other stallion let out a groan before crumbling into a pile of bruises.

Time Turner grasped her foreleg with the crook of his elbow. “Time waits for no mare, and that goes double for adventurers. Shall we slay a monster?”

Daring Do unbuttoned her shirt to what she considered the perfect height for both archeology and brawling. Her magenta eyes narrowed. “Huh, a wight. Haven’t fought one of those since my trip to Beefland.”

Time hurried her towards the beast, the odds and ends in his pockets clattering all the while. “Any advice on how to beat it?”

A shelf rattled as Scuttlebutt rammed his shoulder against it. Books fell in a jumble, nearly crushing Care in an avalanche.

Daring flapped a wing. “Got any ice handy?”

“Ah. No.”

She chewed her lip. “Then the best advice might actually be to run.”

***

Sheer cold trailed from Luna’s horn as she and her sister stalked down the hallway. Wights leaped out of every window, through every open door, and from behind every tapestry. A flick of her head was all it took to stall them in their tracks, secure in a block of ice. An explosion from Celestia’s horn finished them off, when it wasn’t scattering the monsters who had escaped Luna’s light.

The trail of scattered crystal shards led to the throne room. The doors were shut and barred by purple spikes. Wights awaited the sisters and met them with a surging attack. Celestia and Luna looked to each other. With a nod, they touched horns. A bubble of magic surrounded them, the sheer power blowing their vibrant manes against their bodies.

The wights skidded to a halt.

Compressed air blasted out in a sonic boom, knocking the wights heads over tails. The stained crystal windows shattered as one. The whirling storm outside, controlled by Hurricane and her troops, blew snow drifts into the Crystal Palace. Thunder crashed and the lightning illuminated the last doorway between them and Sombra.

Celestia forced it open with one mighty kick.

King Sombra stood in the center of the throne room, his crystalline body reformed. The room had reverted to its usual shining luster, warm light leaking from the blue throne. Tapestries on the wall depicted ponies from the lineage of the royal family, from Platinum, to her parents, and their parents, and so on.

Sombra stared at the image of his mother. His brow wrinkled ever so slightly. His mouth pulled downward at the corners. His glowing, hazy red eyes ran over the unicorn queen’s face. “I could have been a good king.”

“You’ll never get that chance!” Celestia seethed. “All you’ve built, all you’ve destroyed… it ends today.”

“No, actually,” Sombra said. “It doesn’t.”

A cage of jagged spikes surrounded Luna and Celestia, surrounding them on all sides with razor-sharp points. Sombra walked towards them at an easy pace. “When I was a boy, I grew up in the harsh, unforgiving environment of the Crystal Empire. Food from the earth ponies was a scarce commodity. Even the nobility starved to death on a regular basis.”

He met Celestia’s glare. “But we survived. We survived long enough to discover Equestria. A land of warm days and bountiful food. Fertile and plentiful. It was there we discovered the crystal heart and brought warmth to our kingdom. But still, Equestria was always the better land. Where the glorious sun fed the plants to their fill. Where animals frolicked in fields of beautiful flowers. Where a pony could make any life he desired to build.”

He turned away, his cape flowing around his legs. “I coveted that sun, I suppose.”

“So you sought to gain power for yourself?” Luna snarled. “To steal the sun for your own use? Away from the unicorns and earth ponies and pegasi?”

“Then did He teach the unicorns to harness the power of the sun and of the moon, and thus there was day and there was night.” Sombra tilted his head back and raised an eyebrow. “The Book of Origins. Chapter one. From the Canon. I believe you’ve read it. It says that the sun belongs to the unicorns alone.”

He smiled. “Until you two came along. Has not Celestia raised the sun on her own on one occasion?”

“It was… a special circumstance.” Celestia looked away. “I… will never do it ag—”

“It was always suspected that the alicorns of legend could lift the sun alone.” Sombra spread his forelegs wide. “And you proved the theory correct! All I must do is ascend, and I shall be the supreme ruler of the world!”

Luna knocked a crystal stalagmite aside. “You will always have us to stand against you!”

Sombra backed away as the sisters smashed free of their cage. “Again, no I won’t. Haven’t you wondered why I bothered to create mines beneath the surface of the city, rather than where the strains would be most plentiful?”

The sisters stopped. They turned their heads slowly to the mad unicorn. “Sombra,” Celestia said, “what have you done?”

“We stand atop the largest time bomb in history.” Sombra sat on the throne and smiled. “Laced throughout the mines are devices with the ability to quicken, slow, or stop time. If ignited, their energy would combine into a blast that would fling the entire city into the far reaches of the future. Attempt to stop me, and I will activate them.” He propped his chin on his hooves. “I can wait, my little ponies. How long can you wait?”

Author's Note

These chapters get longer every time I write them. I guess I'm done promising Starswirl will show up anytime soon. Expect him down the line, though.

Downfall

Luna shifted her wings when a sharp itch scratched her back. The edges of her vision swam as the dream took on a distant, foggy aura. The world faded except for Celestia and Sombra, who stood out stark against a dim world.

“Something’s wrong,” Celestia said. “This doesn’t make sense.”

She looked at her hooves, pain writing itself across her face. “A moment ago, Sombra was desperate to kill me. Now… he traps us? He gives me an ultimatum? His plans have changed. We’re winning. We can stop him, and he knows it!”

The world snapped back into focus. Celestia stormed towards Sombra, her voice low and raspy. “No more! No more, Usurper King! I’ll not be taken with your tricks and your schemes! We are here to end you!”

Sombra’s smile fell. His mouth twisted in a sharp-toothed scowl. “Call my bluff, will you?”

His horn fired a blast of pure malice into the floor. Veins of purple crystal snaked deep into the heart of the palace, through the base, past the bedrock foundation, and into the mines. The warm glow of magic could be felt throughout the entire city, spreading out under the houses and shops. A thundering, steady beat thrummed in their ears, the sound of a countdown.

“Then I see fit to call yours,” Sombra snarled. “You have the power to succeed? Then best me.”

Luna was toppled by the grasping arms of a horde of wights, tangling her legs and restraining her wings. She launched a concentrated pocket of cold, but a hand around her neck directed it to the ceiling. “Sister! Help!”

Celestia didn’t look back. She charged head-first at Sombra, driving her horn into his empty crystalline chest. She pressed forward, her legs pumping, until she had carried him to a window. With a powerful flap of her wings, she threw the both of them out into the storm.

***

Scuttlebutt’s hand crushed the ground inches from Care’s face. The unicorn spiraled out of the way, kicking and flipping to get herself clear of his reach. The wight hissed as the changeling’s teeth sunk into his shoulder from behind, once again sending him to his knees.

“It’s working!” Care shouted. “Can’t you bite him harder?”

The changeling snarled at Care, but didn’t dare release his hold. Scuttlebutt reached over his shoulder to snatch the changeling, but was restrained with a pink flow of magic. Care strained, sweat trickling down her forehead, as her magic fought against flesh and bone.

Scuttlebutt snarled. His neck elongated, stretching his head around until he was facing the small creature feeding on him. He opened his mouth wide to bare his oversized fangs.

He got a mouthful of Daring Do’s back hooves. The blow knocked his head back, sending it smacking against the floor.

The wight slacked. Every limb, every claw, every bone turned to jelly beneath his opponents. Care lost her grasp. The changeling’s teeth lost their purchase. Daring Do jumped away from the wriggling mass as fast as her aching wings would carry her. Once free, Scuttlebutt righted himself, reforming his body into that of the towering minotaur.

“Aw cuss,” Daring hissed.

“Give me the book and I’ll only snap your necks!” Scuttlebutt stretched his arm out to grasp the changeling’s saddlebags.

Time Turner skidded to a stop behind Scuttlebutt. He raised his right gauntlet and pointed it at Care. “Grab a hold!”

He fired the grappling hook, missing her by inches. She snapped her head to the side, her horn flaring. She looped the chain around her foreleg and raced to Scuttlebutt. She ran between his legs while Time Turner circled around, tangling the monster in a slip knot. They went in opposite directions, cinching their trap tight.

Scuttlebutt teetered, then tumbled. He let out a spine-tingling wail as he fell. His dark eyes widened when he spotted Daring below him, her rear legs poised to buck his chin.

A thundering crack sent his rubbery chin into the back of his mouth. He pulled it back into position, hot steam shooting from his nostrils. He slid his legs from the chains and hoisted himself upright. “I don’t think you quite understand what sort of horror you’ve brought on yourselves.”

Time pulled the lever on his gauntlet, returning the hook to its place. He shut one eye and took aim at Scuttlebutt’s head. The wight raised a claw to intercept the coming blast.

Time Turner pressed the button in his other device. The world froze around him, from his companions to his target. He shifted to the left, this time pointing the hook at the wight’s shoulder. A pulled lever released the pent up magic charge and sent the grappling hook flying. It moved slowly, as if floating through water.

Still, it flew true and embedded itself in the monster’s flesh. The time stop spell ceased with a chilling roar from Scuttlebutt, who grabbed his wound and stumbled. The sheer strength of the creature nearly pulled Time off of his hooves, but Care’s added weight was able to hold Scuttlebutt back.

Daring grasped the chain in her mouth and the three ponies pulled Scuttlebutt onto his side. The changeling snapped at his ankles while he was too distracted to respond. The wight tried to prop himself up on his claws and rear hooves, but sudden tugs on the chain kept him off balance. He scraped the tiled floor in frustration.

The sound of police klaxons reached their ears.

The changeling broke off the attack, a blaze of green fire changing his body into a small, white-coated earth pony stallion. “We gotta sc-scram!”

“Heck no!” Care Carrot tightened her grip. “We gotta stop the monster!”

“The police can deal with him, scoot!” Daring Do flipped the lever on Time’s grapple gun. The hook flew from the wight’s shoulder with a sucking thoop. “If you wanna get arrested, stick around!”

Care stood stock still as her partners in crime raced for the door and left the creature writhing. “It’s your cruddy fault we’re gonna get arrested in the first place!” She leaned into her run, stopping briefly to kick the wight in the face. “I hate you all!”

Scuttlebutt clenched his fists, reshaping them into hooves. His ribcage came back together, sealing his beating heart. His horns retracted and his eyes regained their yellowed brown color. A small, gaunt pony tiptoed away from the scene, before turning to putty and sliding between the books on a nearby shelf.

The team of ponies rushed out the doors. The longs steps to the library entrance ended near the street, where the property was marked with a row of hedges. Daring led them behind the brush, out of sight. “Come on, there’s a break around the left side.”

The wail of sirens reached their peak. Hooves tromped against the steps as police ponies swarmed into the library. Daring kept her ears low as she shuffled through the branches. “We gotta hurry,” she whispered. “They’ll be looking through the bushes soon enough.”

“They’re hedges, actually,” Time muttered.

“Shut up. Twilight Velvet’s their chief, and she’s just crafty enough to figure out where we went.” Daring’s nose twitched. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather not have to explain why I had to sneak into restricted archives to—”

A few meters in front of them, standing in the gap between the hedges Daring had mentioned, was Chief Twilight Velvet. She looked down at them, stuck a hoof into her duster coat, and grabbed her notepad. “Let’s see… Violent scuffle in the library, stolen books, evading arrest…” She smirked. “Yep. Looks like Daring Do got bored again.”

Care slapped Daring on the back of her head.

“Ow!” Daring glared at the unicorn. “What was that for?”

“For being right.”

Twilight Velvet took a step back, letting the group exit the hedges. “Well, this isn’t exactly the most ragtag team you’ve ever worked with, but it’s close.”

Daring scrambled to her feet and spread her wings. “Look, Velvet, I can explain. We were—”

“Blank already explained, thanks.” Velvet lifted a hoof, gesturing for them to follow her. “Now get over here before the others arrest you for real.”

Care turned to Blankety, her ears standing up. “You… you told her about this?”

He lowered his head. He quickened his pace to move away from her. “W-worked out, didn’t it?”

Twilight Velvet led them to the alley, where a police carriage had been tucked out of the way. Two stallions stood in the yokes, each raising an eyebrow as she opened the side door. “Pixel, Corky, take us out of here and make it quiet-like.”

The five of them squeezed into the carriage, leaving the scene of the crime far behind.

***

Falling ice beat at Celestia’s body as she tumbled in the wind. She had lost her hold on Sombra on the way down. Far above, the clouds churned and roiled, spiraling and swarming with the magic energy of Hurricane and her Elites. Celestia lit her horn, shining light on her surroundings, giving her the opportunity to right herself. She hovered in midair and swiveled her ears, searching for some hint of Sombra in the gale.

Red lightning hit her from above, seizing her muscles and sending her into a dive. Shadow enveloped her to blind her. Shards of crystal dug into her armor. Two red, rage-filled eyes bored into her, choking her with their purple miasma.

She launched pure sunlit into the core of the monstrosity. She looped around, shedding the buildup of crystal from her body. A beam of energy scorched the living shadow, eliciting a howl that was felt as thunder in her heart.

Sombra’s horned head burst from the cloud, its point seeking her stomach. She brought her hoof down atop it to smash it to shards. The shards jumped back up and sliced the straps holding the armor to her body. The wind did the rest of the work, stripping her of all protection. She grappled with Sombra’s strong forehooves as they jumped out of the mire. A headbutt drew blood from her forehead.

Her back hit the side of the Crystal Palace. Ice looped around her limbs and held her in place. Sombra stood on the wall beside her, his black mane flailing. “Here, Celestia! Your front-row seat to the fall of the Crystal Empire!”

“So finish it, monster!” Celestia roared. “Kill me and be done with it! Gut me as you did your mother!”

“Silence!” Sombra’s voice burst forth as an echoing shriek. “It was for you that she died!”

Sombra’s body shuddered. He defied gravity as he paced around her. “I won’t kill you. Not until it suits me. I would not want the beloved queen to sacrifice herself in vain, after all. No, instead you must face the consequences your actions have wrought. It is your fault the time bombs are active. Your defiance of my iron will.”

The steady thrum grew louder as he spoke. “Now, it begins.”

A distant snap rose above the storm. Light flashed at the edge of the city. Screams rose as the light grew brighter and the glow overtook ponies and buildings alike.

Celestia struggled with her bonds. “No! No, stop this! Stop this immediately!”

Sombra smiled. “I think that I shall conquer Equestria while I wait for the Empire to reappear. Yes. They could do with an immortal ruler. I shall wipe out the diamond dogs and that pitiful breezie tribe. I will root out the changelings and burn their kingdom to ashes. I will drive the buffalo from their lands. I will enslave the cattle and the donkeys.”

He turned to the distant glow that grew gradually closer. “But that is after I execute the founders for their crimes against me.”

“No!” Celestia’s horn flared in the darkness. She opened her shining white eyes. “Enough of this!”

The ice around her legs melted. Sombra covered his face, but was still blown back by the force of her spell. A beam shot through the clouds, parting the way to the blue sky above.

Sunlight struck the Crystal Palace. Sombra screamed as he was hurtled into the ground at the base of the palace. He struggled to stand, to cast a spell, to fight back.

A jagged lance of crystal caught Celestia in the wing. She tumbled down and landed beside the unicorn king. He roared, splitting his body into a cloud of darkness.

She lifted her head to the sky and grasped the sun. She brought it closer, dissolving the hurricane above, sending its controllers spiraling to the outskirts of the city. The power of the sun forced Sombra back, pressing him against the ground.

“I… am… nearly an alicorn!” Sombra took the shape of a pony, his fangs glaring in the sun. He gathered power to his horn, intent to burn a hole in Celestia’s chest. “I will live forever! I will reign forever! The sun shall bow to my will!”

“Never!” Luna teleported into existence behind him, her body covered in gashes and bite-marks. She fired an ice spell at his legs, freezing him in place. “What good is a ‘near’ alicorn against two true ones?”

“You aren’t true!” Sombra’s eyes glowed bright purple as he tore magic from his own black heart. “You’re as false as me!”

Luna shut her eyes, reached out, and found the moon. Her chest heaved as she guided it upward, over the west horizon. The eastern sunrise joined with her moonrise, the silvery light mingling with the golden. Sombra’s body cracked as magic hit him from every angle.

“No!” he yelled. “No it’s mine! It belongs to me! All of it! All of it!”

Luna’s eyes gleamed with overwhelming light. She met her sister’s gaze. They shared a nod.

The sun and moon met at the sky’s apex. The light from one joined the light of the other. A black circle surrounded by fire covered the Crystal Empire.

Sombra raised his head and looked directly at the first solar eclipse. He screamed as he was encased in an unbreakable prison of pure crystal. The ground split open beneath him from the sheer power, and he vanished into the depths.

Luna and Celestia collapsed against each other, breathing heavily. The moon vanished beneath the horizon, awaiting the unicorns who would bring the night. The sun settled back into place, shining light on the early morning.

Screams continued to pour from the far side of the city. A blue bubble of energy spread out from the underground, soon accompanied by others at different points of the city. Sparks burst as the spells touched, joining them together to form a larger enchantment.

“Celestia,” Luna said, “we have to go now.”

“Wh-what have I done?” Celestia choked back a sob. “What have I done?”

“Now, Celestia!” Luna grabbed her wing in her teeth. “It’s too late! Now!”

They flew as fast as their wings would take them. They outran the spell, watching as their army fled below in a full retreat.

Not everypony made it out of the city before it was swallowed up. The ponies could only watch as the entire city, the capitol of the empire, vanished into thin air.

Celestia landed on shaky legs. She stumbled up to the first pony she could find. “Clover! Did Clover make it out? Did she have Periwinkle with her?”

Luna lay down and nursed her wounds, imaginary though they were, while Celestia scrambled around. “Did you see her?” the elder sister asked. “Are they alright? Did they speak with you?”

Luna stood on aching limbs. The chill in the air intensified. The Crystal Heart was gone, vanished into the depths of time, and with it the warmth she always felt in the empire. Winter had returned to the north. Deep, unrelenting winter.

Celestia lifted her hooves, screaming at the top of her lungs. “Will nopony tell me they’re alright?”

“Celestia!” a voice from the sky snapped. “What just happened?”

Commander Hurricane landed, her hooves sending up clouds of snow. “You grabbed the sun and destroyed my storm! I demand an explanation! I demand to know why—”

“It was the only way to defeat Sombra!” Celestia stomped a hoof. “He had turned himself into a monster, and I did what I could!”

“You threw my soldiers into a confusion! Ponies could have died because of you!” Hurricane scratched the deep scar on her cheek. “Where is the Empire? What happened to it?”

“Sombra sent it hurtling through time.” Luna said, her voice quiet. “It is lost to us.”

Hurricane’s wings snapped out. Her jaw hung loose as her ears drooped. “Huh?”

“He laid time bombs beneath the city. An entire network. They flung the Empire into the future.” Celestia bowed her head. “He intended to conquer the city once again after we were dead and gone.”

Hurricane fell to her haunches. Her wings hung limp at her sides. “N-no. No, you lie. You must be wrong.”

Hurricane turned on the soldiers and citizens that had managed to escape. “Where is Clover? Has anypony seen Clover or Pansy? Smart Cookie? Puddinghead? Platinum?”

She bit her lip. “Are any of my friends alive?”

“Hurricane!” An earth pony mare galloped up to them, wearing the sash of a messenger pony. She skidded to a halt and snapped a salute. “Hurricane! Word from the south front!”

Hurricane jumped through the air to grasp the pony’s hooves. “What is it? What does Pansy say?”

The messenger turned her eyes downward. “Starswirl the Bearded just arrived with the Elements of Harmony, Commander. He wishes to speak with you.”

***

“Okay,” Daring Do said, “before we get into the messy business of not being arrested, can we just focus on the fact that Blankety Blank is a changeling?”

The carriage jolted. Time Turner bumped against Blank, but scooted back just as quickly. He felt Daring’s foreleg wrap around his, and decided not to protest.

“I mean, holy horseapples, a really real changeling!” Daring leaned over Time to get closer to Blank. “How long have you been a changeling? Just for reference.”

“Um.” Blank rubbed his hooves together. “S-since I was hatched?”

“Blankety’s been working for my force for the past seven years,” Twilight Velvet said. She sat beside Care in the rear-facing carriage seats, opposite the others. “There aren’t any cops who I trust more.”

Time pointed his chin to the front of the carriage. “And our drivers?”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “I trust them to keep this quiet until I’m out of town.”

Care Carrot had not taken her eyes off of the police chief since they’d all piled into the carriage. She fiddled with her braid, undoing it without really meaning to. She cleared her throat.

Velvet flicked an ear. “Can I help you with something, hun?”

“C-can I have your autograph?” Care squeaked out.

Twilight Velvet only just held herself back from rolling her eyes. She gave the guard a warm smile instead. “Later. Right now, we gotta get aboard the first train to Ponyville and lay low ’til the dust settles.”

“‘We’?” Time Turner sat up a little straighter as his brow wrinkled. “You’re coming with us?”

“Darn right I’m coming with you.” Velvet thumped her hoof on the armrest. “That freak put my daughter in the hospital and I’ll be cussed if I take that lying down. Whoever this Hurricane pony is, she’s gonna get a mouthful of broken teeth before we hand her over to Luna.”

Daring Do nodded quickly. She snuggled a wing behind Time’s back. “Then it’s banishment and imprisonment in the place she was banished to. I’m thinking either the moon or the sun. Maybe a comet, if we’re lucky.”

“Maybe a shallow grave in the side of a mountain,” Care muttered. “That works, too.”

Blank peered through his light blond bangs. “Yeah, well… due p-process and all th-that.”

“I won’t go out of my way to take her alive.” Care reached a hoof up to peel back the window curtain. “She’s a mad dog that needs to be put down.”

Velvet slapped her hoof away from the window. “Stop that. We’re being secretive in here. And cool your jets, soldier. This isn’t an assassination. This is a policing operation.”

Care frowned. “Even police carry lethal weapons.”

“As a last resort. We don’t exactly encourage it.” Velevet nudged Care in the chest. “It’s only acceptable when somebody’s life is on the line, and you know that. It’s only ever acceptable under those circumstances. Ever. Do you understand me?”

The carriage grew very quiet. Care shut her eyes and bowed her head. “Yes ma’am.”

“Besides,” Daring Do piped up, “there’s a whole mountain of paperwork you gotta go through. Totally not worth the effort.”

The carriage grew even quieter. Twilight Velvet slapped her forehead. “Daring—”

“What?” Daring shouted. When her only answer was a dark glare, she folded her wings and shrunk in on herself. “Freaking try to bring a little levity…”

Blank’s eyes flicked between Daring and Velvet. After a moment, he brought his saddlebags forward and opened them. “Th-this is what we got. A few d-day planners, a few strategy compilations, and a couple m-magic tomes.” He lifted the Grimoire Alicorn and showed her the cover. “W-we figure there ought to be a clue somewhere.”

“Wait, wait, wait, hold up!” Velvet snatched the book in her telekinesis and held it at arm’s length. “You went into the sealed archives to get information on the historical Hurricane?”

Time Turner leaned close as he unlatched his gauntlets. “Twilight Sparkle and Luna agree that there is a strong possibility that the assassin is indeed a time-travelling Founder. As ludicrous as it sounds, I’m beginning to believe them.”

Twilight Velvet eyed him carefully. She opened the book with a spark and scanned the contents. “Well, I can’t argue with the princesses, can I? What does the evidence—?”

She sighed. She held the page open, showing the sketch of Commander Hurricane’s fairy string layout. “Never mind. That’s a spitting image of her. Scar and all.” She scratched her chin. “They should have fired their sketch artist, though. He got the anatomy all wrong.”

Blank popped his head up. “W-what do you mean?”

“Look at the fairy strings.” Twilight Velvet pointed at the page, drawing her hoof across the wings. “She’s built just fine for a pegasus, but look at her legs. They’re too thick. It’s like they’re made for—”

“An earth pony,” Care said. Everybody turned to her. She rolled her shoulders and rested her forehooves on her knees. “It looks like a pretty rare genetic disorder where somepony is born one kind of pony, but they have the fairy strings for a whole different tribe. Usually it causes disability, but it looks like it didn’t in Hurricane’s case. She was lucky enough to get both.”

Time Turner flicked his tail. “Hold up. Have there been any reported cases of this happening? Getting two specializations?”

“Not naturally,” Twilight Velvet said. “There was one case in Ponyville where it was the result of corrective surgery, but no natural instances. Might just mean they went undiscovered.”

“Might not.” Daring Do grabbed the book out of the air. “The earth pony fairy strings would explain how she was able to physically overpower Twilight.”

“And why she was able to get back up after taking a beating like the one Twilie gave her.” Velvet scowled. “The more I shove my nose in this business, the more it stinks.”

The carriage rolled to a stop. One of the drivers knocked on the door. “Canterlot Train Station, Chief.”

“Thanks, Pixel.” Twilight Velvet slid out into the street, the others following close behind her. “My husband is a pretty good researcher and so is Spike. We’ll let them crack the books and see if they can find anything interesting.”

Care Carrot let her mane hang loose around her shoulders. She bumped her way through the crowd to the ticket booth. “And hope we find something before she finds us.”

***

Smart Cookie stood beside the elderly unicorn stallion, holding his hoof. She turned her eyes to the sky with a tearful smile. “Hurricane! Thou art well!”

Hurricane landed with Celestia and Luna behind her. She marched up to the stallion, raised a hoof, and punched him full in the face. “Where were you?” she shouted.

Smart Cookie reached down to help Starswirl to his feet. She growled at Hurricane. “How dare thou? He is here to help!”

Hurricane shoved her to the side. “Four days we waited, Starswirl! Four! You said you would come with the Elements of Harmony! We waited! And waited! And waited! And still you did not come!”

“I said not to attack the Empire until I arrived!” Starswirl’s voice rolled like a crashing wave. He wiped a trickle of blood from his nose and lifted a bag of gemstones in his magic. “I did bring them, Hurricane. I brought them as I said I would.”

“You brought them too late, Starswirl!” Hurricane flapped her wings to bring her head above the stallion’s. “The Crystal Empire is gone because of you!”

“I came as quickly as I could,” Starswirl said. “The path north is fraught with perils. Monsters. Mountains. Ponies in need of a wizard’s aid.” His aged face wrinkled. “If only you had waited.”

“Waited!” Hurricane pushed his shoulders. “Waited! I had to act! The people were suffering! Platinum was dying!”

“Platinum is dead.” Clover the Clever shuffled her way across the snow and ice, her cloak ragged. Periwinkle stayed close by her side. “And the people are gone.”

Hurricane fell from the air. She lay on the ground, staring at Clover with blank eyes.

“No!” Celestia said. “No, we have the Elements! Surely we can undo Sombra’s spell!”

Starswirl pulled his pointy, belled hat from his head. “Celestia, there are some curses that even…”

Celestia kneeled before the old stallion. She fixed him with a hopeful, sincere gaze. “Starswirl, teacher, let me try.”

Starswirl turned away, but he gave her a nod.

Luna pulled the Elements from the bag one by one. They were as beautiful as they had ever been, six shining colors, six perfect facets. Her magic hold mingled with Celestia’s as they gripped them together. Celestia swallowed hard. “It has to work. It must.”

A warm glow spread out from their hearts, extending until they touched the jewels. The Elements spiraled around them, their colors meshing together into one rainbow of light. They let the spell build, let the fires of friendship charge, until at last it reached its limit. They released the magic towards the empty mountain range that had once been the Crystal Empire.

There was an explosion of rainbows in the sky, the glimmer of an aurora, and then nothing.

The stones dropped at Celestia’s feet. “It’s gone,” she said, her voice nothing more than a whine. “It’s all gone.”

“This is all your fault!” Hurricane charged at Starswirl. She was held at bay by a telekinetic spell around her white tail. “You were late! You should have been here! You should have been here!”

“It’s our fault!” Smart Cookie snapped. She jumped up and grabbed Hurricane by her middle. “We went ahead with the plan, even knowing we should have waited! Do not cast your blame on the one who wasn’t even here!”

“He should have been here!” Hurricane screamed. “He should have—”

Clover cast a sleeping spell over Hurricane’s head. The pegasus shook her head as her eyelids dipped low. “He—he should have…” She fell to her knees, using every last bit of strength she possessed to send seething rage Starswirl’s way. “I swear,” she whispered, “I will kill you if it takes my last breath.”

Her face fell into the snow. Clover gathered her up and set her on Smart Cookie’s back. Though her face was not visible beneath the hood of her cloak, Clover’s glowing eyes glistened with tears. Periwinkle pressed against her side, his tears having reached a brief pause.

Starswirl bowed his head to Periwinkle. “’Twill fall to you, my prince. Once you are of age, you shall become king of the unicorns.”

Periwinkle took a step back. Clover placed a comforting hoof on his shoulder. “B-but what if I’m not ready?”

“We will be there to help you,” Clover said. She gave Hurricane a brief glance. “All of us.”

Luna huffed, much as she had all those years ago. She spun on her rear hooves to leave, following her memories carefully.

She stopped. In the corner of her eyes, she saw Celestia, standing alone, her wings slacked and her eyes pouring tears.

Luna’s heart broke. She flew to Celestia’s side, wrapping her wings around her sister. “Shh. It shall be alright. It will all turn out for good. Please, do not—”

“Leave me alone,” Celestia whispered.

The breath caught in Luna’s chest. The words died on their way to her lips. “What?”

“Please, just leave me alone!” Celestia wailed. She pushed away from Luna, turning her back on her sister. “I don’t wish to speak with you! I don’t wish to speak with anypony! Just leave! Leave!”

The prickling sensation returned on Luna’s back, this time centering around her cutie marks. Her eyes widened as she shuffled backwards. “Celestia—sister, I just wanted to help—”

“Go away!” Celestia covered her head with her wings and fled into a nearby tent.

Luna’s eye twitched. She forced a shuddering breath into her lungs. Her hoof absently pawed the ground. “T-Twilight. Twilight is also in a coma. P-perhaps I should visit her. Give—give my sister an opportunity to… collect herself. Yes. T-to calm herself.”

She spread her wings, willing her eyes to remain dry. Forcing the lump in her throat to stay down. Her horn flared white as she called upon her dreamhopping prowess. “I’ll return. Later. Later.”

As she removed her presence from Celestia’s dream, she never chanced to look at the black hairs making their way across her back.

***

Dulcimer looked at the setting sun as it jerked haphazardly below the horizon. He scratched his goatee. He glanced at his clock.

He smiled as a familiar set of hooves stepped into his room. “Ah, Scuttlebutt, I trust you were…”

Scuttlebutt stood before him. The creepy little pony’s shoulder was heavily bandaged. His eyes were sunken. His mane was slacked before his face. His knees knocked as if they were made of rubber. Which, Dulcimer suspected, was partially true.

“Successful,” the pink-coated unicorn finished.

Scuttlebutt took a step into the room, but stopped to lean against the doorframe. “I was… slightly less than successful, sir.”

Dulcimer’s face lost any trace of expression. “Were you seen?”

“There was a confrontation.” Scuttlebutt sucked in a breath.

“Anypony who could trace you to me?”

“N—There was one who is friends with Twilight Velvet—”

“Scuttlebutt.” Dulcimer sat in a cushy chair and crossed his forelegs. “I need you to disappear.”

Scuttlebutt gritted his teeth. “But sir—”

“I can’t have you compromising the situation, Scuttlebutt.” Dulcimer leaned back and took a sip of coffee. “I’m too close to my goals to have any more setbacks.”

“But—I can still help!” Scuttlebutt took an off-balance step into the room. “They have the book you wanted. I can get it back.”

“Hurricane can get it back.” Dulcimer let a small smirk make its way to his face. “And also clean up the mess you’ve made. All in all, I have it well in hand.”

Scuttlebutt winced as pain spiked through his shoulder. “But sir—”

“Leave before I have to call the police on you.” Dulcimer stirred a sugar packet into his brew. “It’s much easier for everypony if you were never here.”

Scuttlebutt’s mouth fell open. He bared his teeth with a ready retort. He paused. Dulcimer had said Hurricane would clean it up?

His face softened as it fell into an easy, cheese-eating grin. “Well, then I suppose I won’t keep you. Will there be anything else?”

“I’ll send for you when I believe the danger has passed.” Dulcimer waved a hoof. “It probably won’t be more than a year. Take care of yourself.”

Scuttlebutt scurried out the door. “I intend to.”

Author's Note

Fuel for the speculating fire!

Split

Spike leafed through the pages of one of Twilight’s manuscripts: An unfinished novel called Fire in the Mountain. He chuckled and set the book aside. “She really should think about publishing this stuff.”

Night Light’s horn flashed as he levitated a stack of books onto a nearby shelf. “Fifteen years ago, I never would have thought I’d see my studious, no-nonsense daughter writing fiction. Reading it, of course, but writing it?”

Spike spun the loose-leaf binder between his fingers. “Soon as she gets back, I’m gonna bug her until she sends it to her publisher. Life’s too short, you know?”

His reply came in the form of a snort from behind a shelf. Night stuck his head around the corner, a smirk on his face. “She’ll counter than she’s an immortal alicorn and you’re an undying dragon.”

Spike grunted, pushing a table back into place with his tail. “Fine. Other people’s lives are too short.”

Night Light trotted up to Spike. He was a good deal shorter than the dragon, with thin legs and a narrow jaw. His high cheekbones would have evidenced severity if he hadn’t been smiling most of the time. He reached his hoof up and squeezed Spike’s shoulder. “It will work out, Spike. So many ponies are all working together to make sure of that.”

Spike nodded. He rubbed his eyes and surveyed the castle library. “That’s the last time I let Aunt Yearling study unmonitored.”

“She does have a very active researching style,” Night muttered. He gathered up a cloud of loose pages. “She drove Velvet crazy when they served together. The armor was never polished enough, the spears were never sharp enough, and the bedroll was never tight enough. I think the instant she left the service she vowed never to clean up after herself again.”

“No wonder she needed Mom as an editor if her whole life is this disorganized.”

“Not quite. She seems to take very good care of any artifacts she finds.”

Spike pressed his lips together. “People are funny, Dad.”

“You don’t have to tell me.” Night Light flicked an ear toward the back of the room. “You hear something?”

Spike’s filmy ears spread, catching a faint and familiar vibration. He craned his neck around to face the centerpiece of the library. It was a tall mirror, hooked up to various gizmos and doodads that recorded magic flow, continuously tested connections, and spat forth data. Atop the mirror was a hefty book. The red cover shook and the pages glowed with magic as somebody at the other end of the link wrote a message.

Spike reached up and took the book. It opened to a blank page, but it didn’t remain blank for long. Ink scrawled across the page, forming words and sentences quickly and surely.

Hi Spike,

Just checking to see how Twilight’s doing. We’re awfully worried about her. When is she expected to arrive in the Crystal Empire? Please keep us posted.

Sincerely,
Sunset Shimmer

P.S. Pinkie says to tell your Pinkie to hurry up and get married. She wants to see her kids as cute pony babies.

Night Light read over his shoulder. “The connection with the mirror world is still going strong, huh?”

“Yup. No issues to report. Looks like Starswirl built this mirror a tad sturdier than the others.” Spike took a pencil and scratched a quick reply, speaking it aloud. “Hi, Sunset. She’s still hurt, but the doctors in the Crystal Empire should be able to figure something out. She’s supposed to arrive tomorrow. Just in time for Nightmare Night, I guess. I’ll let you know about any changes. Sincerely, Spike.”

After a thought, he added: “You know Pinkie told you she’ll get married when the right pony comes along and not a second sooner. She says this will be her answer forever so forget it.”

An answer came through almost instantly. Spoilsports.

Night Light chuckled. He scanned a few book spines for their location on the shelves. “Speaking of Nightmare Night, what are your plans?”

“Twilight was gonna dress up as Clover the Clever, and I was gonna be this castle.” Spike grimaced, his shoulders slumping. “I figured I’d hang out on the front steps and hand out candy to the trick-or-treaters.”

Night frowned. He gave the dragon a slow nod. “I don’t suppose there’s room on the steps for a castle and a djinni?”

Spike couldn’t keep down the sudden snicker. “For you, Dad, there’s always room.”

The fire in Spike’s heart flared up. He covered his mouth in surprise, but couldn’t contain the belch that shot forth. Green smoke swirled around the room until it collected together into a scroll, sealed with the mark of a trio of stars. Spike sliced the wax with a clawtip and unrolled the message.

“It’s Mom. She says… she says she’s on her way, and she’s gonna bring company.” Spike tilted his head. “And that’s it. Weird. Looks like she wrote it in a hurry.”

“Brace yourself, Spike.” Night Light pulled the corner of his mouth up. “Your mother’s gone on another adventure.”

Spike snorted smoke. He gave the message a once-over. “Who do you think she means by ‘company?’”

***

Blankety Blank leaned his head against the window, listening to the clackity-clack of the train tracks. A hollow pit gnawed at his stomach and accompanied the prickly feeling in his fangs. He shut his eyes and groaned, clutching his belly.

His ears perked up at the thump of hooves on the wood floor. He turned his pink eyes to his visitor. “Hi.”

Care Carrot carried a tray in her telekinesis. She set it on the seat beside him and took the bench across the aisle. “I brought you some ginger ale. You look ready to throw up.”

He picked up the cup and pressed it against his warm forehead. “T-thanks.”

Care rested her hooves in her lap. She furrowed her brow as she thought of what to say. “Is it because you fed off that… thing?”

Blank took a small sip. “Some magic d-doesn’t digest right.”

Care tilted her head. “Makes sense.” She scratched the base of her horn, just beneath her bangs. “I… wanted to apologize.”

Blank swished his drink. “For what?”

“F-for harassing you all this time.” Care played with a lock of her mane, turning her eyes towards him. “I… At the party. At Twilight’s castle. Everywhere from Ponyville to Canterlot. It wasn’t right. You were just doing your job.”

“So were you.” Blank turned an ear towards her. He looked out the window and watched the mountainside fly past. “A d-darn good job, too.”

Care flushed, her mouth pulled down. She turned away with a grumble. “Yeah, well… Not always.”

Blank sniffed the air. There it was again. Care’s lingering, pungent guilt. “Celestia once told me that s-secrets were precious. Precious… b-but not always good.” Another sip of the sparkling liquid ran down his throat. “Y-you wanna talk about it?”

“Not… really.” She jerked her head, swishing her loose green mane. “Drink your soda.”

Blank cradled his cup between his forehooves. “I mean, it’s not your fault Celestia—”

“You don’t know that.” Care’s voice grew low. An aura of firmness, like the crust of stale bread, surrounded her. “Hurricane plunged the spear into her heart. But I let her.”

Blank winced. His stomach swirled before he managed to forcibly calm it down. “I… I don’t believe you m-meant to let her.”

“She was right there.” Care hit a weak hoof against her cushion. “She had already knocked down Caution Tape. She stood there with a spear in her hooves and shouted a speech about usurpers. I had plenty of time to fry her with a spell, or grab the spear, or just jump in front of her. But I didn’t.”

She rubbed her face with a hoof. “Celestia almost died because I didn’t do my job. My one job. The one thing I do that really matters.”

Blankety’s eyes stung. He covered it up with a hefty gulp that made his head swim.

“I’ve seen her make an entire room full of angry creatures sit down and shut up. She stopped weapons in midair, Blank.” Care tipped over to lie across the bench. “But the one time she needed me, I failed her.”

Blankety Blank set his empty glass to the side. He blew a soft breath between his lips. “Y-you thought she was invincible, too, huh?”

Care flicked an ear. “You’re the one who said nopony’s invincible.”

“That was in hindsight,” Blank said. “Hindsight is th-that huge, invisible monster. There to remind you of wh-what you could have done to prevent it. Th-there to make every d-detail crystal-clear. T-to showcase your every fault.”

His tail swished lackadaisically behind him, moving without direct thought as he stared numbly outside. “I th-thought she was invincible until Chief Velvet called me back to C-Canterlot. That w-was when I heard the news. I’ve been wrong be-before, but I didn’t want to be wrong about that. She’s… She means a lot to me.”

Care’s muzzle wrinkled. “It’s my fault.”

“I-I think Celestia would say it wasn’t.” Blank flicked his eyes towards her. “E-even if it was, sh-she’d say to get right back up and… and keep moving forward. D-don’t let them hit you wh-while you’re down.”

They sat in silence for a while, just rocking with the motion of the train. Care sat up and stretched her legs. She took a deep breath.

“How’d you meet Celestia?” she asked.

Blank’s eyebrows shot up. He tilted his head and nibbled his lip. “I… I was k-kicked out of my hive. I tried to hide in Equestria, b-but… I wasn’t too good with disguising on the fly.”

“So I’ve gathered,” Care said. “You’re still the same-old you even when you’re serving royalty.”

Blank gave her a smirk. “Yeah, well… A changeling can’t survive long in Equestria if they can’t hide. I was found in some family’s barn and taken away by Royal G-Guards. Stayed cooped up in the dungeons for a couple d-days.”

His smile faded. “Then Celestia visited me. She spoke with me for hours. Talked about me, about ponies, ab-about the kingdom… It was l-like we just talked about whatever came to mind. She did that for a few weeks. J-just talked with me.”

Care furrowed her brow. “Seeing if you could be trusted?”

“M-maybe.” He studied his hooves and let out a calming sigh. “I th-think she might have… been trying to see if I could be a friend.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve always f-figured that’s how she kept sane. Surrounding herself w-with friends.”

Care rested her chin on her forelegs. She nodded silently.

“I…” Blankety pressed his lips together. “After a while, sh-she asked me if I wanted to m-make Equestria my home. She—she made me the Knight of Secrets, and told me that I would know when a secret needed to be kept. I think—” He bobbed his head towards Care. “I think she would want you to know these secrets. She w-would want you to take strength from them. T-to know that you’re not alone. I want to help Celestia, too.”

Care lay quietly for a while, pondering his words. Blank could taste her thoughts waver between sticky-sweet acceptance and the sour tang of refusal.

Care settled on a mix between the two. “Thanks,” she said in a flat voice. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

“I-I have been meaning to ask…” Blank cleared his throat. “Wh-when you picked me out of the crowd—at the m-masquerade—h-how did you know it was me? We’d only j-just met.”

She pushed herself up, her limbs feeling like they were lifting the weight of two sets of armor. She cast a weary gaze to the disguised changeling. “You stood out to me, I guess. Your mannerisms and voice. You’re a very distinct individual.” She let her head droop. “It helped that… that it was easier to talk with a total stranger than my own cousin.”

Blankety swallowed. “You had a falling out?”

“Not with her specifically.” She scratched her ear. “I haven’t seen any of them in a long time.”

Blank looked out the window, his eyes half-closing. His deep frown came from his heart. “That m-must be hard, being separated from y-your family.”

“It’s not.” Care turned to look out the opposite window. “Getting away was the easy part.”

Blankety Blank’s head swiveled around. He gaped at her with lowered eyebrows. “W-why? Why would you…?”

Care snorted, shaking her head. “What does a unicorn soldier have in common with one of the largest earth pony farming families in Equestria?” She rubbed her eyes and avoided Blank’s gaze. “It was just easier to not visit or write. And it got easier as time went on.”

“Y-you could still try t-to mend things.” Blankety reached a hoof out. “Y-you could start to visit again, or write more often, or—”

“That’d just be awkward for everyone.” Care chuckled without a smile. “No. We see each other on Hearth’s Warming. Exchange gifts on birthdays. We’re still family. We still love each other.”

“S-speaking as a changeling,” Blank said, “that would starve me.”

“Who asked you?” Care snapped. She forced her shoulders to relax and let out a defeated breath. “Why are we even talking about this?”

Blank wrung his forehooves. “I-if you hold things inside, the pressure builds until it blows. It’s easier to t-talk to s-somepony.”

He stood up and walked to Care’s side of the train. He sat across from her and fidgeted with his tail. “Changelings see things differently. W-we don’t just look at the outside. We can… taste what other ponies feel. We can sense p-pent up p-pressure. I see cracks forming on you, C-Care. When those cracks b-break, y-you and the ponies close to you will g-get hurt.”

Care gave him a dim look. “Do all changelings think of themselves as psychiatrists?”

Blank’s ears folded back. “Can’t I t-tell you this as a f-friend?”

Care’s lips became a thin line. “We’re not friends, Blank. Allies, yeah. Comrades in arms, sure. A team, most likely. But not friends. I don’t know you and you don’t know me.”

She got to her hooves and walked towards the end of the train car. “And right now, I’m fine with things staying that way.”

Blankety gritted his teeth. He yelped as she opened the door. “Killing Hurric-cane won’t make you feel b-better about yourself!”

Care slammed the door with a deafening crack.

Blankety cupped his head in his forelegs with a groan. “That p-probably wasn’t the right thing to say.”

***

Princess Luna collapsed to the floor of the Dream’s Keep, the sun having been sent to its resting place beneath the horizon. She heaved in breath after breath, fighting her heart for energy. Dreamwalking took a great deal of magic energy. To view the unconscious mind was no small feat, and after days of living within Celestia’s dream, Luna felt exhausted in her body and soul.

To have to lower the sun on top of that?

A plate was by her side, holding a loaf of bread, a slice of cheese, and a glass of water. She considered leaving it, but the rumble in her stomach banished that thought. She snarfed down the bare-bones meal and guzzled the water. She noted that when all the troubles with the assassin were over, she would need to thank Natter heartily.

The bell hanging in the dome of the ceiling jingled. The mirrors around the room twinkled in the starlight. Faded images of ponies, griffons, diamond dogs, and many other Equestrian citizens flashed through the smooth surfaces. Children were especially prevalent early in the evening, at least the obedient ones who went straight to bed without complaint.

The saints, Celestia had once called them. The blessed souls who were just as eager to see their dreams as Luna was to keep them safe. She smiled to herself as she regarded one dream through the haze of distance. A mountain of ice cream, a sudden snowball fight, a foal laughing themselves through the night.

It was beautiful, she decided.

She washed the last of her bread down with the final drop of water. She had also decided that they could wait. Twilight Sparkle needed a friend more than anything. Luna would merely step into her dream and spend some quality time with her. It would refresh them both.

“Tomorrow’s sunrise shall see you safely into the Crystal Empire,” she said to the northern sky.

She lit her horn, let her eyes shut, and leaped into the realm of dreams. She hovered over the earth, searching the people below for any sign of the young alicorn of Ponyville. A glimmer caught her attention, warm and familiar. She reached out for that spark, that sense of unity and friendship that held so much together, and touched it.

She opened her eyes to see a vast library, dwarfing even the Crystal Empire’s massive storehouse of knowledge. Two shelves stretched into infinity, overflowing with tomes and encyclopedias. They rose to the vaulted ceiling, and were dotted with long ladders to reach the highest shelves.

Behind Luna, the shelves were empty, their books cast to the floor. Piles of crumpled paper notes were tossed here and there alongside empty ink bottles.

A little purple unicorn rifled through the pages of one particular book. She growled when she reached the end. “Ugh! No! Not this one either! Spike! Spike!”

She sighed. She let the book drop to the floor. “I need you.”

Luna was careful not to crush any books underhoof as she made her way to the unicorn. “Perhaps I can be of assistance, Twilight.”

Twilight blinked bleary eyes. “Luna? Is that you?” She jumped up and wrapped her forelegs around the alicorn. “It is you! You’re here! This is perfect!”

Luna blinked back tears. “It is good to hear your voice, my friend.”

Twilight grabbed her hoof and dragged her over to a shelf. “Come on! I need your help to research this Hurricane pony. She’s way more dangerous than we thought. We need to find her and find out why she’s doing this before she hurts you!”

“Twilight, I—” Luna allowed herself to be led by the hoof, but pulled her head back uncertainly. “I do not wish to speak of the mare. I came so that I might spend some time with you.”

“I’m searching so that we can have more time in the future.” Twilight scrambled up the closest ladder. Luna followed her up with swift wing beats. “Right now, if we don’t stop the assassin, she could end up destroying Equestria as we know it.”

She pulled out a book and began to read. “By the way, did you know Commander Hurricane founded Cloudsdale? I learned that in magic kindergarten almost twenty years ago, believe it or not.”

“Of course, I was there when it happened.” Luna flapped a few feet away. “Does this mean that these books are all your memories?”

“Darn right.” Twilight tossed the book atop the others and pulled out a hefty tome marked Public Embarrassment: 996-1003. “Ick. My teenage years.”

As Twilight perused the tome for clues, Luna rubbed a hoof across her foreleg. “Would you mind taking a break? I feel… I would very much like to simply relax. To talk. I’ve missed you.”

Twilight threw the volume aside with disdain. “Sorry, Luna, but this is important. If we wanna be ready to ambush Hurricane at the masquerade, we need to know everything about her!”

Luna’s wings failed her. She was only just able to hold them steady enough to glide safely to the ground. “The masquerade?”

“Yeah, you know? You’re the bait; Applejack distracts Andean; me, Daring, and Care jump her when she attacks; the whole works.” Twilight pulled three books off the shelf at once. “That’s tonight, right?”

“Twilight,” Luna said, “you are aware that you’re dreaming, correct?”

“Of course I’m not dreaming.” Twilight waved a page. “You can’t read in a dream.”

“That’s actually a falsehood perpetuated by…” Luna shook her sparkling mane. “Never mind. Twilight, the masquerade has come and gone.”

“No.” Twilight wrinkled her forehead. She shook her head back and forth. “No! I would remember if it had. I would have been there. I would have helped!”

“You tried, Twilight.” Luna’s chest tightened. “Oh, Creator, you tried so hard. You were late arriving to the party.”

“No!” Twilight climbed higher up the ladder. “No, I’ll be at the party tonight. Don’t worry.”

Luna followed her up with quick downbeats. “You were ambushed on the way by Hurricane herself. She hurt you, Twilight.”

“I would remember!” Twilight gestured at the library, extending into the distance. “I remember everything! I would know if I had gotten hurt. No, stop distracting me. I need to help Luna. I need to help Celestia.”

“You can help me right now by just being a friend.” Luna touched Twilight’s shoulder. “Please. Just one glass of tea. That’s all I ask.”

Twilight slid out from under her hoof and scampered upward. “I can’t rest while there’s still a problem.”

Luna sucked a breath through her teeth. “The problem will still be there when we’re done, Twilight!”

Twilight reached through the rungs for a small book. “This isn’t just a problem! This is about the kingdom! This is about my friends!”

Luna fluttered to the floor. She sat amid towering piles of discarded books. Blue feathers drifted through the air. “You will always have problems. But you won’t always have your friends.”

Twilight opened the tiny cover. The inside held a picture. It was her and her friends, all gathered together in a group hug in Ponyville’s town square. She sat quietly on the ladder, sniffing occasionally. She wiped a tear. “M-maybe not.”

She rested her chin on the shelf. “It doesn’t mean I can’t fight for them.”

She turned an ear downward at a faint tingle of magic. She chewed on the end of her mane. “Maybe you could help me? We could search together and… and…”

She looked down to find herself alone in the library. She turned around on the ladder, searching for any sign of the alicorn princess. “Luna? Luna?”

Her weak voice was almost swallowed up by the uncountable books. “Are you there?”

A little purple unicorn crawled down the ladder and sat among her overflowing mountains of knowledge. She pawed at the marble floor under her hooves. “I miss you, too.”

***

Daring Do stood before the massive doors of Ponyville’s palace, tapping her hoof as quickly and quietly as she could. She cast half a glance at the mare by her side. Care’s orange coat stood on end. She pointedly stood as far away from Blank as was possible. Blank, too, stood on the far side of the crystal steps, keeping Time Turner between himself and the rest of the ponies.

Daring snorted. She hoped that whatever drama had invaded their gang would sort itself out. Her ears perked up as Twilight Velvet pounded a hoof against the crystalline door.

“They really ought to install a doorbell,” Velvet grunted. “It’s been almost a decade.”

The corner of Time Turner’s mouth quirked. “Does one call an electrician or a jeweler to install a doorbell in a crystal palace?”

“Crazy part is that they don’t even need one.” Daring took a step forward and smacked a hoof against the door. It rang out loud and long. “You can hear a knock on the door throughout the entire castle. It’s like it all resonates on the same frequency.”

Time muttered to himself and tapped the smooth, purple surface. “Strange magic, but useful.”

Daring stared at the night sky while they waited for an answer. It was dark, devoid of a moon. The stars still sparkled in their assigned places, though. She picked out one constellation in particular and winked at it. It winked back in return.

She slid her wing over Time’s back. “You guys take it easy. Time and I’ll take the books to the library. We’ll set up for tomorrow’s study session.”

Velvet narrowed her eyes. She gave Daring a moment of scrutiny before nodding. “You’ll still be joining us for supper? Spike’s no slouch in the kitchen. He’s using my grandma’s lasagna recipe.”

“Huh? Oh, sure. Sure.” Daring licked her lips. “Spinach lasagna with alfredo sauce, right? Sweet.”

“I’ll come,” Care said.

“S-same,” Blank mumbled.

The door creaked open. Night Light’s narrow face poked through, wearing a bright smile. “Hello, dear.”

Velvet gave him a peck on the lips. “Nighty. You gonna leave us out in the cold or are you gonna invite us in?”

Night peeked past her. “Huh. It’d be a full house if it wasn’t a castle.”

“Warmth now, jokes later.”

They filed into the entryway. Time Turner took the bulging saddlebags from Blank, while Care and Night made their way to the throne room. Before Daring could set out for the library, Velvet dragged her aside.

“Hay! Watch the hooves!” Daring spread her aching wings to brush Velvet away. “What gives, Chief?”

“You’re doing it again,” Twilight Velvet said.

Daring Do scrunched her muzzle. She flicked an ear. “Going on an adventure?”

Velvet shut her eyes. “That’s not what I mean.”

“Eating lasagna?”

“No, I mean about Time Turner.” Velevet ran a hoof over her tightly-wound mane. “Daring, I think you’re making a mistake.”

Daring sat down. She crossed her forelegs and watched the others move down the hallway. “Really? I’ll have you know that I like having him around. Seems like he likes having me around, too. We could be pretty great friends.”

“Yeah.” Twilight Velvet shook her head. She rested a hoof on Daring’s shoulder. “But how many of your ‘friendships’ have lasted, Daring?”

Daring rolled her eyes with a bitter-tinged chuckle. “Not all of us are built for thirty-six-year marriages, Vel.”

“It’s not even about that.” Velvet pulled Daring to her hooves. “Just… go easy on him. Take it slow this time. Get to know each other before—”

“Look, I appreciate the concern.” Daring smirked. “But I got this. Trust me.”

“I do trust you. With most things, at least.” Twilight Velvet clenched her jaw. “Just be careful.”

“Hay,” Daring Do said, walking backwards down the hall, “it’s me.”

“That’s reassuring.” Twilight Velvet trotted deeper into the castle.

***

Time Turner set the bags on a table, letting books spill out the top. “I vote we arrange them by weight, because those were killing my back.”

“Naw, it’s easy.” Daring Do jumped on top of the table and spread the volumes out. She selected one, gave it a cursory scan, and tossed it to the far end of the table. “That pile’s for things written by Hurricane herself”—she tossed another book to the neighboring table—“and that one’s for everything else. Let’s get cracking.”

“Simple enough.” Time flipped past the cover of a small, black book. “Is this her penmanship?”

Daring drew up to his side, pressing her shoulder against his. “Hmm… Nah. Not swirly enough. She makes the Os kinda look like clouds.” She took another book from the pile. “See? She’ll have that little hurricane in the corner, too. Her cutie mark signature.”

Time grimaced and set it in its respective pile. “It should come as no surprise that I am untrained in this particular art.”

“Then consider this lesson one.” She tucked the book under a wing and saluted him. “I’ll learn you book reading or my name isn’t Daring Do!”

Time Turner glanced at another tome and tossed it into what he hoped was the proper place. “To millions of adoring fans, it actually isn’t.”

She shrugged. “What do they know? A.K. Yearling’s as good a penname as any.”

“Alright.” He tilted his head. “Why a penname at all, though? Doesn’t seem like you’re exactly shy about being the author.”

Daring Do shut her book quietly. She gave Time her wryest smile. “Publishers don’t appreciate obvious self-inserts, and Celestia didn’t want them published as autobiographies. Something about ongoing investigations and national security and all that.”

She sat down and reached over her shoulder to grab another book to be categorized. “Amber was my mom’s name. Kestrel was my dad. They called me their little yearling. Kinda wanted to remember them, you know?”

Time frowned as realization flashed in his eyes. He dipped his head. “I’m sorry.”

“No big. Happened a long time ago.” She rubbed her chin. “Even before you were born, if my guess is right. You said you were thirty-five?”

Time blushed. “Last I checked.”

“Yeah, right around there.” Daring Do smiled. “I had family to take care of me, though. I turned out alright. None the worse for wear.” She lowered a brow at a book he’d tossed in the “Written by Hurricane” pile. It was the Grimoire Alicorn. She pulled a face and moved it to the other spot. “Not quite, dude. This stuff looks more like hornwriting to me.”

He pulled off his duster coat and hung it on a chair. He set his grappling gauntlet on the table. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not get in your way.”

“Suit yourself.” Daring laughed to herself. “So long as I get to see more of those cool gizmos in action next time we get into a fight.”

“You might not see much of this one,” he replied. He unscrewed the bronze-colored bolts that held it together. “It keeps jamming up. It either won’t retract the hook or it won’t come off of my hoof.”

“Rough.” She ran her hooves through her mane, making sure it was just the right amount of tousled. She walked up to his side, her wing extended just enough to brush against his back. “Y’know, we could find another way to pass the time ’til supper.”

Time Turner pushed his goggles onto his forehead. He dropped the screwdriver onto the small mess of springs and bearings on the table. “What do you mean?”

She leaned against him, bringing her lips to his. She slipped a foreleg around his back and flicked her tail around his.

She pulled softly away from the kiss. “There. Wasn’t that nice?”

He stared at her, eyes wide and jaw gaping. His throat constricted as he tried to force words out. “I-I-I-I-I beg your p-pardon.”

“Now you’re starting to sound like Blank.” She snickered and rubbed his foreleg. “Hay, don’t go all tense on me. It’s just me, right?”

She craned her neck to whisper in his ear. “Maybe we can skip supper altogether. Come on. We can head to my room and—”

“No!” Time Turner backpedaled away from her, almost causing her to lose balance. “N-no, we can’t!”

Daring Do raised her eyebrows. She lifted a hoof and opened her mouth. “Huh?”

“I c-can’t—” He shook his head violently. “We met less than a month ago. We barely know each other. We aren’t… we shouldn’t…”

“What’s wrong?” Daring stepped up to him, an understanding smile on her face. “You don’t have to be nervous. Is this your—”

“I just… want to wait.” Time closed his eyes. “I want to wait until there’s something special, something that can’t be ignored.”

“Special?” Daring spread her wings, regretting it a moment later when they cramped up. “We—I like you. I’m pretty sure you like me, too. You’re funny, nice, a little goofy, but smart. We get along and enjoy each other’s company. We’re healthy, strong adults…” She absently twirled the end of her tail around her hoof. “I thought we did have something special going.”

“It’s just lust, Daring,” Time choked. “That’s something you can find anywhere.”

“Well—” She paused. A storm clouded her face as she wrestled several thoughts at once. She swallowed hard, unable to find words. “Well, I—” Red raced across her cheeks, lit from beneath by blood rushing to her face. “I just thought we could have some fun.”

Time Turner sighed through his nose. “I want to be one with a single pony, Daring. Just one. I want to make sure that they’re the right one.”

Daring scowled. “So I’m not good enough?”

“I don’t—I didn’t—” Time coughed. “That’s not what I—”

“No?” Daring prodded his chest. “Because it sure sounded like it!”

“That’s not what I meant!” Time yelped.

Daring’s magenta eyes bored into Time’s blue. She took a breath and let it whistle between her teeth. Her face softened. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Time got to all four hooves. He forced himself to look away from Daring. “I’m sorry, too.” He steeled himself, tensing the muscles in his legs. “Daring, I—”

“Suppertime!” Spike’s voice could be heard echoing through the castle, making use of impossible, magic-assisted acoustics. Daring’s ears swiveled as she briefly tried to guess where the sound was coming from.

She rubbed her forehead and wobbled towards the door. “So, what were you just going to say?”

“I think you’re a wonderful pony.” Time Turner matched her pace. “But it wouldn’t be right.”

They reached the dining room and sat on opposite sides of the table, Time beside Blank, and Daring beside Care. The four of them never said a word as the meal was served and eaten.

Twilight Velvet tried to ignore the tension in the air. She held her husband’s hoof close and welcomed the warmth Spike always provided. She looked at her team with weary eyes, sizing them up, comparing them with the coming ordeal.

She forced down the sickly feeling in her stomach and focused on eating her lasagna.

***

Dreams slipped unnoticed past Luna’s vision. She stared into the mirror. Her faint reflection stared back. The mare she saw had a tangled mane from sleeping on her side for days on end. The mare’s coat was mussed and dirty from lack of care. Her cheeks were gaunt with worry, her eyes bloodshot with stress.

An itch crawled along her back, touching the tips of her wings. She scratched with her hooves, not taking her eyes away from the frightful reflection. “I should have just stayed. Why didn’t I stay? I could have helped—shut up! Just… just shut up. There’s nothing I could do. They’re her memories. I have no right to… Didn’t she offer? Couldn’t I have given her that much peace of mind? What about my peace of mind? She couldn’t have cared less for that. Why did I even bother?”

She spun, kicking the empty plate across the room. “Why do I even bother?” she shouted.

The plate shattered against the far wall, cracking the mirror that lay against it. She stared at the new, broken reflection. Shadows creeped around her hooves as she took a step closer. Black hair mingled with her blue coat. She pulled in a painful breath.

“I’m not a good pony,” she whispered hoarsely. “I can’t take this anymore.”

She gripped her head in her hooves, bunching up her starry mane. “I can’t just make the hurt go away.”

Her ears perked up. She lifted her eyes to meet her reflection’s harrowed stare. “Can’t I?”

She licked her lips. She searched her illusory counterpart’s face for inspiration. “Who is responsible for everything that’s happened? Who sent these disastrous events into motion? Who was it who struck Celestia down and cut Twilight to pieces?”

A smile crawled across Luna’s face, bearing a perfect set of predatory fangs. “Who would have dared to travel hundreds of years to face us? Who would be stupid enough to anger an alicorn princess of Equestria?”

Her eyes flashed white in the darkened room. “Who would dare oppose me, ruler of the land? Who would risk my wrath and the endless nightmares at my disposal?”

She cackled loud and long. “What an imbecile! What a fool! What a childish notion! To think that she seeks to stand toe-to-toe with me!”

The crazed laughter shook her frame as she stumbled back to the center of the room. She folded her legs underneath her, lighting her horn with blue magic. “Very well, Hurricane,” she spat. “Sleep while you can, for the night is just beginning. On this Nightmare Night Eve, the Queen of Nightmares hunts you!”

Black eyelids closed over draconic pupils. “You’re nothing more than a dying dream, Commander.”

Mistake

The sun shone down on Fort Everfree. Flowers bloomed as ivy trailed up the massive stone walls. Green grass took on a yellow tinge in the summer light. A few clouds drifted past, aiding the trees in supplying shade. Commander Hurricane let out a shuddering sigh as she lifted her head, eyes closed and wings spread.

“I see thou have learned to fly without leaving the ground.”

Hurricane’s eyes snapped open. She brushed a white wisp of mane out of her eyes. “I know how rare a warm day was in the Empire, whether high above or far below.” She smelled the air, full of the scent of flowers and fresh-trimmed grass. “Even the clouds are softer here.”

“Equestria is a magical place indeed.” Platinum’s silvery coat glistened. She took a seat on a nearby stone bench, offering the spot beside her to Hurricane. “Made all the more magical by my friends.”

The sun-warmed stone felt cozy against Hurricane’s skin. She leaned forward to watch the gardeners at work. “We have done well. Despite everything, it all comes together.”

Platinum frowned at a passing bee. Her curling mane waved in the light breeze. “Would that this peace could last. The rumors to the south of monsters—”

“The peace shall last,” Hurricane declared. She thumped a hoof on the bench to punctuate her sentence. “Whether the foes be diamond dogs, windigos, or otherwise, we shall stand firm.”

Platinum smiled softly. Her ears swiveled at the sound of tiny hooves clapping against the walkway. “Oh, Celestia! Do come here, dearest one.”

Hurricane frowned, instinctively spreading her wings partway to give the illusion of being larger. She watched a small filly scamper their way, brushing past workers and hopping over rocks. Celestia skidded to a stop in front of them, her pink mane a mess of barrettes and flowers. “Princess,” she said with a curtsy. She followed up with a slightly quieter “C-commander.”

A smaller pony trailed behind her. Luna looked up at Platinum and Hurricane with wide eyes. She hid behind Celestia and pointed across the field. “Bunny.”

“Did thou see a bunny? Oh, how adorable.” Platinum gently pinched the foal’s cheek. “Now run along and play. Tell Clover that Princess Platinum said to give you each an apple.”

Celestia clapped her hooves. “Thank you, Princess!” She was about to turn around when the natural curiosity of a child grabbed her. She looked at the imposing form of Hurricane with a tiny frown. “Commander, what happened to your cheek?”

Hurricane moved so that her scar faced away from the filly. Platinum rested a hoof on Celestia’s shoulder. “It is impolite to ask such things, young filly. Go on now. Shoo!”

The two alicorns ran as fast as their short legs could carry them, wings flapping in an ineffectual attempt to get airborne. Platinum let loose a faint chuckle. “It’s difficult to believe that we live in the prophesied Age of the Alicorns.”

Hurricane sighed, the sun losing a bit of luster in the act. “Yes. Prophesied. It’s indescribable.”

Platinum plucked a berry from a nearby vine. She levitated it towards the commander. “We must overcome thy pathological fear of children if thou are to train them in the art of defense.”

“I am not afraid of children,” Hurricane said. She took the berry with a grateful nod. “These children are merely… different. Very different.”

“Well of course they are!” Platinum held a hoof high and popped a berry into her mouth. “They are the saviors of Equestria! The holders of the sun and moon! The dawn of a new era! I just never thought the mighty Commander Hurricane would be daunted by such things.”

“Daunted?” Hurricane chuckled. “My princess, thou quite misunderstands me.”

“Then, my noble commander,” Platinum said with a cheeky grin, “enlighten me.”

“I… am concerned about what changes might be wrought.”

“Changes?” Platinum stood and gestured for Hurricane to walk with her. “After the Hearth’s Warming, after the Unification, I’m surprised any change could be too great for us. Surely the future saviors of all ponykind would be a mere trifle by now. Another footnote in our already fantastical life.”

Hurricane’s cheek itched, but she made sure not to scratch it. “Thou are deadened to surprise?”

“Hardly, but I am a good deal more solid in the face of it.” Platinum faced the sky, her silvery coat glinting in the orange sunset. Her lips twitched upward. “Perhaps it comes with being a mother.”

She tittered. “Perhaps if you ever become a mother, you would understand. I felt as though I was ready for combat after getting little Sombra to calm down at night.” She bumped Hurricane in the shoulder. “He’s not quite so little anymore, though. Perhaps the two of you would get along.”

“V-very little probability of that, Princess.” Hurricane scratched her scar without thinking, sending burning pain through the left side of her face. “Hardly compatible personalities.”

Platinum puckered her lips in thought. “I suppose it would be bizarre to have thou as a daughter in law.”

“Beyond bizarre, Platinum.” The risen moon reflected in Hurricane’s gray eyes. “Come. We shall dine with the others and prepare for the construction to be started in the morn.”

Platinum squeaked at Hurricane’s side. The commander flicked her tail and spread awing to the unicorn’s back. “Platinum? Are thou well?”

Platinum gasped and reached for her belly. She looked underneath herself. She brought her face back to Hurricane’s with wide eyes. “Oh no.”

She collapsed into Hurricane’s forelegs.

Hurricane lowered her to the ground as slowly and gently as was possible. “Platinum? Platinum!” She moved the mare’s legs aside to see what had troubled her. “What is wrong? What—what?”

A spear of purple crystal jutted out from the princess’ body. Hurricane stumbled back, her wings flared. “St-stay put, Platinum! Do not touch it! Do not move! I will have Smart Cookie come. Sh-she shall know what to do. Just… just stay put!”

She leaped into the air without looking and slammed head-first into a brick wall of force. She planted her hooves on the ground and snarled. “Help me or get out of my way!”

“You had your chance to help her, Hurricane.”

Commander Hurricane looked up. The creature before her was a pony, with a coat as black as night and a mane that sparkled like the stars. Reptilian eye glowed in the shadows, boring into her, willing her to die on the spot. Wind blew through her feathers and sent a chill to Hurricane’s very core.

Fangs parted. “You had your chance. And you squandered it!”

Hurricane leaped into the air, her wings drawing air to herself. She shot forward like a ball from a cannon, but came to just as sudden a halt. The shadowy mare’s magic spiraled around her body and flung her to the ground. She was pressed against the pathway, facing the body of her dying friend.

“Look at her!” the mare hissed. “Look at what you’ve done! Study it! Breathe it in! Examine every minute detail and know that it is your fault.”

“I did nothing to her!” Hurricane screamed. “Let me go! Let me help my friend!”

“As you did that day in the Crystal Empire?” A black hoof stepped on the tip of Hurricane’s wing. “When you charged blindly in without the aid of the Elements?”

“It was Starswirl’s fault!” Hurricane struggled against her shadowy bonds. “He arrived late! Sombra struck the blow himself! It’s their fault she died!”

“Silence!” the shadow growled. “You cannot forget your own part, Hurricane. You cannot ignore your own failure to protect that which you swore to.”

“Be gone!” Hurricane shut her eyes tight. “Away from my sight, demon!”

“Demon?” High-pitched laughter pierced the commander’s ears. “I am no demon, Hurricane!”

The pressure lifted. The wind died down. Hurricane’s cough snapped the sudden silence when fought to catch her breath. Ice scraped her wings while her hooves weighed her down. She staggered through loamy soil.

She pulled her feathery mane away from her eyes and came upon a stone in the ground. She read the inscription. “Queen Platinum—heart of the Crystal Empire.”

Hurricane bit back a laugh. “You try to frighten me with my own reality?”

“Few things are scarier.” The night-cloaked mare stepped out of the mist. “Our greatest fears are not monsters, demons, disasters.” She spread a wing, pointing to a row of gravestones a short ways away.

Hurricane squinted at the apparition. She trotted over to the stones. “Centurion Pansy—he found the freedom he craved. Chancellor Puddinghead—our laughter and song. Smart Cookie—a word to the wise. Clover the Clever—my beloved friend.”

Hurricane gritted her teeth. “Then what is our greatest fear, pray tell?”

“Is it not obvious?” The shadow bared a hungry smile. “You are utterly alone. There is nopony to protect you now.”

Moonlight threw Hurricane against the headstone. She struggled against irresistible force. The magic flung her to the far side of the yard, where she crashed into the branches of a gnarled tree. Blood dripped from her lips and stained her teeth. “Don’t pretend to know me! I’ve lived alone for longer than most ponies have been alive! I cannot fear it, because I am loneliness!”

She blasted through the air, intent on tackling the mare to the ground. She landed in the midst of a vanishing, dark cloud. “When you see comrade after comrade cut down before you, when you spend endless nights starving in the cold, when you outlive every pony you’ve ever held dear, then you can speak to me of loneliness!”

A hoof tangled itself in her mane and jerked her head back. Hot breath assaulted her senses as the shadow snarled into her ear. “I can speak all I want of loneliness, you’re the dastard that ruined my life! From years of abuse to towering sadness! From heat-baked day to frigid night! Your hooves against my face are still felt, your words in my ears still ring! Though only one ever raised a welt, both took the blasted occasion to sting!”

Hurricane scowled. She laughed bitterly. “It always was all about you, wasn’t it, Luna?”

A bestial roar followed Hurricane through the air as she was tossed away. She landed against a wood floor that rattled with the impact. She groaned, fighting aching legs. She cracked her neck and seethed at the emptiness around her. “What now? Care to deprive me of light? Throw me in the dungeon like a common criminal? Perhaps whine a bit more about how you never got your way?”

“Commander?” a small voice said. “Who are you shouting at?”

A small, pink-maned filly hopped out of the gloom. She fluttered tiny white wings and gave her a bow. “Are you okay? Does that scar hurt again?”

Hurricane stared at the small Celestia for several moments. “Luna. What sorcery is this?”

“Merely scrounging through your memories for appropriate anecdotes.” Luna appeared at her side. She shoved a spear into the commander’s hooves. “Now complete your mission.”

Hurricane shook her head. She blinked. “Wh-what?”

“Your mission. Your holy, ordained, noble mission.” Luna sneered. “What are you waiting for? She’s helpless. Unable to defend herself. Open and waiting.”

Celestia smiled up at her teacher. “Pansy said we’re going to learn how to use updrafts today. Will you help us?”

Hurricane dropped the spear. “I don’t have to go along with this lunacy—”

“This is what you’ve already done, Commander!” Luna grabbed the pegasus by the shoulders. “You all but slew a child you helped to raise! How depraved must one become before that is acceptable?”

“She was no child!” Hurricane snapped. “She was a mistake!”

Luna gaped. Her rage returned in a heartbeat. “You dare—”

Hurricane brought her hoof to the side of Luna’s head. Stars exploded in the princess’ vision. She transformed her body into a whirling cloud of stardust and sucked Hurricane into a storm of magic. The pegasus strained, but could not rip free. She bit at the air with flashing teeth.

A cloud of dust kicked up around her when her body met the ground. She sat up, her hooves raised to ward off another attack. Her cheek seared.

“You want to bring up old memories?” she said. “I’ve lived through them a million times. I’ve examined them from every angle. I’ve seen my friends die over and over and over. I know the moments where I made a mistake. I know each and every one!”

Luna landed before her, choking the room with suffocating darkness. The only light came from her haunting mane and her harsh eyes.

“I remember a young pegasus commander,” Hurricane said, “who watched as her entire world froze over. Who could do nothing to stop the windigos. Who had nothing to rely on but a hopeless prophecy.”

Luna barked with laughter. “Does the prophecy look quite so hopeless now?”

Hurricane’s voice filled with gravel. “I forced it to come true.”

Luna started. “You what?”

Hurricane shook her head, her wispy mane dancing in the dust. “Look around you, Luna.”

Luna spun. The room had taken shape, life, light. Glowing tubes contained yellow liquid. Machines spat rolls of paper. The regular drip of water between stones kept time. Iron bars and walls of crystal loomed over her.

“Sombra’s lab?” Luna lowered her horn at Hurricane. “When were you—?”

“The Crystal Empire was dying as well. Sombra came to me for a solution.” The scar on Hurricane’s cheek flared with pain. “We could think of only one: Create an alicorn. So we tried. We tried!”

She scraped a hoof over the floor. “It turned him into a monster. It made me stronger. But we were not alicorns. We decided that we had to start at the beginning. To create an alicorn, we had to start from the moment the pony sparked into existence.”

Luna’s rear bumped against a glass cylinder. Her chest tightened around her heart.

“I first realized how useless it was when Clover, Smart Cookie, and Pansy created the Hearth’s Warming Spell on their own.” Hurricane took several steps towards the larger pony. “We didn’t need an alicorn when we had each other. But by then you were already born.”

Luna choked. “You raised us.”

“I thought I could bring you up to be Equestria’s protectors. I thought I could make you the perfect soldiers.” Hurricane wiped her mouth. “But it didn’t take you very long to declare yourselves princesses, did it? It didn’t take long for you to disgrace Platinum’s memory by usurping her kingdom, did it? It didn’t take long for you to spread tyranny to the neighboring kingdoms, did it?”

“We subdued them when they attacked us.” Luna slammed a hoof to halt Hurricane. “It turns out that continued daylight is a very effective deterrent to invasion.”

“Celestia hovers over the world with the threat of extinction! You sought to drench the world in endless night! You are so far away from what we bled and sweat to achieve that you can’t even see it anymore!” Hurricane pointed a wing at Luna’s chest. “I made you to save the world, not rule it!”

“And we saved it!” Luna butted her head against the commander’s. “We saved it from Discord! We saved it from Tirek! Sombra, Chrysalis, the Smooze, all of them! What more do you want?”

“I want Equestria to be free of my mistakes!” Hurricane let out a shuddering breath. “I want Equestria to be a free nation, like we Founders intended so long ago. Free to live as they please. Free to step out from under the shadow of your overbearing wings. Free to grow into something more. Free of princes and princesses and courts and nobles and all the other dastards that run them. A world where everypony is equal.”

She stood firm, panting for breath. Her knees shook. Her ears lay back against her head. Her tail thrashed from side to side. “And if I must wipe out my mistakes to give this nation a fresh start… so be it.”

Luna gnashed her fangs. “I don’t recall oppressing anypony recently.”

“No?” Hurricane spat on the ground. “Can you look yourself in the eye and say that?”

Luna flapped her wings, a retort at the ready. She caught movement at the far side of the room. A test tube bubbled, holding a reflection of her body. Her black-coated, starry-maned, fanged, nightmarish body.

Hurricane turned her back. “My work is done. Once Equestria sees how their Princess of the Night rules alone, they shall beg for a new order. I won’t even need to lower the axe.”

Luna tore herself away from the mirror image. “I-I will never give up the kingdom I swore to protect!”

“Hmm.” Hurricane waved a hoof. A stone bench sprung into existence alongside a field of flowers and a sunny sky. “Wait until it gives you up.”

Luna reeled from the churning in her stomach. She held a hoof to her chest and glared out of the corner of her eye. “If you made us… does that mean you are our mother?”

Hurricane said nothing. She watched the grass sway in a soft wind.

“Who was the father?” Luna shouted. “Who was it? Was it Sombra?”

“No!” Hurricane shut her eyes. “No. It was a stallion far better than I. An-another victim of the windigos. He died before the Heath’s Warming Spell reached him.”

Luna’s face burned red beneath her coat. “How can you sit there and ignore all the good we’ve done… No... All the good that Celestia has done for the world? The peace between nations? The prosperity of Equestria?”

“She’s stifling them. Treating them like her children. To be punished at will.” Hurricane lowered her eyes to her hooves. “But I can end all that. I can set them free.” She looked up at Luna. “Now be gone, Nightmare Moon. You no longer have power over my dream. You’re nothing but a decrepit monster.”

Luna knelt before Hurricane. She rested her forelegs on the commander’s shoulders. “Well, Mother, it seems like being a monster runs in the family!”

She grasped Hurricane’s head between her hooves and wrenched it around.

***

Hurricane tumbled out of her bed with a screech. She lay tangled in her sheets, drenched in sweat and drool. She lay still as her heart beat against her chest. She gasped out a harsh breath.

She pulled herself into a seated position and held on to the bed post. She leaned against the disturbed comforter and wiped her cheek. She sniffed as she realized it was not sweat on her face, but tears. “No. No, I’m past this. I’ve made my decision. Made it.”

She heaved herself upward until she could sit on the edge of her bed. Her radio crackled faintly with static as the late-night music tried to force its way through. She ran her hooves through her matted mane.

She looked up and saw the mirror. It hadn’t been in her room when she’d gone to bed. She wasn’t even sure where Scuttlebutt had hidden it.

She growled. “If you have something to say, now is the time.”

No reflection, no roiling clouds, no response.

She lay down on the altogether too-plush bed in Blueblood Manor. “We did it. We awakened Nightmare Moon, and the population is sure to reject her. We can start the takeover in earnest.”

She listened for as long as her blood pressure was able to stand it. “Can you at least pretend you give a care?”

“Gather the mirrors.”

Adrenaline spiked in her veins as she shot upright. She took a calming breath before opening her mouth. “Yes, Master.”

***

The world seemed to rock beneath Luna’s trembling hooves. She stood at the center of the Dream’s Keep, the mirrors all around flickering with ponies from around the kingdom. She walked towards the reflection of Nightmare Moon, grimacing at the fiendish sight.

She winced. “I can’t do this again. I can’t lose myself. Not when everypony’s counting on me. Even though—”

The tip of a fang worried her lower lip. “Even though it would be so easy. So easy to stamp out the pony who would dare hurt my sister. Who would even consider taking Twilight away from me. Night after night of endless torture and I would be the one pulling the strings. So easy to hurt my mother—

“She’s not my mother!” she screamed into the night. “She lied! She tried to use me, to change my mind, to get me to forget the things she’s done. All the terrible, terrible things. All the evil things. And my, wouldn’t it be easy to do terrible things back to her?

“No!” She gripped her head in her hooves and howled at the ceiling. “What would Celestia think of me? What would Twilight see? They’d see a monster of the night. The very pony that was banished to the moon. They can’t see me like this! They’d… they’d hate me!”

Her wings carried her into the air. She turned around, looking at each mirror one after the other. “Hate me like I hate her. The witch who thinks herself worthy of choosing the future of Equestria. The monster who thinks herself so high and noble! Who thinks she’s in the right! She deserves to be taken down; she deserves to be stamped out!”

She found the broken mirror, shattered by her earlier rage. Faces peered at her, distorted remnants of Luna. She settled down before it, studying herself. “What are we, Celestia? Just creations in a laboratory? Are we even real? We think, speak, eat, sleep, breathe, love. She called us her mistakes, but how can we be? Are we not as real as anypony? Does she just see us as things?”

She rubbed the base of her horn. “Things. Mistakes. Tyrants. Usurpers. Is that us?”

A lightning bolt leapt from her horn, fusing the glass back into one warped piece. “Why has my world gone insane?”

She hung her head before the mirror, drawing power from deep within her heart. Her black coat faded and melted away, revealing the true blue color underneath. Her pupils expanded and regained their roundness. Her teeth shrunk down to a manageable size. Tears fell from her eyes as she removed the magic cloak of Nightmare Moon.

“I can’t let it take over me,” she whispered. “I have a life to live. A kingdom calls my name tonight. They need all I have to give.

“I must put forth my best display
Of calm and of collect
To reassure them all’s not lost
And that I still earn their respect

“Do I believe in my own words?
Do I see that I’m right?
Can I overcome this hot rage?
This terror that I hold inside”

She wiped her eyes, making way to the staircase. “I’m not a good pony. I can’t do this without—

“The nightmare?”

She flinched. The words had jumped out of her mouth without her consent. “I don’t need the nightmare. I’m free from its power. I just need to remember that it can’t control me. No matter how much I want—”

She sucked in a breath and spread her wings in a regal fashion. Her back itched, but she refused to dwell on it. The light of the moon shone in the room, illuminating her body.

She stared at the celestial object. She hadn’t raised it that night. She’d been exhausted from dreamhopping. She’d given up on it until Celestia was healed.

“There is power available
It’s at your beck and call
You only need to speak the name
And all fall to your thrall”

Luna’s eyes jumped to the stark shadow on the floor. It crept up the wall in time with the moon’s decent. It touched the melted mirror, forming the familiar face of Nightmare Moon herself.

“The shadows will obey you
The monsters join the horde
Just give yourself to blessed night
And be by all adored”

Luna opened a wing and held it between her and the mirror. “No! No, I refuse!

“I will show honor to my sister
She loved me when I was lost!
I will honor Twilight Sparkle
Whose friendship didn’t count the cost!

“I never needed you to begin with
I never needed hate and spite
Dawn will soon come to end your cursed night”

Luna jolted. The itch spread across her body, following the black hair that soon covered every inch.

“I have been your shadow forever!
I have been your heart and soul!
We’ll join once again with each other
Two halves of the mighty whole

“Nightmare reigns with the moon in the sky
The Nightmare reigns in the dead of night
Together we will set the world to right”

The wind swirled in the small room, whipping Luna’s mane into wild shapes. She shouted, her voice slipping between the strong authority of Luna and the seductive force of Nightmare Moon. She slumped against the wall, her shoulders shaking with the force of her weeping.

She fell into darkness.

She plummeted for hours, screaming unintelligibly. Her feathers flapped uselessly around her. Her hooves pinwheeled as they searched for any sort of purchase or control. At long last, her sobs quieted. Her movement stopped. She hung in the void, breathing silently.

“This Hurricane has brought Us pain,” the voice in the darkness said.

Luna did not speak.

“Then it is she who We will maim.” Nightmare Moon walked up to Luna, dressed from head to tail in full armor. It glinted in the light of an unseen moon. “Don’t worry, Luna. We won’t do anything that you wouldn’t do yourself. After all, are We not the same pony?”

Luna coughed.

“Exactly.” Nightmare Moon put her hoof under Luna’s chin. “Now, what is it that We want most? What is Our greatest desire?”

“I want my sister back,” Luna’s warbling voice replied.

“Of course,” Nightmare Moon laughed. “We will get her back, right after we destroy Hurricane and all she holds dear.”

“Luna, stop!”

Luna lifted her head as Nightmare Moon scoffed. “Who—? How is this possible?”

Twilight Sparkle galloped through the dark dream, making a beeline to Luna. She sucked in mighty gusts as she pushed forward. “Don’t—geeze—don’t let her trick you!”

Nightmare Moon rolled her eyes. “You’re kidding. You’re kidding, right?”

Luna let herself be gathered to Twilight’s chest. “Twilight? I don’t understand! How are you here?”

“All it took was a little thought.” Twilight smiled, a blush decorating her cheeks. “Of course you would know more about dreams than I would. Of course you wouldn’t lie to me about being hurt. It’s just not you. I felt like a dipstick for letting you leave, so I tried my hoof at dreamhopping.”

She stuck out her tongue. “It didn’t really turn out at first. Let’s just say that King Andean’s mind is a scary place.”

Twilight placed a hoof on Luna’s cheek. “So I kept looking. I almost thought you’d woken up when I caught a glimmer of you here! I came as quick as I could.” She glared at Nightmare Moon. “And it looks like it was a good thing I did.”

Nightmare Moon snarled. “Aren’t you the perfect little princess?”

Twilight’s eyebrows shot up. “Hay, that’s right! I’m an alicorn!” She concentrated, scrunching up her muzzle. Before long, wings sprouted from the little unicorn’s back.

Nightmare pursed her lips. “Us and Our big mouth.”

Luna gripped Twilight tighter. “I don’t know what to do. Hurricane… I have to stop her.”

“Not like this.” Twilight nuzzled her. “You don’t have to give yourself to the nightmare. You don’t have to be alone. Your friends are still here.”

“My friends are in comas, Twilight.” Luna tried to pull away from Twilight, putting her wing between their bodies. “You and Celestia both. I can’t do anything. I didn’t—” She blinked away fresh tears. “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

Twilight sighed. She brushed a gentle hoof through Luna’s mane. “I’m sorry. I wish I could be with you for real. I wish I could just wake up and have this whole stupid mess over with.”

“We can.”

Twilight and Luna turned to Nightmare Moon. “We can end this,” she said. “With Our everlasting night, the scourge of Hurricane will be over, and the world shall return to the way it was meant to be. Only We can give you relief, Luna. Only together can We end this futile conflict.”

Twilight scrunched her nose. “Have you been reading comic books or something?”

Dark magic swarmed around Twilight Sparkle, tearing her away from Luna. Nightmare Moon stormed after her, her horn glowing alongside her eyes.

“You dare mock Us?” Nightmare Moon roared. “We, who rule the tides! We, who lift the sun and the moon with a flick of Our horn? We, who can cow an entire kingdom with the sound of Our name? You, a little unicorn from Ponyville who got lucky, think you can stand a chance against Us?”

“She’s from Canterlot!” Luna shouted.

A moonbeam—pure, concentrated magic—lanced through the air and sliced through Nightmare Moon’s heart. She dropped Twilight Sparkle, who teleported back to Luna’s side.

“You dare hurt my friends?” Luna gasped. She leaned against Twilight to remain standing. “How can you say that you’re me?”

“It’s like the book said,” Twilight muttered. “She’s all your rage and jealousy given life.”

Luna looked into Nightmare Moon’s hateful eyes. “I don’t want to believe that I can be you.”

“You don’t have to be,” Twilight said. “Trust me and Celestia. Trust the doctors and the guards. Trust in your friends. All of them, not just me and your sister. You know who they are. Applejack and Rarity. Pinkie and Fluttershy. Rainbow Dash and Cadence. Your guard, Skyhook. Heck, even Discord has his moments. There’s probably others around the castle. Open up to them, Luna. Don’t isolate yourself.”

Twilight kissed her gently on the cheek. “Don’t fall into the trap of believing there’s no hope.”

“No!” Nightmare Moon stomped a hoof, shaking the ground beneath them. “Don’t listen to her lies! She doesn’t understand your pain! Only We do!”

“No more, Nightmare.” Luna charged her horn, her eyes shining with light. “Get out of my life!”

The moon broke through the fog. Its beams spotlighted Luna and Twilight as they stood together against the nightmare.

Nightmare Moon raised her horn and attempted to cover the moon with clouds, but was unable to hold back the flowing magic. “I’ll be your shadow eternal!”

“Never!” Luna screamed.

Nightmare Moon grew bigger, moving between Luna and the moon to blot out the light. “To rise up on this darkest night!”

Luna stabbed another lance through Nightmare Moon’s shoulder. “Get out!”

“I will be without and internal,” Nightmare Moon laughed. “Your shadow and soul. Your head to your toe. And you’ll never be free from your fright!”

“Luna!” Twilight grasped the older princess’ hoof. “Together!”

Their horns flashed in concert, conducting a symphony of blue and violet. The streams spiraled upwards in a double-helix to link with the moon. Their manes swirled from the sheer magic energy being poured out, directing the moon towards the towering monster.

Nightmare Moon shielded herself with her wings, which were eaten away by the light. “Wait! Luna, you can’t! We have to stop Hurricane! We have to save Equestria!”

“Yes,” Luna whispered. “But not like this.”

Holes appeared in the nightmare’s hooves, tearing her apart from the inside out. With one final, disbelieving scream, she dissolved into scattered flakes of stardust.

Luna fell limp to the dream’s floor. The shadows disappeared into the moonlight, showering the two ponies in a silvery hue. Twilight cast a glance around. She shut her eyes to focus, and soon a warm fire and two mugs of cocoa appeared before them.

A blanket draped itself around Luna’s shoulders. She had run out of tears for the moment, so she took the offered mug with a nod of thanks. “How can I thank you, Twilight?”

Twilight flopped down and snuggled up to Luna’s side. “Spend some time with your friends. Don’t go crazy. Things like that. I want you there when I wake up.”

Luna lowered her chin onto her forelegs. “I will… do my best.”

They lay together for the longest time, simply enjoying each other’s company.

At length, Luna stirred. “Twilight… I went inside Hurricane’s dream to hurt her.”

Twilight frowned. “I guess that explains things.”

“Yes, but…” Luna finished off the last of her drink. “But the things I saw… she said that she made me.”

“She… helped train you?”

“She wasn’t being figurative, Twilight.” Luna’s ears drooped. “She claimed that she had grown Celestia and I using Sombra’s arcane magic.”

Twilight’s mouth popped open. “Whoa. Holy horseapples!”

Luna raised an eyebrow.

Twilight cleared her throat. “Pardon my Fancy, but what in the flying feather is she talking about?”

“I don’t know.” Luna cupped her head in her hooves. “I don’t know whether to believe her or ignore her or how I can live knowing that she—”

“Hold it, hold it.” Twilight took Luna’s hooves. “First, what’s more important: Where we came from or where we’re going?”

“Wh-where we’re going.” Luna licked her lips, expanding her chest with a soothing breath.

“Okay.” Twilight bobbed her head. “Just remember that no matter what happens, you’re still my friend. Right? Nothing can change that ever.”

“I know,” Luna said. “I j-just don’t always remember.”

“So…” Twilight tilted her head. “If she’s telling the truth, what changes?”

Luna leaned her cheek on Twilight’s shoulder. “I don’t know yet.”

Twilight muttered to herself. Her eyes lit up with an “Aha!”

Luna strained her eyes to look up. “What?”

“If you two are… somehow ‘artificial’ alicorns…” Twilight bit her lower lip. “That’s not quite right. You’re still real. ‘Constructed’ alicorns? ‘Modified’ alicorns? Whatever. If she’s telling the truth, it could have something to do with how Celestia survived her attack. So if you understood how an alicorn was made—”

“I could learn how to put her back together! In a sense!” Luna wrapped her forelegs and wings around Twilight. “Thank you so much!”

Twilight returned Luna’s hug with a smile. “Hay, sometimes I know what I’m doing.”

Luna’s ear twitched. She released Twilight and got to her hooves. “It is nearly morning, and I have many bridges to mend. It was so wonderful spending time with you, even if just for a few moments.”

Twilight giggled. “The moments not fighting for your sanity.”

Luna’s smile grew sad. “Even they were a boon, when you joined my side.”

Twilight walked backwards as her body faded away. “Good morning, Luna. See you soon.”

Luna bowed at the knee. “Good morning, Twilight. May you find brighter skies ahead.”

***

Luna yawned herself awake. She still faced the warped mirror, which now held a haphazard reflection of her tired face. She lit her horn and searched for the deepest part of her heart, the last reserve of magic. The sun peered over the horizon, and that was good enough for her. She let her head flop down on the floor. “I am going to need so much therapy after this.”

“Princess Luna?” Natter’s voice called from the stairwell. “Princess Luna? You are awake?”

Luna rubbed her mangled mane. “Aye, Natter. At long last, I am awake.”

“I did not wish to presume…” he muttered. “I-I heard screaming and was worried that you might be in danger so I… I took the liberty of, um…”

Luna shifted her wings. They lay beneath a soft blanket filled with pegasus down. She smiled at her Royal Scheduling Advisor. “Thank you very much, Natter.”

She stretched her legs and only just managed to stand. “You know, I’ve been thinking lately that you deserve a raise for all the trouble you’ve been put through.”

Natter’s monocle leaped out of his eye. “W-well, that is, I would never presume—my royal duties—”

“Chill, as the kids say.” Luna frowned and led him away with a hoof on his shoulder. “Or is that ‘said’? What decade was that popular in?”

Natter scratched his forehead. “I haven’t the slightest, Your Majesty.”

Silence

Fog coated Ponyville in the early morning hours. Dew coated the brown, fallen leaves and glistened in the faint lamppost light. The leaves rasped underfoot as Care Carrot barreled through the town, leaving her clamoring thoughts in her wake. The streets grew more familiar after every run, allowing her the luxury of navigating by instinct. This morning, her instincts took her downtown.

Few ponies were out before the sun came up. There was a maintenance pony working on the main square’s fountain. The was a street sweeper freeing the road of debris. There was the lamplighter moving on her appointed rounds, extinguishing the street lights.

The sun peered over the horizon. It bobbed as if it was still asleep and begging for five more minutes. Care stopped to lean against the steps leading up to City Hall. She wasn’t sweating, thanks to the cool autumn air, but she was still breathing heavily.

“Killing Hurricane won’t make me feel better, huh?” She snorted, pulling her ponytail out from under her jacket’s neck. “Who said I wanted to?”

She had, of course. Just after the first attack. She promised that she’d make Hurricane pay for what she’d done to the princess, to her squad, to herself. That blasted cutie mark still swirled on the edge of consciousness: The spiraling clouds with the empty center. Heartless and turbulent. An uncontrollable storm.

And now everypony wanted to tell her that it was wrong? Wrong to put Hurricane out of everybody’s misery?

She leaned her knee against a higher step and rested her forehead in her hoof. Her tail thrashed behind her as she gritted her teeth.

“You finished early this mornin’.”

Care opened her pinkish eyes. “Applejack.”

Applejack, Lord Mayor of Ponyville, sat beside Care. She tightened her cravat and watched the maintenance pony bring the fountain to life. “You’re lookin’ like you sat on a nest of bees. At which point they insulted your manestyle.”

Care pulled her lips tight. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“No?” Applejack tipped her hat back. “Funny place to stop by if’n you don’t feel like talkin’. Seems that’s all anypony does around City Hall.”

“I wasn’t thinking where I was going.”

“Right. Just trottin’ wherever your fancy takes you?” Applejack flexed the muscular Kicks McGee. “Your legs musta thought you needed to stop by. They’re smarter than they let on, you know.”

Care rolled her eyes.

Applejack let out a dry chuckle. “So that wasn’t as wise as it sounded in mah head, but ah mean it when ah say you came here for a reason.”

“Yeah?” Care sat up. Her back cracked in a few spots as she stretched. “I’m not so sure.”

Applejack frowned, her ears falling below the brim of her hat. She shook her head gently. “You’re angry, Sugarcube.”

“No horseapples?” Care grunted. “I might be a wee bit peeved, yes.”

Applejack nodded. Her long, blonde mane slid off of her shoulder. “You need to talk about it. Gotta get it off your chest before it punches a hole in it.”

“Talking about it.” Care scraped her hoof along the wooden steps. “Talking about it just makes me madder. And nothing’s gonna change that until the assassin is taken down for good.”

A bird sang at the edge of town, greeting the morning. Applejack’s ears twitched at the sound. She winced. “Bein’ angry ain’t gonna help nothin’.”

“Being angry is a great motivator,” Care snapped. She rolled a hoof in the air. “When ponies get angry, things get done. Things get changed. Things move forward.”

Applejack clicked her tongue. “Things fall outta control.”

Care stomped a hoof. “If you’re not angry, you’re not paying attention!”

Applejack brought her forelegs close to her chest. She brushed her hooves against her orange coat. “Ah am mad.”

She pulled her hat from her head and let it flop to the ground. “Ah’m madder than ah’ve been in a long, long time. Mah friends are hurt, the pony responsible is free, an’ the entire world is just tumblin’ sideways. Ah ain’t been this mad since—”

Care and Applejack looked at each other. Care’s eyebrows were level, her ears laid back. Applejack’s eyes were red, holding back tears.

“When mah parents died,” Applejack said, “ah got real mad. Ah left mah home just to try an’ get away. Ah was mad at the animals, the doctors, the crops, even mah own family. Ah just wanted to forget it all.”

The fierce coals burning in Care’s eyes cooled. She bowed her head, condolences running through her mind. She opened her mouth to say one to Applejack, but stopped when she saw the mare.

Applejack held her head high, watching the sun rise gradually into the sky. Her eyes dried, the tears unshed. “Went to Manehattan, stayed with mah aunt and uncle. An’ it never fit. Ah wasn’t made for that life. Ah was miserable, an’ ah didn’t have nopony to talk to about it. Ah’d left ’em all back on the farm.”

Applejack rested a hoof on Care’s shoulder. “Ah isolated mahself and wallowed in mah own loneliness.”

Care swallowed hard. She brushed a green bang out of her eyes. “Wh—what happened?”

“Ah pulled mah head outta mah butt.” Applejack choked and laughed at the same time. “Saw a beautiful rainbow one day, headin’ straight home. Ah realized what an idiot ah’d been, realized ah missed the ponies ah cared about. Ran all the way from Manehattan to Ponyville in two days.”

She pointed at her cutie mark. “Ah promised mahself that ah’d never again forget what mah family means to me, an’ that ah’d never forget the place ah called home. That’s why there’s three apples. One for lil’ Apple Bloom, one for Big McIntosh, an’ one for…”

Applejack’s chest deflated as she let out a wheeze. “For the granny that ain’t here no more.”

She licked her lips and tilted her head to the side. “Ah am angry, Care. Ah’m one o’ the angriest ponies you’ll happen to meet. Maybe ah’ve got a right to be, too. But bein’ angry never helped me none. It was the ponies who loved me, they’re the ones who made life livable again.”

She sucked in a quick breath and released it with a shrug of her shoulders. “Who do you care about, Care?”

Care’s mouth fell open. She looked at Applejack’s face for a quiet, still moment. She fought to voice the words in her heart. A tear rolled down her cheek. “I don’t know.”

Applejack’s face fell, her eyes jumping to the mare beside her. She scootched closer and wrapped her foreleg around Care’s shoulders.

“I—I’m not like you, Applejack,” Care choked. “I didn’t fit in with my folks. I’m… I’m a unicorn soldier in a family of earth pony farmers. I left to make a name for myself. A name besides ‘Carrot.’ W-we don’t even know each other anymore.”

“Blood’s thicker than water, so they say.” Applejack squeezed Care close. “If you make the effort, you could make it right.”

Care hunched over, shaking her head slowly.

Applejack looked down at the mare, her mouth a thin line. “Alright, then. Answer me this: Who cares about you, Care?”

Care lifted her face. “I’m… sorry?”

“Who, out of the people you know, care about how you’re doin’?” Applejack prodded her chest. “Dig deep and think. Who loves you, or thinks kindly of you, or goes out of their way to help you? You gotta have some.”

Care lowered her head back down with a light scowl. The glum expression faded as her ears stood straight up. “Celestia.”

“That’s right.” Applejack patted the mare’s back. “Who else?”

“Well… there’s you?” Care gave Applejack a small smile.

“Darn tootin’!” Applejack grinned, wiping salt from her cheeks. “See? You ain’t alone, Care. You got ponies in your corner! Anypony else?”

“There’s Caution Tape, and there’s…” Care rubbed her foreleg. A tiny whine jumped from her throat. “Blankety Blank.”

Applejack lowered an eyebrow. “Who?”

“He’s… a friend.” Care cleared her throat. “A friend I need to apologize to really dang soon.”

“That’s part of healing, Sugarcube.” Applejack yawned and stretched her legs out. She scrambled to her hooves and returned her hat to its proud perch. “Learn from mah mistakes, Care. Don’t let yourself get torn away and all alone. Stick with your friends. Be a friend. In the end, you’ll be stronger for it. You’ll be more ready to face the day.”

She pouted her lips in thought, then clicked her hooves together. “Say, tonight’s the big Ponyville Nightmare Night Extravaganza. Ponies from all over town are settin’ up games and music and stuff. You should take a bit to relax, just for tonight. Leave the investigating for tomorrow.”

She winked. “You already have the Radiance costume.”

Care rubbed the back of her neck. She cracked a grin. “I’d have to see what the team’s doing.”

“Ponyville will be here when you’re ready.” Applejack chucked Care’s shoulder. “An’ ah’ll be here if’n you need to talk.”

“Thanks, Applejack.” Care wobbled to her feet. She slid her hoof across the wood steps, nudging tiny fallen acorns around. “It… really does mean a lot.”

Applejack tipped her hat. “Ah know it does, Sugarcube. Ah know it.”

***

Daring Do’s hooves pounded the sandbag mercilessly. The sharp impacts echoed through the castle’s gym. Her mane stuck to her face and covered her harsh gaze. Each blow was accompanied by a strained grunt.

“Stupid.”

Whap.

“Stupid.”

Thwack.

“Stupid!”

The bag rocked on its tether, swinging out of her reach. Her next punch carried her over and down, sending her to the ground. She lay down beside the sandbag, just resting her cheek against the cool floor mat.

She tested her wing by stretching it out to its full length. A minute later, the strain on her tendons was too much. She brought it back to her side with a hiss of pain.

She lifted herself to her feet to face the bag. She glared at it, then hit it with a mean right hook.

It wobbled and returned to ignoring her.

Her ears swiveled as she caught the presence of somepony else in the room. She peered over her shoulder, sending magenta eyes to the entrance. She sighed, nodding at the gray-coated unicorn in the doorway. “Hi, Velvet.”

She rested her forehead against the sandbag. “Here to tell me ‘I told you so’?”

Soft hoofsteps carried Twilight Velvet across the room. She took up position behind the sandbag, holding it tight with her forelegs. She met Daring’s eyes with a faint shake of her head.

“You need me to say that like you need a hole in the head,” Velvet said.

Daring Do pulled her mane out of her eyes. She held Twilight Velvet’s gaze and smiled. “Yeah, well, you should say it,” Daring chuckled.

“Less talking, more punching.” Velvet wiggled the bag. “We’ve got a lot of frustration to work out before we start our study session.”

Daring Do wound her hoof back. “Whadda yah mean, ‘we’?”

“You’re hardly the first pony to want to punch something, Daring.” Twilight Velvet wrinkled her muzzle and winked. “Get kicking, or it’s gonna be my turn.”

Daring nodded. She hit the sandbag with swift, solid punches, cushioned by Velvet’s steady grip. They exercised without a word for most of the day, taking turns relieving stress with the punching bag.

***

Rainbow Dash pulled the cloud veil aside, revealing a world grown from crystal. The breath caught in her throat, just as it always did when she saw the Crystal Empire from the air. The city glittered and glistened in a kaleidoscopic display, slightly distorted by a protective magic dome. It would have been blinding under direct sunlight, but the low-hanging sun cast a gentle, warm shine.

She flew back to the airship and grasped a rope, allowing herself to hang in midair. She stared straight down at the cold hills far below. Crystal ewes pranced, their translucent bodies reflecting like stained-glass windows on the fluffy white snow.

She laughed and kicked off of the ship’s envelope. She arced downwards and swung around to fly alongside the gondola. “Ahoy the ship! Clear skies all the way!”

“Promises, promises,” Skyhook muttered. He held a hoof beside his mouth. “Acknowledged, Captain Dash!”

He stood in the midst of barely-controlled chaos. Soldiers and sailors alike scrambled to tidy up last-minute activities, getting in each other’s way and treading on each other’s hooves. The mad scramble was only outdone by the constant chatter.

The sound of Blueblood shouting into the crystal radio rose above the din. “Blast it, Cadence, we’re asking for a place to land, not a parade! What do you mean we need to assume a holding position? I know this is short notice, but— It’s our aunt, you impossible alicorn! Don’t you dare play the ‘frazzled, overworked princess’ card with me, I know of your trickery.”

Skyhook sighed and pushed his way through the crowd. Once he had reached Blueblood’s side, he regretted that particular decision. The white-coated unicorn slammed a hoof down on the countertop. “No, I am not hung over! I’ve been sober since we took flight, if it’s any business of yours! Give us a ruddy landing strip!”

Blueblood covered the mouthpiece and sent a searing glare Skyhook’s way. “There’s no place for us to land because the air harbor is crowded with tourist ships. They’re here for Nightmare Night. Of all holidays! Why would anypony in their right mind come to the Empire for Nightmare Night?”

Skyhook held his leathery wings upward to avoid bumping the bustling passengers. “Maybe they aren’t here for Nightmare Night. Maybe they’re here for the same reason we are. Safety.”

Blueblood blew a weak breath between his lips. “Very well, then. I see your point.” He raised the mouthpiece and spoke in a voice just loud enough to hear over the hullaballoo. “Cadence, would you kindly let us know when a spot has opened up? And make sure the doctors are ready for our charges. Thank you.”

He tossed the mouthpiece back to the radio operator, who fumbled with it in her hooves before finally getting a grip. “Sky’s Limit over and out,” she said.

Blueblood settled down into a chair on the overcrowded observation deck. He looked out over the city as the airship maneuvered into a steady orbit. He eyed the spires of ruby, sapphire, and quartz, all mingling together to form a sight few could forget. The Crystal Palace sat at the epicenter of the Empire, rising into the sky, overlooking all. A rainbow contrail zipped past his vision, drawing him out of his reverie. “Home again, home again?”

A shout from across the deck stung his ears. He slapped his forehead, fighting against the beginnings of a headache. “Hardly the time for a quiet, introspective moment.”

“Sorry, Your Highness, did you say somethin’?”

Blueblood brought his head around. The pony that had spoken was an earth pony guard, coated from head to hooves in gleaming golden armor. A moment’s thought put a name to the face: Caution Tape of Celestia’s personal guard. Blueblood shook his head. “Not especially. I just feel a bit odd being here, is all.”

Caution leaned towards the window to take a look. “Izzit the circumstances or the location?”

“A little of both.” Blueblood raised an eyebrow. “How would you feel visiting the source of your family’s abdication?”

“Abdication, sir?”

“The reason the line of Princess Platinum no longer rules Equestria.” Blueblood stood up, placing a hoof against the pane. “The disappearance. That was the moment the alicorns took command, in a sense. That was the moment they proved themselves worthy.”

“Well…” Caution stood at attention. “Oi wouldn’t discount your leadership skills, Your Highness.”

Blueblood chuckled. “It’s your job not to discount them.”

“Caution Tape!” Skyhook shouted. He bobbed over the heads of the ponies closing in on him. “I need you to help bring these ponies to order!”

Caution raised a hoof. “Right away.”

Blueblood gave him a nod. “Keep my aunt safe. Thank you.”

“It’s my honor, sir,” Caution said as he trotted away.

Blueblood pulled his mane back, tying the long, blond locks into a loose ponytail. He moved around the edge of the observation deck, his head low as he mulled through his thoughts. His brow furrowed as he focused on the tall tower once more. Historically, it was his kingdom down there.

Legally, on the other hoof…

He collided with something blue head-on, something that yelped and pushed him back. Two hooves rammed into his chest and knocked him onto his bottom. The air left his chest in a whoosh, leaving an aching, painful void that screamed to be filled. He clutched his throat as his eyes popped.

“Watch where you’re going, creep!” Rainbow Dash snapped. Her loud voice echoed in his head. “You’re not getting away with any funny business with me!”

After an agonizing moment, his lungs refilled. His voice cracked. “I meant nothing!”

Rainbow Dash narrowed her eyes to a sharp slit. “Yeah, sure.”

“Honestly, I merely wasn’t paying attention.” He waved one hoof while the other rubbed his temple. “Just… lost in my thoughts.”

Rainbow scowled. “Next time keep your nose outta my feathers.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Blueblood said. “I know of far less painful ways to get myself killed.”

Rainbow pursed her lips, the gears turning in her mind, until she let out a guffaw. “’Kay. Whatever.”

“I wasn’t expecting to run into you.” Blueblood stared into space. He rubbed his eyes. “Naturally. I mean that I thought you were outside, enjoying the view.”

“I was, but they won’t let me through Shining’s barrier unless I’m inside an airship.” She furled her wings, a glum expression on her face. “So, yay, windows.”

Blueblood watched as the airship approached the edge of the magic bubble. “Security is strict these days.”

“Yeah. Feels like you can’t even eat an apple unless it’s been tested by an army of alchemists.” Rainbow Dash pointed a wing to where Skyhook was waving his forelegs. “Looks like you’re wanted.”

“There’s a new experience.” Blueblood flicked his tail as he walked through the crowd. Rainbow Dash followed close behind, hovering just overhead. The soldiers parted to let the prince through, standing at attention. Skyhook stood at the radio, his hoof on the receiver.

“It’s Princess Cadenza. She says she’ll only speak with you,” Skyhook said. “Something about a pass-code only certain ponies know?”

Blueblood’s eye twitched. His horn glowed blue to grasp the mouthpiece from the commander. “Cadence, don’t do this. You know it’s me. You were speaking to me just a mome— I am not holding up progress, you are. Just tell us where to land, and—”

Blueblood gritted his teeth. “‘Sunshine, sunshine, ladybugs awake’”—he kept his voice quiet, running through the rhyme as fast as his tongue could manage—“‘clap your hooves and do a little shake.’ There. It’s me. Where’s our Creator-forsaken platform?”

They were directed through the barrier and into the city. One of the first additions to the Crystal Empire after its return had been public transportation services. The train station had been first, followed by the aerial harbor. The harbor was a series of landing strips ready to accommodate anything from the largest cargo dirigible to the smallest hot air balloon. Magically-charged crystal lights lined the runways, visible from miles up in the atmosphere. Crystal ponies directed luggage cart traffic with shimmering hooves.

Away from the main runway, beside the Crystal Palace, a smaller landing platform had been constructed. It was reserved for either visiting diplomats or friends of the Princess and Prince of the Empire. Carriages already waited to carry the secret passengers of Blueblood’s vessel to the tower, where they would be safe.

Hopefully, Blueblood thought.

Though the platform itself had been clear since before they arrived, the skies were full of bulging balloons and spinning propellers. Airships clouded the sky as they waited for their chance to land. The hair on the back of Blueblood’s neck stood up when a blimp maneuvered too close, before it was pushed back by crystal pegasus guards.

“You know it’s bad when there’re traffic jams in the sky,” Rainbow Dash muttered.

Down on the ground, beside a squad of soldiers in full armor, stood Prince Shining Armor. He gave the Royal Guards a nod, and the pegasi jumped up to guide the ship toward the platform. Earth ponies caught thrown ropes to weigh the airship down, while unicorns tied secure knots. A gangplank was lowered, giving the passengers the opportunity to flood out of the gondola. Rainbow Dash gave Shining a wave and hovered near the doorway, so that she would be close when her friend was moved.

Blueblood waited until most of the passengers had disembarked before making his way down the ramp. “Shining Armor, it’s an honor, as always.”

“I’d like to save the pleasantries for later, if you don’t mind.” Shining bowed his head briefly. “I want to get our charges to the infirmary as soon as possible. The assassin has a habit of popping up unexpectedly.”

“Of course.” The throb in Blueblood’s forehead flared up. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d rather not see my aunt in her condition. I’ll be in my carriage.”

Shining Armor frowned, a glint of pain flashing in the corner of his eye. He swallowed before answering. “I see. Be my guest. We’ll reach the castle shortly.”

Blueblood’s hooves tapped against the crystal road as he approached an opulent, gilded coach. He glanced over his shoulder, catching sight of two beds being rolled towards medical carts. A brief flash of a white wing stung his eyes. He turned back to the carriage and pulled the door open before the coachee could let him in. The driver shrugged and strapped himself into the harness.

Once inside, Blueblood pulled the curtains closed and gave his head a rest from the multicolored surroundings. He settled back into his cushions, closing his eyes and letting out a deep sigh of relief.

“Bonjour, husband.”

Blueblood brayed as his body bolted upright. A thin, delicate mare sat across from him, her violet eyes half-lidded. She gave her mane a flick with her hoof. “You look tired,” she said.

Blueblood let out a phlegmy cough before sitting back down. The coach lurched beneath them as they moved out. “What are you doing here?”

Fleur De Lis wrapped a lavender shawl around her shoulders. She played with the tassels absently. “You mean here in this carriage, or just in general?”

“I didn’t tell you where I was going.” Blueblood leaned his head towards her, his eyes narrowing. “How did you know to come to the Crystal Empire?”

Fleur scoffed. “I have a life, Blueblood. I do not need to follow you around like a lost puppy.” Her horn glowed. Her magic tilted the curtain aside to give her a view of the crystalline city. She sent him a sideways glance, her face softening. “Ze princesses of Equestria have come under fire, Blueblood. I was afraid I was next. I came to Cadence hoping for a safe haven, and she offered one to me.”

She sighed, closing the blinds. “Even though ze assassin probably wouldn’t look at me twice.”

Blueblood nodded. He scuffed a hoof on the seat cushion. “Well… I’m glad you’re here, safe. I would hate to return to Equestria to…” The headache rumbled beneath his eyes. He pressed his hooves against the side of his head. “I’m sorry I didn’t think of it.”

Fleur tilted her head back. She let out a tiny giggle. “Are you sober?”

“Barely.” Blueblood rubbed his cheek. “I didn’t want to make any mistakes on the voyage up here. You have been apprised of my aunt and Twilight’s situation?”

Fleur’s ears angled down. “Oui. Once I arrived, Cadence told me they were on their way.” She nibbled the tip of her hoof. “I spoke with ze doctor. He is an eccentric individual, but he might just know what he’s doing. Breezies usually are as such.”

Blueblood said nothing. He settled against the headrest, his eyes closed and his hoof gently massaging his face.

Fleur cleared her throat. “Have ze migraines returned? I could order you a drink when we reach the palace—”

“No. No, just some… mild painkillers, I suppose.” One of Blueblood’s eyes popped open. “I need to remain alert. At least until the princesses get settled in.”

Fleur rolled her eyes, shaking her head all the while. “Oh, oui, being zonked on painkillers is much preferred to being soused with liquor.”

“What would you suggest, dearest?” Blueblood blew a lock of mane off his nose. “Pray tell, how would you handle it?”

Fleur’s forehead wrinkled. She turned away from him and swished her tail. “I never know what to suggest, husband. I never do.”

“Then we’ll handle it the way we always have,” Blueblood said. “The path of least resistance.”

The rest of the ride to the palace was in complete silence, broken only by an occasional groan of pain from Blueblood and soft sigh from Fleur.

***

The bartender raised his head as the door clomped open. The new customer wore a long cloak to shield them from the crisp fall wind. A wide-brimmed hat concealed their head, protecting them from a sun that hadn’t quite risen yet. The pony walked purposefully to a specific table in the corner and sat down facing the door.

The owner of the tavern came out of the back room, rubbing his eyes. “Hey, get outta here. The bar doesn’t open for another—”

“Hold up, boss,” the bartender said, cleaning out a mug. “I’ll handle this.”

The owner’s moustache bristled. After a moment’s consideration, his eyes blinked rapidly. “You mean she’s—?”

“Like I said, I’ll handle it.” The bartender poured two drinks and slid a tray onto his back. The owner returned to the other room with a quick patter of his hooves.

The bartender dropped a glass before the cloaked pony. He plopped into the seat opposite her, sipping his beverage. “I didn’t expect to see you around.”

The pony removed her hat, revealing a gray mane. She adjusted her glasses to sit a little ways down her nose, so that she could see over them. She glanced at her drink and scoffed. “We need to have a talk, Scuttlebutt.”

Scuttlebutt leaned his foreleg over the back of his chair. He took another swig. “I never realized you cared, Merry.”

Merry Mare slapped a hoof against the table. “What do you think you’re doing here, Scuttlebutt?”

“Following Dulcimer’s orders while staying close.” He ran a hoof across his brown chest, giving her a cheese-eating grin. “Where once was cream hair is now brown. While once I was short and scraggly, now I am tall and thin. What once was a private aide is now an anonymous bartender.”

“You’re darn right you’re close,” Merry hissed. “Too close. It isn’t safe to have so many of us in Ponyville at once.”

“You wouldn’t even have noticed me if I hadn’t told you I was coming.” He flicked his eyes to her untouched glass. “You aren’t exactly a regular patron here.”

Merry gritted her teeth. With slow, smooth motions, she removed her glasses, folded them, and set them on the table. She crossed her forelegs. “I am about to be very frank with you, Scuttlebutt, and you are going to appreciate the horseapples out of it.”

She reached a hoof across the table and touched his leg. She hummed a soft tune.

His entire body seized up. He trembled, slumping in his chair. His eyes grew wide and his complexion grew pale as he stared into her face.

She smiled. “We are entering a very crucial, very delicate stage of the plan. Celestia has been all but neutralized, yes, but we don’t know for how long. Luna has lost her sanity, and Equestria won’t survive long under her rage. Twilight could come out of her coma at any time. We have to act now.”

She growled under her breath. “Frankly, I’m not too impressed with Hurricane’s track record. The only permanent solution is to release our master from the mirrors. The only way to get these mirrors is to strike while the iron is hot.”

Drool dribbled down Scuttlebutt’s cheek. A low whine escaped his throat.

She released him. He slumped headfirst into the table. “I need your help, Scuttlebutt,” Merry said. “And I need it without any clever quips, without any slip-ups, without any interspecies vendettas with changelings...”

Scuttlebutt regained enough motor function to look up.

Merry Mare slid her glass over to his side of the table. “You are going to do as I say, exactly as I say it, or I will send you back to Beefland in pieces. Do you understand?”

After a minute of listening to his moans, she scowled. “Blink once for ‘yes.’”

He blinked.

“Oh, goodie.” Merry brought her mouth close to Scuttlebutt’s twitching ear. “I’ll send a message to Zephyr about where Hurricane’s target is. She’ll be grabbing the highest-profile mirror. You need to grab Celestia’s shard from the palace.”

Panic set in on Scuttlebutt’s slack features.

“Calm down. You’re a wight. You can disguise yourself and nopony will know it’s you.” Merry smirked. “As you, yourself, explained just a few seconds ago.”

She gave him a light tap. He slid off the table and thumped to the ground. “I expect you to get the operation moving as soon as you can. All of Equestria is counting on you. No pressure.”

She touched a yellow gemstone hanging from her neck. She opened her mouth and sang quiet but strong notes. “Ahh-ah-ah, ahhh-ah.”

Her hat lifted from the table on golden, shimmering currents of magic. It flew across the table to land on her head. She pulled her cloak tight and threw the door open, while Scuttlebutt struggled to lift himself to his seat.

“Me and you, you and me
We’ll get the mirrors together
Soon they’ll have to see
We’re ponykind’s saviors”

Ex-Mayor Merry Mare gazed up at the low sun, setting her spectacles in place.

“We must avoid
Every little indiscretion
Our only hope
Is our Master’s resurrection!”

Intertwined

Time Turner’s clockwork device walked across the table on thin, metallic legs. It reached the edge, where it stopped and reversed directions. The gyroscope kept it balanced, the key kept it ticking, and gentle nudges kept it from interfering with its master.

Time himself leaned on the table, studying the dispersed pieces of his time-manipulating gauntlet. A genius piece of engineering, even if he said so himself. A device that took all of Starswirl’s theories and formulas and powered them with earth pony magic. An impossibility made possible.

He picked up a focusing crystal that usually rested against his fetlock. Its power was vast, yet still limited. Traveling backwards was dangerous for numerous reasons. Speeding up time was usually more trouble than it was worth. Slowing time had its benefits, but stopping it was like trying to block water from a faucet with bare hooves; a little always leaked through.

He raised an eyebrow as the sun unceremoniously jerked its way over the horizon. A rough morning for Luna, then. He couldn’t blame her, of course. Not many ponies could say they’d had any decent sleep in recent weeks. Not after Hurricane’s little stunt with the mailboxes.

Time glanced at the books piled on a neighboring table. He’d tried to go through a few during the night, searching for clues, but the ancient text was indecipherable. It was written in Old Equish, if it was even Equish at all. “Thank the Creator for the language reforms, then.”

So he’d busied himself with tweaking his gauntlets and gadgets, because sleep and he were not the best of friends.

A screw rolled from the tabletop and clattered next to his hoof. He gave a sigh and bent over, reaching for it with his dexterous lips.

“You’re t-tired,” a wavering voice chittered.

Time Turner looked up. Sometime in the past few minutes, a changeling had crept into the library and snatched a book. The changeling had then carried the book upwards on thin, transparent wings and attached itself to the ceiling with cloven hooves. The changeling turned a page, its multifaceted eyes gleaming in the morning sunlight.

“You’re awfully perceptive.” Time Turner spat the screw out on the table. It bounced off of the walking device and sent it teetering. “What other secrets of the universe do you have access to?”

The changeling glanced away from the book. “I’m p-pretty darn good at poker.”

“I can’t tell if that’s clichéd or just painfully obvious.” Time Turner frowned down at his technological mess. “Are you having any luck reading that muck?”

“Nah, I’m just l-looking at the pictures.” The changeling turned the book around, revealing a striking portrait of Sombra himself. “T-tasting the emotions. Stuff like that.”

Time tilted his head, squinting his eyes in an attempt to focus the picture. “Is that the one Daring called the Grimmer Alicorn?”

“Grimoire Alicorn,” the changeling clarified. “And yeah. It was the one th-that caught my attention the most.” It tapped the cover. “This thing is b-bound in cowhide.”

“Well that’s dashed barbaric.” Time Turner leaned on his elbow. “I don’t suppose the ink was brewed from the collected sins of ponykind?”

“Funny,” the changeling sighed. It went back to shuffling through the pages. It stuck bookmarks wherever it found something of note. “The most I c-can say is that a l-lot of hate went into this book. Hate for what, or by wh-who, I can only guess. Sombra wrote it, but…” It shrugged. “He obviously wasn’t the only owner.”

Time Turner picked up a piece of his gauntlet’s framework. He turned it over in his hooves and polished it to a shine. “What makes you say that?”

“W-we found it in Princess Celestia’s library.” The changeling lifted an eyebrow. “Do the m-math.”

“What?” Time pushed his chair away from the table. “You think Celestia poured hate into that thing?”

“No! Heck no!” The changeling’s ears lay back against its head. “B-but it’s possible there were other owners… ones between S-Sombra and Celestia.”

Time lowered his eyebrows. He rubbed the bronze-colored parts clean with renewed vigor. “Any ideas who?”

“Not really.” The changeling snapped the book shut. “If you wanna t-talk about ancient history, y-you’ve got the wrong pony.”

At the sound of those words, Time’s ears swiveled towards the changeling. He bent down to take his screwdriver between his lips, moving slowly and purposefully. “Wrong pony indeed. Fair enough.”

He kept his eyes on the work in front of him. He pressed two pieces of the outer shell against each other and screwed them together. “Are you sure we haven’t met, Mr. Blank?”

The clack of the changelings cloven hooves against the ceiling accompanied the response. “P-pretty sure we would have r-remembered each other.”

“Indeed.” Time set the focusing stone in place with a satisfying click. “But I seem to remember a little changeling with a speech impediment just fine.”

“I’m not the only b-being in the world with a st-stutter,” the changeling said. “Y-you’re mistaken.”

Time Turner pushed his half-assembled gauntlet to the side. “Really? Then perhaps you know this other changeling. They saved my life and I’ve been hoping to thank them. Have you heard the name Mandible?”

The changeling’s hooves lost their grip and scraped across the crystal walls. Its wings buzzed to regain its balance. Time looked up at the changeling, who looked back with wide eyes.

The changeling fluttered down the rest of the way to the floor. “N-not in a long time, no.”

“Well, I’m sure you remember that Mandible was an adorable little changeling who thought the new pony prisoner was fascinating.” Time Turner smiled, leaning his head back. “You know, I never did thank them for helping me escape the hive.”

The changeling trotted over to the pile of tomes, where he set the Grimoire on top the proper tower. “I… I…”

Its hollow fang bit into its hard lip. “I thought you d-died. When w-we got separated—”

The changeling shook its head. It sat beside Time Turner and looked up at him, its mouth pulled down in a steep frown. “W-what happened to you?”

Time Turner rested his forelegs at his sides. “I had my last adventure.”

He pulled his welding goggles from his forehead and laid them beside his tools. “That night, when you broke me out of the pit, we escaped through Ghastly Gorge. You remember?”

“E-every moment. The soldiers were buzzing after us. They were g-gonna suck you dry and sq-squish me.” The changeling shuddered. “Q-Queen Chrysalis’ screams still… I still hear her in my n-nightmares.”

Time Turner nodded. “They were going to catch us, and there was no help coming. So, I decided to distract them.”

“I-I thought…” The changeling’s eyes turned down. “When y-you pushed me down that hole, I th-thought you were s-sacrificing yourself for me.”

“Well, in a way,” Time sighed. “I led the fiends on a wild goose chase until I was sure we were far enough from you. Then I let them have it with a time bomb. I froze them in place, right there and then. For once in my life, an adventure was going to end happily. Nopony got hurt. Nopony died.”

The changeling’s wings crinkled behind its back. “Why didn’t you come find me?”

Time Turner’s face fell. “We weren’t the only ones in the gorge that night.”

Time’s hoof toyed with a bolt. “A unicorn stallion materialized out of nowhere. He grasped one of my bombs in a spell and set it off.” He flicked the bolt at his walking device across the table. “Do you know what a time loop is?”

“I’ve h-heard of stories…” The changeling’s horn fizzled, no doubt tasting the emotions of the atmosphere. “It’s when th-the same thing happens over a-and over again, right?”

“That’s one way to look at it.” Time Turner drew an imaginary circle with his hooves. “Time always wants to move forward. It’s inexorable and unstoppable. If you try to move back, it will grasp you and fling you ahead to where you belong, and it will hurt. But if something goes wrong with the spell—say if something casts it again or if it stays active—there’s a change you will get sent to the past again.”

Time shrugged. “It’s honestly less of a loop than it is a terrifying tennis match.”

“And the unicorn made y-your time bombs malfunction,” the changeling said. “Y-you kept bouncing back and forth.”

“Not very far, thank heavens. And the limited range of my devices meant I was the only pony affected…” Time Turner rubbed his forehead, visions of blazing magic and his own agonized screams rattling through his skull. “But still, I was affected. I relived the same five seconds every moment of every day for years while the world carried on around me.”

The changeling shut its eyes and turned away. “Did it hurt?”

Time ran a hoof through his spiky mane. “Like I was being mauled by Cerberus himself.”

“H-how—?” The changeling swallowed. “How did you get out?”

“The answer to that problem, like so many others, was Celestia.” Time Turner chuckled to himself. He saw the concern in his princess’ eyes as she carried him to the hospital. “She followed the stories of a ghost in Ghastly Gorge and found me. Being no slouch with magic, she was able to finally free me from my curse.”

The changeling moaned from the bottom of its heart. “That curse was my fault.”

“Untrue, Mandible! Never so!” Time clasped the changeling’s shoulder. “It was the fault of the unicorn and no other! I would have gladly given my life to see you free to travel Equestria. Something I see you’ve accomplished.” He nudged the changeling’s ribs. “The Knight of Secrets, I believe Celestia named you?”

“Y-yes.” The changeling lit its horn, coating its body with a small flash of green fire. When the flames died down, its body was remolded into that of Blankety Blank. “Secrets. Sh-she said they were precious. They needed protecting.”

“True enough.” Time Turner gave his device a glance. He could fix it later. “What do you say to breakfast? Catch up a little? Time’s been good to us both, it seems.”

“Was the curse why you retired?” Blankety turned his pinkish eyes downward. “I mean, the pain you went through… That was why you moved to Ponyville, wasn’t it?”

Time paused, halfway to a standing position. He stretched his numb legs out, one by one. “No. No, I lived in Ponyville long before I became a knight. But yes, after that little episode, I got tired of fighting.”

He hung his head, though a small smile touched his eyes. “Such a shame that it took Celestia getting hurt for me to realize… some things are still worth fighting for.”

He flung his duster coat over his shoulders. “Things like this wonderful little town. Care to try one of the local cafes? They make a mean omelet.” He squinted. “Do changelings eat omelets?”

“I do,” Blankety laughed. “Wait up, I’ll get my jacket.”

As the younger creature dashed off, Time Turner took a moment to muse to himself. The world he lived in had always been fairly small. Most often all it took was a scratch to see the connections between everything just below the surface. It didn’t much surprise him that he would run into this old acquaintance during such hard times.

It would have been a happy coincidence, if he believed that there was such a thing as coincidences. In a world as interconnected as the one he lived in, they were all but nonexistent. Something had thrown them together. Something had called them to the same purpose.

“I wonder, Celestia,” Time Turner mumbled under his breath, “how far ahead can you see?”

***

King Andean Ursagryph buckled to his knees.

Felaccia—a land of rich hills and flourishing wildlife, a land of majestic floating mountains and glistening diamond waterfalls, a land of infinite open skies and soaring strong wings—burned.

He tried to rise to his feet, to spread his mighty wings, but the spear point in his side burned. The sky burned with red fire. The ground burned away every scrap of moisture. The very air burned the beauty of his home away. Felaccia was dying, and Andean was only there to watch.

“Ahh-ah-ah, Ahh-ah.”

The faint melody tickled his ears. The only sensation that didn’t cause intense heat created a different sort of fire in his chest. His talons clawed at the dry, dusty ground. He opened his beak wide and shouted at the top of his parched lungs. “Shut up!”

“Ahh-ah-ah, Ahh-ah.”

“Papa!”

A new voice reached him. It was his daughters! Their cries brought new life to his limbs, spreading his wings against the oppressive heat. He flew through the air while blood dripped from his wound. In the capitol city of Rukh, the castle loomed on the side of a mountain, its walls broken and crumbling. There was no wind to guide him, no thermals or currents, just dead, quiet air.

He crashed through a broken window and slumped against a wall. “Stella! Corona! Where are you?”

“Father!” Corona flapped her red-tipped wings, shooing him away from down the hall. “Run! You have to go!”

“I’m not leaving you!” Andean bellowed. He clutched his side and rose to his grizzly-bear haunches. “What happened? Where is Stella—?”

Greedy green eyes materialized out of the shadows behind his eldest daughter.

“Corona, look out!”

She turned her head and screamed. An unearthly claw reached out of the darkness and grasped her tail, dragging her back. Andean roared like a beast and charged.

The ground fell out from beneath his feet. He plummeted into absolute darkness, an endless void, an infinite abyss. As he drowned in shadow, he saw the greedy green eyes again, staring at him. He saw his daughters clutched in those scraggly yet power talons.

He flapped his wings once to push him towards the monster who would dare threaten his family.

“Papa, help!” Stella wept.

“Father, get out of here!” Corona screeched. “It’s a trap! It’s all a trap!”

Andean pressed on. He put his talons forward, the razor tips at the ready to rake the glowing eyes out of the monster’s blasted skull. He opened his mouth and spat out a battle cry that would cow the sturdiest minotaur.

One of the monster’s talons dropped Stella. Her shed tears followed her into oblivion. The hand then snatched Andean right out of the air. It closed around him, crushing the very life out of his body.

“Stella!” Andean struggled to get free. Struggled to hurt the monster, to make it bleed, to make it pay. He craned his neck and struggled just to keep his eye on his falling daughter. “Stella!”

He turned his burning gaze on the greedy green eyes. “I’ll kill you! You can’t take my daughter from me! You can’t! You won’t!”

Corona disappeared. In her place, the wicked talon clutched a long shaft of wood. At its tip, there sat a sharp head coated in gold. Lightning crawled along its surface. The eyes narrowed. “Mine.”

“Never, do you hear me?” Andean tore at the crushing fingers. “Never!”

The monster drew the spear back and pointed it at Andean’s heart. “Mine.”

The spear struck home, and Andean woke up.

He was in Canterlot Castle’s guest room; the suite made specifically for royal visitors. His bedspread had been shredded during his latest dream. He cast the tatters aside and rubbed his bald, wrinkled head. His heart thumped against his chest. A chill was in the air that was only partially to do with the deepening autumn weather. He could still feel a dark, demonic presence just inside the shadows.

“Get out!” he bellowed at the sound-proof walls of his room. “Get away from me!”

The shadows taunted him by neither shying away nor moving forward. They merely remained as they were: Dark and inscrutable. He flicked on a lamp and was satisfied to find that many of them disappeared.

He rolled out of bed and lumbered to the curtains. He tore them aside to look out on a starry early morning. The sun had yet to rise, and he was beginning to doubt that it ever would. After Luna’s revelation about Celestia’s condition the previous day, he had no way of trusting the mare.

He sighed and rubbed his clawtips together. He supposed that made them even, didn’t it?

He leaned out his window as the horizon took on a light, lavender tinge. The sun was coming up after all. “So miracles do happen.”

His eyes drifted down to the Canterlot Sky Harbor. The griffon airship, the Thunderhead, lay moored against the side of the mountain. He could see lights in the cabin on top of the envelope where the early morning watch stood sentinel over the vessel. Andean clicked his beak three times.

He leapt out the window to pay them a visit.

His wings extended out to catch the wind and brought him into a shallow dive. He circled overhead with not so much as a single flap, spiraling down towards the harbor below. His literally eagle-eyed sentries spotted him immediately and waved him forward with extended wings. He landed at a crouch, his head down and his wings arched, ready to pounce.

He raised his head in a regal pose, complete with a slight scowl as befitted a sovereign of the griffons. His guards bowed, but did not take their eyes off their surroundings. It was good that they did not forget their duties while in Equestria.

“Give me your volleygun,” Andean said, turning his head to one side to look a guard in the eye. A surprise inspection would take his mind off of the insanity of the month. It would give him something he could control. He took the long wood shaft in his talons, atop which there was a bronze-colored tube. A blade was stuck fast to the side of the tube.

It was polished to a shine. Andean could pick out the distinctive wave pattern in the material. It was a metal they had called wootz steel; an alloy made from iron, zinc, nickel… and carbon. Heating the alloy with coal added that final magical ingredient. It created a material stronger than the staunchest iron, tougher than the most pliant bronze. The edge it held was as keen as a talon and sharper than any beak.

It was the same material used in the assassin’s wingblades. At the very least, it looked similar. That made Andean quite suspicious. Quite suspicious indeed.

“Perfect,” Andean said. “I expect no less.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” The soldier accepted his volleygun back with a salute of his wing.

Andean folded his wings across his back. “Where might I find Grenadier Lanner?”

“He’ll be starting his watch now, Your Grace,” the other guard said. “He’ll probably be in the engine room at the moment.”

King Andean rumbled in the back of his throat. The Thunderhead was not known for its peace and quiet. Hopefully the engineers were only running it at a dull roar this morning. “As you were.”

He walked through the cargo bay doors and into the airship. The aluminum walkway clanged beneath his talons and claws. The rounded framework beams curled up to meet above his head, four stories above. Large airbags sat at equal intervals down the length of the ship, which would be inflated with helium when takeoff was ordered. Griffon soldiers and engineers perched on catwalks and hollered to airborne comrades in their daily struggle to keep the vessel shipshape.

Andean’s presence only drew a nervous glance or two in his direction. A few griffons stiffened their backs at his approach, and then relaxed after he passed. He took a direct path to the engine room, at the far end of the Thunderhead.

He heard the deep thrum of the engine long before he saw it. A magnetic field, created by enchanted lodestones, turned a turbine which generated enough electricity to power the airship. Copper coils carried the energy to the propellers, the lights, the navigational instruments…

And the metal spike on the ship’s prow.

“Grenadier Lanner!” Andean shouted. “Are you here? I must speak with you!”

His booming voice carried throughout the entire room and overpowered the churning generator. One engineer turned his head and called back, “He went to the laboratory, Your Grace!”

Andean narrowed his eyes. Perhaps the grenadier knew he was here and was preparing a report? He trundled to the nearest ladder and climbed up to the top level. A heavy door stood between him and the gondola on top of the ship, where the living quarters, kitchens, and ship’s wheel were kept. It wasn’t as roomy as the rest of the ship, but it was made with a sharper eye for decoration.

Andean passed a tapestry depicting the king who reigned before him. In the gondola, he could almost pretend that he was still home. He counted the doors until he reached the laboratory, and then entered without knocking.

Two griffons sat inside. One owlish griffon leaned over a series of graph papers. Andean took a glance, but couldn’t make much information out. The other, the brown-feathered Lanner, saluted immediately. “Your Grace! May I be of assistance?”

“I’m here to see the results of the testing you’ve done.” Andean ducked his head to fit into the room. “Where is the wingblade we recovered a week ago?”

“Leopold is going over the results from the testing now,” Lanner said, gesturing to the scientist. “We will soon have a reasonable idea as to the blade’s makeup.”

Leopold sat up. “Your Grace, I would like to respectfully request the use of the spectrometer. It would go a long way in aiding our research into the exact composition of—”

“You haven’t used the spectrometer?” Andean sneered and leaned closer to Lanner. “Why?”

The grenadier’s throat bobbed. “Your Grace, I was afraid of damaging our only piece of evidence—”

“I want that knife studied!” Andean roared.

Both of the smaller griffons shrunk back, their feathers bristling. Andean took a deep breath in. “I want to know exactly what the blade is made from,” he said in a quiet voice. “If it uses the same alloy we do, then I have many, many questions of how a pony could get a hold of a material we have not yet revealed to the world. I want this foolish assassin put in her place as soon as possible, and I will not have my own people assisting in her crazed quest to murder the one who raises the sun!”

He sat on his haunches. One talon brushed his feathery beard while the other scratched his wrinkled head. “And if the alloy is not the same, then we have a competitor in the market. I don’t care much for either option, so I would very much like one ruled out. Use the spectrometer and any other means necessary.”

Leopold bowed. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

Lanner bobbed his head. “It shall be as you have said, King Ursagryph.”

“Good.” Andean glanced at the graphs. “What are your preliminary findings?”

“It’s very similar to our own wootz steel.” Leopold pointed to a mathematic equation that meant nothing to Andean. “Whether it is identical or not, the spectrometer should tell us.” The griffon shrugged. “If you come across any other wingblades, it would help in solidifying our findings.”

Andean growled. “I shall keep that in mind, should I find myself in a duel to the death with the mare.”

Leopold’s eyes widened. He coughed into his talon. “Er, yes, Your Grace.”

***

Andean returned to Canterlot Castle an hour later, his nervous energy-powered inspection complete. The Griffon Air Force was operating at peak efficiency. Perhaps they were as nervous as their king. He brushed past the guards flanking the door to the dining room, his gait a steady march.

He stopped short. Sitting at the table, eating and laughing with his two daughters, was Princess Luna herself.

Her coat was a little ragged, her eyes tinged with red, and her feathers mussed, but she looked far more at peace than he’d ever seen her. It was the wide smile that brightened her demeanor, he decided. It showcased that there was indeed light in her shadowy visage.

Something had happened since he’d last seen her, several days ago. But what?

“And then Twilight heard a massive blast just outside the window,” Luna laughed. “A shockwave of colorful magic rushed past and startled her out of her concentration.” She spread her forelegs wide. “The dam broke. All the magic she’d been building up, all the failed attempts and frustration, poured out in one go.”

Stella giggled even as she stifled a yawn. She fidgeted her wings in that way she always did when she couldn’t get comfortable. “Did Spike’s egg hatch?”

“Did it? It certainly did!” Luna levitated a pancake in her starry magic. It glowed a bright white as she worked a quick spell. “It hatched, and the dragon inside grew enormous! He rose up, up, up until he broke through the ceiling!”

The pancake transformed before their eyes, growing and flattening. It became a sparkling blanket crafted from blue cotton, which floated out of the air to drape itself over Stella’s and Corona’s heads. It stuck to their syrupy beaks and talons until they dug their way out.

Corona sat up when she noticed Andean. Her red-tipped wings flapped outward. “Father! Good morning!”

“Good morning, my lovely daughters,” Andean said. He sat at the head of the table and turned to Luna. “Princess. I’m surprised to see you up.”

“King Andean.” Luna’s horn flickered. A servant brought out a fresh plate and laid it before the griffon. “I suppose you might say I finally opened my eyes. I have… a duty to attend to. I can’t do that if I close myself off from my own kingdom.” She tilted her chin up. “Or its neighbors.”

Stella rested her talons beside her plate. “Sheesha, my wings hurt.”

He tapped the table. “Remember your Equish, Stella.”

She smiled. “Yes, Father.”

He leaned against the table, ignoring his breakfast. “In the interest of bringing our kingdoms closer together, how about a trade?”

Luna cocked an eyebrow. “I’m not so foolish as to make a promise without knowing the specifics.”

“Indeed not.” He intertwined his talons and rested his chin atop them. “I am drawing near to a revelation about the assassin. I will happily share this information, but I would like to be compensated.”

Wrinkles appeared beside Luna’s tired eyes. “You would put a price on peoples’ lives, Andean?”

“Not a price, just…” Andean’s beak moved, but words did not come out. He covered his eyes with a talon and sighed. “No. I would only ask… a favor. Yes. A favor.”

Luna tilted her ears forward. “I don’t suppose it has to do with ambrosia?”

Andean frowned. “I’m not asking for much, Luna—”

“We’ve gone over this before,” Luna said. “The breezies won’t let us trade the ambrosia. You’ll have find something they desire if you wish to—”

“Two liters.” Andean snapped his beak shut. He drummed his talons against the table. “Just two liters, that’s all I ask. It’s not a trade. It’s barely a gift, even during this shortage.”

Luna’s head jerked back. Her wings spread, almost bumping a passing servant on the back of her head. “Two liters?”

With nothing left to say, Andean nodded.

Luna’s voice got caught in her chest. “Eh, ah—I don’t know that… I don’t see why not, but…”

She recovered some of her senses and drew her wings in. “Well, I’m sure I could arrange a transfer from the castle’s private store.” She clasped her hooves together to mirror his earlier pose. “Now, perhaps I can suggest an additional exchange?”

Andean lowered his brow. “I’m listening.”

“I will share with you a recent revelation about the assassin,” Luna said, “and you could explain why you think you only need two liters of ambrosia.”

Andean’s jaw clenched. His heart raced. His talons dug into his palms. “That… is a deeply personal matter, Princess Luna.”

Corona was quick to rest a wing across Stella’s shoulders. “Come on, Stella. Luna will finish the story la—”

“It’s alright.” Luna extended a wing towards them. “I will not pry, Andean. If you don’t wish to speak of it, then I will drop the matter.” She pushed the somber expression from her face and replaced it with a small smile. “We must meet up soon and discuss what we know of the assassin. Without pretenses or favors to interfere. Perhaps together, we will create a solution.”

Andean’s beak fell open. After a second had passed, he smirked. “Very well. I look forward to our talk.”

He spread one wing halfway. “But for now, Nightmare Night approaches, does it not, my daughters?”

Corona clapped her talons together. “Yes! Are we trick-or-treating in Canterlot, Father?”

“If I may.” Luna stood up and walked around the table. She winked at the young griffon chicks. “If your father feels up to it, I find the Ponyville celebration to be the most… enthusiastic.” She laughed lightly. “Perhaps you can finally meet some of the heroes you’ve only heard about in stories?”

Corona’s eyes lit up. She flapped her wings and took to the air, facing Andean. “Father, it sounds wonderful! Lord Mayor Applejack will be there, and Lady Fluttershy and Lady Pinkie Pie…” Her cheeks blushed the same red as her crest. “Perhaps I’ll be able to meet Spike?”

Andean watched as Luna hid a gigantic grin behind a hoof. He sighed in mock defeat and waved a talon. “I don’t think I could stop you if I tried. Yes, we can trick-or-treat in Ponyville.”

“Gawrock!” Corona squealed. She bunched up her talons beside her face. “I-I mean, thank you, Father.”

She settled down in her seat and nudged her little sister. “Isn’t that wonderful, Stella? We’re going to see Ponyville!”

Stella sat quietly, staring at her plate.

Andean’s chair creaked as he leaned closer to her. “Stella? Are you alright?”

A little light appeared in her glazed eyes. A tear dripped down her cheek. “My wings hurt, Sheesha.”

Luna took a step back. She spoke quietly to her servant pony. “Bring the doctors. Quickly.”

Andean felt an icy chill grasp his heart. He crawled off of his chair and moved to his youngest daughter’s side. “Where does it hurt, Stella? What does it feel like?”

Stella’s entire body drooped. She pointed with a weak talon. “Everywhere.”

Andean took her tiny talon in both of his massive claws. He switched to the griffon language, speaking with a quiet caw. “F-focus on me, Stella. Look at Papa. What does it feel like? Show me exactly where it hurts.”

She stared off into the middle distance. She chirped a response. “It aches inside.” She finally found his eyes and frowned. “I’m so tired, Papa.”

She collapsed into his arms.

Andean held his unconscious daughter. He slowly, achingly, brought his talon up to hold her head still. He barely registered Corona’s panicked shouting. He locked eyes with Luna, who stood stock-still with her every muscle stiff and her jaw open in a soundless scream.

He strongly suspected that he looked much the same.

“My wings hurt, Andean,” his queen had once said. They had shrugged it off.

He looked down at his daughter. “It’s too soon,” he whispered.

Luna snapped out of it first. She placed a hoof on his shoulder and told him to follow. She would lead him to the castle infirmary. From there, medical carriages would take her straight to the hospital. Andean followed in a daze, his eyes locked on his youngest. Her wings shivered against his foreleg.

“It’s too soon,” he said aloud, his voice cracking.

It was with a moment’s hesitation that he passed Stella to the paramedics. He stood still while they strapped her to the gurney. He couldn’t ride along, they said. He was too big.

He followed from the sky, Luna and Corona close behind. The sun made its way higher, illuminating a city that was just waking up. Red and blue lanterns flashed, pinpointing the thundering cart.

The ice in Andean’s heart cracked. Fire bubbled up from its depths and made its way to his mouth. He opened his beak wide and howled a mighty roar.

“It’s too soon! Hellfire and brimstone, it’s too soon!”

Ambrosia

Andean stared at the offensively boring wallpaper of the hospital waiting room. He hadn’t cried. He couldn’t. He had to be strong. Strong for Stella, strong for Corona, strong for his kingdom.

He didn’t feel strong.

His wings hung limp at his sides. One covered Corona as she sat beside him, tears pouring unabashedly down her cheeks. Two guards, one griffon and one pony, stood at the door, barring anybody but doctors from entering. Luna paced around the room, a cup of coffee cradled in her magic.

“I’ve spent too much time in this life-forsaken hospital these past few weeks,” she muttered.

Andean’s first instinct was to respond with sarcasm. He couldn’t muster up the desire. “I suppose.”

Luna winced. She looked Andean in the eye. “I swear that these doctors are the best in their field. If anypony can help Stella—”

“Is that why you sent Celestia to the Crystal Empire?” Andean said. “To see inferior doctors?”

Luna gritted her teeth and raised her wings. “I will do everything in my power to see her cured of whatever affliction has taken her.”

Andean let out a coarse breath. “Always the heroes, you and Celestia both.” He clicked his beak and hardened his gaze. “Always the watchful protectors. Always the mother hens, hovering over your chicks. Always commanding and leading and—”

“Yes, Andean, I lead,” Luna snapped.

She finished off her cup and tossed it across the room. It settled next to the wastebasket. “I lead, and I command, and I protect, because I can. My sister and I were given these powers, no matter the source, to do just that. To stand idly by and watch the world tear itself apart would be against everything we hold dear.”

Andean shook his head. He stood up, forcing Corona to scramble away. “So you impose your will on everything you touch. Because if anyone stepped one inch out of line, the world would spiral into flames. Everyone must live the pony way or—”

“This helps nothing!”

Andean sneered, glaring over his wickedly-curved beak.

She mulled over her thoughts, trying to order them into a tidy parade rather than an angry mob. “I understand your feelings of anger and frustration. But there are far more important things going on than your issues with my sister and me.”

Luna held her head high. She pointed at her cutie mark. “You see this symbol? You see this brand upon my coat, burning hotter than an iron? This is my promise to protect and watch over all those who need somebody to help them. To guide them through their dreams and allow them a chance to sleep soundly. To give them hope for a brighter tomorrow. My sister and I gave up our lives so that we could lead our people on to a fuller, happier life.”

Her ears tipped downward. “I forget that sometimes. When I do, people I care about get hurt.”

She sighed deeply, watching close as Andean’s expression hardened. “If I am a mother hen smothering her flock, it is because there are monsters outside that would devour the chicks that are so very precious to me. Do you not feel the same?”

Andean looked to Corona, who wrung her talons together. He reached out a foreleg to draw her closer. “How can I not?” He squeezed his daughter’s shoulder. “But I am not one of your chicks, Luna.”

“No,” Luna said, “Stella is.”

Andean’s face drooped. He combed his feathery beard with a talon and nodded.

“So the doctors will look after her. Once they find what’s wrong with her, they can administer treatment.” Luna bowed her head. “And whatever they prescribe, I shall make sure she gets what she needs.”

Andean sank into the waiting room’s hard couch. He pinched the bridge of his beak. “I already know what’s wrong with her, Luna. Why do you think I grasped so desperately for ambrosia?”

Luna perked her ears forward, drawing her wings to her flanks. “What is it?”

“My Queen… my wife…” Andean turned to his daughter. “Fayr died when Stella was only four. She had a disease of the bones, in the very marrow. She would get aching pain in her limbs; exhaustion at all hours of the day. She grew ill and could not fight it.”

Luna wiped a tear away. “Now Stella has it, too?”

“Aye.” Andean gripped the armrest. His claw tips dug into the fabric. “Our doctors believe it to be hereditary. It’s like… a poison that won’t let go.”

Luna sat on the floor, pressing her lips tight. “Do you know the source of this disease?”

Andean ruffled his wings. “Our doctors have yet to find a way to fight—”

They were interrupted by a knock. The three of them turned to see Dr. Fine standing in the doorway. “King Ursagryph? I have news of your daughter.”

Andean stood up and glared at the griffon guard. “Let him in.”

Dr. Fine made his way cautiously into the waiting room. He had a strong face on, showing just a hint of concern. He bowed to both Luna and Andean. “Your Majesty. Your Grace.”

“Spit it out, stallion,” Andean said, his voice weary.

Dr. Fine’s knees trembled as he faced the enormous griffon. “Sir, your daughter has Acute Leukemia.”

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” Andean hissed.

“It’s a cancer, Andean,” Luna said. “It means her body’s cells are not working as they should.”

Andean lifted a fist. He pointed one sharp claw at Dr. Fine. “Well, if you know what it is, begin administering the ambrosia!”

Dr. Fine swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, sir, but—”

“Are you waiting for permission?” Andean’s throat rumbled. “Then I give it! Give her the ambrosia so that she can be cured!”

Luna touched a wingtip to his shoulder. “Andean, please—!”

Andean’s voice came out as a bellowing lion’s roar. “What?”

The waiting room clock ticked loudly in the ensuing silence. Luna chewed her lower lip. “Andean, ambrosia sooths pain and aids in cellular reproduction. It is used to mend wounds, not cure illnesses.”

Corona peeked out from underneath her father’s chest. “Then why can’t it work?”

“Cancer happens when the body fights against itself.” Luna knelt down and brought her head to Corona’s level. “Some of Stella’s cells have been changed into something bad. If you give her ambrosia, and speed up the creation of those cancer cells…” She let out a heavy breath. “It would cause her to fade even faster.”

Andean’s talons scraped the linoleum floor. His knees wobbled. “Oh, Creator—”

He slumped back against the wall. His wings bunched up behind him, sending black feathers fluttering everywhere. He stared at Luna with his beak agape, a horrific pain spreading through his chest.

He thought about his campaign for ambrosia, the coveted medicine of the breezies. He thought about how hard he’d grasped at it, with no success. He thought about the wickedness he had contemplated just to get near it.

He thought about what he’d almost done to his daughter.

King Andean Ursagryph cradled his head in his talons and wept.

***

“Twilie?”

Twilight Sparkle opened her eyes. She sucked in a greedy breath through a parched throat. She coughed, but there wasn’t much force behind it. She blinked against the shining lights all around her, muddled with colorful blots.

“Twilight?” A blue blob moved as a distant voice echoed in her ear. “Twilight, you up? Can you hear me?”

Twilight shifted her head and let her cheek lay on her fluffy pillow. She tried to hum a weak “Mm hmm,” but her throat wouldn’t cooperate. Instead, she did her best to nod.

“Yes!” the blob said. “I knew you could pull through! Never doubted you for a…heh heh… minute.”

Rainbow Dash, Twilight realized. She gave the mare an appreciative smile. She didn’t have the strength for much else.

Twilight’s eyes focused a bit more. She could pick out distinct shapes. It was Rainbow Dash, alright, colorful, messy mane and all. Shining Armor stood on the other side of the bed, his face stony, but his eyes bright.

“There you are, Twilie,” he said. “How’re you feeling?”

Twilight lolled her tongue out in response.

Shining cracked a grin. “I can’t blame you.”

A pink blot at the edge of the bed came into soft focus. Princess Cadenza reached up to lay a hoof on Twilight’s foreleg. “Welcome back.”

Twilight couldn’t ignore the telltale damp streaks on her sister-in-law’s face. She reached across her body to rub Cadenza’s pink hoof. She tried to say “hi,” but all that came out was an airy whisper.

Cadenza nudged Shining with her wing. “You’re probably thirsty, aren’t you, Twilight?”

Shining looked at his wife with a raised eyebrow. A moment later, both shot up his brow. “Uh. Right! I was getting that.”

He fumbled around on a nearby table, filling a glass and trying to open a straw’s wrapper.

Cadenza sighed. “Magic, Shiny.”

Shining Armor paused just before trying to grip the cup between his hooves. He swallowed hard, a pink blush overtaking his cheeks. “Yeah. Sorry, Cadence, just… thinking.”

“Thinking is hazardous to your health,” Rainbow Dash snickered.

Twilight lidded her eyes and drew her mouth into a thin line.

“It was a joke, Twi.” Rainbow settled down into a small smile. “But you knew that, didn’t you?”

Twilight wanted to say “Yes, but it wasn’t a very good one,” but she couldn’t put any energy into her voice. She sighed as Cadence inclined her bed, letting her sit up. Shining carried the cup in a pink glimmer and held it in front of her mouth. She sipped clear, cool, beautiful liquid from the straw.

Her neck itched. She reached up to scratch it, but Rainbow Dash stopped her hoof halfway up. “No, no, no. Don’t touch it. Doctor’s orders.”

Twilight shifted her head. She felt a large bandage rub against her coat. Numbness ran through her rear left leg. The tip of her ear felt strange. A dozen or so cuts and scrapes were all that remained of deep gashes and painful avulsions. She tried again to speak, and again let out only a slight hiss.

Her eyes widened. The bandage on her neck. The lack of strength in her throat. It added up, but she didn’t like the sum. She put her tongue against the top of her mouth and formed words with her lips. “Shah-Shining!”

Her loudest word was a whisper. Her vocals chords were unresponsive, if she even still had them at all. She clenched her jaw and smacked the mattress with a weak paff.

“Easy, Twi!” Rainbow Dash grabbed her forelegs and held them tight. “What’s wrong? What’s the matter?”

Twilight squirmed under her covers. “Can’t spea—I can’t speak—”

Cadence frowned, knitting her eyebrows together. “I’m sorry, Twilight, I can’t understand you.”

“Shh!” Shining came up to the side of the bed and leaned close, one ear swiveled towards his little sister. “Say that again, Twilight. What’s wrong?”

Twilight sniffed as tears came to her eyes. “I c-can’t,” she wheezed, “I can’t talk.”

Shining’s ear twitched. “I’m… not sure I understand.”

“Her voocal cords hev been severed,” a high-pitched voice trilled. The ponies turned their heads to watch a tiny breezie fly in on thin, transparent wings. His green coat was a shade too bright to go with his orange tail. Rather than a mane, a long, trailing, curly beard hung off his face.

Twilight wiped her eyes. She thought the beard looked like it was holding on for dear life.

“Dr. Summerwind,” Rainbow Dash groaned. “Twilight, this is the guy who’ll be looking after you for a while. Joy.”

The breezie landed on Twilight’s bed and trotted his way up the sheets. His lanky legs pattered across the fabric. “The ambrosia deed ets job healing her injuries. The scar tissue has foolly closed oop the wound in her neck. Hooever, that has left her widout working voocal cords.”

“I can’t take this guy seriously.” Rainbow Dash scrunched her muzzle. “Like, literally. Why can’t you just go in and fix her vocal cords, huh? Aren’t you supposed to be the best doctor in Equestria?” She glanced at Cadence. “And the neighboring territories?”

“Et’s noot that simple,” he said, his little face wrinkling. “Et would be a very invasive, very dangerous surgery. Weeth leetle to no chance of success. There is nooting left to work weeth.”

The lump in Twilight’s throat grew firmer. She tried to cough, but only a woosh of air came out.

Summerwind tapped his hoof against her elbow. “There, there. Doon’t geeve up hoope. In time, the wound weell heeal. When that happens, eyew may geet eyewr voocal cords back.”

He glanced back out the door. He looked up at Shining Armor and Cadenza. “Time weell heal her. Right now, I am very concerned weeth the oother patient.”

Cadenza’s wings flared out. “I-is there change in Celestia?”

“Eyes.” Summerwind shook his head. “And et’s noot good.”

Shining and Cadence looked at each other.

“You guys go ahead,” Rainbow said. “I’ll stay here with Twilight until you get back.”

“Thank you.” Cadenza extended a wing. “If you would, Doctor?”

Summerwind hopped on. The three of them—the doctor, Shining, and Cadence—hurried out the door, making way for another room deep in the Crystal Palace.

Twilight stared after them, every fiber of her being wishing she could follow. She felt a sting on her foreleg and noticed the intravenous drip attached to a vein. She spread aching, stiff wings.

“You, um, need anything, Twilight?” Rainbow Dash leaned against the bed. “I’ll get you whatever you need. Just… name it… Or, like—” She leaped into the air. “I got it! Hold up.”

She disappeared below the bed and rummaged through a saddlebag. When she popped back up, she held a notepad in front of Twilight. “Here’s what I use to write to Scootaloo. I’ve got a neat-o retractable pen, too. Good stuff. Maybe you can write with this until you get better, right?”

Twilight Sparkle took the pad between her hooves. The pen clattered on top of it an instant later.

“S-so just write out what you want.” Rainbow Dash hovered, doing her best not to disturb the nearby medical instruments with her wing beats. “It doesn’t matter if you’re out of practice with mouthwriting. You can’t have worse penmanship than I do!”

Twilight couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. They dribbled down her face and plopped onto the paper.

Rainbow Dash rubbed her hooves together. “So what do you need?”

Twilight set the pad and pen beside her. She held her forelegs out to Dash.

Rainbow put her feet on the ground. She leaned over the bed and wrapped Twilight in a warm embrace. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, I can do that. I got one right here.”

She let Twilight cry into her shoulder, rocking her back and forth.

***

“Most of the treatments we have for cancer are harsh,” Dr. Fine said. “Very hard on the body. Chemicals, radiation, and the like. However, there is a fledgling treatment we’ve just put into use.”

Andean sat quietly, listening closely to the doctor. He twiddled his talons for lack of anything better to do. “What is the treatment?”

“It’s a new surgical technique used mostly for amputees.” Dr. Fine allowed himself a proud smile. “Entire limbs can be removed and reattached as easily as casting a spell. It was, oddly enough, inspired by Discord’s actions when he escaped his prison ten years ago. He removed horns and wings with no lasting damage to the individual—”

“Doctor, please.” Luna leaned past Andean’s slumped shoulder. “How does this help Stella?”

Dr. Fine harrumphed. “By repurposing the spell slightly, we may be able to grasp the damaged cells and phase them right through the uncorrupted tissue, thus removing the cancer. No knives, just enough anesthetic to keep her under, and Stella can return to Felaccia in just a few weeks.”

“‘Fledgling treatment?’ ‘May be able?’” Andean shook his head. “Doctor, my daughter is not a science experiment.”

“No, but she is in a later stage of her illness.” Dr. Fine looked between the two rulers. “Forgive me for saying it, but the time for action is now.”

Andean rubbed his face. He blinked his reddened eyes. “What are our other options?”

“Limited. We could start the chemo immediately, but…” Dr. Fine glanced at Luna. “From what I hear, the facilities in Felaccia aren’t equipped for that sort of thing. She’d have to remain in Canterlot indefinitely.”

Luna rested her foreleg against Andean’s folded wings. “A friend of mine recently underwent this surgery with marvelous results. I can also attest for Dr. Hefty Fine’s abilities. He’s the best unicorn in the business.”

Andean closed his talons around his two smooth, magnetic stones. “No harm will come to my daughter. Swear it.”

Before the doctor could speak, Luna stepped between them. “I will give my word. Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.”

Andean tilted his head. Luna was able to summon a half-smile. “Believe me when I say it is a very, very big promise. It will work out, Andean. If not with this surgery, then we will find another way. And another. And we will not stop fighting until the battle is won.”

Andean tossed his rocks into the air. They met at the apex of their flight and clattered back into his grasp. “Won by whom?”

He waved a wing as he stood up. “Do it. Save my daughter. You have my blessing.”

“Absolutely, King Ursagryph.” Dr. Fine stood up and walked towards the room where Stella slept.

Andean lumbered to a window and watched the midmorning sun. He rested his forehead against the glass pane. “I’ve been fighting so long. Only to lose that which I’ve been fighting for.”

He tensed his biceps. “I fear it might kill me, Luna. Not in the physical realm, but I would truly be dead.”

Luna came alongside him. She squinted her eyes against the bright light. “Now is not the time to give in, or to contemplate defeat. Now is the time to renew your resolve. To remember why you’re fighting. To remember that the enemy is not impossible to stop.”

She faced her ears forward and snapped her hooves to attention. “To discover that the battle is much easier when fought with friends.”

Andean wrinkled his forehead. He drew back from the window and looked to Luna. She met his gaze with an even, strong stare. He snarled, drawing a growl from the depths of his heart. “Then let us discuss the monster who would dare face such powerful allies.”

***

“Cousin Blueblood, where are you going?”

Blueblood looked down at the silvery, crystalline colt trotting along beside him. The young stallion’s white mane, streaked with his father’s trademark blue, was curled at the ends like his mother’s. “Am I not allowed to walk around, Lance?”

Silver Lance walked underneath Cadence’s outstretched wing. His strawberry-colored eyes peered suspiciously at Blueblood. “It’s weird you’re walking around the part of the palace where Celestia’s staying.”

“Oh?” Blueblood tossed his blond mane and gave Cadence a pointed look. “Why would that be odd? Is the area off-limits to the royal family, now?”

“Dad said you didn’t want to see her.” Silver Lance furrowed his brow. “That’s weird by itself, because she’s your aunt. But then you start walking down the corridor towards her room. You changing your mind is twice as weird. So it’s weirdness times weirdness which equals…” He pulled his mouth to one side. “Double-weird.”

“Leave Cousin Blueblood alone, Lance,” Cadence said, bumping Silver in the side with a feather. “He’s had a rough few days.”

Blueblood curled his lips in a miniscule, hidden smile. “I see you inherited the dizzying Twilight-Family intellect. But you miss one key bit of information that unravels the weirdness: I was summoned to the High Princess’ room. By your mother, at that.”

Cadence moved her wingtip to sit behind her son and shoved him forward. “And you ought to go find your sister. Come on, breakfast is waiting.”

“Wait, Mom.” Silver trotted backwards as his mother steered him away from various tables and walls. “So if you didn’t want to see her and you’re going anyway, that means it’s really important. And if it’s really important, it’s either really good or really—”

“Lance, I would rather not have a play-by-play of my life.” Blueblood rounded a corner. “Deduce if you wish, but keep it inside your head—”

He almost ran smack-dab into Fleur. The two of them stepped back and turned away from each other. Blueblood turned to Caution, who guarded the doorway into the infirmary. The earth pony swung the door open, and allowed Fleur to step through first.

Blueblood looked down at Silver and noted the inquisitive look on the colt’s face. “Zip it.”

Silver trotted off with a flick of his tail. “I didn’t say anything, Cousin Blueblood.”

Blueblood snorted. “Indeed.”

He entered the room beside a hesitant Cadenza and found a seat along the edge of the wall. Fleur sat across the room, a meter or two away from where Shining kept a vigil at the bedside. The little breezie doctor Summerwind fluttered around the room, checking instruments and twisting dials. Skyhook stood inside the room, leaving it guarded from both sides of the entryway.

“I’m glad you could come,” Cadence told Blueblood. “It’s just… nice to have a little something familiar.”

Blueblood winced and tried to face away from the bed, while pretending he wasn’t. “Even if it’s me?”

“Well, Lyra couldn’t afford the ticket…” Cadence tried to laugh. She bit her lip and hopped forward, wrapping her wings around him. “I missed you, Cousin.”

Blueblood returned the hug with a gentle pat. “I missed you, too.”

Celestia lay motionless on the bed, a weak pulse registering on the monitor. Mechanical lungs pumped air into her lungs, while precious ambrosia dripped into her bloodstream.

“The brain activity is steell strong,” Summerwind said, “boot the pulse is weakening.”

Shining frowned, wrapping his foreleg around Cadence as she sat beside him. “She’s dying. Why?”

“The magic of the alicorns is steell very alien to us.” Summerwind landed on a machine that whirred and clicked as it produced a rolled sheet of data. “Et is oobviously what has been keeping the princess alive all this time. Boot like all magic, et is produced by the heart.” He gestured to Celestia’s bed. “Soometing that is in short supply for her. The magic is running out.”

Fleur gasped. “And when it runs out—”

“I can oonly speculate that there weell be noo moore Celestia.” Summerwind crossed his forelegs. “That is soometing I cannot let happen! She needs a heart transplant!”

Blueblood felt something twist in his gut. “What sort of heart could sustain a mare that powerful? Unless you have any alicorn hearts lying around, I fail to see how she could return to her duties.”

“Eyes, well…” Summerwind stroked his fluffy beard. “That’s the catch.”

Nopony moved for a long, stifling moment.

“We could save her life,” Blueblood ventured, “but leave her a mere shadow of an alicorn.”

Fleur brought her tail into her lap and brushed it to occupy her mind. “She should have been long gone, Husband. Anything beyond that is a miracle and a gift—”

“A miracle! A gift!” Blueblood’s mane slapped his shoulder as he shook his head. “A miracle would be for her heart to just grow back! But it can’t, can it? No, we need to do something big and terrifying and dangerous!”

He held his forelegs out. “Cousin, Shining, do either of you have an excess in hearts somewhere? No? Well, shame. Seems we need to take her right back to Equestria!”

“Blueblood!” Cadence said. “Now is not the time to get angry.” She turned back to Summerwind. “We’ll contact Equestria. Their organ-donor program is stronger than ours right now.”

Shining cast Blueblood a dirty glance behind his wife’s back. “How long do they have to look?”

Summerwind’s wings and antennae drooped. “I fear she has less than a fortnight.”

Blueblood thumped back against the chair. He ran his hooves through his mane, shutting his eyes tight against a throb in his skull. He stood up and cantered to the door.

“Where are you going?” Shining asked.

Blueblood looked over his shoulder. “I need a drink.” He left, bumping his shoulder against Skyhook on the way out.

Cadence started after him, but Fleur held a hoof out. She stood up and shuffled her slender legs. “I’ll… see to him. I’ll make sure he… doesn’t make too big a mess.”

The door clicked behind her.

Cadence rubbed her forehead and groaned. “I’m ready for bed.”

“We just got up,” Shining said.

“I’m ready for bed right now.”

***

Care Carrot galloped through the front doors of Ponyville’s castle. She swiveled her head back and forth, searching for hide or hair of Blankety. Realizing that the building was a great deal bigger than a single room, she sighed and began to plod along. “Blank? Blank! Where are you? I need to tell you something!”

She peeked into the kitchens. “Blankety Blank?”

The kitchens were occupied, but not by the changeling. Spike stood at the stove in a frilly pink apron, whipping up a fried-egg breakfast. He lifted his head just long enough to see who it was. “You want an egg, Captain?”

“No thanks.” Care poked her head in the room. “You seen Blank around anywhere?”

“Yeah, passed him in the hallway.” With an expert flick of his wrist, Spike slid the eggs onto a plate. “He and Time Turner were saying something about grabbing breakfast in town.”

Care took a seat at the table and let her chin thump to the wood. “I’m guessing you didn’t get any specifics?”

“Nadda. Sorry.”

“It’s alright.” Care undid her ponytail and let her green mane hang loose. “It’s just that my timing is as bad as my tact.”

“Is it time-sensitive information?” Spike pulled out the chair across from her. “I could probably find somepony to track them down.”

She waved him off. “No. No, I’ll see him at the celebration tonight. Assuming he goes to it.”

Spike stabbed a fork in the yolk. He lifted the dribbling, yellow egg to his mouth. “Why wouldn’t he?”

“Uh.” Care froze up as she searched her mind for what could and should not be shared. “Just a, um, quirk he has, I guess. Might not like Nightmare Night. I dunno.”

Spike lidded his eyes. “Smooth.”

“Whadda yah want? I’m a guard, not a spy.” Care held her head in her hooves. “Though I seem to be doing underhanded things all the time nowadays.”

Spike toasted a slice of bread with an exhale. “It’s not too late for a career change.”

Care frowned. “Har, har. If I’ve learned one thing in all this, it’s that skullduggery is a real pain in the butt.”

Spike popped open a can of apple butter. He gave it a loving sniff before spreading it over his toast. “Why? What sorta craziness have you guys gotten yourselves into?”

“You mean besides sneaking into the locked archives?”

“That was you—?” Spike snorted. “Well, that explains the news yesterday, then.”

Care’s eyes widened. “The news?”

“Yeah. They said something about two groups of ponies beating the snot out of each other in the library.” Spike lifted his fists next to his face and threw a punch. “Sounds like a good old-fashioned barroom brawl without the alcohol.”

Care ground her molars together, leaning her head back in an exaggerated eye-roll. “I’m pretty sure Daring was drunk.”

“Who?”

“Uh—” Care sucked her lips in. “I said Yearling.”

Spike crossed his arms.

“I’m pretty sure she’s always drunk. On something.” Care coughed into her hoof. “What kinda clearance level do you have, anyway?”

Spike kept his eyebrows level. The edge of his lip trailed upward. “I always know something between too much and too little. Twilight and I hung around the Starswirl Wing like we owned the place. I thought Celestia’s personal guard would have a high enough clearance to enter the archives.”

“Not especially.” Care raised a hoof before lowering it to the table. “Y—I know a lot and can do a lot, but I’m not exactly on her defense council.”

“Just security, then?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, I can’t argue against sneaking in, since that would be a real pot and kettle moment,” Spike said. “It’s not just a cloak and dagger thing, Care. Being in close proximity to any of the princesses leads to a little sneaking around.”

He scooped up the first few bites of his eggs. “So what’re you dressing up as for Nightmare Night?”

Care smirked, looking upwards in thought. “Radiance, my favorite hero from the Power Ponies.”

“Awesome!” Spike tapped his fork against the plate. “Didja hear that they’re gonna start filming the movie in a couple months? I hear they’re campaigning to get Rainbow Dash to play Zap.”

Care crossed her forelegs. “Didja know you were swerving away from the ‘sneaking into the archives’ story on purpose?”

Spike gave her a sheepish smile and swallowed. “Can yah blame me? I hardly know what’s a secret and what’s not anymore.”

Care laughed. “The princesses need to make a flowchart or something.”

“Twilight can get right on that.” Spike picked up his plate and made his way to the sink. “Just as soon as she wakes—”

He finished that thought with a sudden flame-fueled burp. The smoke swirled in the air, drawing swirls around the kitchen. Spike reached his hand into the midst and pulled out a rolled up, wax-sealed scroll. Spike’s eyes widened; the seal held Princess Mi Amore Cadenza’s cutie mark.

He ripped it open and scanned the letter. His smile widened as he read on. “She’s awake. She’s finally awake!”

Care leaned over the back of her seat. “Who?”

“Twilight! She’s gonna be okay!” Spike jumped up and landed with a table-rattling thud, waving the letter in the air. “She’s awake! Woo-hoo!”

He ran off in the direction of the exercise room, his footsteps shaking the stained glass windows. Care watched him go for a while, then shrugged. She jumped up to follow him at a gallop.

“Mom! Aunt Yearling!” Spike burst through the door to find the two sparring. Twilight Velvet turned her head, giving Daring Do the opportunity to sucker punch her.

Velvet glared at her friend before turning back to Spike. “What’s up? What’ve you got?”

“Twilight’s awake!” Spike waved the scroll in her face. “Cadence just wrote a letter! Look! Look!”

Velvet gripped it in a quick spell. She scanned down the page. “Did you read it?”

“Yeah!” Spike blinked. “Kinda. Mostly. The first sentence or two. I kinda wanted to read it with you guys.”

Twilight Velvet nodded. Her face grew darker as the letter went on. “She’s alive. That’s what’s important.”

“Wow.” Daring Do leaned against Velvet in an attempt to see. “If you’re saying stuff like that, it’s gotta be bad.”

Care Carrot skidded to a halt just inside the room. She shuffled her feet as she saw the three of them read with pronounced frowns. “Sorry. I’ll be back later.”

“No,” Twilight Velvet held up a hoof. “Stay. This concerns you, too.”

Spike wrung his hands together. He looked up at Care, holding back sizzling tears. “Twilight’s alive, but hurt. And…” He nibbled his scaly lip. “Something’s gone wrong with Celestia.”

Care scrambled forward. She balanced on her hind legs to see over Velvet’s and Daring’s heads. Her eyes ran down the letter in a race against her heartbeat. “A transplant? For an alicorn? That’s… that’s stupid!”

Daring Do rolled her eyes. “And you’re suddenly a medical professional.”

“If she had just a regular unicorn’s heart—or pegasus or earth pony or whatever—she wouldn’t be able to raise the sun!” Care clomped down to all fours. “It’s just basic logic! It’ll leave her weak and—”

“Captain!” Twilight Velvet snapped.

Care jumped to attention from sheer instinct. She kept her eyes trained forward, her ears listening in rapt concentration.

Velvet sighed. She rubbed dampness from her eyes and wiped it against her chest. “Do you have any better ideas?”

Care searched her mind, wracking her brain for anything that could get a better solution. Anything that could fix it. Even a little. “No, Ma’am.”

Spike took the letter back from Velvet. He rolled it up and gripped the page tight.

Twilight Velvet peeled the boxing wraps from her hooves. “They’re doing everything they can, so we need to do everything we can. I think it’s about time we looked at those books of yours, Yearling.”

Daring Do gulped down a breath. She threw Velvet a mock-salute. “I’ll get my thinking cap on.”

Velvet touched Spike’s shoulder. “Would you take notes with us?”

“Sure.” Spike stuffed the scroll in his ever-present satchel of writing utensils. “Of course.”

Twilight Velvet looked Care up and down. She jerked her head towards the library. “If you don’t have anything better to do, you can join us. Otherwise, see you later.”

Care stood still until the three of them left. She sat down hard, the afterimages of the letter burned into her mind. “Seems like we never make any progress.”

She looked to the dim, covered window on the wall. She could try to find Blankety and apologize, or she could try to be helpful while they researched. But she wasn’t much of a scholar, and she didn’t know the city all that well… And if he was kinda-sorta commiserating with Turner or something…

“Aw, heck with it.” She had decided to talk to Blankety, so by golly she was gonna find Blankety. If she interrupted something, she could apologize later. If not, it was a win-win. She set off at a brisk canter. “I’m gonna settle at least one problem.”

***

Shining Armor trotted down the hall, leaving Skyhook to lock the door to Celestia’s room. The bat-pony folded his wings against his purple armor. “That went well.”

“Sarcasm don’t become you, mate,” Caution Tape said. “But oi ain’t sayin’ you’re wrong.”

Skyhook swiveled his feathery ears, catching no sign of anypony but the two of them in the hallway. “You were there the night of the first attack, weren’t you?”

“Aye.” Caution sucked in a breath. “Not a night oi remember lightly, even if oi spent most of it knocked on moi bum.”

Skyhook smirked humorlessly. “I don’t blame you. Seems like things have just been getting worse and worse since then.”

“There is that.” Caution looked at the bat-pony out of the corner of his eyes. “Sometimes, we gorra go through the darkness before we c’n bask in the light. Get refined in flame, so the sayin’ goes. Oi get the feelin’ that whatever Equestria comes out the other end o’ this pile o’ nonsense, it’ll be far stronger for it.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Stark-ravin’ optimism, mate!” Caution chuckled. “It’s about all us earth ponies have goin’ for us!”

“Care to spread the optimism to the other tribes occasionally?” Skyhook glanced over his shoulder, reassuring himself that the door was closed, locked, and not hiding an errant assassin or two. “I’ll trade you for two pints of pessimism.”

“Oi think oi’ll pass on that.”

Skyhook shifted his shoulders, clinking the plates of his armor. He looked down the passageway, which remained empty despite the chill in his spine. “Care said that you were gonna take three months leave. What changed your mind?”

“Care said that, eh?” The faint smile left Caution’s eyes. “Aye, oi was. Was enjoyin’ it, too, right up until oi got a wakeup call durin’ Princess Twilight’s assassination. Once oi realized the problem weren’t gonna sort itself out, weren’t much for it but to return to duty.”

Skyhook’s ears drooped down. “So what will sort it out?”

Caution lifted an eyebrow. “A few brave souls doin’ their duty.”

Skyhook gave him a quick smile. He took a steadying breath and let his wings stretch out. “So what do you think of her?”

“Who?”

“Care.”

Caution grinned. “Gets abrasive sometimes. Pretty good soldier. Great fighter; even outclasses me when the chips are down.” He danced his eyebrows. “Or were yah lookin’ more for ‘smart, attractive young mare who likes long walks on the beach’?”

Skyhook grimaced. “No need to put so fine a point on it.”

“You bat-pony types ain’t as sneaky as you think.” Caution waved a hoof. “Go on ahead an’ see if you don’t get along. You ain’t gonna get any interference from me. Oi’m darn near twice as old as her!

His eyes took on a far-away look. “An’ oi only had one mare who ever captured moi heart.”

“Didn’t know you were married.”

“Oi’m not!” Caution laughed. “It was a long time ago. Still…” He thumped his chest. “You find the right one, tends tah stick with yah.”

Skyhook bobbed his head. His slit pupil jumped to Caution. “You and she still close?”

“We were very close… but… Seems like she’s worlds away right now.” Caution narrowed an eye at Skyhook. “Look at me, oi’m writin’ country music now.”

Skyhook clenched his jaw to suppress a smile. “Oh, how do I remember the face I can’t forget?”

Caution’s grin spread wide. “Shut up, you.”

Armor clanked at the far end of the hall. Skyhook snapped his wings out and scuffed his hoof across the floor. When he actually got a glimpse of the ponies trotting towards him, he relaxed. “Sturm. Drang.”

“Sir.” The burly guards stood at attention. “We’re here to relieve you, Commander. Lieutenant.”

“Thanks, boys.” Caution rolled his shoulders and relaxed his grip on his spear. “You keep an eye on her, you hear?” He prodded Skyhook in the side. “An’ you get yourself some rest! You look like you ain’t slept a wink.”

“Little did you know,” Skyhook said, “I’ve slept two winks.”

“Pardon the heck outta me.” Caution attached his spear to a strap across his back. “Get to bed and dream of feisty orange unicorns.”

When Skyhook disappeared around the corner, Caution’s smile vanished. He sized up the two guards at Celestia’s door. They were both heavily muscled, a head taller than he was. Young and spry. Devoted to a fault.

“You boys keep yourselves outta trouble.” Caution turned on his rear hooves and walked down the hallway. His hooves made loud clanks that echoed off the crystal walls. He caught his reflection several times in the mirrored surfaces. He was the same enchanted white and blond as every Royal Guard. But unlike most of them, he could see a weariness in his eyes that went beyond lack of sleep.

“So that’s it then?” he asked his reflection. “Two weeks to find a heart? Not much time, then.”

He narrowed his eyes. He didn’t like looking at them. They were a window to a soul he didn’t much like seeing. A soul he didn’t much like admitting that he had.

It was a soul that he had squandered.

Caution perked his ears as a crystal pony servant walked right past him. She didn’t notice him at all. She didn’t notice that he wasn’t supposed to be there. Nopony ever noticed the guard that wasn’t supposed to be there, because everypony knew his face.

Caution wasn’t sure he knew his own face. “Celestia…”

Celestia would die before two weeks were up. And she would have to die, Caution knew, by his own hoof.

“For a better tomorrow,” he said, and stormed off to the barracks.

Author's Note

And so, mystery starts to become intrigue.

Wounded

Hurricane shifted when the pony singing on the radio hit a high note. “Platinum? Are y—”

She opened her eyes to the modern-day world. The sun was already halfway on its journey to noon, lighting her room in a rich golden glow. Hurricane folded the covers away from her body and wiped her face. She had broken out in a cold sweat during the night, most likely when she had been visited by Nightmare Moon. A cold sweat for a cold victory.

The poison had found its way to the heart and could begin killing the body.

She spread her wings to air them out. She would need to spend time adjusting the good feathers and picking the dead ones. A ritual she performed every morning, as did most pegasi. But for her, it was especially vital; without pristine wings, she would be handicapped in combat. Her control over the wind would fade. Her maneuverability would take a hit. Her skill with wingblades would be nonexistent.

If she was to be the killing machine her master required her to be, she would have to undergo constant maintenance.

Her sky-blue legs bent as she rolled onto the floor. She dropped immediately into a set of wing-ups as the radio crackled on. She considered switching to the higher-quality stereo that Dulcimer had supplied, but didn’t want to give him the slightest hint of satisfaction. She thought through a few different ways she could wipe that conceited smirk from his face. Most of them were painful.

With the brief workout complete, she stretched her wings across her chest. Loose feathers settled on the floor for the manor’s servants to clean up. She slid into her private guest bathroom to wash the grime from her coat.

If there was one thing the modern day had over the past, it was showers. Hurricane relaxed as the heated water flowed over her body. She breathed deeply of the steam that turned the air into a thin cloudbank. She grimaced, her cheek twitching. There was only one unpleasant part of her morning routine…

She held her breath, shut her eyes, and pushed her head into the stream.

The scar on her cheek flared up in agony. She held back a scream as the water stung the old wound, and the soap felt as though it ate away at the decimated flesh. To the contrary, it was effectively cleaning out the horrific injury, clearing away dirt and infectious germs. Even after more than twenty years of recovery, the scar still acted as an open wound.

Well, twenty years plus however many she’d been banished.

She had shut off the water and begun to towel off when a hoof rapped against the door. “Enter.”

Zephyr shouldered his way into the room, his hefty yellow hooves thumping against the room’s carpet. He glanced into the bathroom, but turned away with a blush. “Sorry, Commander. Didn’t know you were getting settled.”

Hurricane shook her feathery mane. “In my day, the entire Elite Squadron bathed together as a matter of practicality. It’s odd that thou would feel shame simply being present.”

Zephyr smiled and chuffed. “I embarrass easily, Commander.”

“Verily?” Hurricane went to the counter, where a silver canister lay half-full with ambrosia. She poured a miniscule measure into a washcloth and daubed it against her scar. Her cheek cooled in an instant. She sprinkled a few drops into a shot glass and threw it back. “Then since you evidently did not come to watch me bathe, what purpose do you have?”

“We have our orders…” Zephyr rolled his shoulders and flicked his short, pink tail. “And they come directly from the Mother.”

“Merry Mare?” Hurricane’s wings snapped out. She turned to the stallion with wide eyes. “She never involves herself directly. It’s too dangerous.”

“She said it’s too important to leave to anypony else.” Zephyr’s wings twitched with a slight jolt of nervous energy. “She says that it’s time to acquire the mirrors.”

Hurricane marched out of the bathroom, her towel draped over her shoulders. She pulled a suitcase from beneath her bed and clicked it open to reveal the forty-nine wingblades within. She set to work preening and equipping the knives at the same time. “I received a message from the Master last night, saying the same thing. Do we know the location?”

“Yes.” Zephyr swallowed hard. “Ponyville Castle.”

Hurricane paused, her hooves on the lid. She slammed the case shut with a muffled curse. “I don’t suppose we need to convince Dulcimer that his security force should assault a castle?”

“Not nearly.” Zephyr sat on the ground beside her and held a message in his wingtips. “Scuttlebutt sent me this. Dulcimer is going to ask you to retrieve a book from the castle, and you are going to agree. Then we’ll be sent out with a full squad, and while some of us grab the book, the rest will secure the mirror.”

“A book?” Hurricane smoothed down a feather with her lips. “What sort of book does that dastard want?”

“You’ll have to ask him during your meeting.” Zephyr shredded Scuttlebutt’s message and dropped the bits into a wastebasket. He glanced at a clock on the wall. “He’s expecting you in a half-hour.”

Hurricane seethed. “We can’t very well keep the stallion waiting, can we?”

“Not if we want to keep up pretenses.” Zephyr stood up and stretched his neck. “Can I get you anything, Commander?”

“A trebuchet to launch Dulcimer out of.”

Zephyr grinned. “Anything within the realm of possibility?”

Hurricane ran her tongue along the tips of her teeth. Her eyes snapped to the strong pegasus beside her. “While I am in the meeting, find out what progress they’ve made on my custom armor set. I want to be able to wear it during the Ponyville mission, if at all possible.”

Zephyr bowed his head and made his way for the door.

“And, Zephyr…”

The burly stallion looked over his shoulder. Hurricane stood with a wing extended in a classic pegasus salute. “Thank you,” she said.

“No, thank you.” He returned the salute, a smile on his face. “You’re fighting to give the people the freedom they deserve. Without you, none of this would be possible.”

Hurricane looked away, craning her neck downward. “Yes. I know that much to be true.”

Zephyr’s hooves thumped as he turned his side to her. He gnawed his lip. “Are you alright, Commander?”

“Yes.” Hurricane gave him a resolute nod. “Yes. I will be strong, as ever.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Hurricane looked up. He returned the gaze with soft eyes and a slight frown. She felt a twinge in her chest. A spark. “Perhaps… another time. For now, we both have our missions.”

Zephyr bent a knee. “As you wish, Commander.”

Hurricane trotted back into the bathroom, rubbing her coat down with the damp towel. It had been a long time since she had a friend. A very, very long time.

Perhaps she could rely on Zephyr.

***

Hurricane stepped into the pool room, half expecting Dulcimer to be swimming around again. Instead, she found a banquet table set up in the middle of the room, beside the chlorinated water. A spell kept the chemical’s scent from interfering with the breakfast that had been set out. Blueberry pancakes sat beside orange slices, accompanied by a tall glass of cider. Dulcimer waited at one end of the table, dressed in a slick tuxedo.

“Good morning,” he said with a smile. “I was happy to hear you were willing to join me. I hope we can finally put our differences aside. Start over, perhaps. I really think this business partnership could go amazing places.”

Soft music drifted from a nearby record player. Dulcimer lit his horn, sparking three tall candles to life. He pulled the chair out and motioned for her to sit in it. “I don’t often go to such great lengths to make breakfast, but I figure life’s better when you can splurge. Don’t you agree?”

Hurricane bit back a venomous remark and trotted up to the far side of the table. “What dost thou want?”

Dulcimer scratched his goatee. He shrugged and slid into the seat. “Although you didn’t attack the airship Blueblood was on, I was very impressed with how you handled the operation.”

“If thou wish for me to finish the job, thou shall have to find him, first.” Hurricane took a large bite out of a pancake. “He could be anywhere north of Fillydelphia.”

Dulcimer took a slow, nonchalant sip. “Since his wife bought a ticket to the Crystal Empire not three days ago, I suspect you’ll find him somewhere right around there.”

Hurricane’s heart rate thrummed up a notch. She kept her face even, letting nary a twitch show. “And is that my next target? The Empire?”

“Good guess, but not quite yet.”

“Then why bring it up?”

“It’s called a compliment. People give them to each other to show their appreciation.” Dulcimer’s seat creaked as he shifted his weight. “I have a slightly more local problem that needs a little tender, loving care. My other employees have failed to acquire a specific book, so it falls to me to pick the best mare for the job.”

Hurricane bit down on an orange, sucking the juice through the pulp. “Have thou considered checking the local library?”

Dulcimer smiled, with just a hint of a snarl. “That’s what I like about you, Hurricane. Always kidding around. Yes, actually, but it ended with the same amount of success as any other attempt.”

Hurricane drank deeply of the hot cider, setting down the empty mug with a bang. “Then what is this all-important book, and where will I find it?”

“You’ve probably never heard of it,” Dulcimer said, polishing a hoof on his tuxedo coat. “It’s the Grimoire Alicorn. They’re keeping it at the Ponyville castle.”

Hurricane’s body froze.

Her wings leaped out as she slammed her hooves against the table top. Her plate careened off into the pool from the force of her blow. She glared at Dulcimer, her gray eyes hard as stone and hot as magma. “What do you want with that?” she said, her voice barely below a scream.

Dulcimer’s small smile blossomed into a grin. “So you have heard of it.”

“But… but it was destroyed long ago…” Hurricane slumped into her chair, her white mane dancing in wisps around her face. “It had to have been. Clover—”

“Was too clever for her own good.” Dulcimer leaned forward, cupping his chin in his hooves. “Legend has it she studied it for the rest of her days, trying everything she could to unravel its secrets. She poured a lot of her soul into that thing.” He shrugged, shutting his eyes lightly. “Medowbrook even hypothesized that she finished the tome herself, long after Sombra was imprisoned. Who’s to say, except the one who owns it?”

Hurricane tried to fold her wings, but they popped right back out. They shook with irrepressible fury. “What dost thou want with it?”

“I’ve always seen Clover as a sort of role model.” Dulcimer’s horn glowed, lifting a fork and a knife to slice his breakfast at a leisurely pace. “Ever inquisitive, always seeking power in its purest for—”

Spittle flew from Hurricane’s mouth. “What dost thou want with the Grimoire, thou addle-brained vermin?”

“Mind your tone.” Dulcimer clicked his tongue, shaking his fork at her. “We’re all dastards here, after all.”

“It is an evil tome,” Hurricane said, “crafted for wicked purposes and used for monstrous deeds.”

“Oh, how would you know?”

“Because I was there when it was written!”

Hurricane stood on her chair, her wings dangerously close to flinging wingblades at the next thing that moved. Dulcimer took another piece of pancake and popped it into his mouth. He raised an eyebrow, as if she had only said something mildly odd. “And…?”

Hurricane sat down in a rush. Her wings drooped at her sides, mirroring her ears. “You know… who I am.”

“I know lots of things, Commander Hurricane of Fort Everfree.” Dulcimer took a relished bite of an orange. “Lots of things.”

He laid a pink hoof on the table as he waved the orange slice like a conductor’s baton. “I know about your friendship with Princess Platinum. I know about those wingblades you get from Felaccia. I know about your long and storied history with the late, great King Sombra. I know that the book was mostly written in an attempt to make you and the king alicorns… but that it failed, for the most part.”

Dulcimer chuckled at Hurricane’s slacked jaw. “Don’t be too surprised. It’s all stuff that can be inferred from the writings of those who saw the Grimoire. All of it’s out there, save for one thing…”

He tipped his horn to the three candles. One lit up yellow, the second red, and the third blue. “Sombra had one last experiment up his sleeves, one that had a great chance of succeeding. He was interrupted by the Royal Pony Sisters before he could complete it. The instructions are in that book, Hurricane.” He pulled the flames from their wicks and brought them together, uniting them into a single white flare. “But you knew that part, too, didn’t you?”

A wingblade sliced through the fire on its way to his head.

“Stop,” Dulcimer said. The blade halted as the fire ceased to blaze. He trotted around the table until he was beside Hurricane, who stood on her hind legs, her face a cauldron of rage and her wings pulled back, ready to fling more knives.

Her feathers fluttered as one second slowly, inexorably, trickled by.

Dulcimer reached up, took her head in his hooves, and smashed her nose to the table. He did so again, then pushed her into the pool. He stood at the water’s edge and cleared his throat. “Go.”

Time resumed its normal pace with a splash. Blood mingled with foam as Hurricane thrashed. Her head ripped free of the surface with a panicked scream, followed by a gargling breath. Her hoof found the pool’s edge and hauled her upwards.

Dulcimer stabbed the thrown blade into her foreleg. She screeched and fell back into the water. “I don’t have time for this, Hurricane. I need your cooperation, or I don’t need you at all.”

“I won’t let you!” Hurricane gasped. “I won’t let you become an alicorn! I’ll destroy all the false alicorns!”

“And just who are you to say what makes or breaks an alicorn?” Dulcimer paced along the edge, his hooves snapping against the marble floor. “You can’t even keep one in the grave.”

He settled down beside the ladder. “You can either agree, on your word as a commander, to do the job, or I will kill you where you flounder. The choice is yours. End everything you fight for, or muster up the courage for yet another job. What’ll it be?”

Hurricane sunk to the bottom of the pool. She squared her hooves on the smooth surface, turning her gaze upwards. She spread her wings, gritted her teeth, and leaped. She twisted as she rose and drew the water around her like a rising whirlpool. Her body crashed out of the surface, showering Dulcimer with droplets. A water spout hung beneath her as her wings churned up the air, ready to grab her wingblades and chop the stallion to pieces.

“Hurricane!”

Zephyr galloped up behind Dulcimer, one hoof held out. He shook his head violently, gasping out words. “Commander, please. It’s our mission. We have our mission. We need to do as he says.”

Hurricane met his eyes. Her scowl softened. The wind died down, returning the water to the pool. She bit down on the blade stuck in her limb and ripped it out.

The bloody weapon clattered at Dulcimer’s hooves. “Thou hast my word as Commander of Fort Everfree,” she said, “I will complete the mission. Regardless of how I feel about thy intentions.”

She dove at him, halting mere inches short of his face. “But understand this: It takes a power far greater than thine to stay my wings.”

Dulcimer shrugged. “If said higher power says ‘do as Dulcimer told you,’ who am I to disagree?” He leaned his head back. “Isn’t that right, Zephyr?”

Zephyr’s ears lay back. The fur on his back stood up. He shuffled a step backward. “Well… I would assume, sir.”

Dulcimer reached up to pat Zephyr on the shoulder. He flicked his horn and floated the last few orange slices behind him. “You two better suit up if you want to beat the holiday rush. I hear Nightmare Night in Ponyville is a doozey.”

The doors shone with magic and shut behind him.

Hurricane seethed. “I could have torn his fool head clean off.”

Zephyr released the pent-up tension with a deep breath. “And left us without funding for our coup?”

“Hailstones upon the coup! And hailstones upon Dulcimer!” She stomped a hoof and cracked the marble tiles. “What he plans goes far beyond any evil I can concoct—”

“More evil than executing prisoners?”

Hurricane ground her teeth together. She brushed her mane away from her eyes, letting the dampness drip down her back. “Yes. Far worse.”

Zephyr nodded. He rubbed the back of his neck and leaned against the table. “I can’t sleep anymore, Commander. I keep having nightmares of that airship. I’m caught onboard, or my mother is trapped, or it’s all children… The only thing that’s keeping me going is knowing that we’re making Equestria a better place. A freer place. One where the ponies can decide how they are to be ruled.”

Hurricane left red hoof marks as blood dripped from the wound in her foreleg. “Thou art not the only one with nightmares, Zephyr.”

“No. Of course not.” Zephyr bit his lip. He reached out his wing, hesitating before resting it on Hurricane’s back. “But what you told me on that airship, about moral corruption… isn’t it worth some evil now if it means the future is all the brighter? Can’t we tolerate Dulcimer a little longer?”

Hurricane daubed at her wound with the Blueblood estate’s good linins. “There’s always one more ‘airship.’ Always.”

She kicked out with a hind leg to send a chair clattering across the room. She sucked in a swift breath through her nose. “We shall attack Ponyville’s castle. We shall retrieve the mirror portal, as the Mother ordered, and Dulcimer’s book as well. But…”

She flared her wings out and pressed a hoof to Zephyr’s chest. “It has to be destroyed before it reaches Dulcimer’s grasp. It has to be burned, shredded, anything we can do to eliminate it! He can’t be allowed to add yet another false alicorn to the ruling class of Equestria! Promise me, Zephyr. Promise me thou shall help annihilate it!”

Zephyr winced, turning his face away from her. His mouth opened, and remained open for a long pause before he could speak. “Yes. I’ll see to its destruction personally. I promise.”

Hurricane nodded, letting her reddened hoof drop to the floor. She trotted across the pool room and made her way to her quarters. “What progress can thou share about my armor?”

“It’s not going to be ready,” he said, his hurried footsteps clattering behind her. “Not before tonight. They say they still need to calibrate the electromagnets. You’ll have to use the loan armor again.”

“So be it. I can handle an infiltration and extraction mission.” She kneaded her forehead with her wingtips. Her scar blazed red as chemically-cleansed water dripped across it. “There shall be no alicorns to slay tonight.”

Zephyr folded his wings tight against his back. “Maybe we can get through the night without casualties.”

Hurricane barked a laugh. “If that is to be the case,” she growled, “they had better stay out of our way.”

***

“Cowhide covers.” Daring Do held the Grimoire Alicorn at foreleg’s length. “Tasteful as always, Sombra.”

Spike let out a queasy groan. He scratched the information down on a handy notepad. “Noted. Anything else? Any portals to demonic dimensions? Alchemic formulas written in blood? A recipe for his mother’s spinach puffs?”

Twilight Velvet looked up from another book: A day-planner with Hurricane’s cutie mark on the cover. “An Archaic-to-Modern-Equish translator, maybe?”

“That’s what I’m here for.” Daring waved her off, opening the book with a careful flick of the page. “You just focus on dates and numbers and addresses and horseapples. I’ve got the history stuff well in hoof.”

She traced a hoof over the page, which depicted a fairly-average unicorn stallion. Fairy strings traced through his body, from his heart to his horn. A series of notes were written in the margins. “Says here that this is Sombra’s research into the creation of an alicorn. Writing style and spelling suggests this bit was written a few years before the Unification.” She skewed her mouth to the side. “That and how he’s writing about using alicorn powers to fight windigos.”

The next page held a sketch of a crystalline heart, surrounded by magic formulas. “Ahuh. I found the science, guys. Yay.”

Spike leaned over her shoulder. “Anything you can make sense of?”

“I’m pretty sure only Twilight Sparkle could make sense of this.” Daring tipped the book on its side. “Sombra’s formulas for the crystallization process. There’s a note here that says…” She blinked, bringing her eyebrows low. “It, uh, says it was a failure, but it’s written in a different hornwriting style. Somepony else did this.”

She flipped a few pages forward, scanned it, and then shuffled back. “It’s all throughout the book. There are two distinct hornwriting styles. Two different ponies worked on this.”

Spike’s pen flew in a flurry of information. “Does it say who?”

“When I find it, I’ll let you know.”

Twilight Velvet stifled a yawn and stretched her back. “Was it Hurricane?”

“Nah. This is hornwriting. There aren’t any of the shortcuts you might see from mouthwriting.” Daring Do grimaced as a familiar image came into view. “But speak of Tirek… Here’s the mare now.”

Hurricane was drawn in profile, fairy strings prominent in both her wings and her hooves. “The hybridization process, it says. They tried to make Hurricane an alicorn, but only succeeded in adding super strength to her already obnoxiously-broad list of abilities.”

The following page shut Daring Do up completely.

Spike hovered his pen over the paper. He nibbled his lip, wrinkling his nose in a mild scowl. “H’okay, one more question. What’s that?”

Daring Do stared quietly at the tiny bundle of flesh in the middle of the page, several arrows calling out specific bits of anatomy as they developed over the course of several months. “It’s a fetus.”

Her hooves trembled. Her eyes shot to the top of the page. “It’s Hurricane’s baby…”

Velvet laid a comforting hoof on Daring’s shoulder. The pegasus flinched away. “What do the notes say about the success rate?” Velvet asked.

“That it was a complete success…” Daring Do tried to swallow, but only managed to choke out a breath. “Sombra called it the Celestia Project.”

Spike dropped his pen and paper. He rubbed his hands together and paced around the library. A shiver ran down his back to his tailtip.

“You’re joking.” Twilight Velvet grabbed Daring’s foreleg. “Tell me you’re making a terrible joke.”

“Yeah, no.” Daring flipped to pages at random. “Oh, look. The Luna Project. Must be a coincidence, don’t you think?”

“Are you telling me that our High Princesses are the result of a genetic experiment?” Twilight Velvet shook her head. She continued to shake her head as she talked. “This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Hurricane’s kids? What numb-brained idiot thinks this is funny?”

“It’s not funny!” Daring Do stood up and tucked the book under one wing. “I don’t wanna believe it either, but it’s right there in black and—”

“What about my daughter?” Velvet snapped. “And—and my daughter-in-law! What does this say about them?”

“Nothing!” Spike shouted. The two mares looked at him, causing him to shrink down. “I mean… they’re still the same mares we know and love, right? No matter where they came from. Or how they got the way they are. Does it really matter?”

Velvet grimaced. “If knowing that makes it possible to take Hurricane down, then yeah, it matters, Spike.”

Tears sizzled down Spike’s face. He wiped them away as best he could, but they continued to come. “Well… when you make sense of it, then… I guess it’s… You can say…”

Twilight Velvet’s shoulders relaxed. She walked up to his side and wrapped him in a hug that didn’t quite reach around his chest. “It’s alright, Spike. You’re right. She’s still our Twilight. And Celestia is still Celestia. But if this has something to do with why Hurricane’s attacking them, we need to find it out.”

Spike nodded. He touched a claw to Velvet’s leg. “I’m gonna go help Dad with the Nightmare Night decorations.”

Daring Do bunched her gray mane under a hoof. “Aw, come on, Spike. We need y—”

“I won’t be much help.” Spike lowered himself to all fours and skittered for the hallway. “See you later.”

Velvet leaned back in a wooden chair. “Any other bombs you wanna drop while I’m still sane, Yearling?”

Daring rolled her eyes. She opened the book’s rear cover. She leaned forward. “Actually, yeah. How’s this grab you?

“Now that the Battle for the Crystal Empire has been lost, I am free to at last make sense of the insanity. After I recovered this very tome from Sombra’s laboratory, I spent the better part of my days going over every word, every formula, every arcane symbol, until I was certain I could understand what the Usurper King was trying to accomplish.

“After much deliberation, I can say wholeheartedly that the reasons presented for the creation of alicorns were quite noble. On the surface, at the least. To finally free ponies from the scourge of the windigos was a mere pipe dream in the early days of my life, when the ponies were yet divided and the monsters held sway over our people. When the Prophesy of the Alicorns was first spoken by Starswirl the Bearded. Sombra and Hurricane set out to fulfill these prophesies by any means necessary.

“Now, though, between Luna’s increasing self-destructive behavior and my own studies within this grimoire, I can say that the alicorn sisters do not fulfill the prophesies in the slightest. Rather than gifts from the stars, they are desperate poultices over a gaping wound. Their origins are tainted further still by Sombra’s madness, as he sought to gain power only for himself.

“My dear friend Hurricane was caught up in it all. I fear that the revelation of Sombra’s duplicity was too much for her psyche, which has been torn asunder. I can only watch as she gradually descends into an abyss of her own making.

“This tome contains a bounty of magical knowledge. I pray it is used only for good, rather than the violence and terror that mark its existence up to this point. I myself refuse to continue the experiments, which are so unethical as to be murderous and heretical. I have oft thought of removing the volume from existence myself, but yet I question… Is to destroy the knowledge a crime unto itself? Does it matter in the face of the crimes already committed? Do I dare share it?

“To future readers of this book, remember the danger you hold in your hooves. Do not tread lightly into the realm of alicorns and immortals, lest you be dragged down with my departed and corrupted friends. Pray for a true alicorn.

“Clover the Clever, in the Fourth Year of the Reign of High Princess Celestia and High Princess Luna”

Daring Do let the Grimoire thump to the tabletop. “Welp, I need a drink.”

“I’ll take two.” Velvet slumped in her chair, letting herself slide to the floor. She hauled herself to her feet and wrinkled her forehead. She passed Daring the day-planner. “What do you make of this?”

Daring Do held the little booklet between her wings. “An address?”

“Yeah. Looks like it’s hers. Do you think it still exists in Old Cloudsdale?”

Daring stuck her tongue in her cheek. “They say you can’t go home again, but it’s worth a shot. We’ll look it up later. After we release a little tension.”

“I’d say we deserve a break.” Velvet grabbed a book at random from the pile. “Bring something to study and I’ll take you to Twilie’s cider stores. She keeps it nice and cool in the cellar.”

“Bring something, huh?’ Daring Do pushed the Grimoire Alicorn to the far side of the table. “Something preferably not bound in the hide of sapient creatures?”

Twilight Velvet snorted. “In a word, yes. I’ve had just about enough life-altering revelations to last me an eternity.”

Daring Do snagged a thick, dusty book. On closer inspection, she found that it was an old census. “Speaking of life-altering revelations… what do we do with this? Believe it or don’t, this is heavy stuff. Do we keep it a secret or share it? Do we go to Luna? Can we even use it at all, or is this just gonna distract us?”

“We should take it to Luna…” Velvet sighed. “And hope she’s doing better. Maybe she’ll help. Somehow. I don’t know anymore, Yearling.”

Daring gave her friend a half-hearted snicker. “I know we’ve got two mugs of cider waiting for us.”

“I told you, I’ll have two on my own.” Velvet snorted. “You can have just one if you want, lightweight.”

“Who you callin’ lightweight?” Daring eased her wings out, grunting at the effort. The joints popped and the muscles ached. “They aren’t even alcoholic.”

“You can blame that one on Night Light and his desire to bring his little girl up like an angel.” Velvet chuckled, then craned her neck over Daring’s back. “What’s with your wings? Forget to take ambrosia today?”

“I… haven’t been able to get much.” Daring’s back shivered as she folded her wings back against her sides. “I don’t move them unless I get a cramp, so it’s mostly okay.”

Velvet raised a hoof to push the door open. “The shortage is making it hard on you, huh?”

“Yeah.” Daring kicked a rear leg. “A shipment or two goes missing and all of a sudden the price rises two-hundred percent a quart.”

“Well then,” Velvet said, wrapping her foreleg around Daring’s shoulders, “allow me to show you the ambrosia that is Sweet Apple Acres Cider!”

***

Officer Corky pushed his way through the Canterlot Police Station, nudging aside cops and malcontents alike. “Pix! Hay, Pixel! Red, where the heck are yah?”

Red Pixel tipped his bowler hat to his partner. “Mornin’, Corky. What’s on the agenda today?”

Corky stepped into his office, where Pixel had taken a seat behind the desk. He hung his coat up and arched his back. “We’ve got an interrogation today. Chief Velvet wants us to grill the doofuses we arrested for fighting in the Canterlot Library. You got anything new on them?”

Pixel nodded. He strapped a pair of handcuffs to his belt and followed his partner through the busy office. “Just a little. Background checks show they all work in security. Trick is, they’re all currently employed by the same guy: Prince Blueblood.”

“Blueblood?” Corky laughed. “Don’t tell me the prince is a criminal mastermind nowadays.”

“It’s a hard sell, yeah, but there’s one last thing to tie them all together.” Pixel produced a set of keys, which he handed to Corky. “The guy in charge of hiring Blueblood’s security? Viscount Hammer Dulcimer.”

“Dulcimer?” Corky strode up to the door that separated the station offices from the holding cells. He placed a hoof on the handle and held back a mighty yawn. “That jerk who always has the chief on edge?”

“One and the same.” Pixel grinned. “If we play our cards right, get a little dirt on Dulcimer, we might have enough solid evidence to blow the guy’s operation completely out of the water.”

“Nice.” Corky pushed the door open. “It’s too bad the chief’s not here to catch the big break hers—”

They stared wide-eyed at the unexpected, unwelcome sight before them. The five stallions they’d arrested were still in the cell. What was left of them.

One pegasus lay with his head in the toilet, his body completely still. An earth pony lay crushed under the collapsed bunk. A second earth pony had a sharp stake driven right through his heart, broken off from the cot’s support beams. The third earth pony slumped against the cell bars, bruises around his neck and his face frozen in a scream.

The second pegasus hung from the ceiling by his neck, held aloft by wound sheets.

Corky opened his mouth. He coughed violently before retching on the floor.

Pixel had the presence of mind to scream. “Horseapples!”

“Who put them in the same cell?” Corky spat out. “Who in the heck put them in the same cell?”

“Th-they weren’t in the same cell,” Pixel said. He shivered and leaned against the wall. He shook himself off, pulling a report out of his belt pouch. “T-ten thirty. October thirty-first. Suspects arrested at the library found dead in Police Headquarters holding cell. Appears to be five homicides. Or four homicides and one suicide. Or… Ah… duh…”

“Shoot a message to the chief.” Corky gritted his teeth and wiped his mouth off. “Or gosh, the princesses, or the Royal Guard. Heck, just get us somebody to make sense of this.”

“Ch-check the records.” Pixel stumbled over to a desk near the doorway. He shuffled through the record books. “Who was here? When? What did they do?”

Corky took a step closer to the cell. His nostrils twitched. “I don’t think you’re gonna find anything. Whoever did this, they wouldn’t have signed up to visit. They wanted to shut these guys up but good. Sense any enchantments?”

Red Pixel frowned. He shut his eyes and focused, lighting his horn with a scanning spell. His eyes popped open with a whine. “I’m detecting traces of mind-altering magic. Designed to heighten aggressiveness. It tastes like…” He clicked his tongue. “Decay.”

“Makes me wish we had Blank around,” Corky said. “We could really use his talents right about now.”

Pixel nodded. “I’ll get a hold of Chief Velvet.”

“And I’ll get the Guard involved.” Corky glanced at his horseshoes, which sat inches away from his pile of sick. “And a custodian. I think we might be in over our heads with this one, Pix.”

Pixel paused in his scribbling. “Did you figure that out before or after two princesses almost got assassinated on our watch?”

“Nah.” Corky walked slowly to his desk, waving a few other officers over. “I figured that out when I found out we had a changeling on the payroll.”

***

“For she’s a jolly old filly,” Twilight Velvet sang, “which nopony can deny!”

She twisted the handle with a brief spell and let the cider pour from the barrel into her mug. The tang of apples and cinnamon filled the air. She passed the mug to Daring and pulled another off the rack.

“But she can’t sing worth a copper,” Daring chuckled. “Her voice makes her best friend cry.”

“Excuse me?” Velvet bopped Daring on the nose. “Who do you think taught my daughter to sing?”

Daring Do took a deep draft. “I kinda expected Princess Celestia, honestly. You ever heard her sing? I’d give that mare a spot on my barbershop quartet.”

Velvet wrinkled her snout. “Your singing voice sounds like sandpaper and nails on a chalkboard. Mine’s a little rusty, but—”

“With all that rust, I hope you got your Tetris shot.”

Velvet took a few small sips, interspersed with smaller giggles. “Tetanus.”

“Whatever.” Daring Do propped her elbow against an unopened barrel. “Say, you know what this calls for? A toast!”

Velvet slapped her forehead in mock exasperation. “A toast? What the heck are we supposed to toast?”

“Uh… for you… uh…” Daring raised her mug into the air. “A toast to daughters who sing better than their mothers! And for me, uh…”

Velvet rallied her mug to match. “For being part of Princess Celestia’s barbershop quartet!”

“That’s it!” Daring and Velvet brought their cups together, sloshing their cider into each other’s mug. They brought the drinks to their mouths with two mirrored smiles.

“Hay, Mom?” Spike poked his head into the cellar. “Mom? You and Aunt Yearling aren’t getting into the ‘good’ cider, are you?”

“It’s all good cider, Spike. But no, we’re not drinking that stuff.” Velvet set her mug down gently, at a safe distance from Daring’s reaching foreleg. “What’s up?”

“Message from the Canterlot Police Department just arrived via dragon mail.” Spike waved a scroll in his claw. “I figured it was urgent.”

Twilight Velvet bobbed her head and took it in her magical grasp. She read it over.

Her jaw dropped. “Whoa. What?”

Daring Do snagged Velvet’s mug and finished it off. “What’s up? Tell me it isn’t worse than the news we got earlier. I will be cracking open the special cider if it is.”

“Not worse… but…” Velvet crumpled the paper between her hooves. “The five ponies we arrested at the library?”

“Yeah?”

“All dead. They killed each other in their cells.”

Daring jerked her head back. “Whoa.”

“Yeah, and there’s traces of mind-altering magic in the air.” Velvet’s horn flared, burning the message to a crisp. “I don’t wanna jump at shadows, but my gut tells me all these crimes are too big and too close together to be completely unrelated.”

Daring Do nodded. She joined Velvet and Spike on their way out of the cellar. “The assassinations, the attempted theft, the murders, all under the same banner?”

“Maybe.” Velvet rubbed her chin. “At the least, I think Dulcimer is in on the assassination of Celestia.”

Spike snarled. “Dulci-who?”

Velvet ran a hoof through her curls. “Viscount Dulcimer of the Blueblood Estate. He planned to assassinate Blueblood, but I couldn’t get any solid evidence against him.”

Daring Do squinted. “When did this happen?”

Twilight Velvet blew a long, hard breath through her lips. “That does it. It’s time to get our team debriefed. Daring, you help me track down our teammates. Spike, you—”

“Help Dad,” he said. He cleared his throat, wiping his eyes. “I’m gonna keep helping Dad.”

Velvet paused mid-step. She looked up at him with a tiny frown. “If you’re sure.”

“Yeah.” Spike scratched a scale loose from his arm. “I need to take my mind off things. Off lots of things.”

Twilight Velvet stood on her hind legs to kiss him on the cheek. “I understand, Spike. Go ahead.”

He walked backwards a few steps before turning around. “I’ll be there when you really need me. I promise.”

Twilight Velvet watched him go. She stomped a hoof on the crystal floor. “Well. Come on, Yearling. Let’s get the team together. We’ve got a lot to do if we wanna be ready for tomorrow.”

Daring Do grinned from ear to ear. “Heck, yeah! It’s about time we got proactive!”

Schemers

Scuttlebutt slithered through the hallways of Canterlot Castle. His rubbery hooves gripped the walls and pulled him forward, above guards and around servants. The wing of the castle that housed Celestia’s personal chambers lay empty and dark for the most part on this Nightmare Night. It granted him almost free roam of the entire palace.

The thick double-doors to her suite, emblazoned with the symbol of the sun, loomed before him. There wasn’t much of a gap beneath the doorway, but it was enough. The wight flattened himself against the ground and seeped through the crack. Once inside the dark room, he rose from the floor, a cheese-eating grin on his ratty face.

Celestia’s princess-sized bed dominated the room for the most part. To the left was a relatively small desk designed for private letters and minor court work. To the right was the balcony, sealed off from the outside and covered in heavy curtains. Across the room, straight ahead, was a small, potted tree. Scuttlebutt bent low until his chin scraped the floor. He crawled hoof over hoof over the marble floor and fuzzy carpet.

The door clicked behind him. Scuttlebutt rushed to the bed and slid beneath the hanging skirt, hiding himself from view.

A youngish, pudgy unicorn stallion trotted into the room. He adjusted his monocle with a huff. “Dreadfully dreary in here. Won’t do at all. Really should speak to Raven about this. Can’t abide the dust. Can’t abide it.”

“Quit fussing, Natter.” A pegasus maid pushed a cart in behind him. She trotted up to the curtains and threw them open. “It hasn’t been that long since Luna close this room… off.”

Sunlight streamed through the window. Clouds of dust swam through the sunbeams, causing the mare to cough. She waved her hoof in front of her face. “Then again, a month of emptiness has a way of filling up a room.”

Scuttlebutt hissed and skittered deeper under the bed, away from the sun. His soulless black eyes glared at the two ponies standing between him and his target. A pointed tongue snaked across his thin lips. The stallion was a little fat for his tastes. Junk food. Bad for the cholesterol. The mare, on the other hand, was thin yet strong. Most pegasi had delectable wing muscles at the least. Just enough toughness to give the jaw a workout.

“Well, time we filled it with something besides dust.” Natter, the princesses’ Royal Scheduling Advisor, hobbled over to the tree. He lifted a hoof to caress the branches. Dead leaves crinkled to the floor. “Poor thing hasn’t had much care. It isn’t dead, is it?”

“Probably just needs a little water and sunshine.” The maid brushed her wingtips over the pictures and portraits on the wall, wiping away cobwebs and clearing away a thick layer of dust. “I think it’s hibernating from the cold, too. Or sleeping, or whatever trees do.”

The sunlight reflected on something in the branches, drawing Scuttlebutt away from his gruesome fantasy. He could see his prize from where he lay: A small shard of glass, the last remains of a portal to a distant world.

Natter touched a small shred of paper hanging beside the mirror fragment. The word “Always” was written across it. Immense care was put into each letter, each lovingly-crafted loop. “Every time I ask her about these, she changes the subject.”

The maid peered over his shoulder, putting their backs to Scuttlebutt. “Ask her about what?”

“This broken mirror, here. And this little note.” Natter looked at his blue-coated reflection with a furrowed brow. “They’re obviously very important, but for the life of me I can’t figure out why.”

The mare rubbed her chin. She squinted at the note until a long, wriggling smirk worked its way across her face. She hopped away with light wing beats. “You always were clueless in matters of the heart, Nat.”

He drew his head up and left the tree behind. “Now what’s that supposed to mean?”

Scuttlebutt stretched himself out to a long, thin snake of a pony. He slithered along the edge of the wall, just out of sight. His sharp teeth slid against each other, eager for a bite.

“Come on, Nat! That flowery script? Hanging from a potted tree in her personal chambers? Front and center right next to her fireplace where she can look at it as she wakes up and goes to sleep?” The maid giggled, accidentally letting a snort escape. “It’s love, you doofus.”

Natter’s jaw dropped. He stepped forward, almost stomping on Scuttlebutt’s nigh-invisible tail. “The princess? In love? Preposterous!”

“Tell me it’s crazy, but the evidence is there.” The maid rolled her eyes. “Almost as preposterous as you falling in love, I’d say.”

Natter blathered for a good minute, various non-words pouring from his mouth. He set about pulling the covers from Celestia’s bed and folding them in a magic spell. “That’s hardly fair, Sky.”

Scuttlebutt flattened himself to hide behind the tree. His hooves morphed into clawed hands, wrapping their fingers around the thin trunk. A drop of drool escaped his mouth. With a motion quicker than a blink, a claw severed the string holding up the mirror shard. The glass landed soundlessly in his palm.

A pang hit his stomach. It had been a long time since he’d feasted on a pony. Even the chubby one was starting to look appetizing. He watched them work for a moment or two, going about the room, tidying up, making the place look more like a home. He backed to the wall and climbed to the ceiling. It wouldn’t take long. He just needed to drop on top of one and silence the other before they could sound the alarm. After he shut the door, he would have all day to enjoy them.

A claw stretched out, reaching for Natter’s throat.

The stallion turned his head, and the arm vanished from sight. “Miss Wishes, what sort of pony does a princess fall in love with?”

“I dunno.” Sky Wishes tilted her head back. Scuttlebutt scrambled into one of the few shadowed corners that remained. “Somebody who’s strong, loyal, steadfast, and true, I guess. Being an absolute knockout doesn’t hurt, I’d say.” She tossed her plum-striped mane. “Why? You planning to make a move on one of them?”

“No, no, no, heavens no!” Natter rubbed a hoof down his face. He missed the misshapen form of the wight whisking its way across the wall. “It’s just a point of curiosity. It boggles the mind that Celestia would… well, feel that way about somepony.”

Sky Wishes shrugged. “Worked for Cadenza, didn’t it?”

“Touché.” Natter piled the folded comforter onto the cart, ready to be carried to the washroom. “I imagine that since we haven’t heard from the lucky pony, it hasn’t exactly worked out.”

Sky Wishes touched down. She sauntered over to Natter with a shrug of her shoulder. “Unless it’s some sort of secret. A love kept out of the public light. They sneak candlelit dinners out from under the staff’s notice. They exchange passionate kisses by the light of the moon… Doesn’t it sound romantic?”

Natter’s face blushed a deep red. He began to polish his already crisp monocle. “Hrm, of course, if you say so, why not, burhuh, harrumph.”

Scuttlebutt slunk his way beneath the bed until he was at the back of Natter’s hooves. He stood up, his jaws wide, as Sky Wishes tiptoed forward from the front.

She snickered and pulled a soft cloth from her cart. “Has anybody told you you’re adorable when you’re grumbling incoherently?”

Scuttlebutt’s teeth sharpened in anticipation of biting into Natter’s neck.

The door clattered open. Scuttlebutt let out a snort of frustration and sank back into the shadows. A Royal Guard stood at attention. “Royal Scheduling Advisor Natter,” the guard said, “Princess Luna requests your presence at Canterlot Hospital.”

Natter pulled a pocket watch from his jacket. “Dash it all, so much for my daily distraction… Counterpunch, would you stay with the room and keep Miss Wishes safe?”

The guard smiled. “That’s my assignment, sir. Luna’s putting the castle guard on quadruple-watch. If there’re any assassins or monsters skulking around, we’ll find them.”

“I wonder how much of that has to do with the changeling attack of a few weeks ago.” Natter coughed and tucked his watch away. “Um. Perhaps another time, Sky?”

She wrinkled her nose. “As usual.” She fluttered into the air and cleared the cobwebs off of a hanging lamp. “So long, Nat. Keep safe.”

The scheduling advisor bobbed his head, pursed his lips, and walked away.

Sky felt a chilly breeze blow across her coat. She turned her head to see that the balcony door was open. “Huh? Wasn’t that closed?”

She stuck her head outside and looked around for as long as she could stand the frigid fall air. She rolled her eyes, letting the door click shut.

She never noticed the wight crawling on the outer walls of the castle, headed for the ground with his purloined mirror.

***

Prince Blueblood leaned over the Crystal Palace’s dining room table, burying his head in his forelegs. His head throbbed, as usual. His foggy brain made it difficult to grasp the glass in his magic. A glass he hadn’t drank out of yet. He couldn’t muster up the strength. What did it matter? His head would still hurt, and his aunt would still be… dead to the world.

The silence was broken by the light tap of silver horseshoes. Blueblood didn’t look up. He knew who they belonged to. He covered his eyes and tried to squeeze the headache away.

The chair beside his slid out. “Hello, Husband.”

“Fleur.” He laid his head on its side. “Did you know that all of this could be ours?”

Fleur opened her mouth to say something, but the something got stuck halfway up her throat. She let out a dainty cough. “I’m sorry, I don’t—”

“All of this. The Crystal Empire. Equestria. I, King Blueblood, and you, Queen Fleur de Lis.” He heaved a sigh. “And so it would have been, until my ancestor Periwinkle gave it away.”

He stared at the golden brown liquid in his cup. “When it was time for him to take command, he backed down. Abdicated. Gave it up to the alicorns. Reduced us to the role of minor nobles. Took away what set us apart.”

He shrugged. “So our quote-unquote ‘aunts’ gave our quote-unquote ‘cousin’ charge over the crystal ponies.” He nudged the cup with a spark. “And left the Royal Family to become a long line of screw-ups.”

Fleur tapped her hooves together, saying nothing.

Blueblood sat up in his seat. His horn lit to drag the cup closer to his chest. “What do you want?”

She rubbed a patch of fur that had decided to stick up. An ear tilted itself down before she was able to suppress the expression. “To be honest.”

Blueblood tilted his head back and took a deep swig. He let the glass slap back to the tabletop. “Well, I’m ready. Release the brutal honesty. It can’t be the worst thing to happen today.”

Fleur looked down. Her slender neck bent forward as she bowed her head. “I didn’t just come to the Crystal Empire for safety. I came because…” She took on a thick accent as emotion flooded her voice. “Blueblood, our marriage is failing. Ze only reason we’re still together is because divorce among the royal family is unheard of.”

Blueblood sighed. He took another deep swig. “I rescind my previous statement.” His bloodshot eyes glared at a distant point on the far wall. “So you came up here to separate? To distance yourself from me?”

“No!” Fleur’s hoof clapped against the table. The sound echoed all around the room.

Blueblood set his cup down gently. He leaned into the high-backed chair. “What, then?”

Fleur de Lis brushed her mane behind her ear. She rubbed her hoof against the arm rest, keeping her distance from Blueblood’s leg. “I came here to see Cadence. I came here to get advice.”

Blueblood pulled his hind legs onto the chair and turned to his wife. He frowned, revealing the wrinkles gradually forming on his face. “What?”

“I don’t want to leave you, Blueblood,” Fleur whispered. “I want to save the marriage. I want to love you again. I know it will be hard. I know it would be easier to just split. But I…”

“I’m not worth it.”

Fleur watched, her mouth open in a soundless cry, as Blueblood stood up. He paced around the table, rubbing his head with a hoof. “What do you mean ‘not worth it’?” she asked.

Blueblood groaned from the pit of his chest. “I mean don’t bother. Give it up. I don’t matter.”

Fleur propped herself on her forelegs. “Blue Eyes Platinum Blueblood, how dare you? You won’t even consider—?”

“I’m not worth it!” Blueblood cried. He met his wife’s gaze with glazed eyes. They stared until he was able to peel himself away and resume his trot. “I’m a stuck-up, self-righteous, self-obsessed, pompous idiot… and everypony’s happy to tell me as much.”

He loosened his blue bowtie with a jerk of his hoof. “You can’t change me. Celestia couldn’t change me. I’m simply not worth your time.”

“I know I can’t change you,” Fleur said. “I don’t want to change you.”

Blueblood huffed. “Then why bring it up?”

“Because I remember a time when every moment together was like a dream.” She wrapped her forelegs around her chest, squeezing warmth into her body. “When we would lay together at night and whisper secrets into each other’s ears. When every sunrise was a song and every evening was a melody. When I could look into your eyes and know what you were thinking. And you, me.”

Blueblood stumbled, dropping to his rump on the far side of the table. He hung his head and let his mane fall around his face. “Then we grew up.”

Fleur lifted herself up. “I want to bring that time back.”

“You can’t turn back the clock.” Blueblood waved a hoof weakly before letting it drop to the floor. “Not a thousand years and not one. You live in the world you make for yourself.”

Fleur felt wetness run down her cheek. She nodded. “So let’s make a better world.”

Blueblood tilted his head back to look at the high ceiling. He narrowed his eyes as he gazed at the warm, soft-glowing crystals. “Can we?”

“It only took the Creator a week.” Fleur laughed and wiped her face. “It might take us a bit longer, but… I want to try.”

“How?” Blueblood whispered. “Where would we even start?”

Fleur cantered around the edge of the table. She bent down to touch her hooves to her husband’s. “Where we started once before, perhaps?”

Blueblood winced, rubbing his head. “I’m not as spry as I once was.”

“Neither am I.” Fleur took a step back to let him up, but didn’t let go of him. “But tell me you can’t cut a rug.”

“Oh, that I could,” Blueblood said. “Given the proper tune.”

Soft, bright notes sounded throughout the room. They bounced off the crystal, echoing and building into a small, intimate symphony. Blueblood raised an eyebrow at his wife, whose cheeks glowed pink. “Went to Cadence for help, eh?” he asked.

“She’s trying a more hooves-on approach, she says.” Fleur covered her mouth to hide a smile. “It’s a bit of an apprenticeship, on top of that.”

“Employing her two little cherubs, is she?” Blueblood levitated his glass from the table to his side and finished it off. “I think I might need a few glasses more with them on the case.”

Fleur laughed aloud. “So long as you can stay on your feet!”

“Believe me, dear—” Blueblood wrapped his foreleg around her waist and twirled her around. “—once the migraines dull, there’s no stopping these hooves!”

***

The crystalline, strawberry-coated pegasus filly let out a yelp. “Yes! Nailed it!”

Silver Lance leaned against a phonograph, his brow furrowed in deep concentration. He watched Cousin Blueblood and Cousin Fleur twirl around the dining room. “They look pretty happy. Is that it? Have they fallen in love again?”

“Well…” The filly pawed at the countless ribbons tied into her dark mane. “I think they’ve decided they want to be in love again. I think that’s the important part.”

Silver leaned against a glistening hoof. “You think they could fall in love to a better song? Maybe something by Sweetie Belle?”

“No! This is nice and romantic.” The filly sat up straight and preened. “Besides, it’s my job to choose the song.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m a year older than you, so I’m the boss.”

Silver pouted. He jumped to his hooves and trotted towards the doorway. “Mommy! Mom! Twilight’s using the ignoratio elenchi fallacy in an argument!”

Twilight Amore lowered her eyebrows and lifted a protective wing over the music player. “Look who’s aiming for the ‘appeal to authority’ fallacy…”

***

The high-pitched squeals of the foals’ voices reached Blueblood’s ears, causing them to lie back against his head. “Such delightful cherubs, indeed.”

Fleur pressed her lips together. She touched his cheek. “They just want to help.”

Blueblood closed his eyes. “They’re doing an amazing job helping the headache.”

Fleur let the air out of her chest. As the song wound down, she pulled him to the hallway. “Come on. Let’s find a quiet place for you to lie down. Would that be alright?”

Blueblood frowned, his ears drooping down. “Yes, Fleur. That would be marvelous.”

They left hoof-in-hoof. Fleur looked back over her shoulder to see Twilight Amore peering after them. She gave the filly a wink.

Twilight packed up the phonograph, gave the room one last sigh-filled glance, and headed for a late breakfast.

***

Blankety Blank huddled down at one of the café’s outdoor tables. It was a warm Nightmare Night afternoon. What little breeze there was served to freshen the air and bring in scents of the various treats and novelties being baked all around town. Caramel apples oozed sugary goo. Apple pies steamed on window sills. Bags of candy were being prepared for the evening’s festivities.

All around, foals of every size, tribe, and color were making last-minute changes to their ensembles. There was a scarecrow here, a clown there, and a wonderbolt or two making their way to the city square.

A tangible, tangy excitement tickled the tip of Blankety’s tongue. He smiled despite himself.

“First Ponyville Nightmare Night?” Time Turner said. He secured his long scarf tighter around his neck. “You’re in for a doozey, no mistake. I think it’s still the single most elaborate celebration in Equestria. There’s games, and prizes; a live band… Princess Luna even visits most years. I think this might be the first in the last five she hasn’t been able to come.”

Across the way, a few sturdy ponies set about erecting a stage for the performers. Big McIntosh directed the flow, pulling his own weight in wood and work. Mayor Applejack could be seen divvying up the square with her younger sister, putting together the lots for the various stands and activity booths ponies were carting in. Pinkie Pie split her time between putting together trick-or-treating routes and supervising the creation of a haunted house.

“I t-try to stay away from Nightmare Night celebrations,” Blank muttered. “Most of the t-time it feels like… Like I don’t belong.”

Time Turner bit into a blueberry muffin. He gave Blankety a wry smile. “Preposterous! It’s a night to celebrate everything that goes bump in it! You’re a creature of the dark yourself, Blank. You should fit right—”

“Th-that’s the problem.” Blankety Blank sipped his steaming mug of cider. “Wh-while everypony else pretends, I actually am a changeling.” He rubbed a white hoof against the table. “I j-just don’t fit in, and I don’t want to pretend to.”

Time Turner tugged the edge of his duster. He leaned against the table and removed the smile from his face. “You aren’t going to fit in if you don’t try.”

Blank lowered his eyebrows, bringing Care to mind. “I did try. It d-didn’t work out.”

“It was one try. Some things you need to persevere at. Some things you need to try from multiple angles.” Time Turner scanned the crowd until he found a particular familiar face. He hid a grin. “Some things you need to brute-force. What if the two of us joined a trick-or-treat route? Helped chaperone the kids?”

“Y-you say that like it wouldn’t turn out to be a horrible, t-terrible disaster.” Blank grimaced. “I don’t think s-so.”

Time chuckled. “You’re right. Not as though the little gremlins would listen to a word I said, regardless. Still, I think you ought to meet a few ponies.”

Blank let the tang of the excitement mingle with the tang of his cider. “Who d-did you have in mind?”

Time half-stood and waved a hoof. “Dinky! Twist! Over here!”

A tall, thin mare bobbed her head above the crowd. “Mister Turner?” She grasped the shoulder of a curly-maned mare beside her. “Come on, he’s back!”

She galloped past ponies with her friend in tow, almost literally. Twist stumbled along in Dinky’s wake, her glasses laying askew on her nose. “Whoa! Thtop!”

Dinky threw her long forelegs around Time’s torso, barely allowing him to get a leg out from under her. “I’m so glad you’re back from Canterlot!” she said. “I thought you were in that big fight they were talking about on the news!”

“The news?” Time Turner’s eyes grew wide. He patted her back. “Well, heavens, no. If I was in that fight, you’d have never heard of it.”

She leaned back and smirked. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”

He shook his head. “I learned from the worst.”

Twist bobbed her head. “It’th good to know you’re okay, Mithter Turner.”

“Thank you, Twistaloo.” He gestured to the disguised changeling on the other side of the table. “Dinky, Twist, this is an old friend of mine, Blankety Blank. This colt saved my life a long time ago.”

“I-it was more a m-mutual thing,” Blank said. He gave the mares a small wave. “Hello.”

Dinky thrust a hoof out to him. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mister Blank. Mister Turner and my mom go way back, so I think we both owe you a debt.”

“N-not at all.” Blank met the hoof bump with a tiny thump. “L-like I said, it was mutual.”

Time looked to the curly-maned mare. “So how are you two spending this lovely Nightmare Night?”

“Fillythcoutth,” Twist said. “My troop is going to trick-or-treat together tonight, so Dinky’th helping chaperone.” She nudged Dinky in the shoulder. “And maybe we’ll rope her into becoming an ath— athitht—helper?”

“Maybe some day.” Dinky lifted her eyes to the sky and spoke out of the side of her mouth. “It cuts into my hours at the shop, remember?”

“Thircum—Eventth out of your control, I know.” Twist sighed. “Can’t help hoping.”

Dinky tilted her head and opened her eyes wide. “You know, Mister Turner, if you’re not doing anything else, Truffle Shuffle is looking for helpers for the Coltscouts…”

“Not this year, Dinky,” Time Turner said. “This year is Blankety Blank’s first Ponyville Nightmare Night, and it’s my duty as his friend to help him get the full experience.”

Dinky snickered. “Then he might wanna come back on a year Princess Luna visits.”

“T-trust me, I’d like to.” Blank took a deep breath in. “This place t-tastes great.”

Time Turner gave Blank a sideways glance, but said nothing. Blank blushed and shrugged.

“Have you tried a pumpkin-thpithe muffin?” Twist brought her forelegs close to her chest and wrinkled her snout in a smile. “It’th delithiouth!”

“Y-yeah! And the candied fruit is b-better than anything I’ve tasted.” Blank patted a saddlebag sitting at his feet. “G-got extras for later.”

Twist winked. “Thmart guy.”

“Those are nice,” Dinky said, “but the real way to experience Nightmare Night? You gotta bob for fresh apples. The night’s not over until you get to snatch an apple from the jaws of defeat!”

Time Turner sat back and watched the three interact. “That’s it, Blank,” he whispered beneath his breath. “That’s how you make friends. Find a connection and roll with it.”

***

Care Carrot was hopelessly lost. She had run these streets for weeks now. She knew most of them by heart, by instinct. But those instincts relied on landmarks that were now obscured by cobwebs, spiders, jack-o’-lanterns, mummies, bats, and any other number of creepies, crawlies, and cat-faced cookies.

How hard was it to find one changeling in a crowd of ponies? Nearly impossible, even on a good day. On Nightmare Night, absolutely insane.

“I picked him out of a stinking masquerade ball.” Care pulled her mane out from under her plaid jacket’s collar. “Is this irony or just me going nuts?”

She touched a donkey jack who was clomping by. “Excuse me, but do you know where I could find Time Turner?”

“Do I look like a missing persons bureau?” the donkey grumbled. “Don’t answer that. Try his shop. If he’s not there, I can’t help yah, kid.”

She gritted her teeth as he walked away, his back to her. “Well, I can say for sure he wouldn’t be there. Thank you for your help, kind sir. You must be an absolute pillar of the community.”

She moved deeper into the crowd, walking with the flow of traffic. Under any other circumstances, she would have been absolutely enchanted by the effort the town was putting into the celebration, but today…

“Excuse me. Pardon. One side, please. Move!”

On one particularly ill-timed left turn, she clocked heads with a young stallion and sent the both of them flopping to the ground. The colt got to his feet first, offering a hoof to help her up. “Sorry, ma’am. Didn’t see you there.”

She groaned loudly as she stood up. She gave the earth pony the smarmiest smirk she could manage. “I guess I’m just lucky it was the first time today.”

He cocked an ear towards a shout from across the road. “Come on, Button, let’s get the show on the road!”

Button Mash turned on his hind legs. “Sorry again. Have a good one.”

“Hold it!” Care shouted, raising a hoof. “Have you seen Time Turner around?”

“Uh… Uh, yeah!” He tousled his own unruly reddish-brown mane. “I saw him with somepony at the Café Schmaltz. Go to the end of the road and take a right onto Mane Street.”

She threw her head back and let her shoulders droop. “Oh, finally! Thank you!”

“No problem!” Button Mash took off across the road, dodging ponies and carriages. “Happy Nightmare Night!”

With a clear goal in mind, Care Carrot made short work of the walk to the café. Once she got to a certain point, though, she couldn’t help but get distracted by the sights, sounds, and smells of the fair kicking into its first stages. A few musicians gathered beside the stage, tuning their instruments while the foundations were being laid. A cart advertising their ability to deep-fry just about anything under the sun bustled with curious carnival-goers. At long last, she spied her target.

Blankety sat at a table across from Time, chatting with two mares who were snacking on small muffins. Care recognized one of them as Time Turner’s employee. She wouldn’t be interrupting anything too ground-shattering, then. Maybe she’d just be a little annoyance. Just a little.

She stepped past the open, white-picket fence surrounding the café and cleared her throat. When her chest constricted, she settled for waving sheepishly.

Time Turner saw her first. “Captain! Please, join us. We were just talking about what we plan to do this evening.”

Care coughed, dragging a chair from an empty table with a glowing pink spell. She stopped when it was halfway across the ground, a thought occurring to her. “A-actually, I was hoping to talk to Blankty. About something.”

She looked across the table. She frowned when she saw him.

His ears drooped beside his head. His eyelids looked too heavy for his eyes. He wrinkled his snout in defeat. His shoulders slackened, and his hooves slipped beneath the tabletop. “W-what’s up?”

Care’s mouth dried out. She jerked her head to the side. “Can I have a minute?”

Blank blinked. He looked at the mares and Time, mumbled “’Scuse me,” and shuffled up to Care. He didn’t meet her eyes.

Care looked at him, her hooves refusing to sit still. She licked her lips. “I’m sorry.”

Blankety brought his eyebrows together. “For what?”

“For… what I said.” She fought the sudden lump in her throat. “On the train.”

“Oh. Y-yeah.” Blankety Blank’s jaw tightened. “That.”

Care’s face fell when she saw his expression. “I-I mean, I know what I said was really… sucky. I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean… I guess I did mean it, but only then and now I just—”

His face softened. He let his head fall below her level and stared at a point between his hooves.

She bit her lip until it hurt. “I’m sorry.”

He sucked on his lips before whispering an answer. “I forgive you.” He waved a hoof towards the table. “You sh-should have a seat.”

Care gave him a stilted nod. She dragged the chair the last few meters and let him return to his spot. She took up position beside Dinky, putting the mare between Blank and her. “So, um, hi.”

“Hi,” came the answer from both Dinky and Twist.

Care sat in awkward silence for a second or two. “Sorry I interrupted. Just keep going. Pretend I’m not here.”

Time Turner put his hooves together and leaned against the table. He cleared his throat.

Care blew a breath through her lips. “Who asked you?”

“Nopony.” He nodded to the street. “Well now, looks like we’ve more company on the way.”

Care Carrot followed his gaze. Walking down the street, muscling their way past the variety of bystanders, were Daring Do and Twilight Velvet. They wore expressions of intense emotional restraint, like volcanoes minutes away from eruption. Whether it was an eruption of frustration or pain, Care couldn’t quite make out.

Blank rubbed his cheek. “I g-guess the break’s over.”

“Yes.” Time flipped the ends of his scarf out of the way of his legs. “Best see what they want. Goodbye for now, Dinky.”

She gave him a one-legged hug and nuzzled his neck before trotting off, Twist not far behind.

Care, Time, and Blank sat quietly, equidistant from each other around the table. They watched the two mares approach with somber expression. Blankety let out a pained sigh, speaking for them all.

Twilight Velvet reached the table first. She lifted a foreleg to it and leaned heavily. “There’s been a complication.”

“Isn’t there always?” Time Turner’s chair legs skidded across the concrete ground as he pushed it back. “Who got hurt this time.”

“The entire team of stallions we fought at the library. They’re dead.” Velvet’s breath caught in her chest, but she shook it off visibly. “They were murdered. Violently. No doubt to shut them up.”

Care leaned forward. “Was it Hurricane?”

“Not her M.O.” Velvet took a step to the side to give Daring room. “There was mind-altering magic at play. They were made to kill each other. Whoever’s doing this is sick and needs to be stopped pronto.”

“D-do you think they’re with Hurricane?” Blank asked.

“I’m not ruling out the possibility.” Velvet rubbed the back of her neck in a vain attempt to loosen the muscles. “We already know she’s not working alone, and a group of ponies who would infiltrate the sealed archives aren’t exactly civic-minded…”

She gave Daring a pointed look, but the pegasus ignored her. The rest of the team looked away, seeking something besides Velvet’s accusing glare.

“The bottom line is that every moment we sit on our rumps, somebody else gets hurt.” Velvet stomped a hoof. “We’ve got to follow our leads, find the guilty parties, and hit them as hard as we can.”

“The good news is that we’ve got a couple solid leads,” Daring piped up. “The stallions who got themselves murdered were all working for the same guy: Viscount Dulcimer.”

Time Turner shrugged. “Never heard of him.”

“He’s the Viscount of the Blueblood Estate, and a pony Twilight’s been watching for a long time.” Daring smacked her hooves together. “We’re gonna go have a little ‘discussion’ with him. Along with the Canterlot Police Force.”

A sinister grin touched Blank’s face. He couldn’t hide a glint of fangs at the corners of his mouth. “Even if he’s got nothing to do with Hurricane, we can still put the son of a gun away.”

“Provided we find evidence.” Twilight Velvet furrowed her brow. “That’s the key. It’s always been the key with him. He’s too slippery.”

“So, wait…” Care rested her forehead in her hooves. “We’re stopping the chase for Hurricane just so we can bag an old grudge of yours?”

“We’re following a lead.” Velvet frowned at Care, who stiffened her back. “Some leads don’t pan out, but some do. Don’t discount it just because it’s not a neon sign saying ‘Assassin here. Apply within.’”

“I’m not.” Care crossed her forelegs and met Velvet with an even stare. “I’m just tired of near-misses and wild goose chases.”

Twilight Velvet’s lip twitched. “Welcome to my world. Captain.”

A loud clack jolted them out of their staring contest. The whole table snapped to Time Turner, who lifted a glass in preparation to bring it down again. He smiled a plastic sort of smile. “So, then! What’s our next move?”

Daring Do blinked first, restraining a light chuckle. “First thing is heading back to the castle and going over the rest of the books. Tomorrow Velvet and I are gonna check out Dulcimer, while a couple of you guys head to Cloudsdale. We’ve got an address that might have something.”

“We also have something to share with Luna.” Velvet fidgeted with her hooves. “And we’d better hope she’s in a good mood. I’ll explain when we’re back at the castle.”

“Th-then we should go.” Blankety Blank arched his back as he stood up. “Best get this over with. Right?”

“Best get it started,” Daring said. “It ain’t over yet, guys. Not by a long shot.”

Care Carrot remained seated until the rest of them stood. She pushed herself up at a sluggish pace, as if the weight on her shoulders was physical, rather than emotional. “Not over. That’s for stinking sure.”

She lagged behind them, shooting short, unsure looks at the back of Twilight Velvet’s head. She rolled her eyes and took a deep breath in, letting it out slowly. She didn’t need any extra stress, and darned if she was gonna let it get to her.

A pony rammed into her side while her eyes were closed. She hit the pavement with a grunt. A scrape appeared on her knee that began to leak blood almost immediately. She bit back a tart comment and forced civility into her voice. “You okay?”

The pony didn’t say anything. They pulled a hat low over a wispy white mane and leaped to their feet. A flash of their cutie mark appeared out from under their long jacket. It was swirling, and white, and familiar.

The pony disappeared into the crowd.

Care leapt to her hooves with a scream. She shoved her way through the mass of ponies, knocking aside those she couldn’t move around. An agonizing minute crawled by. There was no sign that the mare had even been there.

Care broke into an open square, where ponies relaxed by a bubbling fountain. She twisted this way and that, running a hoof through her mane. Had she just imagined it? Had she not gotten a good enough look? Was she mistaken?

“Am I just going nuts?” she hissed to herself.

“Care!” she heard Daring Do call out over the surrounding rumble. “Move your caboose!”

“Horseapples!” Care said. A nearby mother covered her little foal’s ears.

With a resigned sigh, Care rejoined the flow of bodies headed in a general direction towards the castle. She kept glancing over her shoulder, but didn’t catch sight of the mare again.

***

“I hate coincidences,” Hurricane growled.

She ducked inside a covered wagon, which was being pulled by a muscular, plain-faced earth pony stallion. The bustle of Ponyville’s citizens dulled once she was inside the sound-proofing spell cast by sympathetic unicorns. A few other ponies waited inside, along with an imposing griffon.

“You know,” Zephyr said, “for something that isn’t supposed to exist, coincidences are surprisingly easy to engineer.”

“I met that mare before; at the opera. One of Celestia’s personal guards. I think she recognized me.” Hurricane scowled. “I lost her in the crowd, but she is not the sort to give up.”

Zephyr tapped against the front of the wagon. “Dandy, how’s it look? Do we have a tail?”

“Negative,” the earth pony driver said, his voice a monotone.

“Looks like you gave her the slip, Commander.” The griffon spoke through a curved beak, the hint of a predatory smile showing at the edges. “It seems you’re as skilled at stealth as you are assassinating princesses.”

Hurricane narrowed her eyes to dangerous slits. She indicated Zephyr with a flick of her ear. “Who is this?”

“I can speak for myself, thank you.” The griffon tapped the tips of his claws together. “I am Grenadier Lanner, here at the request of the Mother. I am to assist your infiltration of Ponyville’s castle.”

Hurricane ran her eyes over his adornments. A few straps across his chest secured a long spear to his back. Plastic orbs dangled from his belt. “You’re a Felaccia native.”

Lanner tilted his head to the side. “A sharp eye, Commander. You are familiar with Felaccian armaments, then?”

“I know of them. I will require a more detailed explanation.” She lowered her eyebrows to shadow her face. “Along with an explanation as to what stake you have in Equestria’s freedom. I could understand if you were from Griffonstone, or one of the Equestrian communities, but you hail from the homeland.”

Lanner’s faint smile faded. It was replaced by a hollow grin that did nothing to hide a spark of fear in his eyes. “Reverence of the Master is not relegated to ponies, Commander. We griffons are pack hunters, and the pack always follows an alpha.” He scraped a talon against the wood seat. “I doubt you complained when you received my box of wingblades, straight from Felaccia.”

“No, I didn’t.” Hurricane tilted her wings, letting the light from a hole in the tarp reflect off a few bits of metal. “I suspect if the Mother vouches for you, I should as well.”

“Good. Then there shouldn’t be a problem.” Lanner spread his wings, dwarfing the ponies in the confines of the cart. “The Mother sent me specifically so that there wouldn’t be a problem this time.”

Hurricane ground her teeth together. “What do you have to bring to the table?”

Lanner detached the orbs from his belt and laid them out. Each had a handle on the side, just the right size to be grasped by talons. “These are called grenades. It’s where my title, grenadier, comes from. If the pin is pulled, it will ignite the sparkpowder within and create a blast…” He stretched his wings to their limit, touching the edges of the tarp. “Around four meters in diameter. In layman’s terms, it hurts. Badly.”

Hurricane looked around the wagon. Seven ponies sat, including Dandy and Zephyr. She made eight, and Lanner made nine. “Are there enough for all of us?”

“No. I was able to sneak four out without being questioned.” The griffon traitor clasped his talons tight. “I’m treading on thin ice as it is. Andean’s going to wonder why your wingblade hasn’t been tested yet.” He growled deep in his throat. “You should be more careful where you leave your things, Commander.”

Hurricane growled back. She pointed to the spear hanging from his back. “And what of that? Is it one of the fabled volleyguns?”

Lanner let the pride show on his face. He slung the firearm from his back and presented it to the mare. “Only the latest innovation in Felaccian technology. It can fire one shot hundreds of meters.”

“What distance is it accurate to?” Hurricane said, running her eyes along the bronze-colored tube on the end.

Lanner’s eyes dimmed. “Around twenty-three meters. After that, accuracy drops off exponentially.” He dug through a pouch on his belt and produced a metal sphere. “But that deficiency is negated when you factor in sheer power. One ball can pierce a magic shield and Royal Guard-class armor.”

He poured powder down the shining tube, following it up with a cloth-covered ball of metal. A small rod was used to pack the ingredients into position. He hovered one talon over a switch midway down the spear. “This trigger is what ignites the powder. The controlled explosion launches the ball towards whatever you happen to point the volleygun at. You only get one shot before you need to reload.”

“One shot.” Hurricane smirked. “If all goes well, we won’t need a second.”

“Yes… about that.” Grenadier Lanner ruffled his neck feathers. “The Mother wishes to inform you that she considers this your third shot. Further failure to complete your missions to a satisfactory degree will not be tolerated.”

“Satisfactory—?” Hurricane spread her wings as rage took hold of her face. “I put Celestia in the hospital—!”

“When you should have put her in the grave.” Lanner tightened his grip on his fully-loaded volleygun. “Don’t question the Mother’s orders. You know they come straight from the Master.” A cold, ghostly shiver ran down his spine. “And he’s not to be trifled with.”

Hurricane bit her tongue until it bled. “The mirror shall be retrieved.”

“As well as the book.” Lanner glanced Zephyr’s way. “The Mother told me to see to the Grimoire Alicorn. Personally.”

Hurricane looked to Zephyr, who looked back. He gave her a small smile and a nod. He had her back. She could rely on him.

She set her cold, gray eyes on the griffon. “Very well. We’ll both see to it. For a better tomorrow.”

Grenadier Lanner returned the volleygun to its holster. “Yes. A better tomorrow for us all.”

Author's Note

Twilight Velvet, Hurricane, Mi Amore Cadenza... they're all schemers. Schemers trying to control their own little worlds.

I try to show the schemers how pathetic their plans to control things really are. :pinkiecrazy:

Nostalgia

Twilight Velvet gave Care a double-take, her single curl bounding from one shoulder to the other. “You saw who? Are you sure?”

They stood on the steps of the castle, outside the bulk of the ponies flooding the streets. Time Turner’s yelp of surprise was muffled by his colorful scarf, while Blankety just seemed to shrink in on himself. Daring Do surveyed the crowd with a decidedly sharp-edged glare.

Care blushed and steeled herself for a rushed defense. “No, I can’t really be sure. She was wearing a cloak that obscured most of her body, but the coat and tail were the right color, and her cutie mark was nearly spot-on. I know it’s not much, but the sheer possibility that she’s here—”

“She could be anywhere.” Twilight Velvet rolled a hoof, gesturing at all of Ponyville. “In any town, in any city. Why would she be here? What does she have to gain?”

Care frowned. She ran her tongue against the back of her teeth. “I guess that’s what we need to find out.”

Velvet nodded. “Good answer.” She motioned the four of them closer, bringing them into a tight huddle. “Real or not, I’d rather look and not find her than find her where I wasn’t looking. Yearling, Blank, Turner, you guys have stuff to get ready for tomorrow. We’re seeing Luna first thing. Carrot and I’ll make out rounds around town; see if we don’t see anything suspicious. We should be back before the trick-or-treaters head home for the night.”

Time pulled his scarf from his muzzle. “And if you do manage to find the mare?”

“Then keep your ear to the ground and follow the screams.” Velvet pointed an ear towards town hall. “I’ll let the mayor know what we’re doing. Maybe she’ll deputize a brute squad and help with the search.” She tapped a hoof against Care’s chest. “Get suited up.”

“Huh?” Care said. “With what?”

“Your Nightmare Night costume.” Twilight Velvet smirked. “We’ll stick out like sore thumbs if we go plainclothes. Or nude. Are we all clear?”

A chorus of affirmatives answered her. The bell tower rang out the third hour as they entered the castle, headed their separate ways.

Care found herself in one of the many, many guest rooms scattered around the castle. It wasn’t so much decorated as it was occupied by trappings. A mirror was tacked to the wall with glue. A bed that only barely fit the castle’s motif sat beneath a stained-glass window with a metal hinge. She hung her coat in the closet, which had been dug out of the crystal on the wall. Beside it sat the costume she’d worn to the Nightmare Night Masquerade in Canterlot: The outfit of Radiance from the Power Ponies.

She sighed as she slid the soft, stretchy fabric over her hind legs. Her coat wasn’t anywhere near Radiance’s pale yellow, but the purple uniform didn’t seem to clash too much. A temporary dye would have fixed it if she’d had the time.

Her horn glowed to bring the rear of the costume over her rump. She slid her tail through before sitting on the bed to let her forelegs do the rest. The movement brought the closet into sight, as well as the box sitting in one corner. A cover poked out of the opening with the words “Power Ponies” scrawled across the top.

A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Not a trick, not a dream, not an imaginary tale! In this issue the Power Ponies face their darkest hour in the snaking tendrils of the maniacal Mane-iac!”

A wheeze of breath left her chest. She covered her shoulders and zipped the jumpsuit up to her neck. Radiance’s enchanted bracelets clicked into place over her hooves. She looked into the mirror and saw strong muscles, a bright horn, and a snappy costume; all the hallmarks of a superhero.

But she hadn’t saved Celestia.

She hadn’t stopped the villain.

Not yet.

“The last thing I need is a hero complex,” she mumbled to herself as she secured the glistening, crystal-laden mask over her eyes. “If only life were more like the old comic books. Just a little simpler.”

She pushed the door open and almost ran smack-dab into Twilight Velvet. The older unicorn was decked out in a long coat, wearing a deerstalker cap, and had a bubble pipe clenched between her teeth.

Care furrowed her brow. “Fetlock Hooves?”

“What can I say? I relate to a guy who notices every little detail.” Velvet swished her coat and set out at a canter. “Come on. I wanna get a move on before they start giving tours.”

“Tours?” Care hurried to catch up, then matched pace beside Velvet. “Of the castle?”

“Sure. It’s a castle; it’s a holiday.” Velvet pulled the brim of her hat low over her forehead. “Which is why I wanna be especially thorough around the castle. I don’t want any wannabe assassins sneaking into my daughter’s home.”

“I think she’s smarter than that.” Care stepped into one of the castle’s magic-powered elevators and pushed the button for the ground floor. “She’ll use the celebration as a distraction—again—but not to sneak in a tour of the grounds. If the castle is her target and if she’s even here.”

Velvet steadied herself against the elevator’s downward motion. “You doubt you actually saw her?”

“Of course I do.” Care tapped the shiny purple bracelets together. “Unless you know a princess who’s been holed up in Ponyville, I can’t think of a single reason she’s wanna be here. Unless she’s hiding out, and if so, why here? It’s not so big that it would be easy to go unnoticed. There must be something we haven’t figured out, something she wants more than just tracking down princesses to murder.”

Velvet took a sharp breath in, which brought soapy water into her mouth. She coughed it up, holding the pipe away from her head with a flick of her horn. She clenched the tip in her jaw and blew a frustrated scattering of bubbles. “You’re an expert on how Hurricane thinks?”

“Probably not…” Care furrowed her brow. “But out of all of us, you and I are the only ones who’ve fought her. You learn things about a pony when you’re trading blows.”

“Chief of which is ‘Dang, they hit hard.’” Velvet chuckled briefly. “When did you fight her? I thought she never showed up to the masquerade.”

Care lowered her eyebrows. The room jolted as the elevator reached the ground floor with a ding. “When she attacked Celestia.”

Velvet walked through the sliding doors, nodding her head in thought. “So what did you learn then?”

“That she is determined. She is dead-set on achieving her goals, whatever they are. She doesn’t go to the right or left, but always charges head-on.” Care glanced to the side as they passed the throne room, where the seven seats encircled a glowing, magical map table. “She’s not here just to hide. She’s here for a purpose.”

“Alright.” Twilight Velvet blew a large, long bubble that hovered upwards to pop against the ceiling, where it let out a happy little plink. “I agree. Now, how do we use it against her?”

The towering double-doors of the castle’s front entrance loomed into view. Spike and Night Light stood at the base, each wearing costumes of their own. They carried an enormous candy bowl between them, which teetered back and forth.

“She probably… probably isn’t very good with lateral thinking…” Care scratched the base of her horn. “Or has a case of two-dimensional thinking. Gets tunnel vision, maybe? Not a great trait for a pegasus commander.”

“I suspect that’s why she always surrounded herself with good lieutenants like Pansy.” Velvet held her forelegs out to the stallion and the dragon. “Alright, you two. Give me a hug before we make our rounds!”

Spike beat Night Light by one long stride. He gently slid his arms around Velvet’s shoulders and placed a gentle kiss on the side of her head. “What’re you looking for, Mom? Just enjoying Nightmare Night?”

“Afraid not, Spike.” She ruffled his filmy ears. “We’ve got a lead to follow. We should be back before the night is over, so save us some supper.”

Night Light gave her a quick squeeze and a tender smooch. “We’ll keep the light on for you. Be safe.”

“That’s no fun at all.” Velvet turned to the doors and winked. “See you later.”

“See yah,” Spike said. “By the way, Care, the Radiance costume is amazing!”

“Thanks!” Care flicked her mane and got a closer look at him. “Yours is… um…”

A tube of cardboard had been wrapped around his torso, onto which was glued gemstones of every conceivable color and shape. Two other tubes stuck out from his shoulders, similarly decorated. Finally, a cone sat atop his head, with a tiny stained-glass window in the front, made from paper mache. “You like it? It’s not quite as cool as the castle itself, but I think it’s recognizable. And the best part is that I get to eat it tomorrow.”

“It’s impressive.” She nodded as Velvet covered her mouth, stifling a snort. “Very, very impressive.”

***

“Come along, honey,” the unicorn mare said. “We’re falling behind.”

Zephyr pulled himself away from the awe-inspiring display of the Ponyville castle’s throne room. Crystal thrones, grown rather than carved, seated around a map that contained a power nopony in Equestria could adequately explain, save that it was intrinsically tied to the Elements of Harmony. It had grown quiet in recent years. Many suspected it was due to a period of unprecedented peace, but others worried that the Elements were growing weaker.

If that was so, Zephyr thought, another power needed to take their place. He followed the mare, a fellow security guard in Dulcimer’s employ—and more importantly, a fellow member of their initiative. She wore a simple costume with nylon butterfly wings and an antenna-bedecked headband.

It was still a better costume than his cheap alligator-print pajamas. It clashed rather spectacularly with his butter-yellow coat. The foam-filled tail was a nice touch.

“Coming, dearest heart,” he said, slathering as much tender, loving care into his voice as he could. “Just… um… admiring the adornments.”

The mare hooked his foreleg with hers, jerking him towards the rest of the tour group. “Laying it on a bit thick, aren’t you, shnookie nookums?”

“I was never a subtle stallion,” he coughed.

Further comments were interrupted by a gaggle of overexcited foals rushing past them. “Slow down!” a young mare yelped. “Pumpkin, Lackadaisy— Oh, for… Fillyscouts form up!”

Zephyr smiled as he watched the girls form up in a single-file line. They looked to the mare who had spoken with innocent, beaming eyes. The mare looked back with careful, suspicious eyes.

A curly-maned mare dressed as a candy-cane nudged the first mare in the side. “Not tho eathy when there’th ten of them, ith it, Dinky?”

Dinky tugged at the black material of her jumpsuit—Zephyr had heard her call it a “spymare catsuit”—which was stretched taut over her skinny frame. “Come on, girls. It’s very nice of the tour guide to agree to show us all the castle, so if you could all just—”

“Can we see the treasure room?” an orange unicorn filly said. “All castles have a treasure room, right?”

“Wouldn’t mind getting a look at that myself,” Zephyr’s partner whispered.

“As far as I know,” the longsuffering tour guide said in a chipper voice, “Ponyville’s castle has no dedicated treasure room yet. However, I’m sure that Princess Twilight is even now working on accumulating enough important artifacts to justify one.”

“Isn’t the princess in a coma?” one pegasus filly piped up. “I heard she got beat up!”

“My daddy says she’s actually dead and they’re just covering it up!”

“My grandpa says it’s all part of a conspiracy to make people like the princesses more.”

“My mommy says the aliens kidnapped her.”

The tour guide’s ears drooped. Her mouth moved, but words failed her completely. She looked to Dinky and the curly-maned mare with desperation in her eyes as the fillies continued to all but shout out their opinions.

“You know,” Zephyr said loudly, “I wonder, if we get done with the tour sooner, will we have more time to trick-or-treat?”

The fillies squealed at once with this astonishing revelation. The tour guide gathered herself and gave Zephyr a thankful smile, which he returned with a nod. She led them down the hallway, towards whatever corner of the castle was next on the agenda.

“I thought you weren’t subtle,” the mare at his side said.

“I wouldn’t call that subtle,” he replied, “just perceptive.”

She flicked her eyes to the side as they rounded a corner. A window, made from stained glass rather than clear crystal, was embedded in the wall to give the hall more natural lighting. “Facing away from the town. Ground-level. Simple latch. Looks good?”

“Yeah.” He scrunched his muzzle. “Wouldn’t mind something a little higher… nearer the library…” He waved a wing at the tour guide. “Excuse me, ma’am, but will we be able to see the library on tonight’s tour? I hear Princess Twilight has an impressive collection.”

Bored groans from the Fillyscouts turned to cheers when the guide answered. “No. I’m afraid the levels above the fifth floor have been closed for renovations. Rest assured, the ballroom, the princess’ bedroom, and the laboratory are exquisite sights.”

“Renovations, eh?” Zephyr gave the ceiling a skeptical twitch of his ear. “Thanks anyway, ma’am.”

The hair on the back of his neck stood up when his partner grasped his collar in a shimmering magic glow. She yanked him down to her level and pressed her lips against his. The peanut gallery provided by the Fillyscouts erupted into a series of “Aw”s and “Blech”s, while the tour guide let out a sigh of defeat. Zephyr pulled away from the kiss and gave his partner a puzzled look. She smirked.

When the attention had returned to the tour, he muttered into her ear. “I understand maintaining authenticity, but what in the heck was that?”

“Look at the window, lunkhead,” she hissed. “It’s called a distraction.”

He peered over his shoulder. While her magic had been visibly tugging on his costume, it had concealed the finer detail work she’d been doing on the latch. The window hung a hair open, unnoticeably unless one was looking for it. Ready for a simple push from outside to work its mundane magic.

“Help me look for other spots.” She watched his face swing between disgust and confusion. She let out a harsh laugh. “Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it, sugarlump.”

Zephyr hid a scowl from view, turning his head to map out as much of the castle as he could in his head. “Actually, I can’t say I enjoy much of any of this.”

***

The dynamic duo of Radiance and Fetlock Hooves had run out of places to search. Every business had been visited, every back alley scoured, and every pony examined. Short of invading homes, they were out of luck.

The sun came down, and the search reached its end. Twilight Velvet tapped a little more liquid soap into her pipe. “That went well.”

“Well?” Care snorted. “Your definition of ‘well’ is a little different from mine.”

“‘Well’ as in ‘nobody died or got seriously hurt.’” Velvet gave a nod to Applejack from across the street. The mayor tipped her hat and headed back to the office. “In my experience, encounters with Hurricane don’t end with everybody intact.”

“No, but…” Care grunted from deep within her chest. Her gemstones clinked together as she crossed her forelegs. “Encounters with her are going to keep being a problem until we finally take her down.”

“And we can’t take her down until we track her down.” Velvet placed a hoof on Care’s shoulder. “Finding a pony takes time. We have leads. We’ll start following them tomorrow. A mare like that can’t vanish into the crowd forever. We will find her.”

Care said nothing. She was content to stand up and pace along the sidewalk. Velvet followed her, soon coming alongside her. They headed towards the castle, which glowed purple against the last touches of light from the sunset.

“It isn’t just about finding her,” Twilight Velvet said. “Not for you.”

A reddish-orange horn bobbed as Care shook her head. “She needs to be stopped.”

“Yes, she does.” Velvet stepped to the side to dodge a rampaging colt carrying too much candy. “But why do you need her to be stopped so badly?”

Care clenched her jaw. She sent Velvet a mild glare out of the corner of her eye. “I kind of thought you’d feel the same way, considering… stuff.”

“Considering she slit my daughter’s throat?” Velvet snapped. Her shoulders shuddered as she took a deep breath. “Oh yeah, I want to smash her face into solid brick just as a start. But I’m not the one obsessing over it to the point where every word out of my mouth is a variation on ‘Hurricane must be stopped, no matter the cost.’”

Care’s face hardened. She stared straight ahead.

Twilight Velvet sighed. She rubbed her eyes and blew a ring from her pipe. “I’m sorry. That was too harsh. But I have to acknowledge that you’re going through something big, and I’d like to pinpoint it so that I can help you.”

She kicked a rock down a side-road. “We’re teammates, aren’t we? We need to be open with each other, so that we can trust each other.”

Care’s pink eyes reflected the light of a passing street lamp. They turned to spy Applejack heading inside town hall after having a conversation with somebody on the steps. “That’s what everybody says, I guess.”

Twilight Velvet came to a stop, sat on a bench, and patted the seat beside her. They sat together in the small square, facing a fountain that was being shut off by its caretaker.

“That night, when she attacked Celestia…” Care picked at the fabric of her costume. “Creator help me, I hated her so much.”

Care listened to the last plinks of water drift away on the wind. “When she stabbed Celestia, it was like she struck right at my own heart. She killed the Guards under my command, she struck down my princess on my watch, and it burned. It burned so badly. I hated Hurricane with every fiber of my being and I wanted to see her hurt. It was all I could think about.”

She slapped one hoof against the other. “Then some ponies tried to reach out to me. Applejack, Blankety… even Spike. I thought I was doing better. I thought I was cooling down. I just needed to make friends and I’d start to feel right again. But then… then I saw her in the market and it all came rushing back. Fire burning a hole in my chest. I needed to act, to fight back, to kill her or I’d explode!”

The mare slumped against the bench as her words echoed around the square. It took a moment before she could bring herself to look at Velvet. When she did, the older unicorn gestured at Care’s horn.

Care looked up and crossed her eyes to see a trail of smoke rise from her white-hot horn-tip. She extinguished the magic with a grimace. She pulled her mask from her face. “Now you think I’m crazy. Maybe I am.”

Twilight Velvet bent forward to lean against her elbows. She lit her horn to pull her hat from her head. “No, I understand how you feel, Care. But take it from an old soldier; if you don’t separate your emotions from the job, it will mess you up. You will end up doing something you regret. Something you can’t take back.”

“It’s already messed me up.” Care waved her mask through the air on a current of magic. “I can’t trust myself anymore. Not around others, not by myself. I don’t know if I can… if I can be trusted to protect Celestia anymore.”

Velvet faced Care and placed a hoof on each of her shoulders. “Don’t just leave it at that. You can come back better. You can if you stand tall and set your face like flint. You have to take the horseapples that life throws at you and plow through them. You have to grit your teeth and don’t let her get to you. You have to be better than her. You have to chose to be strong.”

Care closed her eyes and bowed her head. “But what if I’m not better? What if I fail? Fall?”

Velvet looked towards the castle, which had cooled from bright purple to dark, starlit blue. “Then make friends who’ll help you back up.”

Care arched her back in a stretch before getting to her hooves. She rubbed the back of her neck and shifted her weight from leg to leg. “I want to.”

Velvet yawned. “Well, you can start tomorrow. Right now I gotta hit the hay. I can’t go falling asleep on Luna, can I?”

“Yeah, I guess not.” A laugh leaped out of Care’s throat. She bared a few teeth in a small smirk. “You really are as cool as the stories say.”

“Stories?”

“Yeah, around the castle. The old Guards still talk about the exploits of Twilight Velvet, former Captain of the Guard. You’re a legend.” Care bit her lip and rubbed her foreleg. “I’ve been meaning to ask; can I have your autograph?”

Velvet’s smile turned up at the corners. “You know, only half of those stories are true.”

Care’s eyebrows came together.

“I had to tone down the other half,” Velvet said. “Nopony would believe me otherwise.”

Care stared at her for a moment before breaking up into snickering laughter. Velvet joined in a second later, and the two walked back toward the castle.

***

Daring Do blushed as she shuffled a few more books into her saddlebags. She made a point to not look at Time Turner, who had been working on his time-stopping gauntlet for the better part of five hours. He had disassembled it completely and was working on polishing and oiling each component individually. He leaned over it with his goggles tight against his eyes, magnifying the parts, allowing him to see the slightest imperfection on the surface. A soft cloth wiped them down with swift strokes.

It was kinda hot in a nerdy sort of way.

She steadied herself. “No shenanigans.” Her ears flicked to a clicking sound across the room, where Blankety was making himself busy reading through various books. She wasn’t sure what changelings liked to read, so when he asked her for recommendations, she basically blurted out the Daring Do series and a couple of archeological magazines. She supposed that covered her bases.

She saw him crawl up the side of a bookcase with his cloven hooves. She shuddered. He was really creepy when he was in his normal changeling body, or whatever it was supposed to be called. Arthropod-form. Something.

She slumped against the table and covered her head. A peek out of the corner of her eye brought Time Turner into view. She shut the rebellious ocular device and clapped a hoof over it. It was so awkward. He could have have said ‘yes.’ Or even ‘no.’ He could have rejected her outright instead of going into the ‘waiting for the right time’ stuff. Instead it was all up in the air and confusing.

He liked her.

She liked him.

Now what?

The clock on the wall chimed eleven-o’-clock with an obnoxious, extended “Cuckoo! Cuckoo!” Spike has resigned himself to cleaning up the decorations tomorrow before he stumbled off to bed. Night Light and Velvet snuck off sometime around nine with heartfelt yawns. Care Carrot had mumbled something incoherent before disappearing herself.

That left the three of them. A workaholic tinkerer, a curious changeling, and a frustrated adventurer.

She turned her attention back to the table and the books scattered on it. A chill ran down her back, right to the tip of her tail, when she spied the Grimoire Alicorn. The cowhide cover was bad enough without the decades’ worth of forbidden knowledge. Still, it formed the backbone of her presentation to Luna.

“I just hope I can let her down slowly,” Daring muttered.

Time tilted an ear back. “Did you say something?”

Daring tossed the book on top of her saddlebags, not bothering to close the flap. “I was wondering how I was supposed to tell the princess about all this freaky alicorn stuff without sending her over the edge. She hasn’t been the most stable pony recently.”

“Why?” He rubbed the focusing crystal down until it shined brighter than the castle. “Did you find something troubling?”

“Uh—” Daring Do froze. The book’s text flashed before her eyes, burned into them like a brand. She didn’t exactly know when he—and the rest of the team—was supposed to find out about the unnatural alicorns. Velvet hadn’t said anything before she went off to scour the town. “Cuss. ‘Troubling’ is a good word for it.”

He pushed his goggles up and smiled. “Want to talk about it?”

Daring Do’s mouth dipped down to one side. She glanced at the cover of the book. The glossy text bearing its name flashed in the flickering candlelight. The silvery metal lock, broken by either age or force, dangled from its spine.

“To heck with that.” Daring Do shuffled herself around to sit next to him, scuffing the floor with her chair’s legs. “I’ve had enough of evil portents and ancient artifacts. Let’s get a look at some modern technology.”

“It’s modern technology in pieces, I’m afraid.” Time hovered his hoof over the scattered metal bits. He pointed across the table, when the other gauntlet sat undisturbed. “If you want to see something that works, you could look at the grapple gauntlet. It’s still a prototype. I’m afraid I haven’t found it overly useful.”

She leaned across the table and scooped it up. Her wing twitched as a spike of red-hot pain shot through it. “Son of a—”

“Something wrong?”

“My stupid wings.” She snatched the device up and clamped it over her foreleg. She glanced at her reflection in its sheen before taking a closer look at the joints and levers. “They hurt pretty bad when I don’t have ambrosia to dull the pain. As long as I don’t move them, they’re good, but…”

She grinned and leaned her face close to the gauntlet. “Who needs wings when you’ve got a grappling hook, right? Suddenly, I’m the Masked Defender! Zipping along the rooftops taking down evildoers one at a time!” She aimed at the ceiling and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened.

Time chuckled. “It’s got a safety lever. It prevents it from going off by accident.” He tapped the sharp end of the hook. “This thing would do a great deal of damage if you ever struck somebody. It’s designed to break through concrete.”

Daring glanced around at their glistening, blue surroundings. “But not crystal, right?”

“Well…” He tilted his head back. “Most likely not. Not without finding, say, a weak point in the crystal’s structure.”

She released the safety lever and put her hoof on the trigger. “May I?”

“Be my guest. If you break anything, you get to be the one to tell Princess Twilight.”

“Fair enough.” Daring Do’s foreleg jerked back as the gauntlet let out a sprang. The sharp-tipped hook careened upwards, hit the ceiling with a resounding snap, and then clattered back to the floor. “Sweet!”

A turn of the crank drew the miniature-sized links of the chain back into the device. After one revolution, the spring inside the metal casing pulled it in the rest of the way. Daring Do hefted the gauntlet, admiring it from every angle. “So you make these things yourself, huh?”

Time Turner grinned. “Of course. Call it a hobby. Or perhaps a calling. I can’t help but fiddle with things, such as— Ah!” He reached under his duster coat and pulled out his four-legged walker. He set it on the table and gave it a nudge, which sent it stumbling forward. It righted itself, taking on a more confident pace.

“So what’s this one?” Daring Do pressed her nose against the edge of the table. She followed the little robot with her eyes. “A prototype for some sort of all-terrain transport? The first in an army of attack robots?”

“Hardly!” Time Turner laughed. He watched carefully as the device reached the edge, paused, and began to walk back the way it came. “It’s a toy. A bauble for little ones to play with. When it’s complete, it’ll look like a little pony. You can bump it—” He tapped the walker on its side, causing it to wiggle on its simple, pointed feet. “—but it won’t fall. Eventually, I’ll make it so that it actually turns around when it gets to the edge… rather than just walk back and forth. I haven’t quite got the kinks out.”

“I know that feeling,” Daring said. She gave the toy a nudge of her own, which sent it scrambling sideways. “A toy, huh? What made you wanna make that?”

“I was retired from all this adventuring stuff.” Time leaned back and crossed his forelegs. “I had thrown in the towel, so to speak. I wanted to try other things, and…” He shrugged, giving Daring a half-smile. “I let Dinky pressure me into it.”

“Dinky who?”

“That’d be Dinky Doo, actually.” He winked. “You’ve seen her, at least. She was the girl working in my shop. I’ve been a friend of her mother’s for years, and they’ve all but adopted me, you might say.” He shook his head with a slight chuckle. “Dinky, though… Smart as a whip, sharp as a tack, and all-around brilliant gel, that one. Tends to get her way, if you know what I mean.”

She gave him a cheeky grin. “I’ve met one or two people like that.”

He placed his hoof over the top of the toy, halting it in its tracks. He scooped it up and hid it from view. “I suppose I can say it’s her way of getting me out of my ‘funk,’ as she so tactfully put it.”

“Heh.” Daring rested her chin against her forelegs. “Got something that doesn’t require technical know-how?”

His nostrils twitched as he sighed. “Nothing more than a placebo, I’m afraid.”

Her eyebrows jumped up. “I’ll take it.”

“Hot cocoa.” Time slid his chair away from the table. “I think Spike said they had a bit of mix in the cupboards.”

“Pfft.” Daring lifted her right hoof and looked for a way to unlatch the gauntlet. “You need to try my mom’s special recipe. None of that Barnyard Bargains bargain bin horseapp—”

Commander Hurricane strode through the doorway.

Time Turner flipped the table on its side, scattering the pieces of his gauntlet across the library floor. He grasped Daring Do by the back of the neck and pushed her down just as several wingblades thudded into the wood and zipped by overhead.

“Oh dear.” Time Turner leaned against the underside of the table, but scootched away when he saw five razor-sharp point digging through the thick wood. He chanced a glance over the edge.

Hurricane’s forehoof kicked out as she flew over the barrier. It smashed against his nose, sending him to the ground. She angled downward and tackled Daring Do. They crashed into the other table, books tumbling around them. Daring lashed out with the gauntleted hoof and connected with the commander’s chin.

Blue light glistened from Hurricane’s coat. It carried from the impact point to her back, where it vanished completely.

Daring Do’s jaw dropped. Light armor coated Hurricane’s back; blue, plated armor with a magic shield designed specifically to absorb blows from kicks or punches. Riot gear.

Hurricane laid into Daring with a rapid-fire series of strikes, bruising and bloodying her nose. Daring swung with a wild left hook, but the commander grabbed it right out of the air. She twisted Daring’s foreleg while she placed her other hoof on the mare’s chest.

Time Turner pushed himself up and galloped to ram his shoulder into Hurricane’s side. She bucked with her hind legs and caught him in the center of his chest. He lifted into the air and landed hard on his back.

Hurricane grasped the sides of Daring’s head and lifted her onto the pile of books. She glared with cold, gray eyes. “Which of these is the Grimoire?”

Daring Do kicked out and hit Hurricane in the stomach. The armor flashed, and the commander didn’t flinch. She stood on her hind legs and extended a wing, revealing one wingblade poised for a slice.

“Which of these is the Grimoire?” Hurricane said slowly.

Time Turner wrapped his forelegs around Hurricane’s wing and jerked her to the side. She stumbled off-balance. He rolled, flipping her end over end. Her head hit the crystal floor with a heavy crack.

Daring Do and Time Turner stood together, facing Commander Hurricane. The assassin stood up, her ears back and her eyes hot. “You are both—”

“Intruders!” a voice said, echoing through the entire castle, enhanced by its sound-carrying enchantment.

“Care,” Daring whispered. She favored Hurricane with a cocky grin. “You’re gonna regret hopping right into the lion’s den, you time-displaced freak.”

Hurricane leapt on them without a word, laying into them with a frenzy of hits that left them both dazed. A crashing uppercut knocked Daring down, while a wing-joint to the throat took Time’s breath away. She stomped on Daring Do’s head and hissed quietly in her ear, “It pays for the lion to fear the hunter.”

***

Care Carrot stumbled out of the bathroom, stifling a yawn as she tried to get her bearings. She hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep, but that hadn’t stopped her body from trying to shut itself down. She touched a hoof to the wall to keep her balance, and to find her way back to her room in the dark. After a moment’s thought, a slight jolt of magic from her horn lit the hallway in a light pink glow.

With a little more to go on than just touch, Care was able to make better time back to her room. She shivered as she turned down the corridor as a slight breeze blew through her tangled mane. That sure woke her up a little bit. She stretched one foreleg over the back of her neck before trooping onward.

She almost ran right into the chest of a towering griffon.

She jumped back several steps, her eyes wide as her mind searched for a response. The griffon was almost as surprised to see her. He lifted a talon and pointed her way. “Take her out quietly.”

Something touched her neck. She tried to speak, but no air could escape. A unicorn mare trotted towards her, her horn glowing dark purple. A similar glow flashed at the corner of Care’s vision, wrapping tighter around her neck like an ethereal garrote. She let the other mare get a little closer. Just a little closer…

The pink shimmer around Care’s horn turned white hot. The other unicorn had time for a single grunt of “Uh?” before a fireball exploded against her chest. She was launched backwards with a scream, smoke in her wake.

The griffon caught her before tossing her to the side with a scowl. He pulled the volleygun from his back and aimed it at Care’s heart.

She was faster than him. A jet of flame jumped from her horn to his wing, turning several feathers to ash instantly. A screech like an eagle nearly deafened her, but she kept her attack concentrated on his torso. The volleygun fell to the ground as he raised his talons to cover his face.

A hoof crashed against the side of Care’s head, cutting off the fire and sending her flying. Two strong, butter-yellow forelegs wrapped around her neck and pinned her against the wall.

Zephyr held on tight as Care struggled in his grip. “I’ll take care of her! Go! Get the mirror!”

Grenadier Lanner growled deep, but he nodded, running with his burnt wing and charred leg folded close to his body. “Use the gun! Shoot her!”

Two other ponies hurried after Lanner, leaving the unicorn mare lying with her hooves curled up against her chest, moaning. Zephyr glanced at the smoke trailing from her body and corrected his hold on Care, pushing her horn away from himself. “I’ll try to make this quick—”

She jerked her head to the side and bit his foreleg. He yelped in surprise, slacking his grip.

Care grasped his legs with her own and kicked up and over. Her hind legs connected with his forehead, snapping his head back. She slid out of his grip, kicking once in the chest and again in the stomach. She spun on him, her horn flaring bright, her lips pursed.

She took a deep breath in and let it out, trusting in the castle’s magic to carry her voice. “Intruders!”

Eyes

Hurricane raced through Ponyville, her legs beating a steady rumble on the roads. All around, she could hear the flap of wings. Royal Guards covered the town.

Five were in hot pursuit of her.

She dove into an alley and slumped against the wall. A firm press of her hoof staunched the flow of blood from her wing, but could not hold it back for long. Her wingblades had tumbled from among her feathers when the hook impacted, and the remainder had been thrown. Her body ached from the beating she’d received and given.

“Over here!” came a shout. They’d found her again.

She ran at a stumbling gallop down the narrow alley. She just had to reach the wagon across the street. Then she would be safe. She could escape. The mission would be complete and she could focus on ending Dulcimer’s insane plan. She could bring true freedom to Equestria.

A set of hooves against her back threw her to the ground.

She looked up to see a Royal Guardspony clad in silvery metal. They reached out to grab her. She wrapped her forelegs around one of the pony’s and rolled, snapping her enemy’s leg out of joint. The guard screamed in agony and collapsed in an armored heap.

An unseen blow sent Hurricane’s skull smacking against the pavement. Light flashed behind her eyes. She held her head. Four ponies stood before her, tall and strong. The pony she’d injured held their leg tight against their body, fashioning a quick sling with a cloth.

“Ahh-ah-ah, ahh-ah. Ahh-ah-ah, ahh-ah.”

The guards’ eyes unfocused, and they turned as one to look at the wagon. An earth pony mare climbed down from the back, singing a low, haunting tune. Smoke drifted from around the soldiers’ hooves to climb upwards to the mare’s glowing necklace.

“Seems you five got a fright
Patrolling on this Nightmare Night
But Hurricane got away
Oh-oh, whoa-oh oh
There’s no reason for you to stay
Whoa-oh, whoa oh, oh, oh…”

Hurricane rose to her knees. She spread her good wing to distance the soldiers from herself, but they didn’t pay her any attention. They were frozen in the moment. She stood up and made her way to the earth pony mare’s side. “The Mother. It’s an honor to finally meet you.”

Merry Mare touched a hoof to her amulet. “Likewise, Commander. If you’ll just climb into the cart, I’ll handle these good ponies.”

She cleared her throat. “Captain? May I help you?”

The soldier at the head of the group shook his head. His expression changed from blank to severe in a millisecond. “Ma’am, have you seen a pegasus mare run past? She has a sky-blue coat, a white mane, and several injuries.”

“I’m afraid not, sir,” Merry replied. She flicked her tail, urging Hurricane onward. “Is she alright?”

“No, ma’am. I’m afraid she is a highly dangerous individual. I’d advise you to stay indoors. If you see her, do not approach. Contact the guard immediately.”

“Oh!” Merry took a step back. “Oh, my. I’ll be sure to do so. Thank you very much.”

“Thank you.” The captain looked over his shoulder and addressed his injured teammate. “Are you good to fly?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good. Fan out and holler if you see her. Do not engage alone!”

Hurricane lay across one of the wagon’s seats. She was alone with the driver, who set off at a slow pace. Merry Mare climbed into the back of the cart and sat across from her. “So, I take it the mission went well?”

“I am… afraid I’m not sure.” Hurricane groaned and tried to sit upright. “I was forced to take the lives of two of our number when they were captured.”

Merry placed a hoof on her back, pushing her down with a surprising amount of strength. “It’s hard, I know. I had to clean up a few loose ends in the Canterlot Police Department’s lockup. Trust in the fact that it furthered the cause.” She smiled. “Rest for now. We’ll have you fixed up with some ambrosia soon enough.”

“Thank you.” Hurricane settled her chin against the wood board. “Has Lanner reported in yet?”

“Absolutely. The mirror has been recovered. The first step has been taken in freeing our Master from his confinement.” Merry leaned forward, the low light from the moon reflecting on her glasses. “It’s only a matter of time before we won’t need to rely on alicorns for the movement of the sun and moon.”

Hurricane nodded. She rubbed her hooves together. “And the tome? The Grimoire Alicorn?”

Merry looked off into the night, waving a hoof. “Never mind that. It’s been taken to Dulcimer, and he can do what he likes with it.”

Hurricane gritted her teeth, but kept up an outward appearance of calm. “Has Zephyr reported back, yet?”

Merry’s smile vanished. She raised an eyebrow and pressed her lips together. “From what we’ve heard from Lanner and the Royal Guard going in and out of the castle, Zephyr is dead.”

Hurricane stood up straight and ignored the fiery pain in her body. “What? No! No, he can’t be! He was… Oh, Creator, he…”

Merry jerked her head back, a frown spreading across her lips. “Another casualty in the war, I’m afraid. He fought well, but we all have our limits—”

“He can’t be!” Hurricane reached across the wagon and grabbed the collar of Merry’s cloak. “He can’t be dead! I need him! I need him to…”

Merry lowered her ears to her scalp. “Commander, take a moment and ask yourself: ‘Is this wise?’”

Hurricane looked down at her hooves. She released Merry and sank back into her seat. “Zephyr…” She swallowed a sharp pain in her throat. “Zephyr had a very important mission to perform. H-he…”

She shook her head. “We have to stop Dulcimer. He seeks to turn himself into an alicorn, Mother! He wants Equestria for himself—”

“And for now, what he wants is not our immediate problem.” Merry rapped her hoof against the bench. “We have plans for him in the near future should he accomplish his goals. Let him play with his test tubes while we change Equestria.”

“It’s not a matter of if he’ll accomplish his goals,” Hurricane snapped. “But when!”

Merry fiddled with her gemstone. “I understand that you’re upset about your friend’s death, but—”

“You’re Creator blasted right I’m upset!” Hurricane propped herself on her forelegs. “I’m beyond upset! I’m furious! That tome needs to be destroyed, Mother! It needs to be destroyed and Dulcimer needs to be ripped apart! He seeks to undermine everything we’ve fought for! I’ll not let Zephyr’s sacrifice—”

“Enough!”

Merry Mare moved quickly to hide her snarl. She coughed into her hoof and put on a picture of serenity. Veins throbbed on her neck. “I understand your concerns, Commander. I share them, to a point, but I also know that we have precious little time to do certain things. Once Luna shows Equestria how a crazed Nightmare rules the country, we will have to act quickly to fill the resultant power vacuum. We don’t have time to focus on one Viscount’s power grab.”

She adjusted her glasses and gave the commander one of her best smiles. “I hate to say it, but we need Dulcimer. We need his funding. He will overstep his bounds one day, and it will be his last mistake, but we cannot continue without his coffers. Our troops need armor and weapons. Our people need inlets to the government. You yourself would be unable to do your good work without his assistance.”

“He has Sombra’s book.” Hurricane held her injured wing, wincing as the wagon ran over a bump. “Every wicked, vile thing that monster did is now in the clutches of one who would use it to send Equestria into ruin.” She spat blood onto the floor of the wagon. “One who knows what we are, Mother.”

“I am well aware of what he knows,” Merry growled. “More so than even he does. He knows who you are and where you come from, he knows we exist and what our goals are, but he does not know me. He does not know the Maid or the Crone either. He does not know where we are or what we are capable of. He does not know the numbers of our supporters. What little he knows is what I fed to him through Scuttlebutt. Trust me when I say he is controlled.”

Hurricane leaned back. She regarded Merry with lidded eyes and bared teeth. “You found it necessary to tell him my story?”

“He would not have trusted you unless he thought he had something to hold over you.” Merry’s amulet flashed in the shadows. “I took a calculated risk.”

“You left me flat-footed and unprepared!” Hurricane flared her good wing. Feathers fluttered to the seat, ragged and rumpled. “I swear this very moment on Platinum’s grave, I will see that book burned, Mother. I swear it on Zephyr’s corpse!”

Merry Mare’s legs tremored. Her jaw creaked as her teeth ground together. She sucked in a deep breath, her necklace sparkling. Her eyes flashed daggers.

Hurricane held her breath.

The Mother’s face softened, but the murder never left her eyes. She smiled wide and placed a hoof on Hurricane’s shoulder. “Very well; you must do what you think is right.”

Hurricane stared at the hoof. She waited for a sign of ill will, but none came. “Th-thank you for your blessing.”

“It doesn’t stop there.” Merry patted Hurricane and drew a map from beneath her cloak. “This is something I know you’ve been seeking for a long, long time. As a reward for a job well done, a mission complete, I would like to invite you to the Grove.”

“The Grove of Golden Apples?” Hurricane wrinkled her snout. “Why?”

“We have found it, Commander,” Merry whispered. “We’ve discovered the recipe. We’ve unlocked the secret. The very secret you’ve desired all these years…”

Hurricane’s jaw dropped. Her heart raced. She ran a hoof through her mane as sweat broke out on her brow. A salty tear fell from her eye and stabbed her scar with intense pain. “Y-you’ve found… you’ve found it? I can speak with—?”

“Yes, Hurricane,” Merry said with a widening smile—a smile akin to a snake about to bite. “We have achieved contact with the dead. You can finally speak with your friends.”

***

Centurion Stonewall, Captain of the Canterlot Royal Guard, stood in the midst of the Ponyville castle library’s wreckage. She was a tall pegasus pony in shimmering, golden and purple armor. Rather than the usual enchanted white-and-blond of the Royal Guard, her coat and mane remained natural. Off white hair peered through the few uncovered portions of her legs and face, while her fiery red mane crowned her helmeted head.

A Royal Guard lieutenant dug through bomb debris, shoveling aside burnt pages with his hooves. He let out a shout. “I found someone! He’s breathing! Get a stretcher!”

Stonewall leaned over the lieutenant’s shoulder. A brown earth pony lay across the floor, breathing but unresponsive. She recognized him by sight: Time Turner, Knight of Time. Medics rushed up to move Time safely and quickly. She was no medical expert, but it was clear he was going to need a long, long medical leave.

The lieutenant sighed. “Never meet your heroes.”

“What was that, Lieutenant?” she snapped.

He reared up and spun around, landing at attention before her. He kept it short and sweet, as she expected. “The old saying: ‘Never meet your heroes.’ Had a strong example of why that’s true, ma’am. I’ve heard stories about the Knights of Harmony since I joined up.”

Her flinty eyes scanned the library before coming to a rest on his face. “I have, too. Now’s not the time to reminisce. Do your job, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The lieutenant saluted. “Most of the fighters have been called for, either due to finding their bodies or from the testimonies of Doctor Do and Captain Carro—”

“Changeling!”

Stonewall’s head snapped around slightly faster than the lieutenant’s. She was moving long before his legs could respond. She cantered around a corner, her wings spread and ready for a fight. “Changeling?” she asked. “Where?”

She was answered without a word. In the midst of the isle there sat a pile of chitin and green mucous. Craggy hooves bent in pain. Eye sockets stared lifelessly at the ceiling. The mouth lay open in a silent scream. A hole had been ripped into the creature’s back, from which trailed the slime.

Centurion Stonewall scowled at the empty exoskeleton. “Where is the monster?”

“The slime trail leads to the far wall, ma’am,” a soldier said. “We have the creature cornered.”

Stonewall’s metal-shod hooves clanged against the crystalline floors as she tramped to the changeling’s location. She wrinkled her nose in disgust at the sight.

Blankety Blank huddled against the wall, his body covered in the same mucous he had used to slide himself from his carapace. Where once had been hardened armor, now there was only new, white, weak flesh. He ran a spongy hoof down his flanks. Several gill-like air slits opened and closed along his sides with each breath. A tiny knob of a horn adorned his forehead.

His multifaceted eyes blinked upwards. “C-Centurion St-St-Stonewall. N-nice to meet you.”

Stonewall scowled. She tilted her hoof to reveal the sharpened edge along one side of her boot. “You know me, beast, but I can’t say the same for you. Where did we meet? At a party, perhaps? Or at the barracks? Perhaps we passed each other by during the changing of the guard?”

Blankety’s mouth popped open. “Th-this isn’t what it looks like.”

“No?” Stonewall stomped a hoof. “You weren’t at the palace earlier this month? You weren’t the changeling who appeared in Prince Blueblood’s business meeting? You weren’t the monster who escaped right out from under my nose?”

Blank turned away. “I was p-protecting him—”

“Look at me!” Stonewall snarled in the changeling’s face. “Look me in the eye, filth!”

Blankety flinched. He turned slowly, shuffling his forward half against the ground. He propped himself up on his forelegs, but his weakened knees couldn’t support his weight. Lying down, he tilted his chin back.

Stonewall’s eyes bored into him. “Give me a reason I shouldn’t have you squashed.”

Blankety heaved a breath. “I’m w-working with Twilight Velvet in the marehunt f-for Hurricane.”

Her ear twitched. She narrowed her eyes and tilted her head. “Do you think I’m really that stupid?”

He gnawed his lips with his fangs. “Do y-you think I’m dumb enough t-to lie about that?”

Every muscle in Stonewall’s body tensed. She snapped her head to one side. “Lieutenant, get this thing in chains. Make sure it can’t use its magic. We’ll bring it back to Canterlot for a full interrogation.”

The lieutenant nodded. He raised a hoof to signal the medics. “Bring a stretcher—”

“Do not forget the chains,” Stonewall said. “Make sure it can’t move.”

The soldier paused with his leg hanging in the air. “Ma’am, if we chain him in his current condition, it could affect his exoskeleton growth—”

“Soldier.” Stonewall lowered her head and glared at him from under her eyebrows. “Was I unclear?”

“They won’t be necessary, Centurion,” a voice said from behind them. “He’s on our side.”

Stonewall looked over her shoulder. She turned fully around and saluted. “Captain Carrot.”

Care saluted in return, accidently bumping the bandage wrapped around her head. “Ow. Centurion Stonewall. Glad you could make it to the party.”

Stonewall flicked her eyes to the left and right. “Seems not all the guests were invited.”

“No.” Care pointed her horn at Blank. “But he was. He’s telling the truth.”

“Yeah?” Stonewall glowered. “You trust this… changeling? It’s a dangerous thing, underestimating those creatures.”

“Not underestimating him is why we’re working with him.” Care pursed her lips. “He’s got the right stuff.”

Blankety’s ears drooped. He stared at his hooves. “Th-thank you.”

Stonewall shut her eyes tight and swished her tail. “Does he need medical attention?”

“Yes, please.” Blankety rested his chin against the floor. “P-painkillers would be a nice start. A bandage for my kn-knee, too.”

The medics looked to the centurion. She gritted her teeth. “Did you hear him or not? Get him what he wants.”

They carried Blank away on the stretcher, feeding him soothing medicines and wrapping gauze around his bleeding leg. Once she and Care were alone, Stonewall opened her eyes and laid her ears against her head. “Horseapples.”

Care Carrot sighed, leaning against a bookcase. “I’m glad you’re here, Stony.”

“What the hay happened here, Care?” Stonewall waved a hoof, gesturing at the carnage. “What sort of enemies do we have that can infiltrate a castle and put legendary ponies like Velvet and Daring Do in the hospital?”

Care scratched an itch on her back that turned out to be a scab. Red collected on her hoof. “A legend come to life. I’ve fought her twice now and been outclasses both times. She’s a machine. Unfeeling and strong. She just keeps coming.” She shrugged, forcing out a sigh. “And I don’t know if I can match that.”

Fire burned in her eyes. She blinked through the tears. “I had her. I had her. She was mine and I let her go… all because of a stupid mistake!”

She kicked the bookshelf, sending several tomes to the floor. She ran a hoof through her long mane. “I don’t know where to go next. Where? What do we do after this?”

“I can give you a next step,” Stonewall said. She gestured with a wing for Care to follow her. They walked into the hallways, headed for the staircase. “Princess Luna is coming tonight. She’s only a few minutes away. She’ll want to be debriefed on the battle and what the assassin wanted.”

“Huh.” Care snorted and rubbed an aching leg muscle. “She won’t be happy.”

“Nopony is right now,” Stonewall said. “We’ve got one silver lining. We captured that unicorn mare you burned. She’s going to have a lot to talk about, I think.”

Care hung her head. “Okay. Let me know what you find out.”

Stonewall sent her a sidelong glance. “Sure, but tell me this: How’d you end up working with a changeling?”

“He’s Twilight Velvet’s secret weapon, I guess.” Care shook her head slowly to avoid a headache. “Beyond that… I’m not really sure.”

“If Velvet trusts him, then…” Stonewall wrinkled her forehead. “But he’s still…”

“Not all changelings participated in the Siege of Canterlot, Stony.”

“You weren’t there,” Stonewall hissed. “You didn’t see it. You didn’t see the battle—no, the rout. You didn’t see the damage they caused, the lives they destroyed. You didn’t see…”

She took a steadying breath. “You didn’t look into the eyes of the ponies they enthralled. The blank, dead, soulless eyes.” She wrinkled her forehead. “My sister, Bon Bon… Her friend Lyra was never the same after that.”

Care glanced away. She winced at the sight of Zephyr’s decimated remains. “Speaking of never being the same…”

Stonewall flapped her wings, her lips parting. “Pony feathers, what happened to his head?”

“Word of advice: Never get into hoof-to-hoof combat with a dragon.” Care forced herself away from the scene and turned to the spiraling staircase. Claw marks stood out where Spike had gouged the steps in his haste to run. “Spike… was… He’s had a hard night.”

“Spike? Princess Twilight’s assistant?” Stonewall gave the wreckage another long look. “Huh. Sign that kid up for the guard.”

“I wouldn’t ask him just yet. Killing that stallion hit him hard.” Care limped down the stairs. Her leg ached each time she put weight on it. She yawned wide and slapped her cheeks. “Hay, Stony… mind if I ask a personal question?”

“Mind if I chose not to answer?” Stonewall set her jaw. “Permission granted.”

“Have you ever killed anybody?”

Stonewall walked in silence for a good minute, not speaking until they had gone down three floors. “The year nine-ninety-seven. A rogue pack of diamond dogs attacked a herd of cows south of Appleoosa. My squad got sent in to rescue them. Killed a dog during the scuffle.”

Care watched Stonewall’s face carefully. She never saw so much as a twitch.

“Year one-thousand was the Siege of Canterlot—at my predecessor’s wedding.” Stonewall bobbed her snout. “Got in a fight with three changelings. They wouldn’t give up until they were all snuffed out.”

She extended a wing, popping the joint. “I got promoted to Centurion. When Shining Armor was crowned prince, I got his old job. I haven’t been doing much field work these days, so there isn’t much opportunity. I’m not complaining.”

Care lifted her gaze upwards as they entered the throne room. The map table was cold and quiet. “How do you decide when to take a life?”

“In the heat of combat, there isn’t time to ‘decide.’” Stonewall stood at attention and watched the soldiers milling around. “You act and you deal with the consequences later.”

Care furrowed her brow. “And if you make a mistake?”

Stonewall turned to look right at her, her eyes bright and intense. “You deal with the consequences later.”

***

Luna disembarked from her chariot on the steps of the Ponyville castle. She stared up at the battlements and just made out the shattered stained crystal windows near the top floor. A wing of pegasi orbited the highest tower, patrolling the perimeter.

A whoosh sounded from her right. She took a step back to give Andean’s impressive wingspan room to coast in for a landing. The massive griffon strode to the double-doors. His scaled armor trailed down his chest to buckle around his midsection. A brutish helmet bedecked with a long golden feather sat atop his brow. A sigh broke from his beak as he lifted his head to Canter Mountain. “There’s little chance a resolution will come tonight, is there?”

“I do not believe so.” Luna’s silvery armor glinted in the moonlight. She bowed her head to give the guards the signal to open the castle gates. “The assassin has not been seen since she broke a guard’s leg two hours ago.”

“Krar.” Andean followed her into the hallway, glancing up at the walls grown from crystal. “Surely she left a clue. Prisoners?”

“Just the one,” Luna replied. “She’s being treated for third-degree burns to the chest and forelegs. Captain Carrot fights for keepsies, it seems.”

Andean frowned. “‘Keepsies’?”

“Um…” Luna shrugged. “High stakes?”

“Indeed.” Andean slid the edges of his beak together. “Will we be meeting any members of the team you’ve put together, or are they recovering as well?”

“We shall speak with Captain Carrot now, and the others when they’ve had time to mend.” Luna looked ahead and spied Care sitting with the Captain of the Guard, near the open circle of thrones. “I am grateful that we did not lose anypony in the fight this time.”

Stonewall bent at the knee on their approach. “Your Majesty. Your Grace.”

Care watched them for a moment before hauling herself to her feet. She bowed her head, squaring her hooves so that she didn’t fall onto her face. “Princess Luna.”

“Rise, my little ponies.” Luna looked from the rock-like face of the Captain of the Guard to the far more tired face of her sister’s personal guard. “Care, please stand.”

She heard Andean ruffle his feathers. Probably because of her informality, she thought. She ignored him. “Care, can you tell us what happened?”

Worn and weary eyes met Luna’s own; hollow and pale. A scab stood out from under the bandage around Care’s head. The mare’s mane was matted and tangled. Her expression was limp and quiet.

“They came in the middle of the night,” Care said, her voice crackling out of a dry throat. “Through the windows. They came prepared for a fight. I held a couple up in the corridor, but the rest got past me. Spike…” Care shook her head. “Once I took care of those goons, I headed downstairs to cut off their escape route. I found Hurricane…”

Her horn lit up with a soft pink glow. She lifted a volleygun from across the room and let it clatter at Luna’s hooves. “Turns out these things only give you one shot, and this was empty. I didn’t even slow her down.”

Andean surged forward, brushing Luna aside with a wing. He gripped the volleygun in his massive talon and gawked at it. “Where did you get this? Who had it? Where did they find—?”

“There was a griffon in her crew,” Care said. “I knocked it out of his grip before he got away. He one of yours?”

“These… these are unspeakably rare.” Andean’s wings spread halfway, covering the ponies around him in shadows. A growl rose up from his breast. “The assassin uses griffon metals and now griffon weapons?”

Luna jerked a step backward as Andean brought his beak close to her. “There can be no doubt!” he shouted. “One of my people is aiding this monster! I swear I shall not rest until this… this… this traitor is brought before me! He shall be allowed to endanger our world no longer!”

He slammed his fists against the floor and turned his head. One eye glared at Care. “Who was he? What did he look like? Have you seen him around the castle?”

“I-I don’t know.” Care looked away from his intense stare. “I might have seen him among the Blitzwings, but I can’t be sure. Just—just look for the griffon with burns.”

Luna extended a wing, touching Andean’s shoulder and guiding him back from Care. “Is there anything else you can tell us?”

Centurion Stonewall stepped up. “We can confirm that the attackers stole a magic mirror from Princess Twilight’s library. They left once they acquired it.”

Luna narrowed her eyes. The portal? What could they want with that? “Nothing else was stolen?”

“We aren’t sure, Your Majesty.” Stonewall flicked her eyes upward. “It will be a while before we can properly catalogue the damage done. Right now, it’s a mess up there. That’s all we know.”

Care nodded, her eyes on her hooves.

“Very well.” Luna turned to Andean to say something, but stopped short when she saw the way he clenched his talons. She cleared her throat and gave the soldiers a small smile. “Thank you for your service tonight. Care, I suggest you take some time to recuperate. Relax. Take a trip back home—”

“My place is here right now.” Care sucked a quick breath through her nose. “Your Majesty.”

Luna wrinkled her brow. She lifted a silver-shod hoof and touched it to Care’s cheek. “I have seen those eyes before, young one. You need to rest.”

Care’s mouth dropped open. Her ears twitched. “B-but I—”

“You are tired, and continuing forward will not make it less so.” Luna bent down to press her forehead against Care’s, careful to angle her shimmering horn away. “Rest. Spend time with your friends and family. Enjoy the small, good things this life has to offer. Do not run yourself into the ground, as I did. Rest.”

Care tipped over into Luna’s forelegs. The princess set her gently on the ground. She watched the guard sleep soundly, soft snores drifting from her mouth.

“Centurion,” Luna said, “please take the captain to her guest room. She will sleep until tomorrow afternoon. At that point, make certain she is fed.”

“A-as you command, Your Majesty,” Stonewall stuttered. She signaled for a stretcher.

Luna lifted her helmet from her head and set it on Twilight’s throne. She ran a hoof over the dark table and shook her mane free. “Andean, do you know whose volleygun that is?”

“No.” His growl rose in volume. “We do not allow personalization of the volleyguns. This is the same as any other.” He let the weapon clatter to the ground. “But we shall know him by his plumage. None of my Blitzwings have seen combat since we came to your shores. Save this one.”

He rested his claws on the hilt of his gold-trimmed broadsword. “And if need be, when I find him, he shall die by my own sword.”

Luna rubbed her snout with a hoof. “If it comes to that, then I wish you luck. If you have any questions, feel free to ask the guards.”

Andean raised an eyebrow. “You’re going somewhere.”

“I must see a friend.” Luna trotted up the stairs, calling over her shoulder. “A friend who so desperately needs one of his own right now.”

Andean gave his right wing a flap. “Then I wish you luck as well.”

Luna’s boots dinged merrily against the crystalline steps; she cringed at the contrast. It was a short climb to what Twilight had dubbed the “Kitchen Floor.” A few guards milled around in the small cooking nook, documenting Hurricane’s reentry into the castle. The table has been split asunder, and the chairs had collapsed beneath the blow.

She moved beyond the room. Her sights were set on one room in particular, with a door that had been locked for the better part of the night. She lifted a foreleg and knocked. “Spike?”

She heard nothing from the far side. “Spike, it is Princess Luna. I would like to speak with you.”

She sat down and waited. Her glimmering tail danced behind her. “I… know the past few weeks have been a difficult time. A trial. A tribulation, as we called it in the old days. We are under attack, and that is a hard thing to weather.”

She blinked the dampness from her eyelashes. “I faltered. We all do, from time to time, but my… responsibilities mean that my failures are amplified.”

She lowered her ears, letting them droop down. “You have not faltered. You have only ever stood strong and steadfast. Your actions tonight were not the acts of a monstrosity, but of a noble protector and gallant friend. I pray that… you will never become proud of these deeds, but that you can accept them as having been the right thing to do.”

She enveloped herself with her wings, bringing them in tight like a cape. “Twilight came to me in a dream. It was really her, make no mistake. It took her to remind me that when times are hard, we must stand together. We must cleave, each to the other, in order to gain strength and encouragement. If you will let me, Spike, I would be honored to count you as a friend.”

Luna heard a faint sob from behind the door. She gulped down a breath. “Spike? Will you let me in? Please, share your worries.”

There was a soft scraping, and then endless quiet.

Luna waited a few minutes more before standing. “If your answer changes, you know how to reach me. Take care, noble dragon.”

Inside the room, Spike pulled his ear away from the door. He stumbled up to his bed and flopped over into it. He gripped his ragged pillow tight, stifled weeping clawing its way from his chest.

***

Time Turner rested the side of his face against the pillow. He stared at the midday sun through his hospital room’s window. He shifted his leg and groaned when his IV got tangled up in his bed sheets.

He made a point not to look at the scarred stump that remained of his right foreleg. The grenade had shredded it instantly, and did nearly the same thing to the rest of his body. Pockmarks dotted his flesh where shrapnel had done its dirty work. Bare patches in his coat were the result of emergency surgery to repair his ravaged skin and muscle. He gritted his teeth and hissed as a bit of pain speared through the dulling morphine.

“Doctor?” He felt a well-meaning but painful nudge in his side. “Are yah gonna eat or what?”

Time Turner raised his head so that he could look the pony in the face. A smile touched his lips as he looked into earnest, golden, askew eyes. “Yes, Derpy. I’ll eat in a moment. Thank you.”

He lowered his nose towards the lunch tray spread across his torso. A meager meal of tasteless hayfries and soggy greens awaited him. “Are you sure you couldn’t smuggle in a pinch of salt?”

“The docs say yah need to keep your fluids, and salt ain’t gonna help with that.” Derpy Doo crossed her forelegs and shook her head adamantly. “You’re on a strict diet as long as you’re here, Doctor.”

Time sighed. He bent low and chomped a mouthful of lettuce. He chewed the mushy glob and smiled. “Mm. So good.”

Derpy frowned. She leaned back in her chair and flopped open a book. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“No, I’m actually… urgh… a very good liar.” Time licked a bit of hay stuck between his teeth. “I just know better than to lie around you.”

She glanced up from her page. She tried to hide the dour look on her face behind a bright grin. “Yah got that right.”

A hoof thumped against the door. A grayscale mane poked through the opening. “So, hay, can I visit?”

Time felt a heavy weight in his chest. He lifted his left foreleg. “Of course, Dr. Yearling. Please come in.”

Daring Do shuffled in, her leg in a sling to help her recover from the dislocation. Bandages held back the flow of blood from several cuts. She bobbed her head to Derpy. “Hi.”

“Dr. Yearling, this is my good friend Ditsy Doo.” Time tipped his head to her. “Ditsy, this is A.K. Yearling. She’s the author of the Daring Do series, believe it or not.”

“My friends call me Derpy.” Derpy held out her right hoof. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

“Likewise.” Daring sat down to lift her left leg. She met Derpy’s with a bump. “I’ve, uh, heard good stuff about you from Time. And your daughter’s pretty cool, too.”

“Thanks.” Derpy fiddled with her wingtips. “Your, um, books are pretty neat.”

“Thanks.” Daring scratched her shaggy mane. She set her eyes on Time and bit her lip.

His brown mane, normally spiky and wacky, was unkempt and nearly white. His face wasn’t young and strong, but weak and aged. Crow’s feet grabbed his eyes and smile lines sat alongside his mouth. He was almost unrecognizable.

Except for his bright, intelligent eyes. Those she could recognize just fine.

He sighed. “I’m sorry you have to see me like this. Tired. Old. Broken.”

“You’re…” She rubbed the back of her neck. “You’re thirty-five?”

“Last time I checked.” He laughed humorlessly. “Time travel is a tricky business, Dr. Yearling. It hurts. A loop with no end, a limited life, and this is the result.”

“H-he’s gotten real good with the illusions,” Derpy said, trying to maintain an upbeat tone. She almost succeeded. “Real good with the makeup an’ that.”

Time flicked an ear. “So, was there something I could help you with, Dr. Yearling?”

“Amber.” Daring Do circled around the bed to rest her hoof on his left foreleg. “Please, if you’re gonna use that name, just call me Amber.”

Time Turner glanced down at her hoof. He took it in his own. “Very well, Amber Kestrel Yearling. Very well.”

Derpy bit down on her lips to slow the smile breaking out over her face. “Hay, I just remembered something nonspecific I needed to do in town. I’ll come by later to say hi. Dinky’s coming, too. She says she wants to show yah something.” She stood up, bumping the heart monitor with a stray wingtip. “Oops! See yah later, Doctor!”

She galloped through the doorway and nearly bowled over an orderly. A shout of “Sorry!” was followed by several others as the pegasus mare made her way through the hospital.

“‘Doctor?’” Daring laughed quietly. “You’re a doctor, too, now?”

“It is known to a very select few,” Time said, “that I have a doctorate in chronology.”

Daring snorted. She gave him a lopsided smirk. “That sounds like the punch-line to a bad joke.”

“Oh, I’ve gotten a few prolonged giggle-snorts.” Time leaned back and peered through the window. “It’s a hard sell, at times.”

Daring kept his hoof clutched in hers. She scootched her chair around to face the sun. She leaned her cheek against the padded backrest. “You working through another hard sell right now?”

Time quelled the urge to itch the leg that wasn’t there anymore. “I fought again, Daring. I got hurt again. I got hurt very, very badly. Again.”

“Is this it?” Daring Do craned her neck to see over her shoulder. She studied the lines tracing their way across Time’s face. “I mean, I can totally understand. If it is. It’s cool. You’ve… you’ve done a heck of a lot. You’ve been through a heck of a lot more than—than I think you really should have. I-I mean…”

Her lips trembled. “I-I’m sorry. I’m really, really dang sorry.”

“No. No, no, no, no.” He raised her hoof and squeezed. “No, you don’t have to be sorry, Daring. None of this was your fault—”

“It was, too.” A tear fell down her cheek. She wiped it on her shoulder. “I was the one who convinced you to jump back in. I was the one who got you back into the fight.”

“Oh, come now, Daring. I’m a big enough colt to make my own decisions.” He met her eyes and perked his ears up. “I decided to jump back into it. It was my own choice. My own call.”

He gave her the strongest grin he was capable of conjuring up. “And if I’m being perfectly honest with myself, there are a great many things about it I don’t regret.”

Daring Do felt a little heat in her cheeks. She chuckled. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yes.” Time lowered an eyebrow. “In fact, I’d say there are some things I am downright delighted to have experienced.”

Daring Do pressed her lips tight. She stood up from the seat and placed her left foreleg on the bed. “Scoot over.”

Time groaned as he hefted his body to the side. “I… huh… assume you’re not making a grab for my honor?”

“Cool your jets, Doc. I’ll respect your wishes.” Daring Do eased herself against his side. She rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes. “See? This is me being all respectful and stuff.”

He looped his left foreleg around her, avoiding her injured leg and her aching wings. “Thank you. And I’ll do my best to make you feel… well… let’s say ‘special.’”

She smiled. “I think I like being special.”

Time shut his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of her snuggling against him. “I think I do, too, Daring. I think I like it quite a bit.”

Awaken

Centurion Stonewall hovered over the hospital bed. The prisoner had been strapped to it, both to prevent her escape and to prevent her from hurting herself. The unicorn mare’s third-degree burns were severe enough that she was unable to move without extreme pain.

A nurse brushed past to change the patient’s medicinal drip. “Excuse me, Captain.”

“Centurion, please. Captain of the Guard is my title, not my rank.” Stonewall flicked an ear. “Can she talk?”

“Well, she can.” The nurse shrugged. “Whether she’ll tell you anything depends on her.”

The prisoner groaned. She opened her eyes and met Stonewall’s steely gaze. She smirked. “Hey. Looks like I’m a popular gal.”

Stonewall waved a wing. “It gets better.”

Princess Luna stepped out of the shadows. Her horn glowed, drawing the prisoner’s bonds tighter. “Miss Teacup. We need to talk.”

Teacup’s eyes jumped between the centurion and the princess. “I want an attorney.”

“You have that right.” Luna cinched the straps another notch. “I also have the right to protect the lives of my little ponies. Who are you working for?”

“Didn’t you read the docket?” Teacup sneered. “I work for Locksmith Security, on a contract operation for the Blueblood estate.”

“We are well aware of what you put on your résumé,” Luna said. “I want to know who contracted your criminal operations.”

Teacup noticed that her straps were especially tight around her forelegs. “Can I get a little wiggle-room here—Augh!”

Sweat broke out over the mare’s brow as her burns were squeezed under the cloth wraps. She turned pleading eyes to the princess. “What are you—?”

“I am not here to play games, Teacup.” Luna scuffed a hoof. “I am here to help my friends, and if I must speak your language to do it, then consider me multilingual!”

“You can’t hurt me worse than I already am.” Teacup turned her head away. “I don’t have to tell you a single thing.”

Stonewall took a step forward, but Luna stopped her with a wing. “She’s right, you know,” the princess said. “We can’t make her talk if she doesn’t want to.”

Luna walked through the door with the soldier close behind. “But we can make her wish she had talked.”

Teacup laid her ears against her scalp. She rolled her eyes and settled back against her pillow, letting the quiet of the room lull her.

A shadow shifted. Teacup eyed it warily. She tried to reach for the light switch, but found herself restrained. She craned her neck to bite the strap, ignoring the swelling pain in her chest. Frustration built up as her attempts to get loose failed. “Come on you big, stupid, ugly—”

Talons slashed the straps with a single swipe. A mighty beak opened wide and roared with the ferocity of a maddened bear. Wings stretched out to every corner of the room, filling Teacup’s vision. She tumble from the hospital bed and crawled backwards, doing everything she could to get away. Her back thumped against the wall. There was nowhere to go. There was nowhere to hide.

“Who are you working for?” Andean bellowed.

Teacup could only shriek in response.

Talons formed into a fist and crashed down beside the mare. “Speak or I will throw you from this mountain!”

“I work for Viscount Dulcimer!” Teacup covered her face. “I work for Hammer Dulcimer! He sent us to steal the Grimoire Alicorn!”

Andean’s brow furrowed. He glanced at the window, where Luna’s face could be seen. She shook her head. “What of the mirror?” he growled. “What of the magic mirror one of my own griffons stole? What does Dulcimer want with that?”

Teacup shook. She seethed as her bandages grew damp. “I can’t… I can’t… They’ll kill me.”

Luna unfolded from the shadows, her body morphing into a solid form. Her starry mane twinkled in the darkness. “Who will kill you, Teacup? Who do you fear?”

The prisoner coughed. Her sweat plastered her mane to her forehead. “Oh no. No, no, no. I‘ve failed them.”

Andean folded his wings across his back. He tapped his beak, then scraped a talon along the ground. The screeching noise made Teacup shudder. “You will tell us exactly who you refer to. You will tell us now.”

She turned to them with wide eyes. An uneven smile crossed her face. “There are some things much scarier than death.”

She scrambled to her feet and jumped headfirst at the window. Luna caught her in a bubble of magic before she could connect. Teacup’s hooves pedaled in midair. “You can’t protect me! You can’t protect yourselves! You can’t even protect your stupid little diarchy! Equestria will return to the old days! We ponies will finally know freedom! Freedom!”

Luna placed her forehead against Teacup’s, sending the unicorn into a deep sleep. She returned the prisoner to the bed and secured her tighter than ever. “That does not bode well. We shall double the guard on her and continue squeezing for information when we can.”

“What little she’ll give up,” Andean said. “She’s a fanatic. She is certain that her employers will murder her, yet she refuses to give them up. There is something far deeper and deadlier at work here than mere political power plays.”

Luna opened the door and ushered Stonewall in. “Please speak with Dr. Do about the Grimoire Alicorn. Ask her what it is, what it’s used for, and whatever else might come up. I’d like to have some idea of what Dulcimer intends for it.”

Stonewall saluted. “Should we send a squad to arrest him, Your Majesty?”

“You think he will still be at Blueblood Manor after the events of last night?” Luna breathed deep. “Have the police obtain a warrant to comb the mansion over. If Dulcimer left any trails, they shall find them. You are dismissed.”

Stonewall bowed her head. “Your Majesty. Your Grace.”

Andean tapped his talons on the floor. He turned away from the prisoner and hunched his way through the door. Two Blitzwings waited for him, their volleyguns held at the ready. He squawked in the griffon tongue. “Are the guards in place at the hospital?”

“Yes, Your Grace,” the one on the left replied. “Princess Stella’s room is heavily guarded, and will remain so throughout her surgery.”

Andean rested his palm on his broadsword’s pommel stone. “Be sure of it, Captain Barbary. It will be your head if something were to happen to her.”

“I understand, Your Grace.” Crested Barbary gripped his volleygun tighter. “We have most of our forces concentrated on the hospital, with ten Blitzwings keeping watch over the Thunderhead. I trust you and Princess Luna will be headed there soon?”

“Aye,” Andean said. “It’s time to put any doubts about the assassin’s wingblades to rest. Have Grenadier Lanner report to the lab.”

“I’ll send him your way once I see him.” With that, Crested Barbary flapped into the air, headed for the hospital.

Andean breathed a sigh through his nose. He stared into the twilit east sky, where stars peered out of the purple horizon. He turned his bearded head to acknowledge Luna. “Princess. Our next step is to finally discover exactly what the blades are made of. What then?”

“Then we regroup.” Luna spread her wings and let the wind blow through her feathers. “If the team heals, they shall return to action and take down the commander once and for all.”

Andean shuffled his bear claws. “And if they do not heal?”

“Then… perhaps we shall hope for a miracle,” Luna said.

***

Commander Hurricane peered over the side of the commercial airship’s deck. She could spot a few pinpricks of lamplight below, but otherwise the landscape was made of flowing shadows. The whoosh of trees in the bitter cold wind of late autumn reached her ears as a hush fell over the ship’s engines.

Her hooves shook as she pressed against the railing. Her scar itched, but she pushed it from her mind. The Grove of Golden Apples lay somewhere below. She hadn’t been allowed to see where they’d gone, but she knew they were far from most city-states.

Poison struck deep, but if an antidote was administered…

“Do you feel it, Commander?”

Hurricane turned her head. She held a hoof to her forehead to keep her feathery bangs out of her cold, gray eyes. Merry Mare stood beside her, a yellow gemstone hanging from a gold chain around her neck. She had shucked her cloak in favor of a soft, fuzzy overcoat.

The former Mayor of Ponyville smiled. “The week after Nightmare Night is always… the most invigorating. It’s the time when the Unseelie Court operates at the peak of its power. It’s the time when those allied with the Unseelie Fae are most apt to reap the benefits of the alliance.”

Hurricane felt her stomach tingle as the airship dropped altitude. The landing lights revealed the flowing shadows to be a few trees that hadn’t lost all their leaves. A mountain appeared to be growing from the ground as they approached its side. She could pick out ponies waiting for them, ready to tie the ship fast to a series of waiting anchors.

A hitch snagged Merry’s voice as she said her next words, “This is a good day for the both of us.”

Hurricane frowned. She regarded the mare she knew as the Mother carefully. “You lost someone as well?”

Merry shrugged. “Haven’t we all? Haven’t we all wished for just one more minute?”

“More times than I can count,” Hurricane said. She braced her hooves as the deck shuddered. They’d come to a stop. “Far more than I care to admit.”

“No more, Commander.” Merry nodded towards the crew members. They lowered a gangplank for the mares. “Tonight, we are reunited.”

As they stepped from the ship to the rocky ground, a stallion bowed before them. “My lady, the Crone is already waiting for you inside. The Maid expresses her regrets that she is unable to attend the ceremony.”

“Thank you,” Merry said. “The Maid and I have already discussed her absence. You are excused.”

Hurricane flicked her eyes towards a movement on her right. She saw nothing but bare rock in the lamplight. Another flash in her peripheral vision drew her to the left, which revealed a similar emptiness. “Do you see—?”

“You’ll get used to it.” Merry waved her off with a limp hoof. “The fae folk are fond of mind games. Just ignore them.”

This time, Hurricane got a glimpse of two glowing eyes and a mist-like body before the being vanished. She swallowed what little saliva she was able to conjure. “As you say.”

A wooden archway led into the rock of the mountainside. Merry stood beside the entrance and held up a foreleg. “Shall we continue deeper?”

Hair stood up on Hurricane’s back. She brushed it down with a flap of her good wing. “That’s why we’re here.”

Her sore bones and torn flesh niggled at the back of her mind, unpleasant despite the painkillers deadening her injured limbs. The white light from the lanterns turned orange as they passed torches stuck fast to the wall. Water had naturally eroded the stone walls over several centuries, leaving them cool, damp, and smooth. Her ear stood erect at a faint skitter.

“These caverns were originally the location of a deep underground lake,” Merry said as they walked. “Rain would deposit water in the depression at the mountain’s peak, and several cracks would lead into its interior. Before you journeyed into Equestria, early diamond dog packs called it the Weeping Mountain because of the constant, small trickles of water that ran down its face.”

The end of the tunnel came into sight, flanked by two imposing guards wearing black masks. They tightened their stance at the Mother’s arrival. “But when the tears dry,” she said, “they leave behind something much stronger.”

Hurricane stuck her head through the opening and beheld a forest.

The cavern ceiling rose high into the air, and arched downward into mossy soil. Tightly-packed trees stood tall, their branches intertwining. Glowing threads ran through the rock face, tangled and spliced like roots. Dots of light flickered from within the canopy. Golden flashes caught her eye.

In the middle of the mountain, rising high above the other trees, was a massive apple tree. Its trunk was as thick as a house, and its branches were as sturdy as a suspension bridge. It towered all the way to the cavern’s roof. Its uppermost branches clawed at the solid stone as if in desperation, years of steady growth gradually tearing bits of the ceiling away.

“Centuries of erosion broke the stone into minerals, which all collected in the lake.” Merry gave the room a proud smile. “After a little care from the sirens, it became some of the most fertile soil in all of Equestria.”

Hurricane carefully walked down the stairs carved from the wall. She couldn’t take her eyes off of the monumental tree. “That… that has to be a thousand years old.”

“Roughly. Far before my time, at the least.” Merry’s hooves made a steady patter as she passed Hurricane. She reached the tree line a full minute before the commander caught up. “I think the most spectacular thing about it is that this all started from a single seed. A single golden apple.”

She reached up and plucked a shimmering fruit from a low branch. She tossed it to Hurricane. “Have a taste.”

Hurricane polished the apple on her coat. Her reflection appeared in the metallic skin. “It’s… safe to eat?”

“It’s not golden so much as it’s golden.” Merry snickered. “Go on. Eat it.”

Hurricane studied the Mother’s face. She glanced back at the fruit. With a deep breath, she opened her mouth and took a large bite.

Pain seared its way through her body.

Her muscles seized, causing her to tumble onto her side. The apple juice bubbled at her lips. It felt as though fire was burning its way through her fairy strings, turning her bones to ash. Her scar blistered, flaring red against her blue coat.

And then it was over. Hurricane took a breath and let out a hacking cough. “What the—?”

“Easy. On your feet.” Merry grasped Hurricane’s hoof and dragged her upwards. “The first apple is always a doozey.”

“What the blazes was that?” Hurricane snapped. She tossed the golden apple into the grove. “I felt like I was coming apart!”

“Hurricane.” Merry Mare grinned. “Look at yourself.”

Hurricane glared at her. She lowered her ears to her scalp and retrieved the thrown apple. She polished the juice away from the skin and examined herself. Her jaw dropped. “What—?”

Merry appeared over her reflection’s shoulder. “What do you see?”

“I see a mare…” Hurricane touched her face. “T-twenty years younger.”

The faint wrinkles and hard lines on her face had softened. Her eyes were that much brighter. Her forelimbs, already strong from years of care, had lost the subtle aches and pains brought on by age. Her bad wing still hung uselessly, and her scar still blazed, but there was definitely something… better.

“My Creator…” Hurricane whispered. “These apples… they provide youth.”

“The Grove of Golden Apples is thus far the greatest gift we have received from the Unseelie Court.” Merry waved a hoof for Hurricane to follow her. “It keeps the wise young, and the young strong.”

They picked their way through the trees. Hurricane could see a number of other golden apples in the boughs; not enough for an army, no, but just enough to keep a few individuals alive indefinitely. With a steady supply, she reasoned, a pony could live for as long as any alicorn.

Hurricane blinked. Alicorn? Alicorn. “Sombra had a golden apple, didn’t he?”

Merry Mare raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“That had to have been an ingredient,” Hurricane mumbled. “He had a golden apple elixir, at the least. Why else would he have had dealings with the Unseelie Court?”

“What Sombra did or did not do is of little consequence all these years after his death.” Merry curled her lips. “Unless you have something new to add?”

“I suppose not,” Hurricane said slowly. She met the Mother’s eyes with a smirk. “I am merely connecting a few of my own dots.”

Merry shrugged, her gray mane bobbing against her forehead. She paused, holding up a hoof. “Hear that?”

Hurricane strained her ears. She could hear it just fine. All around were sounds of clicking nails, shuffling feet, muffled giggles, and hissing leaves. Shadows defied the torchlight, moving of their own volition. A bitter chill ran down her spine. “Aye.”

“It’s the fae. They know something’s happening.” Merry laughed quietly. “And they want a front-row seat.”

Hurricane tapped her teeth together. “That ‘something’ being…?”

“It’s why we’re here, Commander,” Merry said. “We’re here to speak with our departed loved ones.”

She pushed aside a curtain of branches and let Hurricane through. The commander stepped into a clearing right before the largest tree. It was a patch of pleasantly-soft grass, around which several ponies sat, hoods pulled low over their faces. They each appeared to have several shadows which danced and wiggled, though the ponies held still. In the middle was a wide, shallow basin, empty save for a little puddle of water. The pony that stood beside it lifted her hood, revealing a pale orange, wrinkled face. “Sister, it is good to see you.”

“You as well, sister,” Merry said. “Are we ready to begin the ceremony?”

“Almost,” the wizened mare said. “We’re still waiting on an appearance from the Master.”

Hurricane looked behind the mare, at the giant elder tree. Most of the bark was dark and healthy, save for one spot near the bottom of the trunk. A mirror had been embedded into the healthy wood, around which the bark died and peeled away, and the wood decayed to worm food. The mirror was a work of art, with a swirling golden frame and carefully-etched reliefs of various creatures.

She looked straight at the mirror, but saw no reflection at all; just an empty void. “That is where he is trapped, is it not?”

Several hooded faced turned to her at the sound of her voice. She refused to be intimidated. “This is the very portal we seek to unlock, is it not?”

The wrinkled mare pressed prune-ish lips together, but Merry placed a hoof on her shoulder. “Relax,” Merry said. “Yes, this is the mirror itself. On the far side lies a dead and empty universe, a prison fit for no one. Not unlike the one you were banished to, I suppose.”

Hurricane sneered.

Merry maintained an appearance of calm. She patted the older mare beside her. “You may refer to the elder sister as the Crone. She is the oldest and wisest of anybody here.” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “I believe she even predates the Founders. Is that right?”

“After a fashion,” the Crone said. “Kinda depends on how you wanna look at it.”

Hurricane narrowed her eyes. “And what do you mean by that?”

“It means that when I say ‘Starswirl the Bearded was a complete idiot,’ I’m speaking from personal experience.” The Crone patted her curly mane. “That good enough for you?”

Hurricane glanced at the mirror. “How long must we await his arrival? Must we summon him, or do we wait for his convenience?”

The Crone rolled her eyes. “Is she new at this, or is she just a dipstick?”

“Chill.” Merry stared into the void, then moved to the edge of the clearing. “The Master knows what we plan, Hurricane. He will come at the precise moment when it is prudent for him to do so.”

Hurricane’s wispy white mane fluttered around her face in the presence of a slight breeze. She looked up to see two yellow eyes shining out of the darkness. She yelped and reared up, flinging the creature from her back. It skittered back into the grove, leaving her with a heaving chest.

“Aw, did the big, bad boogeyman scare the legendary warrior?” The Crone chuckled. “You’ve really gotta get a grip—”

The Crone gagged as Hurricane grasped the collar of her cloak. “I’ll get a grip,” the commander hissed, “and I can start with you.”

The Crone’s eyes widened. She searched Merry’s face for any hope of help.

Merry breathed on her glasses and wiped away the fog. “It isn’t wise to upset a mare who can snap you in half without breaking a sweat, sister. You’re giving the wisdom of age a bad name.”

The Crone gave them her best smile. “How about I focus on completing the ceremony, and you can put me down gently? Please.”

Hurricane let the Crone drop. She backed away slowly. “I am out of my element, Crone, not my league.”

“Proof positive,” the Crone coughed. She pulled her hood back over her face and resumed a more dignified posture.

Hurricane watched the faces of the other hooded figures. There was nopony that she recognized. No celebrities, no public officials, no soldiers of note. About all that united them was that they were ponies, unicorns and pegasi and earth ponies. Perhaps the higher members of the organization were going about their jobs, while the lower echelons acted as servants, or as students.

A low rumble came from the blank mirror. A cheer rose from the shadows.

Hurricane swallowed hard as the feeling of panic intensified. Her limbs froze and her heart raced. She tried to look away from the sealed portal, but found her eyes locked tight. A roiling mist appeared in the glass, followed by two greedy green eyes. They bored into her, laying out every mistake, every error, and every misdeed she had ever done or thought of doing. Her good wing spread for flight, but her hooves remained planted in the soft grass.

“Proceed.”

Some would call it the Royal Canterlot Voice. Some might say it was the sound of a mountain crumbling. Others would call it the personification of sheer terror.

Hurricane knew it as the voice of the Master.

The hooded figures bowed as one, and were joined by Merry and the Crone. Hurricane followed suit, trying to ignore the unnatural way the shadows all stretched towards the mirror.

The Crone stood first. She lifted a hoof to gesture for the others to rise. Hurricane got to her feet quickly, narrowing her gaze on the basin, where the magic would happen.

From the depths of her cloak, the Crone produced a series of jars. A pinch of this herb was thrown in, a dash of that root mixed in, a hoof full of that powder added. The water at the bottom of the bowl darkened.

“Ahh-ah-ah, ahh-ah,” the hooded figures sang. “Ahh-ah-ah, ahh-ah.”

The Crone gave Hurricane a wide smirk.

“Welcome to the Grove
To greater depths we dove
In the dark of night
Where secrets come to light”

Fae danced all around, their bodies taking on freakish, grotesque shapes. Impossible amounts of limbs, jaws the size of their body, tails that doubled over, claws with split nails; always shifting and twisting and writhing.

The Crone tossed a purple jar into the concoction. The liquid flashed, releasing a cloud of shimmering rainbow.

“Making death your slave
Rising from the grave
Binding tight their soul
To yank them from Sheol”

Hurricane shielded her face from the flash. She lowered her hoof to see one of the fae hand a golden apple to the Crone. The crone lifted it into the air, her cloak and mane waving in the magic force generated from the basin.

“We will cast a spell
So they can hear our voices
We’ll hear them as well
A message straight from Hell

“Heed our command
You’ve been summoned
Take a breath once again!”

The Crone produced a knife and sliced through the golden apple. The juice fell down, down, down into the basin, where it mixed into the brew. She knelt down, took a deep breath, and looked to Hurricane. “Who would you like to speak to?”

Hurricane’s legs trembled. “P-princess—” She cleared her throat. “Queen Platinum.”

The Crone looked to Merry, who nodded. She spread her forelegs and let the cloud of magic drift around her. “By the power of our almighty Master, by the will of the Unseelie Court, and by the might of the Siren Sisters, we call to you, Platinum, come forth!”

The brew rippled. A high, bloodcurdling moan split the air. A translucent, ghostly, bony hoof rose from the center of the basin, followed soon after by a sunken, dilapidated pony face. The hollow eye sockets stared through Hurricane as the dead pony turned. “Hurricane! Hurricane!”

Hurricane’s stomach churned. Her heart leapt into her throat. She fell to her rear as the rest of the ghastly creature emerged from the basin. “Platinum? Oh, Platinum, what happened?”

“Hurricane!” the thing cried out, as if it hadn’t heard her. “Why did you let us die? Why didn’t you do something?”

“I am sorry!” Hurricane dove forward to kneel before the animated corpse. “I am sorry, Platinum my friend, I tried! I tried so hard, thou knowest it! Thou knowest!”

The dead pony hovered over the brew on unsteady hooves. “You let us die, Hurricane. You failed us! Each of us is dead because of you!”

“I am trying to fix it!” Hurricane grasped her hooves together. “I am trying to fix my mistakes! I will make the Equestria we dreamed of! I will eliminate all traces of Sombra! I will destroy anybody who would pervert our beautiful land!”

The Crone took careful steps backward, putting as much distance between herself and the grotesque being as she could. She bumped against Merry’s chest, and sucked in a breath when the Mother wrapped her foreleg around her shoulders. “You did well,” Merry said. “It’s going just as the Master said.”

The Crone gave her a nervous smile. “I gotta say, if I never summon the dead again, it’ll be too—”

A piercing note struck the Grove. Everyone present pressed their hooves over their ears.

The corpse fell silent. It looked upward, ignoring the commander at its feet.

Blinding light shot downward and obliterated the dead pony, the brew, and the basin all in a single flash. The shockwave blew Hurricane head-over-tail as the hooded ponies tumbled to the ground. Merry Mare flew through the air to smack her head against a tree, sending her into unconsciousness. The Crone covered her eyes and skidded to a stop in the rich soil, screaming all the while.

The Master glared into the light, let out a furious bellow, and then vanished from the mirror.

Gentle song followed, filling the silence left by the scattering fae. Hurricane couldn’t make out the words, only sure that it was sung in an unfamiliar language. She brushed her mane from her eyes and gaped.

The white light remained where it was, forming a pillar that led up to the roof and beyond. Fairy dust drifted like sparks from a fire, landing lightly on the grass, the prone bodies, and the tip of the commander’s nose. She wrinkled her forehead.

“Hurricane?”

Hurricane’s ears perked at the sound of a voice she knew so very well. She looked to the pillar with her lips parted. “Platinum? Is it… is it truly thee?”

A faint shape appeared against the light. A pony’s hoof became distinct, followed by a familiar silhouette. A carefully coiffed mane danced around a brilliant white face. “Hello, Hurricane.”

The Crone staggered to her feet despite her wobbly knees. The other hooded figures kept low, looking to their leader. She gaped at the blinding light before waving her hooves in a haphazard pattern. “Uh, um, behold the power of, um, our almighty Master, Am—!”

“Silence, foal!” Platinum shouted from the pillar. “Thou and thy kind have no power here!”

The Crone ran through the trees, the other hooded ponies hot on her heels.

Platinum turned softer eyes on her old friend. “Hurricane—my dear, dear companion Hurricane—why hast thou sought to awaken me from my slumber?”

Hurricane blathered. She looked around the clearing, her eyes coming to rest on Merry. “I do not understand. It was all a trick?”

“It was a false hope they had been given, Hurricane.” Platinum shook her head. “To awaken the ones who sleep is not for mortal ponies.”

Hurricane blinked tears from her eyes. She lifted her head to her friend. “Then how is it that thou art here?”

“Because thou hast been given a gift very few ponies ever receive.” Glistening dust flew from Platinum’s coat. “Use it wisely.”

Hurricane felt a soft touch on her scarred cheek. The pain went away. “Why… I want…”

“Why hast thou awakened me from my well-earned rest, friend among friends?” Platinum asked.

Hurricane lifted her foreleg to touch Platinum, but couldn’t quite reach her. “I—I wished to speak with thou. Even if… if just for one more time. I wished to say that I am sorry. I am so sorry, dear companion. It was not my wish for you to… to…” She clutched her hooves tight to her chest. “I wanted to save you.”

She drew herself up and hardened her face. “But I will not allow my failure to destroy Equestria. I shall fight for everything we sought to achieve. Freedom for ponies, justice for the downtrodden, strength for the outcast. I have…” She swallowed before continuing. “I have made many mistakes. Many. But I shall undo them as best I can. Any way I can. I swear I will make it up to thee.”

Platinum’s eyes grew tight. She shut them completely and sighed. “Friend among friends…”

“Thou… Thou rememberest the time?” Hurricane brushed her hoof against her scarred cheek. “When I was bitten by the vicious serpent. Thou fought tooth and hoof to drive the venom from my body. I cannot repay such a kindness, not in a thousand lifetimes. But I can try, can I not?”

“Oh Hurricane,” Platinum breathed. “What hast thou done?”

The commander’s ear twitched. “To what dost thou refer?”

Platinum was quiet for a long moment. “I know of Celestia. I know all that hath been done to her. I know all that thou didst do to bring about her birth. I know that thou hath tried to slay her.”

Hurricane gritted her teeth. “Many years ago, when the windigos were at their strongest, Sombra came to me for the salvation of Equestria. We—Starswirl had given the prophecy of the alicorns, and we thought…” She looked away. “Celestia and Luna were the result, but they were pawns in Sombra’s plan to ascend himself. I am sorry I hid this from thou, but I wanted thou to believe. I wanted thou to believe that there was hope for Equestria.”

She bowed her head. “But it was a mistake.”

“Hurricane,” Platinum said, “stop.”

The commander jerked her head back. “What?”

“Dost thou not see what thou art doing?” Platinum’s chest shuddered. “Dost thou not see what thou hath wrought?”

Hurricane spread her good wing. “I—I have failed in the past, but—”

“No, dost thou not see it?” Platinum pressed her hoof against Hurricane’s chest. “Thou attempted to slay Celestia, Hurricane. She. Is. Thy. Child. Thou hast allied thyself with the Unseelie Fae. Thou hast slain countless soldiers of your country. Thy mistakes are not those of ancient, bygone days. They are now.”

“I’m fighting for a free Euqestria!” Hurricane stomped a hoof. “Just like thee and I worked for!”

“Equestria was never about freedom!” Platinum tilted her nose downward. “It was about peace and security for our little ponies. The freedom came later, when Celestia took the throne.”

“She took thy throne! She stole it out from under the hindquarters of thine offspring!” Hurricane’s voice grew hoarse. “She spat upon all that we had worked for and set herself up as a tyrant!”

“She saved our little ponies!” Platinum reached out to take Hurricane’s hooves in her own. “She took charge when all we would have done was dissolve back into our own little tribes again. Claim if you must that she was not the prophesied alicorn, but know that she was indeed our salvation—”

“No!” Hurricane took a step back. “She’s stifling them! Controlling them! Keeping them from—”

“Thou tried to kill her! She is thy child, Hurricane! Thy child!” Tears dripped down Platinum’s shining face. “How couldst thou do that to sweet little Celestia?”

Hurricane grabbed the sides of her head. “Dost thou not realize that I do this all for thee?”

“Dost thou not realize that thou hath erred far greater than if thou hadst merely lied?” Platinum wiped her face. “Hurricane, thou must not mourn for me.”

“How can I not?” Hurricane threw her forelegs out. “How can I not mourn the death of the friend I love so dearly?”

“Because thou hast destroyed thyself out of sorrow,” Platinum said. “Thou hast not fought to save Equestria, but to give it greater turmoil than in the days of the windigos.”

Heat ran to Hurricane’s cheeks, singeing her scar and causing it to itch. She forced quick, hot breaths through her teeth. “Thou speakest such evil of me? Wherefore dost thou strike such a cord?”

“I have come to give thee a gift, Hurricane.” Platinum bit her lip. “It is not so that thou may speak with me, but that thou might be given a warning.”

Hurricane’s jaw strained as she held back a growl.

“If thou travel along thy path to its conclusion,” Platinum said, “thou wilt destroy all that thou loves. Every last thing. All thy friendships, all thy country, all thy works. Nothing good shall remain after thou hast finished thy evil deeds.”

“You lie!” Hurricane shouted at the top of her lungs. “I shall demolish Celestia’s Equestria and rebuild it to our liking! I shall return it to the glory days of old! I shall rekindle the fire—”

“And burn everything to the ground.” Platinum drifted upwards, towards the light. “Hear the words I say, Hurricane. Celestia’s Equestria is our Equestria. It’s everything we ever hoped for.”

“Thou art the same as Starswirl, who let the Crystal Empire vanish into nothingness!” Hurricane shook her foreleg. “Thou art the same as Clover, who banished me to darkness for a thousand years to keep me from achieving my just vengeance! I should have had revenge then, and I shall still avenge thee now!”

“Clover was protecting the both of you.” Platinum lowered her ears. “It was an accident—”

“Lies! Thou art not Platinum! Thou art not my friend!” Hurricane tore up clumps of grass to throw at Platinum. “Thou art a false ghost sent to torment me! Thou art nothing! Nothing!”

“I am thy friend!” Platinum shouted. “Every hour spent with thee wert bliss! But I had to move on!”

She thumped a hoof against her chest. “I chose to sacrifice myself to save Celestia’s life. I chose to stop my son’s spear point. It was my life to give, and I knew it was better served defending that which I love.”

A smile touched the edged of her mouth. “And now… now all is peace. Now all is joy and restful sleep. No tears, no trials, no fighting. Just friends and song.”

Tears ran down her cheeks, meeting at her chin, where they dripped to the ground. “But here… here, there will always be regrets.” She held out a hoof to her friend. “I have missed you, Hurricane. I am saddened to say that this is the last time we shall ever speak.”

Hurricane’s hoof bumped against the golden apple the Crone had sliced. She picked it up and hefted it. “If it pains thee so much to return to this world…”

She threw it with all her might. “Then go back to Hell where you belong!”

The apple thumped against a tree trunk and thudded against the soft ground. The Grove of Golden Apples was dark as night, with only the apples themselves offering any hint of light. Hurricane screamed until her lungs burned. She stormed off into the trees, seeking the exit to the mountain cavern.

***

Merry Mare came to in a comfortable bed. The world moved beneath her, rocking gently. She opened her eyes and found herself in one of the airship’s cabins. The Crone sat a few meters away.

Merry lifted her head, but settled back down due to the pain. “What happened?”

The Crone tapped her hooves together. “We were invaded by members of the Seelie Court.”

“What?” Merry threw the covers from her body and staggered to her hooves. She nearly tumbled onto her face before the Crone caught her. “How? How is that possible? How could they have gotten through the fairy rings? The dream catchers? The Master himself would have been unable to break in!”

“It gets worse.” The Crone pressed Merry back onto the bed, her wrinkled legs surprisingly strong. “It’s… it’s honestly something that we should not speak of openly.”

Merry glanced around the room. She lowered her eyebrows. “You’ve removed the mirrors?”

“Yeah. We’re completely cut off up here.” The Crone rubbed her tired lavender eyes. “If I’m being honest, I’m having a slight crisis of faith. The Master’s recipe didn’t work.”

Merry picked her glasses off a nearby nightstand and set them on her muzzle. “You’re saying the apparition we summoned wasn’t Princess Platinum?”

“I’m saying I’m not sure if our ghost was the real thing…” The Crone shrugged. “Or if the Seelie Court’s was.”

She nibbled her lip. “Merry… Have you ever known the Master to lie?”

Merry pinched the bridge of her nose. “Yes. With impunity. But never to us. Never to his sirens.”

The Crone shuffled her hooves. “So are we just going to assume he had a good reason?”

“I assume he was attempting to coerce Hurricane into deeper cooperation.” Merry’s face darkened. “And he lied to us to make the deception all the more real.” She flicked an ear. “Where is Hurricane, currently?”

“I haven’t seen her since the Seelie Faes’ attack.” The Crone cleared her throat. “We were overwhelmed, and she disappeared after they left.”

Merry flopped onto the bedspread. “If she believes she was deceived, we may have just made a very dangerous enemy.”

“So… our options are to track her down and destroy her, or try to convince her that she was tricked by the Seelie Court, rather than our own?”

Merry pressed her hooves together and glared at the ceiling. “I think I like the second option better. Track her down, yes, but don’t use all our resources. We have to be ready to pounce the instant Nightmare Moon shows her true colors. A single miscalculation will spell disaster.”

The Crone sighed. “And a single loose thread will unravel the tapestry.”

“Ha.” Merry gave the other siren a half-hearted smile. “Lanner worked with her to steal the magic mirror. Have him search for her. He can’t exactly return to Andean in his current condition.”

“Sounds good.” The Crone placed her hoof on the door handle. “Any other pressing business?”

Merry shook her head. “Caution will finish Celestia off, Twilight Sparkle is weak and ill-fit to defend herself, Luna has gone insane, and Cadence is sure to crumple under the pressure. All we need to do is neatly slide the Master into the void left by the deposed alicorns.”

The elder mare rolled her eyes. “We’re putting an awful lot of faith in a being that we don’t really trust.”

“Trusting people got you where you are today.” Merry lifted a dubious eyebrow. “Don’t make that same mistake, sister.”

“Don’t worry,” the Crone said. “I’m even less likely to trust a fae with the power to control the sun and moon.”

“Smart girl,” Merry replied. “But I still like our chances.”

Speech

Twilight Sparkle closed her eyes against the chilling breeze that flowed through the Crystal Empire’s capitol. Snowflakes alighted her snout, only to disappear at a soft breath. She lifted her hooves to secure Rainbow Dash’s white scarf around her scarred throat. Stars twinkled overhead, bringing her a familiar comfort. She tried to focus on them, to give herself a brief respite from the problems she faced down below.

“Are you sure you wanna go, Twilie?”

The chuff of a steam engine overpowered the whistling wind. Twilight Sparkle lowered her ears and sent a glance at Blueblood’s private airship. The Sky’s Limit was being loaded with supplies and cargo for a return journey to Equestria, at Princess Twilight’s request.

She nodded to Shining Armor and stared at her hooves. She tried to speak, but even her strongest breath let out less than a whisper. “I need to make sure Mom and Dad…”

She shook her head and reached into her saddlebags. Numbed hooves grasped the notepad while her trembling lips scribbled a quick message. Need to see if parents okay.

The chatter of Silver Lance and Twilight Amore carried over from the airship’s boarding ramp. They clamored after Rainbow Dash, assaulting her with questions about the Wonderbolts and movies and anything else that popped into their heads. Rainbow laughed right from her belly, answering their questions in her usual boisterous manner. Stories of incredible races and tidbits from the next Daring Do film kept them enthralled.

Shining Armor sat down and watched his children for a moment. He tilted his head towards his little sister. “I should have been there.”

She frowned and let out a tiny sigh. She brought her eyebrows together.

“If I had been there, maybe I could have given them some backup. I could have shown that assassin character what happens when they mess with the Sparkle family like this.” He swallowed hard and scuffed his hoof along the ground. “Instead, I was here…”

Brother and sister sat in silence, which was broken by distant laughter of kids staying up too late.

“You have to be careful, okay?” Shining Armor touched her shoulder. “You have to come out the other end of this, got it? St-stay with your friends at all times, or keep close to Aunt Yearling, or stick by the guards you trust. Just stay safe. I don’t know what I would do if you—”

Twilight Sparkle wrapped her forearms around him and pressed her face against his neck. Tears dripped from her eyes onto his coat.

He returned the hug. “I want to come with you. I wish I could. So bad.”

Twilight nodded. She flapped her wings to clear them of snow and took a step back from her brother. An ear perked up at the sound of approaching hooves.

Blueblood, Cadence, and Skyhook cantered across the landing field. Skyhook bowed to Twilight. “The ship’s almost stocked, Your Highness. We’ll be making the journey back to Equestria within the hour.”

Turning to Cadence, he added, “I’ll accompany Princess Twilight back home. I’m leaving Lieutenant Caution Tape in charge of Celestia’s security. If you have any questions, he’s the stallion you want to see. Will you be joining us, Prince Blueblood?”

Blueblood waved a hoof, staring up at his ship. “Oh, no, no. I’m staying close to Auntie. I’m just… saying goodbye.”

Cadence gave him a soft smile. “You’re gonna miss the Sky’s Limit, huh?”

“I… have this odd feeling,” Blueblood said, “like I might never see her again.”

Shining Armor gave him a half-grin. “You aren’t precognitive, are you, Cous’?”

“I hope to the Creator I’m not.” Blueblood bobbed his head to Twilight. “You take care of yourself—”

Twilight grabbed him in a quick hug, which shut him up with a whoosh of breath. She hopped over to Cadence next, and gave her a nuzzle to boot.

Cadence returned the tight embrace. She whispered into Twilight’s ear. “Whatever happens, whatever occurs, remember that your friends are with you wherever you are. In spirit, but also when you physically need us. If you find yourself sinking, hold on to us. We’re the dry ground.”

Twilight wiped her eyes. She placed a quick kiss on Cadence’s cheek, and did the same to Shining Armor. She gave a wave to Blueblood, and then trotted off to the boarding ramp, Skyhook close behind. The wind intensified as the ship’s propellers whirred. Shining held his wife and children close. Blueblood held a hoof up to keep his flowing bangs out of his eyes.

Rainbow Dash flitted about, building up their cloud-cover shield as she went. Before long, the Sky’s Limit was lost in the skyline.

Blueblood shrugged on a red cloak to keep out the biting cold. “I don’t believe sending her back there is wise.”

“Have you ever tried to keep Twilight from what she wants?” Shining Armor shook his head. “It’s safer this way for everybody.”

“Shiny…” Cadence patted Lance and Amore from behind, urging them ahead. Once they were at a respectable distance, she flicked an ear downward. “This is serious. I kind of agree with Blueblood. This is borderline dumb. We’re sending her right back to where she got attacked.”

“We’re not sending her anywhere; she made the decision on her own.” Shining Armor chewed his bottom lip. “No matter how much I argued.”

“You should have included me,” Cadence said. “If I had been there—”

“It’s Twilight.” Shining Armor glanced up at the moon as it peeked out from behind a cloud. “It’s arguing with Twilight.”

“Which you’ve done successfully—”

“In the face of overwhelming evidence.” Shining met Cadence’s eyes, his eyebrows feeling heavy on his forehead. “And I can only point out that she almost died so many times before it rings hollow.”

Blueblood coughed.

Shining Armor sent him a glare. “Does the back row have something to say to the class?”

Blueblood rolled his eyes. “Don’t get your chainmail in a knot. May I respectfully request we move past decisions that have already been made and focus on the ones that have yet to be decided?”

“Oh, kiss my cutie—”

“Boys,” Cadence said with a low, deliberate voice, “the insults aren’t helping anybody’s case.”

Shining snapped his mouth shut. He swallowed hard before speaking again. “It’s been a week since we got the news about Mom and Dad. She isn’t just rushing into this. She’s planned it. She’s coordinated with Luna. She is absolutely sure of herself.”

Blueblood shook snow from his overcoat. “Whatever we need to tell ourselves to be able to sleep at night.” He rubbed his head beneath his horn. “I suppose it’ll do more good to worry over Auntie’s condition.”

Cadence rested a wing across his back. “They’ll find a heart before the last week is through. Believe it, Blueblood.”

“We don’t have a week to diddle around with,” he hissed. “We have days before she runs out of magic. Days. And then she’ll just… fade.”

They paused before the towering structure of the Crystal Palace. It reached high into the sky, burning with light from within. Silver and Twilight were already pattering up the stairs towards their rooms, where they’d spend the night with wide smiles on their faces.

Blueblood passed through the four pillars holding the building up and stepped into the courtyard. The Crystal Heart hovered in the center. It rotated slowly as sparks of magic drifted off it to the ground. He leaned against a pillar and stared at the artifact.

Shining Armor walked to the entrance. He paused at the first step. “You coming?”

“I’ll catch up.” Blueblood huddled into his coat. “I just need a moment to myself.”

Shining shrugged and trotted upwards. Cadence gave Blueblood a quick glance, let out a hum, and followed her husband.

The Heart turned, and Blueblood sighed. His horn tingled in the presence of the immense magic flowing through the device. If he looked to the horizon, he could see an aurora of magical colors shimmering against the dark sky. Energy filled the air, touching every living thing. Every crystal and mountain. Every forest and ocean.

“Magic, magic everywhere, and not a spark for Aunt Celestia.”

Blueblood gritted his teeth. He reached out to touch the Heart with a spell. His shimmering blue magic was swallowed up by the crystal, drawn in like water to a sponge. He couldn’t grasp it, because it merely added his power to the immense reserves within, to be released when the Crystal Empire was in danger.

To be released at the command of Princess Mi Amore Cadenza.

Blueblood grunted. “Oh, Queen Platinum, if you only knew where your glorious lineage has found itself.”

“I don’t think she’d be too disappointed.”

Blueblood glanced up. Fleur circled around the heart, two steaming mugs carried in her magical grip. She set one beside him and settled herself against the same pillar. “She would see that her kingdom and her family have been well taken care of.”

“Perhaps, but wasn’t it her family’s job to care for her kingdom?” Blueblood waved a hoof indiscriminately. “Fat lot of good we’ve contributed to that.”

Fleur blew on her drink before taking a ginger sip. “It’s hard to follow up Sombra…”

“Yes, but it goes beyond the Crystal Empire.” Blueblood took a swig and spit it out instantly. “Bleugh! What in the blazes—?”

“It’s something for your headache.” Fleur nodded with a wry smile. “Drink up. Come on.”

Blueblood wrinkled his snout. “As I was saying… Ever since Periwinkle abdicated and gave the kingdom to the alicorns, we’ve done nothing but live off of the Royal Treasury and fly airships.” He slapped a hoof against the ground. “And then the right proper original pony kingdom reappears and… and Celestia doesn’t even consider reinstating my crown…”

Fleur pressed her lips tight and stared at her brew. If Blueblood looked closely, he could see her chewing the inside of her cheek.

“Alright, spit it out,” he said. “Let whatever comment you have come out and have its day.”

“I…” Fleur brushed a lock of mane behind her ear. “I don’t believe she was… I mean, it was probably… She was right, wasn’t she?”

Blueblood lowered his eyebrows and turned to the Crystal Heart.

“Cadence has been training since her ascension, and you…” She took a gulp. “You aren’t the most experienced statespony—”

“Oh, imagine that.” Blueblood laughed. “Imagine that the pony who hasn’t received a single responsibility in his life is bad at handling responsibility. Imagine!”

“Then maybe you should take some responsibility!” Fleur coughed before swallowing a bit of her bitter drink. She flicked her eyes to her husband, then tilted her ears against her scalp. “Not in the kingdom, but in your own life. Do something with what you have.”

“I can only make so many investments.” Blueblood scoffed, scowling into his mug. “I can only attend so many business meetings. Dulcimer handles that for the most part, regardless.”

“You rely on that stallion too much.”

Blueblood clicked his tongue. “Who else do I have to rely on?”

Fleur de Lis breathed deep and let it out with a huff. “Finish your tea, Husband.”

“Maybe I can start taking charge right this second.” He lifted his nose into the air. “I can take the responsibility to never drink this disgusting herbal mishap every again.”

Fleur rolled her eyes and took the mug from him. “I could add honey if that would help…”

“Unlikely.” Blueblood tossed his mane with a snort. “I don’t know what benefit it is to trade a migraine for an upset stomach.”

Fleur stood up. She set her jaw and turned towards the stairs. “I’m going to bed. I suspect you’ll be along shortly?”

“Don’t wait up.” Blueblood laid his stomach on the ground and rested his chin on his forelegs. “I’m going to take a quiet moment to think.”

“Fine.” Fleur stomped a hoof. “Fine. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Blueblood wrinkled his forehead as he watched her set off at a fast clip-clop. He lifted his eyes to the Crystal Heart’s gentle gyrations. “Why do I get the feeling I’m missing something important?”

***

Rainbow Dash soared through the Sky’s Limit’s open loading ramp. Her hooves touched wood and came to a rumbling, running stop. The cloud-cover was looking pretty slick, even if she said so herself, which meant it would be smooth sailing the rest of the way to Canterlot.

She hopped her way up to the observation deck and let herself flop onto her back. She let out a prolonged, over-exaggerated moan. “Whoa, I am bushed!”

She opened one eye to see the lone alicorn passenger of the vessel. Soldiers and sailors spared her a glance, then went about their duties. Twilight Sparkle didn’t move, aside from a slight twitch of her ear.

Rainbow rolled onto her belly and scooted her way to Twilight’s side. “Okay, so maybe a standing ovation wasn’t in the cards, but you gotta admit I did a good job, right? I mean, that’s some classic ‘Rainbow Dash’ outside that window.”

Twilight gave her a slight nod.

“’Cuz weather manipulation’s always been a hobby of mine. And vocation.” Rainbow Dash tapped her hooves together. “It’s just something I do pretty good. Usually turns out alright. Usually.”

Twilight shrugged. Her wings shivered against her back, knocking loose a feather.

Rainbow trailed the feather’s fall with her eyes. She spread her wings and waved a hoof. “So we’ve got a couple days before we arrive. Sounds like the perfect time to plan all the fun things we’re gonna do when we get back. I say we need some serious R and R time with the girls. I’ll hook up my projector and we can watch a few movies in the den. Snarf popcorn until we burst. That kinda thing.”

Rainbow tried to ignore the glazed look in Twilight’s eyes. “Of course, that’s after you visit your parents and see that they’re okay. Definitely gotta give that priority. But maybe you’re burnt out with movies. Maybe we ought to do something else. Take a trip or something…”

She pumped a hoof. “I got it! November just started, so winter’s right around the corner. We gotta take you for another tour of Cloudsdale when it brings snow and stuff to Canterlot. It’s a real bustling place when the holidays come around. Pretty as a snowflake all by itself. A giant snowflake, but… you know…”

She rocked on her hind legs. She bit her lip and rubbed her pinions against Twilight’s folded wings. “That sounds like fun, right? Singing Hearth’s Warming Carols, roasting marshmallows by the fire, watching the world turn white thousands of miles below… With all of us. All six of us together again. That sounds good, right? It sounds like something you wanna do, right?”

Twilight Sparkle brushed her mane away from her cheek. She turned her head to Rainbow Dash and gave her a small smile and a bob of her head. Her eyes went to her hooves as she faced the window.

Rainbow Dash’s eyes stung. She wiped her snout and got to her feet. “I’m gonna grab something from the mess. You hungry? Want a sandwich or something?”

Twilight Sparkle rubbed her belly. She mouthed “Yes, please.”

“Awesome,” Rainbow said, her voice cracking. “I’ll get right on that. Back in a dash. Like, a split-second.”

She trotted swiftly through the airship to the small galley in the midsection. The cook and his assistant were hard at work preparing breakfast, which wouldn’t be served for another couple hours. Rainbow Dash cleared her throat. “’Scuse me. You guys got stuff for a quick snack?”

“Yeah, Blueblood always keeps something around for munching.” The cook waved in the general direction of the refrigerator. “Check the fridge. There’s some cheese on the second shelf.”

“Thanks.” Rainbow Dash swung the door open and dug through the contents. Cheese was there, yeah, and so was a bottle of mayonnaise. A few greens and a slice of bread later, it would be a full sandwich. She stuck her tongue out of the side of her mouth and set about building one, her hooves a little unsteady in the wake of minor turbulence. She set two plates on her back and tiptoed back onto the main deck.

She slid a plate in front of Twilight, who hadn’t moved. “Check it. One-hundred-percent premium cheese salad sandwiches. My specialty.”

Twilight grasped the sandwich in her hooves and brought it to her mouth. A large bite was followed by a sigh as the muscles around her face relaxed.

“It’s pretty cool that you can eat solid foods already,” Rainbow said. “I guess that’s the power of ambrosia, am I right?”

Twilight stopped chewing. She let out a choking sob. Setting the sandwich back on the plate, she made her way to the cabins at a fast walk and slammed the door behind her.

Rainbow’s wings jumped out at the loud crash. She winced away from the plate and stared at the closed cabin door. Her ears fell.

The crew members watched her sit still for a moment before returning to their work.

Rainbow Dash left the sandwiches where they were and dove through the airship’s loading ramp. She wheedled through the air until she rose above the envelope. She hitched herself to the ropes running along the sides, securing the airship’s gondola fast. A low moan brought her to her knees.

She felt the wind blow through her mane and feathers. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine the feeling of weightlessness she got when she was soaring above the mountaintops. When she opened her eyes, she saw nothing but the thick, dark clouds she had used to conceal the airship. She frowned and sucked in a breath. “I’m sorry, Twi.”

She slammed a hoof. “I’m sorry I suck so much at this!”

She flopped to her side, wiping the tears frozen to her cheeks. “Why do I suck so much at helping?” She blew her multicolored mane from her eyes. “What would Pinkie Pie do?”

She widened her eyes and spread a silly grin across her face. “‘Uh oh! Looks like Twilie-Wily got a boo-boo! Better have a “Super-Sorry You Lost Your Voice to a Blood-Thirsty Assassin” party! Bring me the cake with a giant scar!’”

She covered her eyes with a hoof. “Blech. Even my inner Pinkie sucks at being comforting.”

“Captain Dash?”

“Horseapples!” Rainbow Dash shot to her hooves, quick to wipe the crystallizing dampness from her coat. She threw a salute to the pony that had managed to sneak up on her. “Uh, Commander Skyhook, sir. Just keeping a lookout, sir.”

Skyhook flapped his bat-like wings as he hovered over the airship. “Sure. You’d better head inside. The temperature’s gonna drop pretty quickly once we reach altitude.”

“Right. I knew that.” Rainbow Dash unhitched herself from the envelope and flapped her way upward. “Um. Anything else I should know?”

Skyhook’s left fang dug into his lip. “That some things take time and you shouldn’t give up?”

Rainbow Dash rubbed the back of her neck. “Right. I knew that, too.”

She rolled her head, followed by her shoulders. “Aw, heck. I’d better get some shut-eye. See you tomorrow, Commander.”

She plummeted downward, opening her wings at just the right moment to send her looping into the ship. Commander Skyhook followed at a slower pace. The Sky’s Limit floated south towards Equestria, its passengers quiet.

***

Care Carrot stepped into the dark room, lit only by the reading lamp at the bedside. She thought about knocking, or turning on the overhead lamp, but decided against it. She cleared her throat. “Hello? Mrs. Velvet?”

Twilight Velvet closed her novel and set it on her chest. Her face was wrapped in thick bandages, there to protect her broken nose and fractured cheekbone. Her jaw was sore, but she managed to speak all the same. “Care. Have a seat.”

Care pulled a chair closer to the hospital bed. She tugged her ponytail over one shoulder. “How is Mr. Light?”

“Sleeping peacefully. The surgery went well.” Velvet cracked a smile through scabby lips. “It’s gonna take more than a knife to put that geezer in the ground.”

“Good.” Care hugged herself loosely in the chilly room. “I… I’ve been meaning to speak with you about what happened.”

Velvet nodded. She waved a hoof at a side table pushed against the wall. “Mind pouring me a drink? My magic ain’t great when I’m on medication.”

Care lit her horn with a cheerful pink glow. A pitcher was tipped, a cup was filled, and Twilight Velvet accepted it with her hooves.

“Thanks,” Velvet said. “Now that’s a refresher.”

She balanced the cup on top of her book’s cover. “What did you want to talk about? Give it to me straight.”

Care poured herself a glass and took a sip. “I’ve been thinking about what you said the day we met. About how you should only kill if there’re other peoples’ lives on the line.”

“That’s generally how I feel about it, yeah.” Velvet rested her head against her pillow. “It’s something I’ve instilled in my children, it’s something I’d discussed with the soldiers under my command, it’s something I demand of my police officers daily… You might say I believe that statement pretty firmly.”

A word caught itself in Care’s throat before she could speak it. “And—and the other day, when we were attacked by Hurricane… and I was just gonna shoot her…”

Velvet’s mouth remained a thin line. She rolled a hoof. “And?”

“And I…” Care brought a hoof to her forehead. “And I kinda spat in the face of your philosophy, didn’t I?”

Velvet shrugged her shoulders and shimmied down into her covers. “If you were one of my kids, I’d be telling you that I’m too old to wait for ponies to beat around the bush. Since you’re not, I’ll just shoot for asking you what you really want to say.”

Care wrinkled her nose and rubbed her forehooves together. She kicked out with a hind leg. “Pony feathers. I don’t have a point. I was just… hoping it would come out. I can’t—” She tapped her horn. “I can’t make any sense out of all this, Mrs. Velvet! With Hurricane, and the assassinations, and the fighting, and everybody getting hurt, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do!”

“There’s more where that came from,” Velvet muttered under her breath.

Care slid to her feet and paced around the room. “Every time we fight Hurricane, she hurts us. She hurts us badly. I want to see her stopped. I want to see her stopped dead in her tracks. I want her to be utterly destroyed. I thought I was doing better, but when I was right there, in the same room as her, I wanted nothing more than to kill her.”

She swished her tail. “And I’m not sure if that makes me a bad person or not.”

Velvet took a slow sip. She swished her water in the bottom of the glass.

Care glanced her way. “People tell me I won’t feel any better if I kill her, but the number of ponies that can stop her is shrinking. If I take revenge, what does that make me?” She shook her head “How can you live out your philosophy and still be a soldier?”

“Because when you’re out on that battlefield,” Velvet said, “everypony’s life is on the line. Your teammates are relying on you, the friends and family you left behind are relying on you, and the entire country is relying on you. If you fail to act, the consequences will fall on them.”

She downed the rest of her drink and set the cup on the table. “I believe the way I do because I consider every life to be a precious, irreplaceable thing. Precious things can be broken, and they can become diseased, and when that happens they become dangerous to everything else that is precious on this earth. So we—the kind of people who are strong, sure, steadfast—take up arms and stop them.”

With a groan, Velvet rolled onto her side. She stuck a hoof out of the blankets to get her IV free. “I wouldn’t have batted an eye if you had shot Hurricane right in her face. That would have been the end of it for me. She would have been defeated, and I could have gone back to my life.” She pursed her lips. “But that’s not what you’re worried about. What sort of life would you have after doing that?”

Care sat on the cold hospital floor. She let her ears droop down. “I don’t want to be this angry. I don’t want to hate anybody. I don’t know what would happen to me if I took revenge, but I know it wouldn’t be good. How can I keep fighting her with all this baggage?” She hung her head. “How do you stay sane?”

Velvet let out a low chuckle. “Who said I do?”

Care ventured a tiny smirk. “A thousand stories of a thousand adventures, all revolving around the unstoppable legend known as Twilight Velvet.”

Twilight Velvet was able to conjure a brief grin. “Every word of those stories is true, and don’t you forget it.” She nestled back into the bed with a sigh. “I do have a trick to staying sane, though. It might work for you…”

Velvet nibbled her lip as she mulled over her thoughts. “Passion… is a good thing. The drive and desire to get things done is good, Care. The urge to fight is a good thing. The strength to never give up is a good, really good, darn good thing. Don’t try to wipe that out. It’ll just leave you a hollow husk.

“What—what a lot of passionate people forget is that…” Velvet stretched and cracked her back. “Ow. They forget that if they focus on the bad things that need to be fixed, their entire outlook is going to be colored by negativity. They’re going to see a world that is just… just wicked and unfixable and disgusting. Their passion goes towards tearing down the nasty things. They become argumentative and spiteful.” She blinked back a sting in her eyes. “I think that’s… that’s Hurricane. She was the bravest of the Founders, but now it’s all about destroying what she sees as wrong.”

She reached out and prodded the center of Care’s chest just over the heart. “But if you focus your energy on building up what’s good and right with the world… If you put your passion and drive towards making it a better place… If you fight for what you know to be true and good and pure… If you face the world with the attitude that what you do today can make tomorrow better… Then, you’ll have a much better life because of it. You’ll be fulfilled, pumped up, ready for round three.”

Care met Velvet’s eyes. She set her jaw and nodded softly with a sigh. “I see.”

Velvet awaited further reactions. Finding none, she swallowed a lump. “Care, if you take one thing away from this whole hokey speech, it’s this: Don’t fight against something evil, fight for something good.”

Care slumped and gritted her teeth. “But… what if—”

“Hay.” Velvet touched Care’s chin. “Chest out. Stomach in. Head high. Celestia chose you to be the leader of her personal security force. You don’t have anything to prove to anybody. Least of all me.”

Care’s lip twitched. “But you’re my hero.”

“So follow my example and be a hero.” Velvet patted her cheek. “Get out there and fight for Equestria. Fight to protect Celestia, not to stop Hurricane. Fight to make your friends and family safe, not to see your enemies destroyed.” She smiled wide. “Keep it up and one day those stories are gonna be about you. Then you can have this same conversation with the upstart new recruit looking for her place in life.”

Care wiped her cheek before the tear could fall. “Wh—where can I start?”

“I’m not the only member of our team who got hurt last week.” Velvet grasped her book and popped it open to her bookmark. “I think there might be a few who need a friend.”

Care got to her hooves and shifted her weight from one to another. She bobbed her head and trotted towards the door.

“One last thing, Care.”

Care Carrot half-turned to look at Velvet.

Twilight Velvet bowed as much as she could from her position on the bed. “Thank you so much for saving my life. I’ll never forget it.”

Care walked through the door with her head held just a little higher.

***

The world tasted gray to Blankety Blank. He couldn’t sense the emotions in the air. Not those of his nurses, or his doctors, or the guards on constant watch. His horn would take some time to regrow, so things weren’t likely to change anytime soon.

He rubbed the chitin on his foreleg, which had only just started to harden. White gradually faded to black as his natural armor came together. His spongy legs could support his weight, save for the one with the punctured knee. His sensitive breathing organs were hidden beneath blackened plates. His multifaceted eyes grew less pained as a film of phlegm covered them.

But he still couldn’t taste emotions.

He sucked on a candy cane. The sugar would help his body produce just enough magic to survive, but the sooner he could munch on some real, honest-to-goodness love, the better. He stared at the closed door of his guest room at Twilight Sparkle’s castle, listening to the clatter of guards on the other side. He wasn’t sure where he was going to get love once he could eat it. He did know that it wasn’t going to be from them.

His door rattled, which was followed by a voice. “Blank? It’s Care. Can I come in?”

“Depends on whether you know how to open doors,” he muttered in a clicking, chattering language. Switching to a more pony-esque voice, he said “Yeah, go ahead.”

Care poked her head inside, chewing her lower lip. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

“N-no. I molted a w-week ago, and my n-next interrogation isn’t for another hour.” He pulled a chair from a nearby desk and pushed it towards her. “Sit. What c-can I do for you?”

Care rested in the chair. “I wanted to apologize.”

“You did.”

“I know, but—”

“And I forgave you.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t…”

She trailed off. Blankety lowered his eyebrows. “B-but what?” he said.

“Um…” Care blushed bright red against her orange coat. “This isn’t my day for being prepared to talk.”

Blankety Blank hobbled over to his bed and rested on the edge. “Care, I’m hurt, I’m hungry, and I just plain don’t f-feel good. I want to rest. Please just t-tell me what’s on your mind and—”

“I do want to be friends!” Care blurted. She swallowed and spoke in a quieter voice. “I—I mean I do want to be friends.”

Blankety lowered his eyebrows. He focused as hard as he could, but all he could taste was a pale gray flavor. “Th-that’s a change.”

“I know.” Care blew a bang away from her forehead. “I’m sorry. Really sorry. I know… back on the train, you opened up to me and I pushed you away. That wasn’t cool. You were trying to help and I…”

She leaned back and stared at the crystalline ceiling. It twinkled in the light of Blankety’s lantern. “I’m tired of being on my own. I can’t do this by myself.”

Blankety Blank drummed his hooves on the bedspread. He shrugged and remained silent.

Care lowered her head to look at him. She let out a deep sigh, letting her lips fall into a soft frown. “And… maybe I can help you, too. That’s what a team does, right? That’s what friends do, right? Work together and help each other?”

“Yes.” Blank licked the tip of one fang. “But are we a team?”

“Kinda?” Care waved a hoof. “Pretty much? We have a united goal.”

“Y-yeah,” Blank mumbled. “Taking down Hurricane. R-real inspiring.”

“I don’t…” Care Carrot scratched her head. “It has to be more than that, doesn’t it?”

Blankety grunted. “I guess it’s most l-likely gonna end w-with her dead—”

“No, I mean, we fight for something bigger than that, right?” Care reached out and touched Blankety’s foreleg. “Something special and important to all of us.”

Blank sucked in a breath. Warmth flowed from Care’s hoof to his. A spark of something tingled on the tip of his horn. “I guess… What do you mean?”

“Daring Do. She was honorably discharged, without a home, unsure of the road ahead.” Care wrinkled her forehead as she thought. “Something similar happened to Turner. You were imprisoned, alone, and friendless. I—” She cleared her throat. “I was practically a filly who ran away from home. Life was looking pretty down for all of us, except for one thing. There’s this one thing we all have in common.”

A smile touched the edge of Blankety’s mouth. “Life was awful… but then Celestia happened.”

“Right. So she gave us all jobs, pointed us towards progress, helped us find purpose.” Care laughed, patting Blankety’s hoof and sliding back into her chair. “You three with the Knights of Harmony, and me with the Royal Guard. Some way or another, she saved all of us.”

She tilted her head. “Now it’s our turn to save her. And we can’t do it alone.”

Blankety Blank blinked his buggish eyes. “S-something’s different about you. I think it’s a good thing.”

“Maybe it helped that I had a little sense knocked into me by our mutual mentor.” Care bopped the side of her head. “Maybe I’ve finally come up against a wall I can’t climb myself. Mostly, I think I’m tired of being angry.”

“Me, too.” Blank glanced out his window and saw the moon sparkle in the sky. A silhouetted wing of pegasi soldiers flew through the light. “So what’s our n-next move, friend?”

“We train.” Care slapped a hoof against the other. “We build our strength back up. When we get our next opportunity to defend our country and our friends, we smash the threat to smithereens.”

Blank pulled his lips to one side. “To smithereens, huh?”

“Well …” Care grinned. “It pays to shoot for decisive victories, you know? You in?”

Bankety Blank flexed his injured knee. “Soon as I c-can stand on my own four hooves, I’m heading s-straight for the exercise mat.”

Author's Note

Insert training montage!

Heart

Caution Tape marched down the crystalline hallway, his helmet tucked underneath his foreleg. He actively avoided looking at his reflection in the polished surfaces all around. He didn’t want to see what he already knew. He didn’t want to see the emptiness in his eyes.

Princess Celestia’s room was dead ahead, with two soldiers standing guard outside. Caution gave them a big smile; the type they’d come to expect from him. “Mornin’, mates. Oi’m here tah relieve you.”

Sturm and Drang turned as one. “Lieutenant, sir. Good morning,” Sturm said. “The forenoon watch?”

“The one and only.” Caution grinned. “Those lovely, lovely hours between breakfast and lunch.”

Drang moved away from the door, stretching his hind legs. “More power to you. I feel like I’ve been up all night.”

“You have been up all night.” Sturm flexed his wings, enchanted by his full armor to be colored white. “I can hear the bunks calling from here.”

“You two get yourselves tucked in b’fore you collapse from exhaustion.” Caution laughed and set his helmet atop his head. He secured the clasp with a swift, practiced movement. “Oi’ll keep up the vigil. Her Majesty’s in good hooves.”

Sturm nodded, but Drang held up a hoof. “Hold on. Where’s your partner?”

Caution felt his neck muscles seize up. He licked the inside of his teeth. “Partner?”

“Regulations state that there should be two guards together at all times.” Drang shrugged. “Is your second running late?”

Caution smiled. He shook his head and gripped his spear tighter. “Right you are, mate. I guess Corporal Drizzle got hisself turned around in this big old castle.”

“I’ll stick with you until the corporal catches up.” Sturm moved back to his position beside the door to Celestia’s chambers. “You go on ahead, Drang. I’ll be along in a minute or so.”

“Thanks, bud.” Drang waved to the both of them. “I’ll see you guys in the mess hall later.”

“Right you are, mate.” Caution stared straight ahead, his ears erect. He listened to Sturm’s movement as the other guard settled in. “Thanks for the help. Dunno what oi woulda told the boss-lady if oi hadn’t been following regulations.”

“No problem.” Sturm fell back into the old habits. He kept his face cool and his muscles relaxed but primed for action. His spear was held at the ready. His armor hummed faintly with magical energy. “We’ve got to keep each other accountable. Be there for each other, you know? This whole thing could fall apart if we don’t.”

“Don’t oi know it.” Caution reached a hoof out and laid it on Sturm’s shoulder. “Oi just wanted to say one thing, Sturm.”

Sturm turned with a small smile.

“Oi’m sorry.”

Caution flicked the clasp on Sturm’s helmet with a quick, familiar motion. Sturm’s smile dissolved along with the magic shield around his entire body. Before the pegasus could react, Caution beat him over the head with his spear-butt. Another strike followed it up, harder than the last.

Caution stood over his fallen victim, breathing heavily. The spear fell from numbed hooves and clattered to the ground. He kicked Celestia’s door open. He dragged the bleeding, unconscious guard inside and leaned him against the wall with his spear tucked under his wing. With a shuddering breath, Lieutenant Caution Tape of the Royal Guard slammed the door shut behind him.

He wiped sweat from his forehead. Small, uncertain steps took him to Celestia’s bedside. “Oi’m sorry, Princess.”

Her body was covered in medicinal drips and nutritional feeds. A mask covered her face, drawing oxygen from a pump and filling her lungs. Bandages covered the still-healing wound in her chest—a cavity that had yet to be filled. Her mane, once brilliant, flowing, ethereal hair was a dull pink. Her cheeks lay sunken beneath eyes that had been closed for over a month.

“It’s almost a favor oi’m doin’ for yah,” Caution whispered. “You’re all ready to die an’ they just won’t let yah.”

He picked his spear up. “You don’t need tah worry none. We’ve got your kingdom all nice an’ safe. We—we just gorra free the Master an’ we won’t even need an alicorn to raise the sun and moon. The Master… he can do it all hisself. He says he was meant to do it. So… so don’t worry none.”

Caution looked at his spear-point. He pulled his helmet from his head. “Sorry oi’m stallin’. Just don’t feel right finishin’ the job in full uniform, you know?”

His heart beat faster in his chest. He blinked rapidly. “It ain’t all bad, oi swear. Life ’ll go on. An’… an’ this is somethin’ oi need to do. This is somethin’ oi gorra do for her.”

He set his spear beside the bed, his chest heaving. He wiped the sweat from his snout. “You know what it’s like to do somethin’ terrible for the pony you love, right? That whole muck-an’-mire with the mirrors. You’ve made mistakes before. Just like all of us.”

He reached over and gently removed Celestia’s breathing mask. “Help me correct a mistake oi made long ago.”

***

Princess Celestia stared up at a night sky that was not her own. The stars were out of place. The clouds were black and sinister. The air held a breath-taking chill not felt since the old times.

The moon was marred by an ugly scar.

Celestia bit back a sob. Every time she saw the moon, it was a reminder of that night. That horrible night had almost lasted forever. And in a sense, perhaps it would, if only in her heart.

Princess Luna moved through the dreamscape to touch Celestia’s shoulder. “Do not despair, sister. These evil years are done. I am back.”

Celestia never noticed her. She continued staring up at the silvery disk, discolored by the presence of a mare’s face. A blot on Luna’s record.

“I am back,” Luna said through clenched teeth, “and we need worry about that apparition no longer. Not so long as I have friends.”

“We failed, Clover,” Celestia said.

Luna took a step back. She turned to see a small, wrinkled, graying unicorn mare plod through the ruins of the Palace of the Royal Pony Sisters. The mare’s eyes shone bright through her dark hood. She stepped around a fallen pillar and touched a hoof to Celestia’s side.

Clover shook her wizened head. “It was not your fault, Celestia. Luna made her own choices.”

“I should have seen it.” Celestia’s majestic mane danced in the cold breeze. A snowflake alighted her snout before disappearing with her next breath. “I should have understood what she was feeling and fixed it.”

“You cannot fix people, Princess.” Clover lowered her face. “You are often merely left with the wreckage they leave behind.”

“It is over.” Celestia wiped her eyes. “Equestria, the Everfree, the unity of the tribes—it is all over. We failed to keep our dream alive.”

“No.” Clover took a step back and stared at the princess with level eyebrows. “One setback does not a failed model make—”

“It is not the one. It was never merely the one.” Celestia scuffed a hoof on the ground. “First we lost Platinum and the Crystal Empire, then Hurricane disappeared, then Puddinghead passed, then Pansy fell… Now Luna? We failed. The great experiment failed. How can I maintain unity between the tribes if I cannot maintain unity in my own house?”

She surveyed the demolished courtroom. Stone pillars lay toppled, marble floors were uprooted, stained-glass windows lay scattered across the room. The roof had been completely caved in, making way for the moonlight to shine upon the pedestal that held five of the six Elements of Harmony. The five that remained.

The sixth had disappeared the instant Luna’s banishment began.

“No. Do not give up hope,” Luna whispered into the dream. “All is not lost, if only you remember.”

“How could this happen, Clover?” Celestia leaned against her decimated throne. “We were prophesied to unite the ponies, not divide them. Become the saviors of Equestria, not leave it torn asunder.”

Clover the Clever removed her hood. Her eyes lost their magenta glow, instead turning pale and sightless. She rubbed her reddish, gray-streaked braid and sucked in a deep breath. “No. You were not.”

Clover tilted her head back and recited from memory. “‘These are the words of Starswirl the Bearded, who received these visions from the King of the Universe. It was given to me personally by the Fae of the Seelie Court, that two ponies, of great stature and power, would rise up to free Equestria from its hatred and anger and bring about an era of true harmony and love. They ascended from humble beginnings, hailing from the smallest of cities, ponies of noble heart and fierce strength.’”

Tears poured freely from Clover’s eyes. “‘I saw a pony with eyes of lightning. Her heart was hard and strong with a yearning for justice. She carried the sun on her right wing, and the moon on her left. Fire rained from heaven and consumed her enemies, and all trembled at the sight of her.’”

Celestia crept closer, her teeth clenched. Her wings trembled at her sides.

Clover coughed. “‘I saw a second pony with eyes of shadow. Her heart was merry, though encased in a prison of stone. She carried the moon on her right wing, and the sun on her left. Darkness was her enemy and constant companion, but she would not surrender.’”

Her shoulders shook. “‘The sisters faced adversity and overcame it. They faced trial and tribulation, injury and grief, persecution and hatred. But through it all, they persevered. They ruled over the united ponies, protecting and guiding them, until the end of the age.’”

Celestia stood tall over Clover. Her face contorted to express emotion after emotion, never settling on one for long. She raised a hoof.

“‘And I saw that the sisters loved their little ponies greatly,’” Clover wept. “‘They cared for and watched over and protected their subjects, even to the point of death.’”

Celestia wrapped Clover in a warm hug. Their tears mingled in their coats.

“You are not the pony from the prophesy,” Clover said. “You couldn’t be. They never faltered, not for long. But it doesn’t matter. We need you. We need you more now than ever. We need a pony who can take charge and lead. Who can overcome the evil that is tearing our land asunder and pull it together into something great. We don’t need the prophesied alicorns right now; we need you.”

Celestia looked through the shattered windows to the town, where she could see a small group of ponies packing up their meager belongings. They weren’t the only ones leaving the Everfree. As the once-prosperous land transformed into a tangled, misshapen forest, the ponies under Celestia’s rule set out for brighter lands. Only a few families remained, and even they were preparing for the journey ahead.

Celestia shivered. “If we are not the prophesied ones, then what are we?”

Clover sighed. She pulled away from Celestia and donned her hood. The enchantment on her eyes active once more, she beckoned for the princess to follow her. “There is something… I should have shown this to you many years ago.”

The dream faded around Luna. She swung her head around, focusing as best she could on anything that could keep her anchored in Celestia’s unconscious mind. She took hold of her sister’s wing with a foreleg.

Luna wrinkled her forehead. The dreams had not been that unstable since Celestia’s coma began. A smile crept across Luna’s face; perhaps she was closer to waking up than they thought.

They were in the darkest recesses of the palace, where Clover’s research laboratory lay. A hidden lever in the library revealed a sliding bookcase and a stairway that lead downward, deeper than the dungeons. Torches along the walls lit as Clover passed, a spell on her horn igniting them one by one. The narrow, spiraling stairwell opened up into a massive stone chamber.

Luna’s wings flared out. She skittered backwards. Three glass tubes stood tall in the center of the room, dark and cold. Machines chittered and whirred against the far wall. A podium sat before them, holding a thick, blood-chilling book.

“Clover,” Celestia hissed, “it has been many years since the Crystal Empire disappeared, but I still see the design of Sombra’s laboratory in my nightmares. Why have you replicated it?”

“I…” Clover turned away. “I have completed his work, save for that which required the sacrifice of my most treasured morals. I never murdered ponies in my pursuit of… of immortality. I refused to.”

She rested her hoof on the dusty book. “This tome contains the sum total of the knowledge Sombra, Hurricane, and I have collected over our lifetimes. Every step taken in pursuit of ascension is recorded. Every mishap… and every success.”

Luna looked over Celestia’s shoulder. “The Grimoire Alicorn? The book that was stolen!”

“This will tell you what you are, and how you came to be.” Clover wiped her eyes. “But only you can decide who you are.”

Celestia frowned as she held the tome to her chest. She shut her eyes. “I shall read it, but what—?”

Luna shrieked as Celestia and Clover dissolved into mist. The rest of the dream soon followed, transforming into a quagmire of roiling clouds and the thump of a heavy heartbeat. Lightning flashed to either side of Luna as wind pulled her every which way. She lit her horn and shot a spell into the depths of the dream, seeking an exit.

In the next moment, Luna came awake. The sun sat high over the morning skies of Canterlot, peeking through the drifting cascades of Cloudsdale. The airborne city-state approached Canter Mountain slowly but surely, bringing winter with it.

The dream hadn’t ended with Celestia’s wakefulness, Luna realized, but something far more dangerous. She yanked a rope hanging in the center of the room, sending loud peals from the Dream’s Keep’s alarm bell. “Guards! Guards!”

Two soldiers rushed in, ready to fight. They bowed when they saw Luna alone. “Your Majesty?”

“Bring me the scribes! All of them! Any of them!” Luna gripped one guard by the shoulders and lifted him off the ground. “We must send a message to the Crystal Empire! Celestia is in grave danger!”

***

“Two days?” Blueblood snapped. “What do you mean two days? She doesn’t have two hours!”

Cadence rubbed her forehead, resisting the urge to face-plant in her oatmeal. “She has the whole rest of the week before she even starts fading, Cousin. Two days is plenty of time for the heart to arrive.”

“It’s plenty of time for what magic is still within her to run dry.” Blueblood sniffed and threw back a bitter tonic. “There has to be some sort of safeguard.”

Silver Lance popped his head up. “What about using the Crystal Heart? That has magic.”

“First of all, that’s stupid,” Twilight Amore said. “Second of all, it’s too big. It wouldn’t even fit in her chest cavity. Third of all—”

“Third of all stop fighting, Twilie.” Shining Armor leaned his foreleg on the table. “Fourth of all, Lance, stop enabling your cousin.”

“What’s that mean?” Silver asked.

Cadence cleared her throat. “It means something not nice, so don’t say it.”

“It means we should get our minds on something besides Aunt Celestia.” Shining Armor’s playful smirk was met with a deadpan stare from Cadence. He shrugged and went back to his oatmeal. “But mind your mother. She’s right about not saying that to ponies.”

Cadence rolled her eyes. She turned to Fleur de Lis, who had eaten her entire meal in complete silence. “Fleur, how are things going?”

Fleur stared at her empty bowl, her mane hanging before her face. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Right.” Cadence blew a breath through her lips. She clicked her tongue and craned her neck towards Amore. “Oh, Twilight, your wings…”

Twilight Amore folded her wings tighter against her side and blushed. “I was going to preen after breakfast.”

“That’s what you said last—” Cadence sighed. “Come to the throne room after we’re done. I’ll help you clean your feathers.”

“Aw…”

Blueblood snorted. He pushed his chair from the table. “I’m going to visit my dying aunt. Any objections?”

Fleur didn’t look up. Cadence and Shining exchanged a glance before the prince waved him off. “Go for it. See you at lunch time,” Shining said.

“Thank you.” Blueblood tapped his teeth together. “And yes, see you then.”

***

Caution expanded his armored chest with a deep breath. He had shut off the pulse monitor before unplugging it, keeping its alarms silent. The IV bag hung uselessly from its stand, dripping life-giving ambrosia on the crystal floor. Celestia grew paler as he watched, all but shriveling into a husk.

“You’re going home,” he said. “You’ll see your friends. Your family; or whatever immortal alicorns count as one. There’ll be peace in your life.” He nodded to himself. “This is a good thing.”

He lowered his head and grinned. “An’ they’ll finally let me see my love again. Oi’ll be with her forever, Celestia. She’s so beautiful. Her lavender coat. Her piercing eyes. That dark smile that’s just nothin’ but brilliant. The voice of an angel. She’s been gone so long…”

He rubbed Celestia’s pale, pink mane. “So sleep tight, Princess. Rest well until the time when all awaken. Oi promise, oi’ll keep the kingdom sa—”

The door slammed open, accompanied by an indignant shout. “Where in the name of Tartarus are the guards?”

Caution spun around, kicking his spear into a waiting foreleg. He held it at the ready, one hoof outstretched to aim. He zeroed in on Prince Blueblood, who stood stock-still in the doorway, his mouth agape. The prince shook his head, blinking rapidly at the impossibility before him.

“What…” Blueblood grabbed his blue bowtie and loosened it. A sob stuck in his throat. “What have you done?”

Caution gritted his teeth. “Made a choice.”

He launched the spear. It sung as it sped on its way to Blueblood’s heart. The prince jumped aside, but the blade sank deep into his left foreleg. A cry leapt from Blueblood’s chest as he curled up.

Caution charged. He flew over Blueblood’s head with a strong leap. A spell from the prince’s horn grasped his legs and stopped him short. The guard’s chin smacked into the floor, chipping a tooth.

With a grunt, Caution stood up. He grasped the spear in a foreleg and twisted it. He placed his other hoof on Blueblood’s head to hold him down. “You might not have wanted to do that, Your Highness.”

Blueblood’s leg screamed, and he screamed back. His head pounded, his stomach churned, and his heart thundered. Tears spilled down his cheeks, mingling with the blood on the ground. Pressure built as the guard pressed down.

“He—glurgh!” He jolted as Caution aimed a kick at his stomach and cut off his shout. He couldn’t move, much less fight. He glanced around for something, anything, to help. He saw the pooling ambrosia, he saw the silent monitors, he saw the dying alicorn princess on the bed…

He saw the other guard’s spear.

A hasty spell yanked it across the room to slash Caution across the face. The massive earth pony reeled back and released Blueblood. The prince jumped up and bucked his hind legs, catching Caution across the nose.

Caution grunted and bucked with his own powerful hind legs. Prince Blueblood careened across the room.

The guardspony held a hoof to his bleeding face. He teetered before picking up his helmet. He set it upon his head and marched down the hallway. He had minutes to reach the getaway vehicle before somepony knew something was wrong. He cursed to himself when he realized he’d left his spear embedded in Blueblood’s leg. Caution doubled his pace, turning to a spiraling stairwell.

***

Blueblood came to and immediately wished he had not. He could barely see through the searing pain behind his eyes. His chest was bruised from the impact of two hooves. He could barely feel his left foreleg.

Even with all that, Princess Celestia still looked worse.

“Are you alright, Your Highness?” Sturm asked, nursing a head injury of his own. “Can you stand?”

“Don’t worry about me!” Blueblood pushed the guard away. “See to Celestia! Help Celestia! Do something!”

“I—I tried, sir.” Sturm’s throat bobbed. He pressed his hooves against Blueblood’s shoulders. “Please, lie down. There’s… I can’t feel a pulse, and she doesn’t have a heart… I can’t even perform CPR—”

“To blazes with hearts!” Blueblood roared. He staggered over to the bed and pressed down on Celestia’s bandaged chest. “We have to try! There has to be something!”

Sturm’s lips trembled. “But sir—”

“Get the doctor!” Blueblood’s voice rose to a shrill scream. “Tell him to think of something! Get Shining and Cadence! Get anybody who could do anything!”

Sturm flinched back. He held up a hoof. “But—”

“Now!” Blueblood screeched. He pounded his hooves, punctuating each word. “Go, go, go, go!”

***

Caution Tape pushed past a housekeeper, almost knocking her off her feet. He would have apologized under normal circumstances. The circumstances he found himself in, however, were anything but. He avoided eye-contact with everypony. He stared straight ahead and marched straight ahead.

“Lieutenant, your face!”

Caution hesitated for a beat, just long enough for Drang to catch up with him. The younger guard had discarded his armor for a simple band around his foreleg. “What happened? Was there an accident?”

“Just a minor one,” Caution said. “Barely a scratch. Oi’m just headed for the—”

“A scratch!” Drang gripped Caution’s shoulder hard enough to slow him. “Sir, have you seen your eye?”

“Wha—?” Caution was turned towards the polished crystalline wall. He saw himself fully, from his hooves to his mane. His armor glistened, his muscles flexed, his tail swished.

An ugly cut traced across his muzzle, ending just under his left eye. The once-green shimmer of its iris had been clouded over by a red deep enough to match his coat.

Caution licked his bleeding lips. “That’s gonna affect the ol’ depth-perception.”

“You can say that again!” Drang gripped him tight. “You’re going right to the infirmary. You can file an accident report after the damage is repaired. A little ambrosia and some reconstructive surgery ought to—”

Caution took off at a gallop.

Drang stared wide-eyed as his commanding officer made a run for it. He shook his head and followed him, his legs aching. “Sir, I don’t understand! Sir! Caution, stop!”

***

Mi Amore Cadenza and Shining Armor charged into Celestia’s room. Cadence stopped up short and covered her mouth. “Oh, dear Creator, no!”

“What happened, Sturm?” Shining nodded to the guard. “Who did this? Where is he?”

“It was Lieutenant Caution Tape, Your Highness.” Sturm glanced at Blueblood’s pitiful attempts at CPR and swallowed. “He deactivated my armor and knocked me out. When I came to, I saw… this. I don’t know where he went. He could be anywhere.”

Shining Armor growled from the pit of his stomach. His horn charged with magic, glowing pure white. “He can only be one place at a time.”

The Prince of the Crystal Empire vanished in a shower of pink sparks.

Blueblood fell to his rump. His forelegs shook from the constant effort. “Cadence! Help, please!”

“I… I don’t…” Cadence reached out a hoof to touch Celestia’s pale cheek. “I don’t know how.”

“Where’s the blooming doctor?” Blueblood hissed, his voice hoarse. “Can’t he think up something?”

“We haven’t been able to find him, Your Highness,” Sturm said. He heaved a sigh and let his shoulders slump. “I… I’m afraid we’ve lost her… It’s not possible.”

“Rut the impossible!” Blueblood slapped his good hoof on the ground. He followed it up with another. “And rut giving up! There has to be something… we haven’t tried?”

Something sparked in Blueblood’s eyes. He lifted his head with bitter determination. “Cadence… Aunt Celestia is dying because she is running out of magic. Correct?”

Cadence shut her eyes tight. “Yes, Blue. That and her heart. She’s just…” Her wings drooped. “I wasn’t supposed to have to say goodbye to her.”

“Focus!” Blueblood leapt to his feet and fell flat on his face. He struggled his way upward. “What if we could pump her full of magic? More magic than anypony would need in their lifetime?”

“What do—?” Cadence gasped. She shook her head violently. “No! No you can’t! I won’t allow it in my kingdom!”

“No, Cadence, please.” He reached for her hoof. “Hear me out—”

“Blueblood, that much magic blew Sombra to pieces!” She slapped him away. “I won’t let you do the exact same thing to my aunt!”

“She’s already dead!” Blueblood sobbed. “She’s already dead and blowing her up won’t make her any deader. It has a chance of working! It has the slimmest, slightest, most threadbare chance of working imaginable, but it’s a chance. It’s a chance she doesn’t have otherwise. We have to use the Crystal Heart.”

Silver popped his head into the room, followed closely by Amore. “Did I hear somebody’s trying the Crystal Heart idea? Told you it wasn’t stupid.”

“It is so!” Twilight Amore declared. She folded her wings pristinely against her back. “It’s very dumb.”

Cadence wiped her face with a feather. “Kids, you can’t be here. Go play, please—”

“No, wait.” Blueblood all but dragged himself over to the children. He raised his head to look them in the eyes. They held their breath as they took in his injuries. “Lance, Amore,” Blueblood said, “we need your help to save Celestia. Go into the city and tell everypony to meet in the castle square. We’re activating the Crystal Heart and we need everybody. Take as many of the castle staff as you can find. We need everypony. Everypony.”

Silver Lance shuffled his hooves. “Is this gonna make Aunt Celestia feel better?”

“It might.” Blueblood touched the young colt’s shoulder. “It very well may, and that’s a chance we have to take.”

Twilight Amore look up to her mother. Cadence moved her mouth for a long moment before the words came out. “Go,” she said. “Do as Cousin Blueblood said. Fly as fast as you can. Lance, you go to the barracks. Amore, you start with the kitchen. Get all the staff to help. I’ll move Auntie to the courtyard.”

“Yes, momma,” the kids said in unison. They scampered off as fast as their short legs could carry them.

Cadence flicked her horn at Sturm. “Help me with the bed.”

Blueblood held his injured foreleg against his chest. He followed behind the two ponies as they wheeled the bed towards a magic-powered elevator. He allowed a hint of hope to well up in his heart.

But only a hint.

***

Caution ran past the Crystal Heart. He ran past the pillars holding the Crystal Palace up. He ran past the crowds of people sightseeing and going about their business in the massive city surrounding the heart of the Empire. He could still sense Drang following him by the guard’s occasional shouts and apologies. He had to lose the younger stallion. He had to get away.

The waiting carriage was just the ticket.

The vehicle was pitch-black, with a nondescript stallion secured to the harness. The carriage was carved from wood with a careful hoof, depicting all sorts of vile creatures and mythical monsters. Grotesques, chimeras, venomous snakes, and cockatrices battled for dominance amidst the side panels.

Caution let out a sigh of relief. The Maid had come for him, as promised.

His nose bumped against a pink bubble. The crowd backed away with nervous looks on their faces. Magic shimmered all around, filling the air with warmth and energy.

The carriage pulled away before Caution could blink.

“Traitor!” came a voice from behind Caution. Shining Armor stood tall in the bubble of magic, his horn alight with power. “You heaping pile of steaming horseapples.”

The prince was in full armor. His helmet glistened with gold and royal purple. His chest plate held the same symbol found in his cutie mark, securing a sash to his chest. Greaves protected his legs, while metal boots covered his hooves.

“You just tried to assassinate one of the most beloved ponies in the world.” Shining Armor pulled a javelin from a quiver on his back. “Did you actually think you could get away with it? Why in the world would you do such a thing?”

Caution cracked his neck. He had seen Shining Armor’s shield hold up to an entire army of changelings, but it had fallen… once Shining was defeated. He watched as Shining Armor shot a spell into the shield to reinforce its strength.

Caution wasn’t getting out until the spell-caster had been taken down, but neither was the prince. “Lemme ask you somethin’, Your Highness: What do you think is worth it?”

Shining Armor snarled. “Absolutely nothing.”

“Now, see—” Caution rolled his shoulders and squared his hooves. “—you’d be singin’ a different tune if it was your love on the line.”

“That’s the thing, Caution.” Shining Armor gave his spell another charge. “My sister almost died. My mother and father are in the hospital. My little bro is depressed. You’re trying to tell me the people I love aren’t on the line?”

Caution Tape raised his hooves, ready to intercept an attack. “Oi’m sorry. Oi just wanted—”

“You’ve messed with the Sparkle family, dude; you and all your buddies.” Shining hefted his double-pointed javelin. “Don’t make me enjoy this any more than I have to!”

Shining jabbed, but Caution knocked the tip aside. The earth pony guard followed up with a swift series of punches. Shining ducked under them and butted his head against Caution’s chest. Magic sparked between them as their armors’ shields scraped across each other. Shining nailed his opponent with the point of his weapon. It bounced away from the enchantment.

Caution grabbed Shining around the neck. He twisted his body around and threw the prince to the ground. A kick flung the javelin to the far end of the magic bubble. Shining took a deep breath and pushed himself to his feet, picking Caution off the ground. The traitor smashed his hooves into Shining’s back with a metal-crunching, magic-shattering blow.

Shining hit the ground, his armor sputtering in the wake of the impact. Before he could stand, he was launched into the shimmering bubble enclosing the battle. His teeth rattled from the impact.

“If you let down the barrier,” Caution said, “oi’m willin’ tah walk away.”

Shining Armor’s battered armor hummed back to life. “Fat chance.”

***

Twilight Amore flew above the ponies milling through the market place. She waved her hooves as she went, shouting at the top of her lungs. “Everypony to the square! Everypony get to the town square!”

Silver Lance zipped around, between, and under ponies, shaking their legs or grabbing their shoulders. “We need to activate the Crystal Heart! Celestia needs us!”

The crystal ponies muttered amongst themselves, but they headed for the Crystal Palace all the same. Amore stopped to catch her breath and landed on a nearby kiosk. “Is that everypony?”

Silver craned his neck. “Everypony who can run. Or… everypony who wants to help.”

Twilight Amore dropped to her rump. “Where do we go next? The library or the train station?”

“Sturm said he’d go to the train station.” Silver jogged in place. His breath came out of his mouth in a fog. “If we go to the library, we’ll be able to loop back to the square in about five minutes.”

Amore rubbed her dark mane. “Will we be in time?”

“Sure.” Silver Lance bobbed his head and leaped his way towards the east end of town. “No problem.”

“You’re too confident.” Amore stretched the wings she had just finished grooming. “I’m too old to be that confident.”

“You’re only a year older than me!”

“That’s way older!”

“Is not!”

“Is too!”

“Is…” Silver skidded to a halt. His eyes fell on a pink bubble standing out from the glistening crystal all around. His eyes followed the two ponies inside. “Dad?”

Shining Armor’s head snapped towards Silver and Amore. His jaw dropped.

Caution’s hoof threw him backwards.

“Dad!” Silver slipped on a patch of ice before finding his footing. He raced to the edge of the magic bubble and pressed his hooves against it. “Look out!”

Caution wiped spittle from his mouth. “Think about it, Armor. Don’t let your kids see their dad get hurt like this.”

Shining twirled his javelin around his foreleg, bringing it to a stop aimed at Caution’s heart. “Good thing that’s not gonna happen.”

Caution cracked his neck, then two of his knees. “Aw’right, then.”

They charged at each other while the children looked on.

***

Cadence pushed Celestia’s hospital bed into the courtyard beneath the palace. The guards set up a perimeter around the Crystal Heart, loading crossbows and gripping spears. Cadence brushed a hoof across her aunt’s face, silently praying.

Blueblood hobbled along beside her, his normally-slick suit wrinkled and bloody. He shook his mane. “This is it. The moment of truth.”

“How is this even supposed to work?” Cadence whispered. “We’ve only ever used the heart to protect the Empire.”

“I can’t think of a better way to do just that.” Blueblood waved at an oncoming group of ponies. “There they are! The citizens are here! Say something, Cadence!”

“I…” Cadence nodded. She spread her wings and lifted a hoof. “My little ponies! High Princess Celestia has once again come under fire! We need to rally to her side to set things right!”

A murmur arose. The ponies turned to each other, questions on their lips.

“How are we supposed to help Celestia?”

“Did you even know she was here?”

“What can I do?”

“I’m just on vacation!”

Cadence lowered her ears. “Everypony, please calm down! We need to charge the Crystal Heart. Its magic may be the only thing that can save her!”

“Stoop thees instant!”

Blueblood whipped his head around. Fleur ran up to him, Dr. Summerwind seated on her back. The breezie fluttered his way over to Celestia and settled himself on her brow. “Are eyew booth insane?” he snapped. “Thees most assuredly will destroy her completely! There is noo way to refill her magic wit’out blowing her fairy strings to pieces and her with them!”

Fleur rested a hoof on her husband’s shoulder. “Blueblood, please. It’s over. There’s nothing more we can—”

“No! No, I refuse to give up like this!” Blueblood let the exhaustion in his chest drag him to the ground. He stared at Celestia’s cold, ravaged body with blood-shot eyes. “I can’t let it end like this. I don’t want to have to remember her like this.”

The ponies around the square fell silent, shuffling their hooves uncomfortably. Coughs, small whimpers, and muttered questions broke the stillness.

Blueblood started at a warmth against his side. He sighed as his wife pressed her cheek against his. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I wanted to believe there was hope. None of us would be here if not for her.”

“That’s true,” Cadence said. “None of us would.”

She extended a wing to the crowd. “None of us would be here if not for Celestia. Not me, not Blueblood, not my children… and not you, people of the Crystal Empire! Every single one of us owes our lives and livelihoods to this one mare. She, who never gave up searching for us. She, who never faltered in leading us. She, who greeted every morning with hope in her heart!”

Cadence flapped her wings until she hovered above the gathered creatures. “And now, she has a greater need than ever before! She is hurt to the point of death, my little ponies, but there is still hope! There is this one last, slim chance that we can restore her, that we can pay her back for all she’s given to us! If we unite in our hearts and our actions, if unity and harmony can spread throughout the city, then we could yet restore life to our princess!”

Tears fell from Blueblood’s face. He sobbed openly in the castle courtyard, with Fleur holding his hoof tight. She gave him a faint, reassuring squeeze.

“Now is the time, Equestrians, crystal ponies, griffons, diamond dogs, and donkeys of the Crystal Empire!” Cadence directed her lit horn towards the spinning Crystal Heart. “Pour all your love and adoration into the Crystal Heart. Grasp at this last chance, my little ponies! Give it everything you have! Now!”

Several ponies bowed instantly, while many others followed in short order. A few stragglers stared with gaping mouths as the courtyard lit up from beneath with blue light. Energy coursed through the air and crackled in the crystalline pathways built into the town square. The light led to the heart of the empire, the center of the castle, to the Crystal Heart itself. It spun faster than the eye could see, and glowed brighter than the eye could stand.

Summerwind leapt from Celelstia’s body. He flew behind one of the four pillars and peered around the edge, his long, curly beard flapping in the strong gusts. “I dun’t think thees is medically sound.”

Lightning leapt from the Heart to strike Celestia. Yellow pathways etched themselves across her body, from her hooves to her wings to her horn. Blueblood jumped up with a shout, but Fleur held him back.

Cadence gritted her teeth, focusing on her horn with all her might. The strain gripped her heart and drained her of strength. She glanced to the left and right, noting that other ponies were growing tired as well. “Stand strong! Keep it up! We cannot give up now! We will not give up!”

The golden lines of magic met at Celestia’s chest. A thrum rang in Blueblood’s eardrums. “Auntie! Get up! Get up!”

The thrum paused. The energy died down. Several ponies slumped to the ground. Cadence’s legs shook as she cut off her own magic flow.

Blueblood pulled away from Fleur and ran to his aunt’s side. She shimmered with the magic shining from her fairy strings. “Auntie Celestia? Can you hear—?”

He was thrown back by an earth-shaking blast. The courtyard blazed with fire.

He lay on his back, his coat singed and his mane blackened with soot. He rolled onto his side, but a sharp pain in his leg sent him falling backwards. The flames licked at his tail, the heat burned his skin, and the light stabbed his pained skull.

Cadence held a hoof to her face. The burning, crackling courtyard was hot, but the temperature was dropping. The fire was dying. She moved through the flames and past the motionless Crystal Heart to reach her cousin’s side. She reached out a hoof and pulled him up. Their eyes met.

Cadence lowered her muzzle. “I’m sorry.”

Blueblood buried his head in her chest. The cousins hugged each other tight, smoke flowing around their bodies.

“My little ponies, why are you crying?”

The breath caught in Blueblood’s throat. The last of the flames in the courtyard had died down, but it was still filled with sunlit magic. A tall pony walked towards them, her wings outstretched, her white coat glistening.

“A…” Cadence rubbed ash from her eyes. “A pony very dear to us—we thought you were—is it really you?”

As the seconds ticked past, the mare’s coat grew a little paler, a shade dimmer. Her bright, purple eyes twinkled. “I hope so; otherwise it’s going to be really awkward when I start getting ‘get well soon’ cards.”

***

Caution’s heavy hoof crashed into the paved road, sending hairline cracks running across its surface where Shining Armor’s head had been. The prince jabbed at the traitor’s side, but he shrugged off every blow. They circled, each seeking an opening.

“Dad!” Amore screeched. “Duck!”

Shining moved underneath a powerful, metal-shod hoof. He jabbed upwards, catching Caution across the chin.

“Use a right hook, dad!” Silver said. “Hit his blind spot!”

“He’s gonna be expecting that now!” Shining Armor kicked his back legs out and knocked Caution against the bubble. He swung the javelin, but the earth pony caught it in his mouth. A powerful bite snapped the weapon in half.

Shining Armor jumped away. He spoke out of the side of his mouth. “Any suggestions, guys?”

“Don’t let him hit you!” Twilight Amore piped up.

“And hit him really, really hard!” Silver Lance added.

Shining Armor cracked a smile. “I’m proud of you guys.”

The prince spun away before Caution’s punch could reach him. It sent ripples running across the surface of the bubble. “For the love of pony, Armor!” Caution tromped after his opponent. “Stand tall an’ fight like a stallion!”

“If you were a smart guy,” Shining Armor said, hopping from hoof to hoof, “you’d have realized several things.”

Caution lunged shoulder-first. Shining rolled alongside him and shoved him away.

“One.” Shining Armor kicked Caution’s bad eye. “A real stallion thinks about why he’s fighting and who he’s fighting.”

“Shut up!” Caution swung wide and hit thin air.

“Two.” Shining laid into the guard’s knee with a rapid-fire series of chops. “A real stallion thinks about where he’s fighting and uses that to his advantage.”

Silver Lance glanced away from the fight. He let out a whoop.

Caution snatched the sides of Shining’s head and lifted him onto his hind legs. “All you had to do was let me go. Nopony else needed to be hurt today, you unnerstand? ”

“Three,” Shining grunted. “A real stallion knows when he’s outmatched.”

A spell shot from the tip of the prince’s horn and struck the bubble of pink magic. It shattered, the shards raining down before evaporating into pixie dust. Caution threw Shining to the ground and spun on his rear hooves.

He found himself facing twenty loaded crossbows.

Shining Armor dusted off his uniform. He saluted the Royal Guardsponies surrounding the makeshift arena. “Four, a real stallion never has to fight alone.”

Caution glanced around for any sign of the Maid’s carriage. He only saw soldiers, deadly weapons, and stern faces. He scowled at the prince. “Yeah. Oi guess so.”

He unclipped his helmet and let the enchantment drain away. He lay down with his legs spread. “Oi surrender.”

Shining nodded to the guards. They charged in with cuffs and chains at the ready. Amore and Silver leaped onto his back, hugging his neck and cheering aloud. Shining rubbed their heads and kissed their cheeks, carrying them with ease.

Caution rested his chin on the pavement. “Oi’m sorry, Aria,” he whispered. “Oi ain’t givin’ up yet, though.”

***

Blueblood rushed up to Celestia and all but tackled her with a hug. He winced at the sharp pain in his leg, but he didn’t dare let go. “Auntie Celestia! You’re back!”

The iridescence in Celestia’s coat faded completely away, revealing her sunken cheeks and pale pink mane. She wrapped her forelegs around Blueblood and nuzzled his ears. “Yes, Blueblood. Thanks in large part to you.” She lifted her head and smiled at the ponies gathered around. “Thank you all!”

A cheer rose up to answer her. Ponies danced, sang, and shouted aloud. Several city-wide parties entered their planning stages.

Celestia let out a whoosh of breath and tottered. Cadence caught her in a firm grip. The High Princess of Equestria blink owlishly before shaking her head. “I don’t think I’m quite up to my usual strength.”

“Eyew need rest,” Summerwind said, fluttering up and wagging a hoof at her. “Get to bed thees very instant! We hev tests to run! Blood to sample! A heart to examine! Et’s… et’s noot every day somepony comes back froom the dead.”

Celestia frowned. She touched the scar on her chest, right over her heart. “Hurricane. Oh no.” She reached out to grasp Cadence’s wingtip. “I need to speak with Luna. Now.”

“We’ll get the radio set up.” Cadence lead her to the hospital bed and gently pushed her into it. “I get the feeling she really needs to hear from you right now. Along with all the other ponies in Equestria.”

Celestia wrinkled her forehead and rested against the pillow. As she was rolled back into the castle by armed guards, she let her ears fall back against her scalp. “Cadence, how long was I asleep?”

Cadence’s face fell. “About five weeks.”

Celestia pursed her lips. “Make the radio call a priority. We are all in grave danger once word of my condition gets out.”

“Why?” Cadence trotted after the rolling bed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that if my mother is still angry after all these years,” Celestia said, “she’s not going to stop until everything I love is dead.”

Cadence froze mid-step. “I think we both have a lot of explaining to do.”

“Yes,” Celestia sighed. She rubbed her scar, her face scrunching up with pain. “Oog. Yes we do.”

***

Blueblood leaned back against one of the four pillars holding the Crystal Palace in place. The Crystal Heart turned once more, though at a far slower pace. He clutched the darkened remains of his blue bowtie to his chest, ignoring the missing patches in his coat.

Fleur de Lis shuffled up to him. She blew her always-perfect mane away from her mouth. “I was right, you know.”

He let out a groan and lidded his eyes. “Right about what, exactly?”

“You can take charge, when the situation warrants it.” Fleur sat before him, her forelegs folded. “Or when nopony else thinks to take charge, at least.”

“Mm.” Blueblood shrugged. “Almost as well as Cadence did.”

Fleur rolled her head back, shutting her eyes. “Stop comparing yourself to—”

“I know.” Blueblood clicked his tongue. “I—I’m not her, and I never will be.”

He chuckled. “Still, we would have lost Auntie if I hadn’t dragged everypony into this. Perhaps I can make a contribution after all.”

“That’s right.” Fleur rubbed her leg. “That’s very right.”

Blueblood frowned at her. He tilted his head to the side. “I suppose everything’s right with the world, now that she’s okay.”

“I… I don’t know, Husband.” Fleur brushed a lock of mane behind her ear. “Did you see the way Celestia grabbed her chest? She’s still in so much pain… I hope—” She waved her foreleg. “Never mind. She’ll be fine, yes? Simply fine. I’m just—”

She grabbed his hooves and held them to her chest. “I’m just glad that you stepped up today. That was a very brave thing you did, saying ‘yes’ when everypony else was certain the answer was ‘no.’”

“Shining Armor called it ‘bullheadedness,’” Blueblood said. “And then he slapped my back, which I believe is code for ‘good job, buddy-boy.’”

Fleur giggled. She kissed his hoof. “I want you to remember this day. I want you to remember you aren’t useless. You have a higher calling, and there are some things only you can do.”

“Perhaps.” Blueblood swished his burnt tail back and forth. “Fleur… why are you doing this?”

“Hmm?”

“Why do you care so much that I take responsibility?” Blueblood shifted his foreleg in its sling. “We could live our lives comfortably until the end of time, and never lift a hoof. We don’t need to do any more than that.”

“No.” Fleur glanced at her hooves. Her knees shook. “But—but life without something to strive for becomes devoid of joy. There’s something… important I have to tell you.”

“I suppose it felt good to have contributed.” Blueblood wrinkled his nose. “Once I got over the pain in my leg. And the burns. And the general silliness of losing my composure in front of the populace. Other than that, it is so good to have Auntie back.”

He blinked, and flicked his ears downward. “B—but enough about me. You have something to share, and I should learn to stop interrupting. What is it?”

Fleur shifted where she sat, moving closer to him. She took a heavy breath, followed by another. “Our relationship has been… I believe ‘strained’ is the word for it, the past few years. I’d hoped that you taking responsibility might assist in that, but…”

She wrinkled her nose. “Oh, how do I say this without sounding like an idiot?”

“You are at least in good company in that regard.” Blueblood looped his good leg around her shoulders. “Steady on, my lovely wife. Be as blunt as you like and spare no detail.”

Fleur smirked as a blush spread across her cheeks. “Yes, there is the stallion I fell in love with. Unafraid of speaking his mind.”

“Happy to oblige.” He waved her on.

“I wanted to… I wanted our relationship restored. No more uncertainty. No more anxiety. No more cold nights and colder looks.” Fleur leaned against Blueblood. “Because I want our child to have strong, loving parents who will always be there for them.”

Blueblood’s mouth popped open. His eyes went wide as his pupils dilated. “You mean you’re—?”

Fleur nodded, her teeth showing through her tight-lipped smile.

Blueblood blinked. “And I’m going to be a—?”

“I found out just before you took Celestia and Twilight to the Crystal Empire.” She touched his chest. “I came here to tell you, but things kept getting in the way and I thought—”

Blueblood brought her close for a deep, long, breathless kiss. He ran his hoof up and down her back as she looped her forelegs around his neck.

When the time finally came for their lips to part, Blueblood let out a quiet laugh. “S-seems I’m crying tears of all sorts today. Fleur, I can barely believe it.”

“I can.” Fleur gave him a peck on the tip of his nose. “I’m starting to get cravings for pumpernickel, and I despise pumpernickel.”

Blueblood let his head thump against the pillar. He held his wife close as the Crystal Heart shimmered in the deepening night.

She shut her eyes and sighed. “I was so afraid of this moment.”

“I’m sorry,” Blueblood said. “That was my fault.”

“Half your fault. I was just as much to blame.” She traced her hoof around a bare patch in his coat. “I didn’t love you like I should.”

“I resolve to change that now.” Blueblood stomped a hoof. He winced. “Ow. I resolve to be a loving husband and father. For both our sakes.” He placed his foreleg against her stomach. “And the little one’s.”

She brought her lips close to his. “I love you, Prince Blueblood.”

“I love you, too, Princess Fleur de Lis.”

Broken

“Haven’t you reached the Crystal Empire yet?”

The radio operator shied away from Princess Luna’s shout. He opted to wiggle a knob around just to look as though he was actually doing something useful. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but there are several connections we need to make between here and the Frozen North. It could still be several minutes before we get a return message.”

“What good are radios?” Luna snapped. She spun away with a flick of her wings. “If I sent a letter via Pony Express Mail, I would at least have something tangible to track.”

The communications center of Canterlot Castle was a complex network of wires, switchboards, mailboxes, and stressed-out ponies. Even the most ornate decorative pillars couldn’t soften the electric tension that was infused into the daily life of an operator. Ponies didn’t like to hear that their message hadn’t already been delivered.

Luna leaned over his shoulder, her voice barely a whisper. “Not a peep? Anything?”

The radio operator clenched his diaphragm. “No.”

“I would have more luck sending it via dragonfire from a hibernating beast!” Luna’s stomp rattled the nearby desks. “What does it take for ponies to understand that my sister is in danger?”

The radio operator let out a dizzying sigh as his board made a little beep. “Thank the Maker, it’s an answer—”

Luna pushed his rolling chair away, sending him careening across the room. She stuffed the headphones over her ears and tapped the control panel. “Hello, operator? Operator? Give me Princess Mi Amore Cadenza of the Crystal Empire! Operator? Operator, can you hear me? This is your High Princess Luna speaking! Operator, give me—”

“Luna,” a laughing voice on the other side said, “chill.”

Luna’s wings drooped. She glared at the radio as if the other pony could see her. “I am none too fond of the informal tone which you are using, operator. I would speak with your supervisor if I were not pressed for time—”

“Luna, listen. To me. Listen to me.”

Luna huffed. “You have thirty seconds before I drop a moon on your desk—”

“Wake up and see the rising morning light…”

Luna opened her mouth to retort, but stopped short. She raised the volume of her headphones.

“It stands so tall, a symbol of our might…”

Luna briefly muted her microphone and shooed the radio operator away. He lowered his eyebrows, walking off to look into another operator’s station.

“Freedom from the chains of evildoers is our right
And so we wake and see the rising morning light”

Luna wiped her eyes. Her mouth turned upwards as she sang softly in return.

Luna fell to her haunches and shut her eyes, her muscles relaxing from her shoulders to her hooves. “Is it really you, sister?”

“I’m here, Luna. I’m awake.” Celestia’s voice crackled as the signal weakened momentarily. “I love you.”

“I love you so much, Celestia.” Luna rested her forelegs against the desk. She laughed lightly and blinked away the residual tears on her eyelashes. “How is this possible? Has the new heart come already? Is the surgery that much of a success?”

“That…” Celestia paused. “That is a long story, Luna. Many things have happened, and many more things must happen before we can call this trial over with. There are things you must know about Hurricane—”

“I know about Hurricane,” Luna said. “I know about who she is. I know who she is to us. And it is not important right now. What is important is that you are well.”

“It isn’t that simple, my beloved sister.” Celestia’s voice warbled. Luna couldn’t tell if it was from signal loss or her sister’s voice. “I am not well. Not at all. And none of us is safe as long as Hurricane still waits in the shadows.”

“I know.” Luna paced away from the desk. Her head jerked back when she reached the end of her headset’s wire. She glared at the offending device. “I have assembled a team to deal with her.”

“And?”

“And…” Luna wrinkled her snout. “They have been dealt a significant blow—several of them, actually—but I feel they can persevere.”

“I don’t want any more people to die.”

“Nor do I.” Luna rubbed her scalp, pushing her headphones back. “That is why Twilight Sparkle and Twilight Velvet selected only the best.”

“I would like a complete list. If only so I know who to root for.” Celestia’s electronic sigh tickled Luna’s ears. “I’m afraid all the news I have is bad.”

“We should compare bad news to bad news.” Luna rubbed her chin. “Together, maybe they add up to good news. Two negatives multiplied equal a positive, after all.”

“You hate math humor.”

“And you hate it when I stoop to your level.” Luna grinned. “You first.”

“Blueblood, Cadence, and the Crystal Empire saved me from a second assassination. They activated the Crystal Heart and infused my fairy strings with some much-needed magic energy.”

Luna’s tail swished as the stress returned to her back. “That… could have blown you apart.”

“And yet, here I am.” Celestia faked a chuckle. “But as much as it saved my life, it’s not quite enough.”

Luna gritted her teeth. She flapped her wings, rustling loose a few blue feathers. “Alright. Spit it out. What ails you?”

“You’ve heard about Twilight’s condition, haven’t you? How her vocal cords—”

“Scarred over.” Luna glanced at the other ponies in the room. She narrowed her eyes and tilted her horn towards the door. Ten seconds later, she was alone in the communications center. “Rendering her mute.”

“Luna… Hurricane cut my heart in half. The magic and the ambrosia have brought those halves together, but there’s too much scar tissue for it to pump blood properly. There’s nothing there to metabolize magic. It’s a lump of flesh, doing nopony any good.”

Luna nodded, before she remembered Celestia couldn’t see her. “You still need the transplant, or you will die.”

“Yes.” Celestia grunted. Sounds of fabric shifting rumbled across the radio waves. “And I have not even given you the worst of it, yet.”

“Let not your hoof be stayed.”

“Hurricane is no mere freedom fighter.” Celestia took a calming breath in through her nose. “She is insane. She has lost any shred of hope and love. She is not the mare who raised us—”

“Actually, I believe she is.” Luna sneered. “A rather more chilling possibility, if given thought. She always thought me her mistake—”

“She is broken, Luna,” Celestia’s voice hissed. “She has had everything she loves taken away from her, and has decided to blame it on us. She has somehow convinced herself that if we were eradicated, it would undo the evil she’s done. She will do anything it takes to see us destroyed. She will hurt anypony to see us hurt.”

Luna cocked an ear, and regretted it when it folded up beneath the headphones. She adjusted them with a wince. “You seem intimately aware of Hurricane’s motivations.”

“Clover the Clever and I had an extended conversation after Hurricane was banished.”

Luna stood up, her back straight and her tail still. “Banished, you say. Not lost to time. Not disappeared. Banished. It was intentional.”

“She was going to kill Starswirl, Luna.” Celestia whispered into her mic. “She had a knife to his throat. Clover saved him, but she didn’t want to see another friend fall. She trapped Hurricane inside an unexplored pocket between the universes, connected by one of Starswirl’s prototype mirrors.”

Luna stared at the radio. She brought a hoof to her forehead and rubbed just beneath her horn. “And then what?”

“Then they left her there, raging and ranting, trying to smash her way through the glass but being unable to touch it.” Celestia’s voice caught. “For over a thousand years.”

“The millennia have been unkind.” Luna levitated a cup of coffee from a nearby desk and took a swig. She left a bit as payment. “How could she have gotten out?”

“Only through outside intervention. Only if someone tampered with the mirror. Only if somebody wanted to let her loose upon Equestria.”

“We know that she does not work alone.” Luna scribbled herself a few notes on the radio operator’s daily log. “They have been known to utilize powerful mind-control magic—strong enough to cause comrades to murder each other. They are also not merely a band of ponies, but have at least one griffon co-conspirator. King Andean was furious when he discovered the treachery—”

Celestia’s voice came low and hot. “What does Andean have to do with any of this?”

Luna wrinkled her forehead. “He is here, visiting. He arrived just before Hurricane’s attack on Twilight. He has offered his services—”

“And you trust him why?”

“Because I have seen him at both his worst and his best.” Luna bobbed her head. “By his own word, he has offered to help, and help he has. We have helped each other. If you do not trust him, then trust me.”

“I—you…” Celestia grunted. “Fine. Forget Andean. Do we have suspects as to who would want to free Hurricane?”

“A list a mile long.” Luna held the operator’s log aloft in a shimmering blue glow. “Even when ’tis narrowed by those who would stoop to mind control magic. Ahuizotl, Chrysalis the Second, perhaps the Saddle Arabians—We have no shortage of rogues in our gallery. We… also have evidence that Viscount Dulcimer is heavily involved.”

“Hammie?” Celestia gasped.

Luna scrunched her mouth to the side. “What?”

“Hammie. Hammer Dulcimer. He’s a childhood friend of both Twilight and Blueblood.” Celestia moaned deep and long. “Are you sure?”

“Chief Twilight Velvet has been investigating him for months.” Luna wrinkled her muzzle. “You are going to make me tell them.”

Celestia’s breath caught. “Well… Twilight’s been through a lot. So has Blueblood—”

“You cannot be suggesting we keep this a secret.” Luna scoffed. “No. I shall break it to Twilight when she arrives, and I suggest you tell Blueblood the instant you get out of surgery.”

“Alright. Alright. What a world to wake up to.” Celestia hummed a wordless murmur. “So what’s our next plan? Do we have a next plan?”

“We have several things to do…” Luna folded the log beneath her wing. “I shall meet with the Knights of Harmony, exchange information and discuss what avenues of pursuit are open to us. I shall see to it that Cloudsdale and Canterlot’s guardponies are in sync. And… there is something that you can help with.”

“Even from over here?” Celestia asked. “Even in my condition?”

“Yes. I had a thought inspired by Twilight Sparkle. When you were first cast down, we conspired to cover up the extent of your injuries. However, now I would say it is time for you, personally, to downplay them something fierce.”

Celestia snorted. “A public address? Luna, that’s not—”

“It is exactly what this country needs.” Luna pressed her lips together in a tight smile. “Your little ponies deserve to know that you are alright.”

“But I’m not—”

“But you are. Far more-so than before.” Luna frowned as she shook her head. “They rioted when they found out about your injuries. Imagine the good that will come from an actual good report.”

“You sound like you know what you’re talking about.” Celestia clicked her tongue. “Very well, I’ll bow to your wishes. You’ve kept the kingdom afloat thus far…”

Luna lowered her voice. “I must say, I can’t imagine handling this sort of thing for as long as you did. Ruling solo. It is a nightmare in itself.”

Celestia breathed deep, causing her mic to hiss. “I don’t know that I’ve actually ever told this to you… I’m proud of you, Luna. I’m so very proud of the mare you’ve become.”

Luna’s wide grin got in the way of her words. “I, too, am proud of my sister. Shall we save the kingdom together, yet again?”

“That sounds like a fantastic idea.”

***

Time Turner sat up in the hospital bed. Dinky Doo grasped his shoulder and pressed him back. “Hay,” she said, “you need to relax.”

“I’m perfectly fine, Dinky.” Time shook his head. He adjusted his hospital gown with his teeth. “I just want to be presentable for the guests.”

Dinky rolled her eyes. The young mare trotted over to a pony-sized radio she’d hauled into the hospital room. “No, you want to be handsome for Dr. Yearling. Trust me when I say that is what you want.”

“I’d still put ‘presentable’ at a close second.” Time Turner reached for a glass of water. “When did you say your mother was com—?” When his hoof didn’t reach, he looked down. He wiggled the stump that remained of his right foreleg. “Whickering stallions.”

“She’s coming after her shift ends.” Dinky glanced over her shoulder. “You okay?”

“The blasted thing still itches. There’s nothing to itch.” Time rested his head against the pillow. “Would you be a dear and give me something to drink?”

She grasped the glass from across the room, her horn shimmering. She tilted it close to his lips. “So, hay, we have time before they get here. Wanna see it?”

Time gulped the cool water down. “Oh, of course. Bring it out.”

Dinky hopped up to the saddlebags she left by the door. A golden flash of magic pulled a small, four-legged object out. She carried it to his side, her smile hidden behind a nibbled lip. “What do you think? Does it look right?”

She set a hoof-sized metal pony on his side table. It was plated with gold, with carved indented lines tracing around its curves and corners. It clicked as Dinky wound the key on its back.

The clockwork pony trotted happily across the table. It stopped at the edge, bent its head forward, and then turned to a new direction. It continued to wander around the table until its internal spring had wound down.

“It’s absolutely beautiful, Dinky.” Time Turner grinned and patted her shoulder. “Better than I could have hoped. The movements are spot-on. You really do have a talent for this sort of thing.”

“And you don’t?” Dinky giggled. “You already did most of the work. The gyroscope is your design.”

“But I could never get it to work quite right.” Time flicked his eyes to the door. “Aha. Would you let our guests in?”

“Sure!” Dinky practically flew across the room to yank the door open, her lengthy legs moving in a whir. She pulled the door open and took a bow. “Welcome, one and all, to this evening’s listening of Princess Luna’s address to Equestria.”

Daring Do and Care Carrot bowed in return, Daring stifling a laugh. “We thank thee for this most illustrious invitation,” Daring said, “to this most noble and venerated hospital room. Truly art we humbled and humiliated.” She brushed past Dinky to give Time a warm hug.

“Thanks, Dinky,” Care said. “It’s really nice of you to set this up.”

“It was all Mr. Turner’s idea. I just acted as his hooves and mouth.” Dinky smiled wide. “Word on the street is that tonight’s speech is going to be the biggest news since Twilight ascended.”

“Yeah, I can only hope so.” Care lowered her ears. “It’ll be great to have some good news. Finally.”

“If th-there isn’t any good news,” a shaky voice from behind said, “then at l-least there’ll be good snacks.”

Blankety Blank shuffled into the room with a bag of caramel corn tied around his middle. His milky-white exoskeleton was already beginning to harden to a firm black. “Are we waiting f-for the speech to start, or—”

“Heck with waiting, give it here!” Daring Do thrust her hooves in the air. “Gimme some of that delicious, delicious Sugarcube Corner goodness!”

Time Turner looked the changeling up and down. “How on earth did you go shopping in town without causing a panic?”

“A l-long cloak, a l-lot of face paint, and a lot of help from C-Care.” Blankety gave Time a fang-filled smile. “Disguise just comes naturally.”

Care passed out bowls, which Blank filled and passed to the others. She bumped his shoulder. “How long until your shell hardens enough to start training?”

“G-give it a week.” He popped a kernel into his mouth. “Daring said she’d be ready to join us by then.”

“Yeah, and I’m gonna whoop both your butts.” Daring gave them a fierce grin. “Then, I’m gonna whoop you-know-who’s butt. It’s all nice and cyclic like that.”

Time Turner nudged the clockwork pony across the table. He smirked. “And so the violence continues, a hoof for a hoof, and a tail for a mane.”

“Don’t worry,” Daring said. “I’ll pay her back twice what she took.”

Care raised an eyebrow. “Feeling a little vengeful?”

“Call it righteous fury, Cap.” Daring waved a wing at Blankety. “Yo, poulain, more chow, please.”

A thump at the door drew Dinky running. She swung it open to admit Twilight Velvet, who was pushing Night Light’s wheelchair. “I told you we’d be late,” Velvet said.

“I wasn’t the one pushing the chair, beloved.”

“No, but you were the one who insisted on styling his mane.”

“Yes, but I wasn’t the one putting on five gallons of makeup.”

“Cover-up.” Velvet pointed at the darkened flesh around one eye. “I needed to. Unless you like having a wife who looks like she got into a bar brawl and lost?”

Night Light flashed his teeth. “I admit it does give me feelings I cannot quite comprehend.”

“Save the domestic stuff for later, guys.” Daring Do wrapped her foreleg around Velvet’s shoulder and dragged her towards a set of chairs placed around Time’s bed. “This here’s where the action is. Ten minutes from now, we’ll be able to hear exactly what Luna has to say.”

Care settled down in a cushy seat. “Color me cautiously optimistic.”

***

Merry Mare sat in the back corner of the bar, nursing a nonalcoholic cider. Her wide-brimmed sunhat lay lightly upon her brow, more for looks than protection in the shadowy booth. The normally-rowdy bar was muted, hushed conversations floating around in light of the announcement that Luna would be giving a speech.

Merry met Scuttlebutt’s eyes and gestured him closer. He moved into the seat across from hers and smiled that cheese-eating grin of his. “Everything’s in place,” he said. “We have one-hundred pegasi ready to strike from Cloudsdale, and a hundred each of unicorns and earth ponies in Canterlot. At your command.”

“Good.” Merry let her eyes drift over to the radio the bar’s owner was tuning. “It’s nice that Luna decided to reveal her madness on live radio; it allows us to act immediately. Is there any word on Hurricane?”

“She still hasn’t been heard from.” Scuttlebutt cracked his neck. “Lanner tracked her to Cloudsdale, but it’s going to take time to narrow the search. What happens if she interferes?”

“We cut her down alongside anypony else who gets in our way.” Merry crossed her hooves beneath her chin. “If she decides to help, though, I won’t complain.”

“I suspected not.” Scuttlebutt fidgeted with his hooves. “I should probably get back to—”

“Do you enjoy working with us, Scuttlebutt?” Merry leaned her head closer.

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

“Do you enjoy working with the sirens, the Unseelie Courts, the future ruler of Equestria?” Merry shrugged. “It’s a simple enough question.”

Scuttlebutt tried to clear his throat, but it only became scratchier. “I’ll admit that I eat far more often than I did in Beefland.”

Merry looked at him over her spectacles. “Is that all that motivates you? Food?”

“Aren’t we all hungry for something?” Scuttlebutt let out a half-hearted giggle, which faded to heavy silence. “I’ll say I like it better than the alternative…”

“Which is?”

“You leaving me a dead lump of plasticized flesh at the bottom of the ocean.” He narrowed his eyes. “I am wise enough to know that if I sit on the giant’s shoulder, they can stomp as many towns as they wish, but will never hurt me.”

Merry pulled her glasses off. She folded them and gently set them on the table. “I am not here to stomp towns.”

“You’ll be breaking more than eggs to make this omelet.” Scuttlebutt stretched out the skin on his foreleg, then let it snap back in place. “Will there be anything else, my lady?”

“No.” Merry Mare leaned back in her booth and smiled. “We’ve begun.”

The radio crackled to life. “The Ewe News studio crew is live at the castle, where Princess Luna is about to make her address to the country. Everypony waits with bated—Here she is!”

The bar fell completely silent as the patrons took in the first words from Luna’s mouth. Merry took a quick headcount of known associates. Not many, she decided. Only herself, Scuttlebutt, the owner, and a couple others. Most were ponies from Ponyville, simply awaiting the word of their younger High Princess.

Merry shut her eyes and rested her forehead in her hooves, mulling over her response to Luna’s speech.

“My Little Ponies,” Luna said, “the past month has been a time of trial and tribulation. All know of the great tragedy of Celestia’s injuries, and the subsequent attacks on Blueblood and Twilight Sparkle. We have been strong in the face of this adversity. We have stood against the forces that would see Equestria turned on its head. We have fought, we have been hurt, and we have gotten back up.”

Merry wrinkled her forehead. She hissed a single word, and carried it to Scuttlebutt’s ears via a quick spell from her yellow siren’s sigil. “Scuttlebutt.”

He was at her side in a whoosh of air. “Yes?”

“What were Hurricane’s exact words when she said Luna had succumbed to the nightmare?”

“This challenge, this battle, is not yet over,” Luna continued. “But all our fighting has not been for nothing. We have hope, my little ponies. It is not the hope of tomorrow, or the memory of yesterday. Our hope is for today. It is of today.”

Scuttlebutt’s throat bobbed. “She said that the princess fell… to fear and hatred.”

Merry clenched her teeth. “You know this battle will be far more difficult if Luna is sane, do you not?”

“Y-yes.”

“Not impossible, but more difficult.” She rubbed her brow. “Inform the commanders that—”

“It is my unspeakable pleasure and impossible delight,” Luna shouted, “to present to you the return of my sister, High Princess Celestia of Equestria!”

Merry Mare’s eyes popped. Scuttlebutt’s jaw dropped.

“I see that I have rendered you speechless,” Luna laughed. “Perhaps I should remind you that applause is most definitely appropriate. Do you agree, Celestia?”

“Absolutely, Luna,” a second voice said through the radio’s speaker. “I might clap a little bit, myself.”

The deafening cheer that rocked the bar drowned out Merry Mare’s violent scream.

***

Daring Do snapped out of her stupor first. She leaped as high as her legs would carry her. “Oh, moldy rutting horseapples, yes!”

Time Turner found himself the recipient of two hugs as Daring got him from one side and Dinky came from the other. He couldn’t help but chuckle at Dinky’s high-pitched squeal.

Care slumped forward, her mouth hanging open, the edge of which was tilted upward. She heard Blankety Blank at her side, trying to stifle his sniffles and tears.

“My little ponies, I want you to know that I am indeed alive. I am awake. I am most assuredly recovering from my injuries. I cannot say where I am speaking from, only that I shall return to Canterlot as soon as possible.”

Twilight Velvet and Night Light leaned into a passionate kiss, barely able to keep from laughing.

Celestia’s voice crackled. “I must give my thanks to those who defended me and fought in my stead these past few weeks. You ponies inspire me towards greater things. You have always inspired me. Without you, none of this would be possible. None of it. I owe everything to you, my friends.”

“Sh-she’s talking to you, you know,” Blank whispered to Care.

“She’s talking to you, too.” Care gave him a wink. “All of us.”

“You got that right!!” Daring yelped.

“To everyone, I have this message to give: Fight!” Celestia’s voice grew louder and faster. “Fight for Equestria. Fight for our friends and our families. Fight the oppression that these assassins, these destroyers, are trying to pull over our country. We are pressed, but not crushed! We are persecuted, but not abandoned! We have been struck down, but we are not destroyed!”

Pride swelled in Care’s chest as Celestia finished her speech. “Together, my little ponies, there is nothing we cannot do.”

***

Merry Mare collapsed against the table, her throat raw. She slammed a hoof into the wood. “Scuttlebutt!”

The wight barely heard her over the celebration of the bar patrons. “My lady—?”

She gripped his neck and pulled his ear close to her mouth. He shivered as her hot breath tickled his mane. “Call off the attack,” she gasped. “Call it off immediately. Do it now!”

“But—” Scuttlebutt searched desperately for an exit. “Celestia’s not here. She isn’t even fully recovered. The battle will still—”

“Hurricane failed twice over!” Merry growled. “The plan won’t work if all four alicorns are alive and well!”

Her foreleg tightened around his neck. “They must be beaten. They must be broken if we are to take control! We can’t perform a successful coup on a returning hero, Scuttlebutt! The people will be with her. With all of them! I am not throwing away three-hundred good fighters in a lost war!”

She noticed a few eyes trailing her way. None with suspicion, but that could change in short order. “Tell the commanders to stand down. I shall inform the Master, the Maid, and the Crone.”

“W-what now?” Scuttlebutt gasped as she released him. “What do we do? We’ve been planning this for… for months…”

“We push the timetable back.” Merry gritted her teeth as she set her spectacles on her snout. “We regroup. We take stock of the new situation. When the time comes—”

She snarled and marched for the door. “—we create a plan that doesn’t include a has-been assassin from ancient history!”

***

Twilight Sparkle surprised the entire crew of the Sky’s Limit by performing a flying back-flip.

Rainbow Dash hovered beside her, pumping her forelegs at the radio. “In your face, freaky assassin lady! In! Your! Face!”

She was caught in a sudden hug by Twilight which almost knocked her out of the air. The two of them embraced, Rainbow laughing and Twilight smiling from ear to ear. They danced, cheek to cheek, flying around the airship with abandon.

Skyhook slumped against the captain’s seat, his bat-like wings slack against his sides. “Oh, thank the Creator, something finally went right.”

The radio operator raised a hoof to signal the bat-pony commander. He fluttered his way over. “Yes?”

“We got an incoming call from the Crystal Empire,” the operator said. “It’s for Princess Twilight.”

Skyhook nodded and trailed after the twirling mares. He stretched to tap Twilight on the shoulder, but kept having to circle around as she swung out of reach. With a burst of speed, he snagged her attention.

“Radio’s for you,” he said. “From the Crystal Empire.”

Twilight nodded and made way for the communications station. She slipped on the headset.

“Hello, my most faithful friend.”

Twilight gasped. A faint sting touched the corners of her eyes. “Celestia?” she mouthed, unable to voice the words aloud.

“I wish we could talk face-to-face, but I had to speak with you as soon as I could.” Celestia let out a low, bouncing laugh. “I wanted you to know that I wasn’t just spouting nonsense. I am going to be fine. I also wanted you to know the truth, though. I wanted you to know that I am about to go into surgery.”

The breath caught in Twilight’s throat.

“Dr. Summerwind is one of the finest surgeons in the Allied Kingdoms. I have no doubt that the operation will finish with complete success.” Celestia’s voice grew a touch quieter. “But a prayer or two would help.”

Twilight nodded, pursing her lips.

“I love you, my friend,” Celestia said. “I look forward to the day we can laugh together again.”

Rainbow Dash floated overhead as Twilight hung up. “Good news, Twi?”

Twilight Sparkle smiled and rubbed her damp cheeks. She scribbled a quick message on Rainbow’s notepad. The best.

***

The only light in Spike’s room came from the radio on his nightstand. He touched the top of the device tenderly, afraid that a single twitch could turn it to dust.

He was similarly afraid that the news he had just received could crumble at any second.

A hoof rapped at his door. “Spike! Spike, didja hear the news?”

His ears perked up at Apple Bloom’s familiar voice. She was followed closely by Rumble. “Hay, dude, Celestia’s alright! She’s back on her feet! We’re all heading out to celebrate. Wanna join us?”

Spike’s hands shook. He clasped them together, causing the shiver to run up his arms. “N-no—Some other time, guys. I’m… I have something to do.”

“What?” Apple Bloom said. “Anythin’ we can help with?”

“No!” Spike snapped his mouth shut. “No thank you. I just… It’s something I have to do alone.”

The other side of the door was quiet. After a moment, a hoof slid against the frame. “If you need somepony to talk to,” Rumble said, “we’re here. You know that, right?”

“Yes.” Spike brought his blanket up around his shoulders. “I know. Thank you. Please go.”

He waited until the sound of their hooves faded down the hallway. He rose from his bed and made his way to the closet. It was fairly sparse, with only a few comic books and winter clothes contained inside. His writing utensils were usually kept in the bag around his neck, and anything else he might need was scattered throughout the castle.

He reached up to the highest shelf and pulled down a haversack. The comic books went in first, followed by the winter clothes. He folded his bedding into another pocket and set his pillow on top. He looped the straps around his arms and hefted it.

The latch to his door sounded loud in the empty hallway. He skittered on all four legs, moving quickly through the chilling castle. Autumn was almost over, making way for the bitter cold of winter; a cold that didn’t especially mix well with dragons.

He paused when he heard the echo of his friends’ voices. Apple Bloom’s mouth ran a mile a minute. “There’s gotta be somethin’ we can do, Rumble! Ah ain’t ever seen him like this. It ain’t right! Spike’s such a happy guy. He shouldn’t be locked up in his room like it’s a dungeon. There’s gotta be somethin’ we can do. Somethin’ we can say!”

“I don’t know what to say.” Rumble kept his voice low to counteract Apple Bloom’s rising pitch. “Spike’s a cool guy. He’ll be able to knock himself out of it sooner or later. Right?”

“Ah don’t know!” Apple Bloom gripped her pink bow and tugged. “Ah just… Ah just want him to be okay.”

“I’ll be fine.” Spike stepped around the corner. He raised a claw to steady his sack. “I just need some time alone.”

Apple Bloom covered her mouth. She fell to her haunches and kicked a hoof, her face bright-red. “You sure? ’Cause you can come to m… to us… We’re here for you.”

“Thank you.” Spike bowed his head. “I really need time to myself though. I’m moving back into the library.”

Rumble hovered a couple meters off the ground. “What? Why?”

“It’s smaller. And cozier. And there’s some…” Spike rubbed his snout. “I don’t want to think about this place. I need some new scenery.”

Rumble dropped down and reached a foreleg out to loop it around Spike’s shoulder. “I’m sure Thunderlane and Cloudkicker wouldn’t mind you crashing at our—”

Spike ducked under and around Rumble’s leg. He held his hands up to wave him away. “No, no. I’m fine. Thanks, but I’ll be fine.”

He looked between Rumble and Apple Bloom, one after the other, and shrugged. “I’ll be fine.”

Apple Bloom’s ears drooped alongside her head. She lifted a knee. “But you’re cryin’.”

Spike wiped his cheek. A boiling tear sizzled against his scaly hand. “It’s allergies. Or a cold. I’m—”

”Say you’re ‘fine’ one more time,” Rumble said with a half-hearted grin, “and I’m gonna decorate the library with toilet paper while you’re sleeping.”

Spike cracked a smile. It melted away when he saw Apple Bloom’s frown.

“Please don’t lie to me,” she whispered.

Spike lowered himself to all fours. He turned away. “I’ll see you guys.”

He all but ran out of the castle and into the town.

***

Hurricane stalked through the smog covering the world. The thick, gray soup stung her nose and clawed at her cheek. A flap of her wings called a gust of wind forth, but all it did was churn the clouds.

Her scar burned. It was as if the poison that had damaged her skin still burned its way through her veins, straight from the adder’s fangs. Thoughts of the attack brought images of Platinum to mind, but Hurricane forced them out. It did no good to think about past friendships, those relationships that had merely proved toxic. Caustic. Corrosive.

My little ponies, I want you to know that I am indeed alive. I am awake. I am most assuredly recovering from my injuries. I cannot say where I am speaking from, only that I shall return to Canterlot as soon as possible.

Hurricane snarled at the memory of Celestia’s words. She kicked at the fog, searching for something to hurt. Something to tear apart. Something to kill. “Celestia!”

“Yes?”

The fog closed in around Hurricane. She turned to the right and the left, searching for the source of the voice. “Who is there? Show thyself!”

The fog parted, creating a clean avenue to a white-coated alicorn mare: Celestia. She spread her wings and took a step closer. “I am here, Hurricane. Speak.”

Hurricane lifted a wing to shield her face. “Thou art an apparition. A conjuration of my own imagination. Thou canst not be real.”

“I am real. As real as I ever was.” Celestia drew closer to Hurricane, moving one step at a time. “I am here, inside your dream. I need to talk with you—”

Hurricane jumped back with a flutter of her wings. “I thought only Luna could dreamwalk.”

Celestia paused. She lowered her brow. “You would be surprised what you can learn in a thousand years… Mother.”

Hurricane’s mouth opened. She scraped her teeth against each other. “So… you know the truth.” Lowering her head, she stared at her hooves. “How long?”

“I always suspected… There was an ache in my heart.” Celestia hunched her shoulders. “I felt very much… that I was missing something. Something important. The pain was lessened around you. When you trained with me, and traveled with me, and fought at my side, I felt a bit more complete.” She chewed her tongue. “You, Platinum, Smart Cookie, and Clover were always my mothers, just as Puddinghead, Pansy, and Gregor were my fathers. We were a family.”

“Nay.” Hurricane spun around and marched away. “’Twas but a lie.”

Celestia shook her head as she trotted after her. “It wasn’t always one! Mistakes were made, yes. By everypony! We fell apart through the fault of no one being.”

“Celestia, I have lost more in my life than I care to think of.” Hurricane glared back. “My only hope, that I would one day be reunited, has faded. You have taken even that away from me. Pray tell, for what purpose do you haunt my nightmares?”

“I came to say that I forgive you.”

Hurricane stopped short. She jumped into the air and met Celestia’s eyes. “You dare—?”

“I forgive you for hurting me. I forgive you for hating me. I forgive you for lying to me.” Celestia fought to keep her face under control, but couldn’t stop her strained moan. “Oh, Hurricane. I forgive you. And I miss you. I’ve missed my mother all these thousand years. I’ve longed for the chance to speak to you just once.”

Hurricane sneered. “This changes nothing between us.”

Celestia’s muzzle dipped down. “I know.”

Hurricane raised an eyebrow.

Celestia brushed her pink mane to the side. “I know that it could never be. We can never be reunited. We could never be a family again. Though I can forgive you for what you did to me… you must still suffer the consequences of your actions.”

“The consequences of my actions,” Hurricane said, “will create a free Equestria—”

“Shut up!”

Hurricane jerked back from Celestia’s shout. She settled onto her four hooves with wide eyes.

Celestia kept her face firm. “You have murdered my personal guards, each one a hoof-picked friend. You have demolished an airship and murdered its crew. You have attacked and maimed my dearest friend in all the world. You have harried my sister at every turn. You have sent my kingdom into a panic. You have endangered my family, and the families of my most trusted companions. You have brutally injured people who have sworn to defend me.” The muscles in her mouth ached from the pressure in her jaw. “And can I swear any less to them?”

Hurricane’s voice shook. “I had friends, too, once. They are all dead. I no longer have the hope to one day reunite with them. I only have the present. I only have the cause; the cause that says every false alicorn will fall, and my mistakes shall be wiped off the face of the earth.”

Celestia shut her eyes. She stomped a hoof as hard as she could, sending tremors through the dreamscape. “Cadence and Twilight are not false alicorns, Hurricane.”

The commander’s ears lay against her scalp.

Princess Celestia drew herself up and opened her violet eyes. She bored into Hurricane with all the fire she could muster. “Mi Amore Cadenza… Twilight Sparkle… These two alicorn princesses ascended through the virtue they displayed, and the magic within their own hearts. No outside forces, no arcane rituals, no tampering inside the womb. They are two ascended natural alicorns.”

Hurricane stumbled back as Celestia pressed her snout against the commander’s. “You tried to slay one of the very alicorns you so desired to see, so very long ago. Do you not see the depths to which you’ve fallen? Do you not comprehend how much evil you have sown?”

Celestia grabbed Hurricane’s shoulders and shook her, her breath coming in shallow spurts. “Please, Mother, end this now! There doesn’t have to be any more death or destruction. There doesn’t have to be any more pain! Only you can stop this now, before any more lives are ended.”

Hurricane spread her wings and pushed Celestia away. She lifted herself off of the ground. “No.”

“Turn yourself in!” Celestia raised her hooves. “Stop fighting for your unrighteous cause! Do it for Platinum’s memory—!”

“I remember Platinum as the mare who told me I would never speak with her again!” Hurricane slammed her hooves into Celestia’s ribs. “And I remember you as the snot-nosed little brat who reminded me of my failures every single moment she was alive!”

Another kick sent Celestia onto her back. Hurricane landed with four feet on the princess’ stomach. “I shall murder your friends to a pony. I shall tear your kingdom out from under your hooves. I shall send your sister into a madness from which there is no return. I shall do it in full view of you, so that you can feel every twist of the knife. Then, only then, shall I plunge a second spear into your Creator-forsaken heart!”

She drew close to Celestia’s face, until they could feel each others’ hot breath. Hurricane turned up her lip. “Forgive that, Princess.”

Celestia glared at Hurricane as the fog swirled around them, stinging their eyes and tugging at their feathers. She contorted her face into a stiff grimace. “I love you, Mother.”

Her horn glowed a piercing white as her body faded to pure magic. “Goodbye.”

She exploded in a shower of sparks, leaving Hurricane alone in her own empty, poisonous dream.

Divinity

Time Turner sat in a wheelchair, rolling himself along with his remaining foreleg. The throne room of Ponyville’s castle sparkled with the fires of friendship burning deep in the crystal. The thrones lay empty, but ready. News had just reached him and his teammates that Twilight Sparkle intended to return to Equestria. Soon, the Bearers of the Elements would be reunited.

Time wasn’t sure if bringing them all so close together was a good thing. Proximity made them a potentially tantalizing target for assassins. One in particular.

“But it wouldn’t do to keep them apart,” he muttered.

“What’s that?” Care Carrot poked her head around a throne. “Were you talking to me?”

“Not really.” Time rolled to a stop. “I was thinking aloud about Sparkle’s return. She’s already been the victim of one attack…”

Care shrugged. “You lost a leg, but that hasn’t stopped you.”

“Point.” Time leaned on his hoof. “But if I fall in battle, then Ponyville is less one citizen, and my friends will mourn.” He flared his nostrils. “If an Element Bearer falls in battle, there are far more dire consequences to consider.”

He rolled up beside the Map and tapped his hoof against it. Manehattan flickered. “Princess Celestia’s loss was tragic, but her duties could, in time, be taken over by others. Unicorns can raise the sun, Princess Luna can handle matters of state, etcetera. If one of the Bearers of the Elements of Harmony falls, they cannot be replaced. And since it takes all six of them to activate the magic…”

He settled back. “Princess Celestia waited one-thousand years for a new set of chosen ones. I’m not keen on Equestria waiting another thousand for the new batch.”

Care frowned. She rubbed her chin as she consulted the Map. She scribbled down Cloudsdale’s position on a notepad. “So what you’re saying is that we should make their protection a priority?”

“It’s something I was going to bring up in our meeting.” Time tilted his head to the left and then to the right. “I was hoping to have an outside opinion, either for or against.”

“I think you’re on to something…” Care stuffed the notepad into her saddlebags. “But I also know that if our enemies just wanted the Elements inoperative, they could have just snuck into Lady Fluttershy’s cottage and slid a blade between her ribs.”

Time smirked, quirking an eyebrow. “After getting past her army of vicious, loving animal friends? I think she even has a vampiric jackalope in her arsenal, never mind the full-grown female bear.”

“Okay, point.” Care started walking towards the elevator, with Time following along behind her. “But there’s still easier targets to go after than Princess Twilight. The Element Bearers aren’t in immediate trouble as a whole. Our enemies have it out for alicorns specifically.”

“So I think we should spend extra care planning Princess Twilight’s security.” Time spun his chair around and settled against the elevator’s railing. “Whatever long game the assassins are playing, it focuses on taking her out. And that’s something we really can’t afford to let happen.”

Care watched the numbers over the doorway climb to the Library floor. “I agree for the most part. What did you have in mind?”

“Round-the-clock guards, naturally.” Time Turner jolted as the elevator came to a stop. “Perhaps with a few Knights of Harmony, while the rest of us search for Hurricane.”

“Split up?” Care cringed. “That always works.”

“Sarcasm doesn’t become you, Captain.”

“Yes it does.”

They traveled through the hallways to the library itself. A protective sheet lay over the destroyed window, and the other debris had been cleared from the floor. Daring Do and Velvet sat around a wooden table, going over the remaining documents they’d collected from the locked archives.

Blankety Blank’s shell was once again pure black, though his horn hadn’t regrown fully. He stared up with wide, multifaceted eyes.

Andean Ursagryph glared with one eye at the comparatively tiny changeling.

Care bowed her head. “Your Grace.”

Andean clutched a volleygun tight to his chest. He gave her a terse nod. “Captain Carrot. Princess Luna said she and Stonewall would join us momentarily.”

Time Turner pulled his wheelchair beside the table and rested his head against the back of the seat. He wrinkled his brow. “How is your daughter? Is she well?”

Andean gave him a double-take. He clicked his beak before answering. “She is well. She is yet recovering, but gaining strength daily. It should only be a month before she has the strength to return home.”

“Excellent.” Time smiled. “Nice to know not everything is bleak in this twisted world we live in.”

“I coulda told you that,” Daring said. She held a book up to the light before tossing it back onto the pile. “There’s just one too many cool things to dismiss it completely. Me, for example. Another thing is—” She tapped a small notebook, dog-eared with age. “—having the occasion to say ‘eureka.’”

Andean’s head snapped up. “What have you found?”

“Nothing concrete.” Daring raised her hooves. “But it’s a really good something. You’ve heard the saying ‘a dog returns to its own vomit’?”

“Th-that’s nasty,” Blankety said.

“It’s true though, for a lot of things.” Daring patted Twilight Velvet on the shoulder. “It’s like my buddy here always says, ‘The perpetrator always returns to the scene of the crime.’”

“I’ve never said that,” Velvet muttered.

“Whatever.” Daring Do flipped through the book and traced her hoof across the lines. “We all know that Hurricane founded Cloudsdale—”

“I didn’t know that,” Andean said.

“—and we also know that Cloudsdale is an ever-growing, ever-changing landscape.” Daring grinned. “Except for one part.”

She turned to Care and waved her forward. “You have that map I asked for?”

“Close enough.” Care dug through her saddlebags. “You sure you don’t want to wait for Princess Luna?”

“I would not worry about that, Captain.”

Princess Luna entered the library with long strides. Stonewall flew close behind her, just over her shoulder. The princess folded her legs beneath her torso and nodded her head. “I apologize for the lateness. Princess Twilight is set to arrive in one day.”

“Then let’s make this quick.” Daring Do used her wings to spread Care’s map out. “Cloudsdale, when seen from the side, it a chaotic cloudbank. But when seen from above…”

Cloudsdale spiraled outward, a sea of cloudstuff and rainbows. It turned on an axis, swirling towards the center. At the center of the city-state was a plain, open, empty circle.

“A hurricane,” Time Turner said. “I think I’m going to be ill.”

“Not quite a hurricane, but it’s got the shape for it.” Daring Do pointed a feather at the center of the map. “The middle of the city, the Eye, is the only part of the city that isn’t constantly churning and changing. It’s been the same since the old days. The really, really dang old days.”

Blankety Blank leaned over Care’s shoulder. “It’s k-kinda a slum, now, isn’t it?”

“It’s not a nice neighborhood, if that’s what you’re asking.” Daring Do leafed through the notebook to a particular bookmark. “This is Hurricane’s personal planner, circa two years After Unification. It has her address. The address still exists.”

Time Turner’s eyes widened. “When you’ve been gone a long time, the first instinct is to—”

“Get home.” Care Carrot leaned on her front legs. “She’s been there. She might have left a trail that begins at her old home. She might even go back there occasionally.”

“Don’t get too excited,” Velvet said. “It’s just a hunch, and barely a clue. It’s still a good hunch, but…”

“It merits investigation.” Luna bobbed her head. “I suggest you go to Cloudsdale at the first opportunity. I will have mages standing by to enchant you with a cloudwalking spell for those who need it.”

Time Turner sucked on his lips. “If I may, Your Majesty?”

Luna’s mouth twitched. “You may.”

He sighed. “I have some concerns regarding the security of Princess Twilight Sparkle.”

“You needn’t be concerned, Specialist Turner.” Stonewall strode into the midst of the discussion. “We will have guards with her at all times, heavily armed and expertly trained. And alert.”

“Good.” Time glanced at Care. “Good. I feel, however, that your ponies would benefit from having a few fighters on hand with particular experience.”

Stonewall frowned. “Experienced in what way, Specialist?”

“Those who have fought Hurricane,” Care said, “and survived.”

Quiet fell over the room. Care glanced from face to face, then spoke. “I’m not comfortable with splitting our team up, but I do think that it would be good for you to have ponies that know what Hurricane is capable of standing by. I think Turner has a point.”

Andean tapped the butt of his volleygun against the floor. “I am inclined to agree. Too often have your people been caught unawares and suffered the consequences. And we know that the assassin does not work alone.”

Twilight Velvet touched a ginger hoof to her black eye. “Did you have any success in tracking down your traitor, Your Grace?”

“No. The only thing we are sure about is his identity.” Andean’s talons scraped across the floor. “Grenadier Lanner—an expert with explosives, firearms, and swords—never returned to his post after that night. He also fits the description you gave us, Captain Carrot, Blank. I have reasonable assurance that none of my other Blitzwings were in league with him. Reasonable.”

“I-I had a question ab-about him.” Blankety Blank scratched a perforated hoof against his chest. “When he confronted me, and—and tore my h-horn off, he gloated about h-his master.”

Luna and Andean exchanged looks. Luna brought her head closer to the changeling. “What did he say?”

“He—he called his ‘Master’ the only true alpha. And… and claimed that he was a literal god. He lives in nightmares.” Blankety Blank shrugged, his eyebrows high. “D-do you have any idea who—or wh-what—he was t-talking about?”

Andean growled deep in his throat. “If nothing else, the presence of a dark religion explains the suicidal devotion of that mare you captured.”

Luna swallowed hard. “I have met with many powerful, antagonistic forces in my lifetime, but none I would ascribe the title of ‘god’ to. Nor have I ever heard the term ‘alpha’ used to describe a sapient being. Unfortunately, I am very acquainted with nightmares.”

Twilight Velvet leaned one foreleg on the table. “The nightmares were defeated, weren’t they? Several times over?”

“Yes. Unfortunately, the magic that empowers nightmares is an immortal, undying presence.” Luna stood up and paced around the room. “It can be defeated, banished, but not destroyed.”

She tilted her head back. “If the griffon said it lives in nightmares, it leads me to suspect it is not necessarily a member of the Nightmare Forces, but something else. None of the nightmares would dare claim themselves gods. They know better.”

Daring Do folded her wings and rocked her chair back. “I’ve seen lamer creatures try to pass themselves off as godlike. Ask me about Ahuizotl’s sun fixation sometime. Maybe one of the Nightmare Forces got uppity. Delusions of grandeur, divine calling, the whole shebang.”

Andean’s feathery beard ruffled. “And we have seen nightmares possess great powers of manipulation.”

Luna flicked an ear down. “Very well, it would do us well to consider that nightmares are most likely involved. So then, we have Hurricane’s home, a rogue griffon, and a violent religion. Have I forgotten anything?”

Twilight Velvet thumped a hoof. “Viscount Dulcimer.”

“Who?” Time Turner said.

“V-Viscount Hammer Dulcimer is a unicorn steward in Prince B-Blueblood’s house.” Blankety Blank sparked his horn, but was unable to generate a magic charge. “And I‘d show you if I c-could.”

“I’ve got a picture.” Velvet fished through the pile of junk sitting in front of her. She pulled a photo from near the bottom of the stack. “Gotcha. He’s an old friend of my daughter’s. Doesn’t change the fact that he tried to assassinate Blueblood. We think he’s in league with Hurricane because—you know the ponies who attacked the castle? They’re all employed by him as security personnel.”

“With the notable exception of Lanner,” Andean rumbled.

Twilight Velvet lifted the picture in a magic bubble and floated it to Time’s waiting hoof. He drew the image close and studied the face.

Pink coat. Purple mane. Trimmed goatee. Smug smile.

Time Turner’s mouth went dry. “I know this stallion.”

“Huh?” Daring Do trotted to his side. “You seen him around Canterlot?”

“I don’t go to Canterlot much these days.” Time Turner rested the photo in his lap. He stared into the middle distance, his eyes glazing over. “No, this face is one from the past.”

Blankety Blank snuck a peek at the viscount’s face. “Is he s-somepony I’d remember?”

“No. By this time we’d been separated.” Time turned his head towards Blank. His mouth curled downward into a gnarled frown. “This is the stallion who locked me in a time loop.”

“A time loop?” Andean said. “I have been educated in the foibles of time travel, and I understand that constantly moving back and forth through time would put a wear on you that—”

“I am thirty-five.” Time brushed his graying, spiky mane back. “Do I look thirty-five to you?”

Andean snarled. “I do not appreciate backtalk. The ravages of snapping back into place lie far beyond mere physical aging. The mind cannot take the strain.”

“Time Turner speaks the truth, Andean.” Luna spread a wing towards the earth pony. “He has suffered much, but also healed much. I am assured of his ability to help us.”

Daring Do placed a hoof on Time’s shoulder. She rubbed gently. “Why did he attack you?”

“He wanted something.” Time Turner glanced back at her. “Would you get my gauntlet? The… the doohickey that stops time?”

“It’s still in pieces.” Daring gave him a half-smile. “You never got around to fixing it.”

Time lowered his eyebrows. He held his mouth open as he thought. “See if you can find the focusing gemstone. You remember; the one I showed you?”

“Yeah, sure.”

It was a quick search through the items found at the scene of the battle. A gaggle of bronze-colored parts lay in a pile, with a white, translucent crystal in the center. She brought it to him, holding it carefully in her hoof.

“This crystal is what makes the magic work.” Time peered deep into the facets and angles. “These lines carved right through the mineral… they draw magic along specific paths, changing earth pony magic into something a bit more… chronological. I assume it works with pegasi and unicorns as well, though I’ve not tested it. I had a prototype with me.”

He nodded his thanks to Daring, then turned to Andean. “He used his own ability with chronological manipulation to cause my device to malfunction. When Princess Celestia rescued me some years later, the device was missing. It’s fairly clear that he stole it.”

Twilight Velvet jerked her head back. “And it didn’t occur to you to track him down and put a stop—?”

“I retired.” Time Turner wagged his stump at her. “I got hurt, so I took the time to heal. I only decided to fight again because Celestia was in danger!”

He heaved a sigh and slumped. Daring hugged him from behind. “And until such a time as Celestia is not in danger, I shall continue to fight.”

“We all will.” Care rubbed her eyes. She lifted her head to Luna. “Is there anything else we need to put on the table?”

“Well, yes.” The princess ground her teeth together. “Dulcimer is also the one who sent them to steal the Grimoire Alicorn.”

Daring Do’s ears lay back against her mane. She exchanged a stress-filled look with Velvet. “Oh, horseapples.”

Luna pursed her lips. “I see you’ve also made a connection?”

“The Grimoire Alicorn has instructions on how to create a new alicorn.” Twilight Velvet planted her forehead on the table. She linked her hooves behind her neck. “An artificial one, but still…”

“That’s it then,” Time said. “He’s been playing the long game.”

Care tapped a nervous forehoof. “How do you mean?”

“Time travel is impossible because of what it does to the physiology and psyche.” Time Turner blew a long breath through his lips. “An alicorn does not age. Painful it might be, but he would be able to weather the ravages of time.”

“Going back as far as he wanted.” Daring Do’s pupils grew small. “Changing anything he liked.”

Andean tapped his beak. His feathers rustled against his back. “And a plot begins to form. Between Hurricane and this mysterious ‘Master,’ there are plenty of beings who would benefit from the abuse of such power.”

Blankety Blank shrunk into himself. “I suddenly feel very c-cold.”

“We need to make a plan.” Care Carrot pointed her horn at Stonewall. “I don’t suppose you’re in charge of Princess Twilight’s security?”

Stonewall flapped her wings. “No, I’m leaving that to Skyhook. I’m just providing the ponies. I myself will head up the search for Viscount Dulcimer with our best ponies.”

“Alright.” Care looked at the ponies gathered around her. “Which one of us is going to assist Princess Twilight’s bodyguards? Should it be me? I’ve got the most experience in guard duty.”

“Too many cooks in the kitchen spoil the soup.” Twilight Velvet tilted her head. “What are the odds that Celestia’s personal guard and Luna’s personal guard won’t get into an argument about seniority?”

“Yeah,” Daring Do said. “I think you ought to leave Sparkle to Time and me.”

Time Turner blinked. “Why us?”

“Because they need Velvet to investigate Hurricane’s home, and they need a kick-rump fighter if the mare herself shows up.” Daring Do chucked Blankety in the shoulder. “Blank and Care both fit that description. I kinda wanna stick close to you. For reasons.”

“Good reasons, I assume.” Time tapped his chin. “It makes sense that I should remain in a more supportive role until I can walk again. Combat advisor works for me.”

Luna sat on her haunches and licked her lips. “I shall remain in Canterlot to coordinate your efforts. Andean and I will continue to search for any sign of our various villains, and examine any clues you bring up. One way or another, we shall finally bring the darkness into the light. Andean?”

The giant griffon lifted himself onto his feet. He held his volleygun out to Care Carrot. “It is not a reparation, but I feel as though anything I can do to assist you in your hunt can only come to good. This was Lanner’s volleygun, which he abandoned when you battled with him. I think it is fair to say that it is yours now.”

Care took the weapon carefully. She looked it over. It had been polished to a sheen since she had used it to threaten Hurricane. The wootz metal bayonet glistened bright. A bag hung from the midsection, holding ammo and sparkpowder.

“Um. Thank you, Your Grace.” Care sucked on the inside of her cheek. “I’ll try to see that it’s put to good use.”

Andean Ursagryph and Luna departed together, with Stonewall leaving soon after. The five teammates, Care, Time, Blank, Daring, and Velvet, all sat together around the table.

Care set the volleygun down, making it the centerpiece of their gathering. “Well, I guess we all know what we need to do.”

“Pray?” Blankety supplied.

“Something like that,” Velvet said. She nudged the shaft of the weapon. “Do you have any idea how to use this?”

“I know you only get one shot.” Care shivered. She pulled her green braid over her shoulder. “I think it’s a little conspicuous to bring to Cloudsdale.”

Time Turner leaned close to examine the bronze-colored muzzle. “I had a thought about that, actually. Both of those. Would you mind terribly if I took it to the shop and examined it?”

“As long as you don’t go busting my gift from the griffon king himself.” Care laughed lightly. “Knock yourself out. What did you have in mind?”

Time let a mischievous gleam enter his eye. He tapped the stump of his right foreleg. “Between a little metalwork, a clever gyroscope, and a sack of explosives, I think I know how to add a little kick to my footwork.”

Daring Do lowered her brow. “You were doing really great until you tried to make a pun.”

“I don’t get it,” Blankety said.

“He’s making a prosthetic, Blank. A weaponized prosthetic.” Twilight Velvet let a tiny smile stretch across her muzzle. “And I’ll be honest, I’m looking forward to seeing how it turns out.”

***

Hurricane shut off the water flowing from the showerhead. She rested her forelegs against the cloudstuff wall and stretched, popping her back. She spread her wings, paying especially close attention to the one that had been injured. Through liberal applications of ambrosia, it had healed nearly completely.

She spun in midair, sending water droplets flying from her coat. A gust of wind drawn by her magic dried her down completely. Her scar throbbed on her cheek. She went to the medicine cabinet to retrieve her last, precious supplies of the breezie medicine.

A whisper brushed past her ear. “Hurricane…”

She shut her eyes tight. She daubed a bit of ambrosia onto a wash cloth and patted her cheek. The pain dissipated. She sighed to herself, closing the cabinet. She wiped the fog away from the mirror and got a good look at the new Hurricane.

She was younger. Much younger. Where once was the body of a nearly forty-year-old, scarred mare, what stood before her was a rejuvenated, muscular twenty-something pony. Strong of body, sharp of mind, and dark of intentions.

“Hurricane…”

She knew that it would only be a matter of time before her skills would be called to the test—

“Hurricane.”

She threw up in the sink. A chill spread down her back, raising her hair from the tip of her tail to the crown of her head. Darkness clouded the edge of her vision. She fell to her knees, quaking.

The mirror no longer held her youthful face. It roiled and rumbled. Shadows swallowed shadows. Clouds scratched against the glass. Emptiness struck the core of her chest. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears.

Two greedy green eyes glared down at her. “Hurricane. Rise.”

She was hoisted upward by the adrenaline flowing through her veins. The fire in her scar blazed. “Master. What do you want?”

“You have failed.” The apparition in the mirror narrowed its eyes. “Return to the Grove and await further instructions.”

“But I am so close!” Hurricane punched the wall beside the medicine cabinet. “I have my target, I just need troops! Dulcimer cannot be allowed to—”

“Silence!” Wind blew her mane back. “Do you think yourself wiser than me? Do you think your plans are better than mine? You shall do as I say and leave Dulcimer to his own devices.”

Hurricane heaved in a breath. She turned her face to the floor, her thoughts racing. “You want Dulcimer to succeed.”

The eyes widened. “What?”

“You want him to become an alicorn!” Hurricane shook her head, letting her mane flit across her face. “You’ve been helping him ascend, haven’t you?”

When the mirror did not reply, she replied for it. “Just as you assisted Sombra in his efforts.”

A voice hissed inside her stomach. “You have no proof. No evidence to back your claims; your baseless accusations.”

“I have intuition. You gave Sombra and Dulcimer access to golden apples.” She flared her wings. “The fruit of the Tree of Life; the key to everlasting youth. It had to be an ingredient in the birth of alicorns. Who else has access to it besides your lackeys?”

“You presume much, Daughter of the Sky! You presume that I shall not strike you down where you stand!”

Pain shot through her scar. It ran through her jaw to tear at her teeth, her eyes, her ears. It glowed from within, lit by the apparition’s magic. A vision of the snake that had bit her flashed into her mind. Fangs outstretched, venom pouring from its mouth, tail slithering through the air as it leaped.

“You are a child to me, Hurricane!” the monster roared. “I was here when the world was formed! I will live to see the end! You are a mere whisper on the wind compared to me!”

She gritted her teeth against the sting of her old injury. “No. You are wrong.” Her tail thrashed behind her. “I am far more than that!”

“Do not presume,” the darkness said, “to tell me what is and is not so.”

“My actions have decided the course of history.” The corner of her mouth tilted up. “I led ponies through the time of the windigos. I united them. I brought them to Equestria. I formed Equestria with my own blood and sweat!”

She thumped a hoof to her chest. “I created the alicorns that have all but ruled the world for a thousand years. I trained them, raised them, educated them. I am the only pony with the power to slay them.”

She scowled. “I have carved a river through history with my actions. You have been imprisoned since the First Age. Reliant on minions and pawns. You have no true power, Lord of the Sky. You have been impotent since the day you were banished to the abyss!”

“I have guided you! Freed you! Entrusted you with a kingdom!” the vile presence screamed. “Without me, you would yet be weeping in the emptiness, cursed to an eternity alone!”

“You promised me a kingdom, and all I have gotten is pain!” She slammed her hoof into the mirror. Cracks spiderwebbed outward. “I came to fulfill a noble purpose, to right my wrongs! And yet you tell me to retreat?”

She wrenched the mirror from the wall of cloudstuff. She slung it under her right wing and marched for the doorway.

“All who defy me will die!”

“As did Celestia? As did Luna and Twilight? As did the changelings who imprisoned you? I shudder at the thought.”

She kicked her door open and walked into open air. Far above she could see a clear, blue sky. Far below, there were brown fields and gray mountains. A lip of clouds sat before her doorway. She walked to the edge.

Cloudsdale’s Eye lay at the very center of the city-state. A concave wall of clouds, rising taller than any castle tower, loomed high and low. Doors and windows opened to the inside of the tube of solid clouds. Wind rushed past her face, cooling her scar.

“I will destroy the false alicorns. All four of them.” Hurricane glared at the mirror and held it over the empty expanse. “I will slay Dulcimer and burn Sombra’s book. I will lead the Equestrians to their true purpose. Their true calling as a strong, united nation!”

“You could never have succeeded without me!” The green eyes faded to gray in the light of the sun. “You will fall to your own hubris!”

“You may be right. But you? When your kingdom of lies crumbles at your feet?” Hurricane looked down. “You shall simply fall.”

She dropped the mirror. It tumbled end over end, through wispy clouds, on its path to the ground miles below.

Hurricane took a step back and ran her hooves through her mane. She fought to fill her lungs without hyperventilating. Deep breaths in and out followed her every move as she turned back to the apartment.

She caught the sound of feathers on the wind. Her ear cocked, she looked up to see a griffon male descending. His feathers and coat were charred, but obviously functional. He reached a talon out to scrape against the cloudstuff, slowing himself before his landing. He turned his head to one side to look her in the eye.

“Commander Hurricane, it’s fortunate you chose this moment to step out.” The griffon’s beak squeaked as he slid the sharp edges together. “You are a surprisingly difficult mare to find. I assume you heard that the attack on Canterlot has been called off?”

Hurricane lifted a hoof halfway. She opened the door to her apartment and gestured him inside. “Grenadier Lanner. Yes, I have. Our soldiers are still in Cloudsdale, are they not?”

“Aye.” Lanner entered the main room and shook dampness from his wings. He glanced at the sparse surroundings before taking a seat on a plain, wooden stool. “We haven’t had the time to move them out quietly, so they’ve been laying low in cells. But you, the sisters have given your removal priority.”

“Plans have changed.” Hurricane’s left ear tilted downward. “I have just finished a conversation with the Master. It seems Dulcimer has outlived his usefulness.”

Lanner’s feathery ears perked up. He glared out one eye. “I do not understand. Does this have something to do with why you threw a mirror off of Cloudsdale but a moment ago?”

“I have learned,” Hurricane said slowly, “not to question the wisdom of the Master. If he desires any trace of his presence to be removed, then I shall make it so.”

Lanner scratched beneath his beak. “Have our enemies found a way to track the magic of the Unseelie Courts?”

“Regardless, we must act quickly and quietly.” Hurricane reached up to lay a hoof on Lanner’s shoulder. “We must move to destroy Dulcimer before he has a chance to react. Show me where our ponies are hiding, and we shall assault Blueblood Manor with a full army at our back.”

Lanner lifted his head high, a grin on his face. “At long last, the trumpet of war bellows over the land! It shall be as the Master promised!”

Hurricane hovered a meter above the floor, crossing her forelegs over her chest. “Yes, it shall be as the Master promised.” She snarled deep in her throat. “All glory to the Lord of the Sky, who reigns eternal.”

She glanced through a window into the gaping expanse of the Eye. She could see Canterlot loom into view as Cloudsdale approached to bring winter to the capitol. “And death to the enemies of a freed Equestria.”

***

A chime rang above Daring Do as she stepped into Time Turner’s shop. She glanced around at the ticking clocks, each keeping time. She walked up to the counter and smiled at Dinky. “Hay. I’m here to see a stallion about a timepiece.”

“Uh huh.” Dinky leaned on her forelegs. “He’s been in his workshop all day. I think he’s getting close to being done. You can probably go in.”

“Thanks, kid.” Daring tipped her pith helmet and headed for the back room.

“So,” Dinky said. She waited for Daring to pause. “Do you love him?”

Daring gave her a double take. She narrowed one eye. “Is it any of your business?”

Dinky stretched her long, lanky legs one by one. “I dunno. He’s been like a brother to my mom. He’s been like a dad to me since I was little. He’s the stallion who’s gonna walk me down the aisle when I get married.” Dinky blew her bangs back. “You tell me. Is it any of my business if he gets hurt?”

Daring wanted to roll her eyes, but she held herself in check. She pulled her lips back and leaned her head to the ceiling. “Alright, kid—Dinky. Points for boldness, but you aren’t gonna win yourself friends if you directly confront everybody who your parental figures might have a relationship with.”

Dinky grimaced and lowered her ears.

“Look.” Daring pulled her hat from her head and shook her mane out. “Look. Why don’t we have a sit-down and talk? Girl-to-girl.”

Dinky glanced at her feet. She waved at a chair sitting beside the clock shop’s radio.

Daring pulled the chair up and sat backwards. She rested her hooves on the backrest. “First thing’s first, I think. What’s your beef with me?”

“Well…” Dinky pressed her lips together. “I know who you are. You haven’t exactly been keeping it a secret.”

“Eh. Call it an open secret.”

“I know that your books are partially biographical. Based on true stories. That sort of thing.”

“Close enough as I can get and keep an all-ages rating.” Daring chuckled. “Yeah, you’ve got me pegged. What about it?”

“You have a different boyfriend in every book.”

Daring Do froze. She cleared a sudden lump in her throat. “Aheh. Well… yeah.”

“And in every book, you’re with them for about as long as it takes for you to eventually have your big kiss.” Dinky frowned, bringing her hooves together. “And don’t think I can’t read between the lines.”

Daring Do rubbed her forehead. She leaned closer to Dinky. “Okay. You’re right again. But before you say anything, I wanna let you know that I’ve already had this conversation with Time. We’ve discussed it. We’ve gone over it.” She nodded. “And I decided I want this to be different.”

She leaned her chin on her forelegs. “You don’t want him to get hurt. I get that. I don’t want to hurt him either. He’s a really special guy. Really special.”

Dinky sat on the floor. She looked over the watches sitting in the glass case in front of her. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“Trust Time.” Daring Do bit the tip of her tongue. “Just… trust him to know whether or not he’s got a good thing going.”

Dinky lifted her head to meet Daring’s eyes. She gave her a shallow nod and pointed to the workroom. “He probably wants to show you what he’s been working on.”

“Good.” Daring placed the pith helmet deliberately on her head and smirked. “And hay, don’t worry so much, Dinky.”

“Advice for the ages,” Dinky mumbled.

Daring Do stepped into Time’s back room, by now a familiar collection of half-assembled clocks and widgets. Sparks and gaseous hisses came from the far end of the room, where Time Turner hunched over his workbench. He guided a welder with his good hoof, while his teeth clamped around a makeshift vice. He held the part steady and gave it one final touch.

“Come on, my little beauty,” he said to himself.

“Why thanks,” Daring Do laughed. “But I don’t think there’s anything little about me.”

“Daring!” Time jumped up and waved her closer. “You’re just in time to witness the inaugural run.”

The workbench held a three-jointed piece of metal, its color a shade darker than silver. At one end was a wide, broad pad, while at the other lay a series of soft straps. “I don’t suppose,” Time said, “you would help me slip it on?”

“Sure.” Daring took the object in her forelegs. It moved on its own, its three hinges curling the metalwork in a “C” shape. She shook it, causing the sections to bounce. “It’s your prosthetic?”

“The prototype, at least.” Time wiped grease on his coat. “The metal ought to support my weight, while the gyroscope should help balance me. The surprises I’ve installed will give our enemies a little fright, I’m sure.”

Daring smirked. “What sort of surprises?”

Time Turner held his stump against the straps. “If you would?”

Daring nestled his damaged foreleg into the harness. She pulled it tight, going back and forth when Time said it was too tight or too lose. It took a few moments, but eventually, she was able to step back.

Time put his new foot on the ground. He raised himself from his seat with slow, careful movements. The knee wobbled.

Daring reached to catch him, but Time shook his head. “Nope, nope. Come now,” he said. “How do you expect me to learn?”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t have to fall on your face.”

“The risks of science, Dr. Do.” He took a shaky step forward. “Very often we find ourselves fighting such natural laws as entropy and gravit—Eeeeah!”

This time, Daring caught him in her forelegs. She laughed from deep within her chest. “You goofball! You’re gonna end up breaking the other legs!”

“Well. Maybe.” Time smiled up at her. “Not so long as you’re here, I don’t think.”

Daring’s mouth became a zigzagging grin. She hefted him onto his feet. “Let’s keep it that way, Time. What else you got in there?”

“Simply put—” Time Turner lifted the artificial leg and slid aside a sheet of metal on the edge. A small, bronzed tube came out the bottom. “—a leg up on our foes.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t make puns.” Daring closed one eye to squint down the tube. “I guess this is why you wanted—”

“The volleygun, yes.” Time moved the barrel away from her face. “Please don’t look directly into the gun. You don’t know if it’s loaded.”

“I guess I trust you not to shoot me in the face.” Daring winked. “One shot, right?”

“I considered that a flaw in the original design.” Time twisted a dial. The volleygun barrel flipped around. “Two shots. I’ve removed some of the excess of the original design in order to fit it comfortably in my prosthetic. It turns out the spear-length of the shaft is mostly so that it can be used as an actual spear once the shot is fired. Since spears aren’t exactly my specialty, I removed that factor.”

“So it’s—what?” Daring fluttered her wings, and winced when a spike of pain hit the joints. “A hoof-gun?”

“Yes…” Time scrunched his muzzle. “It sounds ridiculous when you say it aloud.”

“We’ll work on the name.” Daring slid her foreleg around his grimy shoulders. “What say we practice just walking around? It’s a pretty mild night for November.”

Time rested his cheek against hers. “Give me a moment to clean up and I’ll have Dinky mind the shop. I know a restaurant on the far side of town that you’d love.”

Daring gritted her teeth. “If you’re thinking the Silver Spoon Restaurant, I’m a little underdressed—”

“Oh no, no. Not at all.” Time Turner held the door for her with his artificial foreleg. “Sugarcube Corner is much more our speed.”

Daybreak

Care Carrot ducked a swipe of Blankety Blank’s cloven hooves. She pressed forward with a series of lightning-fast kicks that were knocked aside one by one. As she leapt for a headbutt, Blank spread his wings and fluttered out of her reach.

Blankety Blank tapped his nub of a horn. “Is it break-time yet?”

“What?” Care said, sweat pouring from her brow. “You tired?”

“In a w-word,” Blank said, “yeah.”

Care walked to the edge of the exercise mat and squirted water into her mouth. She untied the straps holding her padded helmet steady. “I’m not. I’m too nervous to be tired. We’re close, Blank. Either we’re gonna find Hurricane or we’re gonna get close enough that she comes after us again. We need to be ready.”

“No arguments there.” Blankety Blank slumped against a nearby folding chair. “B-but I can only move so fast. I can only r-run so long.”

Care poured the last drops of her water bottle over her head. “That’s why we’re gonna work together, I guess. None of us are good enough alone.”

Blank raised an eyebrow. “I thought it was a g-good idea to split up.”

“I didn’t agree right away.” Care shook her mane out. “But what Time said made sense. I don’t want Skyhook’s crew being caught with their horseshoes loose.”

“That’s fair.” Blank’s multifaceted eyes glistened in the low light from the castle walls. His horn sparked with a faint hint of magic fire. “I can almost taste emotion again.”

Care sat down and closed her eyes, controlling her breathing to bring her heart rate back down. “Good. Just hints of it right now?”

“Yeah. Just g-glimpses.” Blankety held his breath. Green fire trailed slowly across his body, replacing black carapace with white hair. Pink eyes blinked once the spell reached the tip of his tail. “How do I look?”

“Like that same pony who tried to sell me a mirror.” Care popped one eye open. She examined his pale coat and white mane. “You got me curious. You could be anyone or anything you wanted, so why a short albino? You aren’t gonna blend in that way.”

Blank tapped his teeth. “I get enough experience blending in. You m-might say it’s a little bit of r-rebellion against my hive. Everything’s dark and grimy and crumbling. Even when I got to Equestria, I wanted to stand out against the c-color.”

He waved to his rump, where his color wheel cutie mark sat. “Changelings don’t get cutie m-marks, but when I met Celestia… I chose this one as a p-promise to myself. I said I would be able to chose whatever life I w-wanted, instead of what the hive said I was. Whenever I wanted it.”

Care rubbed her foreleg to relive tension in her muscles. “And you chose the life of a knight.”

“Yep. I haven’t regretted it t-too hard yet.” Blank scratched behind his ear. He suppressed a yawn. “What about you? What’s y-your cutie mark story?”

Care lowered her ears. She flicked her tail from side to side. “It’s… it’s not quite as triumphant.”

“They’re not, usually.” Blanety shrugged one shoulder. “They’re usually stuff you’re w-working up towards, right?”

Care examined herself closely. Her cutie mark, three carrots sitting beside each other, their greens intertwined, stared back. “I promised myself I’d never forget my roots. I’d never forget what my home really was.” She pulled her upper lip back ever so slightly. “That lasted until I was about sixteen. I didn’t fit in anymore. There’s no place for a unicorn is an earth pony family that… huge and traditional. I’m no farmer.”

She gave him a sidelong grin. “So the Royal Guard is my home, now. I’ve done pretty good with myself, too.”

Blankety Blank walked across the mat to sit beside her. “But the cutie mark’s still there.”

“An eternal smudge on my butt reminding me what a dumb kid I was!” Care laughed, and ended it with a sigh. “But what can you do? Nowadays I tell people that the carrots stand for my past, my present, and my future, and how the cobbled together greens represent me. They mostly give me a weird look and change the subject.”

Blank rested a hoof on her shoulder, giving her an uneasy smirk. “Dumb kids are sometimes smarter than they let on.”

Care narrowed her eyes, the corners of her mouth turned up. “Yeah. And then they grow up to be captain of the princess’ personal guards.”

“Right.” Blanket stretched out his legs. “Back to work?”

“If you’re ready.” Care Carrot’s horn flickered with pink magic. “I was thinking about testing a few magic grapples while we sparred. You don’t have a problem with that, do yo—?”

“Save it for another time, Cap. Blank.” Daring Do popped her head into the castle’s gym. “Just got word from Velvet: Train for Canterlot leaves in three hours. Get yourselves cleaned up and ready to go by noon.”

“Gotcha. Thanks.” Care sent a smug smile Blank’s way. “Bought yourself some time with that one.”

“If you were a changeling, my relief would be…” Blank pulled a cloak over his pale coat and slid sunglasses over his eyes. “Palpable.”

Care Carrot snorted and started choking. She held a hoof up to ward off Blank’s help. She sputtered through a few coughs. “You got your sense of humor from Time, didn’t you?”

Blankeyt snickered. “You got your sense of humor from sandpaper.”

“Oh, ho, ho. You are asking for it the next time we spar.”

***

Hurricane looked over the small assembly of ponies in the cloudstuff warehouse. Pegasi all, in various armored and armed states. She glanced at Lanner, who watched her with keen interest. “Is this all of them? All one hundred pegasi?”

Lanner relined against a wall emblazoned with the Dulcimer Construction logo. “All that had not already left. We’re about eighty strong, besides you and I. Perhaps just enough to accomplish our goal to eradicate the traitor Dulcimer and annihilate the manor.”

“We’re not destroying the manor immediately.” Hurricane flexed the muscles where her wings connected with her torso. “No. We need something in there. Dulcimer has arms. Armor. Far superior to anything this motley crew has.”

Lanner frowned. “It’s a raid?”

“Dulcimer won’t be at home,” she said. “He’s shown his hand too fully to remain. He’ll be in hiding.” She scowled. “I intend to flush him out, and kill two dastards with one wingblade.”

Lanner opened his mouth. He held up a talon, then set it back on the floor. “I don’t—”

Hurricane brushed past him and flared her wings. “My soldiers!”

The eighty-odd ponies in the room looked her way, some standing to loose attention, some barely cocking an ear. Hurricane held back a snarl.

“Sons and Daughters of the Sky, we have a mission of vital importance.”

“That’s what the Mother said,” one mare in the front row said. “Then she canceled on us. What gives? I thought the battle was postponed on account of Her Royal Majesty being alive.”

“The battle to take Canterlot will not take place.” Hurricane raised her chin. “We have a different mission now. One that will swing the country in a new direction. Our direction.”

“So spit it out!” someone in the back row said.

“As someone who has spoken directly with the Master—” Hurricane bared her teeth. “—I believe I deserve your respect.”

When the room quieted to a deathly chill, she continued. “We no longer have the luxury of removing the government from the hooves of those who would stifle us. She is too strong, too engrained into the minds of the populous. We must do something drastic, something unexpected, in order to change a status quo a millennia old.”

Hurricane glanced between their faces. Her soldiers held their breath, almost to a pony, and awaited her words. She grinned. “We shall wipe Canterlot from the face of the mountainside.”

An argument sprang up almost instantly about whether it was wise or even possible. It rose steadily in volume over the course of a minute, before Hurricane barked a halt.

“It is possible, my warriors!” she shouted. “Ancient battle techniques will give us the power. Modern weapons from Dulcimer’s storehouse shall cement our advantage. We shall ride in on the whirlwind and leave our enemies ashes and dust!”

“There’s only eighty of us!” a soldier shouted. “We were going to attack with three-hundred! We’ll be slaughtered!”

“We were going to take Canterlot with three-hundred.” Hurricane stomped a hoof. “We shall destroy it with less than a third of that.”

Lanner shifted from his place on the sidelines. He flicked an ear. “I must agree with their sentiment, my commander. Eighty is hardly an imposing force. We need another advantage.”

“Yes.” Hurricane waved to the crowd. “All those with experience as crewmembers of an airship, move to the left. All with experience with weather management, to the right. Those with experience in both, take flight.”

Fifteen ponies sidled left, twenty sidled right, three flew, and forty-two remained in the center.

“Grenadier Lanner…” Hurricane folded her wings against her back. “How many guards has King Ursagryph posted at the hospital?”

“Dozens. Nearly the entire force of Blitzwings.”

She nodded. “Leaving a mere skeleton crew on board the Thunderhead, correct?”

Lanner’s eyes popped. “You cannot be considering hijacking Felaccia’s flagship!”

“I am not considering it, grenadier.” Hurricane placed a hoof beside her mouth. “My brothers! My sisters! I give to you the mission given to me by the Master himself! We shall assail Blueblood Manor and retrieve our supplies! We shall steal aboard the Thunderhead and take it as our own! We shall seed the clouds of Cloudsdale and destroy Canterlot utterly with fire and water!”

The warriors looked to each other, worry heavy on their brows. The mare in the front row shook her head. “But how?”

Hurricane kicked open the door to the warehouse. Wintery air rushed in. She turned, her mane dancing manically, her scar red and raging.

“Follow me.”

***

Flakes of snow danced through the air as the train pulled into the station. Care disembarked, a plaid red coat shielding her from the cold. She regretted not wearing a hat, but her long mane was just warm enough. She rubbed the goose bumps on her foreleg.

Blankety Blank followed close behind, pulling his cloak tight. Daring Do and Time Turner moved hoof-in-hoof. Velvet took the rear, a small knit cap astride her head.

“If you’re chilly now, wait until you reach altitude.” Daring Do shuffled her hooves. “I guess we’ll see you later.”

Twilight Velvet pulled her into a rough hug. “Don’t be so glum, Yearling! You act like we won’t see each other again!”

“Well, you know…” Daring embraced her tight. “You never know with Hurricane.”

Care Carrot looked to Blank, then to Time. She smiled. “Yeah, but she isn’t as strong as we are. She doesn’t have friends like us.”

“Darn right.” Velvet pulled herself away from Daring and patted her back. “Just keep fighting the good fight. We’ll pull ahead sooner or later.”

“I intend,” Time Turner said, “to make it much sooner.” He adjusted a dial on the gauntlet over his good hoof. He teased a screw tighter on his prosthetic. “I have one piece of advice, Captain: Give better than you get.”

“Absolutely.” Care gave him a mock salute. “I expect to see you leading by example.”

Blank grinned. One of his fangs was visible for the briefest of seconds. “You won’t be disappointed. I’ve s-seen him in action. Just plain c-cool.”

“And you are absolutely terrifying.” Time winked. “And I mean that in the best possible way.”

Daring Do wiped her eyes. “Go on and get out of here before you make me all mushy. I fully expect you three to come out of Cloudsdale alive. In fact, I order it.”

“We outrank you.” Velvet pursed her lips. “We all do.”

“Details unimportant to the resident civilians.” Daring brushed her off and took Time by the foreleg. “If you’ll excuse us, we have a princess to greet.”

Twilight Velvet giggled. “When you see her, tell her ‘Best Mom’ says hi, and I’ll see her soon.”

“Will do, Chief.” Snow collected on the back of Time Turner’s duster. “And good hunting, everypony.”

Daring and Time walked to the airship harbor, while Velvet, Care, and Blank went to the castle. A special hot-air balloon waited for them, alongside Centurion Stonewall. She pointed a wing at a unicorn mage beside her. “Dr. Merlot will cast the cloudwalking spell and fly you to the city. You can go to the barracks if you need any equipment. We have armor that can adapt to a unicorn’s body.”

Her face scrunched up before she could control it. “I don’t think we have anything suited for a changeling.”

“Th-that won’t be a problem.” Blank ducked his head and climbed aboard the balloon’s basket. “I’m good for c-cloudwalking, too.”

Twilight Velvet frowned at Stonewall. “One less problem, then, Centurion.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Stonewall lowered her ears and her head. “I will also be in Cloudsdale if you require my assistance. My team will be scouring a few of Dulcimer’s warehouses.”

“Thank you.” Twilight Velvet climbed aboard the basket, with Care hopping on behind her. She nodded to Merlot. “Whenever you’re ready, Doctor.”

Merlot shut his eyes and concentrated. His horn shone with light, which crackled and sparked. A miniature thundercloud roiled from his forehead and floated down to Velvet’s and Care’s hooves. A tingling sensation climbed up their legs.

“Geeze.” Care’s hooves danced. “I feel like they fell asleep.”

“It’s more or less a wakeup call, actually,” Merlot said. “Please keep your limbs inside the basket at all times until we reach Cloudsdale. I don’t want to have to catch you if you fall.”

“I-I’m glad you’re so concerned for our safety,” Blank mumbled.

The burner hissed, and the balloon rose. Care blew a breath from her lips. “I’ve never been to Cloudsdale. I hear it’s beautiful.”

“That it is.” Velvet patted Care’s shoulder. “I think you’ll like it. I had to go up there before the cloudwalking spell came back into popular use. They carted me everywhere in a sky chariot. I felt like a queen.”

Care smiled. “Yeah? Looks like we get to do all the footwork this time.”

“For the best.” Velvet shivered and buttoned overcoat to the middle of her chest. “Is there any sort of keep-my-plot-warm spell in your repertoire, Doctor?”

“I believe you’re looking for the ‘Magic of Winter Clothing,’ madam.”

Velvet chuckled. “Ask a stupid question.”

Care squinted into the fog. Moisture collected on her coat as they passed through clouds. “About how long is this trip?”

“Minutes,” Dr. Merlot said. “We’ll be breaking through the cloud cover momentarily.”

Blankety leaned against the side of the basket beside Care. He squinted. “S-see anything?”

“Not just—Oh. Oho.” Sunlight broke through the mist and shone on Care’s face. “Okay. That is exquisite.”

Cloudsdale sprawled before them. Clouds rolled and churned at the edge of the city-state, raining rainbow falls every few meters. Spiraling architecture generated buildings larger than Canterlot Castle. Children played in pools of water collected on the surface. Light shone through crystalline windows. Ponies flew between the different levels of the clouds as they lived and worked in a three-dimensional city.

“White ground below, and blue skies overhead.” Velvet winked. “Just another day in Equestria’s largest city-state.”

Merlot held the rudder steady. “This is our stop. The Eye of Cloudsdale is about two miles north. I suggest you get a sky taxi.”

“S-sounds good.” Blankety dug through a pouch at his side. “Here. I’ll get the doctor’s tip—”

“You’ll do no such thing.” Merlot drew himself up. “I do this in service to the kingdom and to the crown, specifically Her Royal Majesty.” He rolled his eyes. “You’ll besmirch my pride as a professor at the School for Gifted Unicorns.”

“Apologies.” Twilight Velvet grabbed Blank’s shoulders and led him out of the basket. Her hooves made soft sounds on the clouds. “Thank you very much for your help, Doctor. Stay safe.”

“You as well.” Merlot bowed, then adjusted the instruments in his balloon. He descended through the same clouds that they stood on, leaving behind a plain, white, unbroken surface.

Care bounced. The cloud gave slightly, then shifted back into place.

“Y-you’re making me nervous,” Blank said.

“It’ll hold.” Care grinned, hopping along the edge of the cloud. “You gotta let me have a little fun.”

“A set of handrails would do this place a world of good.” Twilight Velvet checked a compass pinned to her lapel. “We’d better get jogging if we want to get to the Eye. Be on your guard. Like Blank said, it’s a rough neighborhood these days.”

“Can do, Chief.” Care Carrot set off at a mild run. “I’ll be right behind you.”

***

Hurricane marched down the walkway leading up to Blueblood Manor’s front doors. A growl arose from the rosebushes, along with a magical crackle. She scratched her itching, hellish scar. “Burn them.”

Fiery arrows arced through the sky, striking the timberwolves as they formed. She walked through the flames, kicking any wolves that avoided the arrows, and breaking any jaws that snapped at her. One by one, the manor’s security system was brought down. She broke down the front doors with a mighty shove, splintering wood.

She heard Lanner’s lion-esque roars mingling with the yelps of the arboreal monstrosities. Her soldiers fought tooth and hoof with the timberwolves. A police officer ran up to her, shaking a flashlight. “Hay! You can’t be in here! This is a crime sc—”

She grabbed the pony’s head and slammed it into a nearby table. She took a wingblade in her hooves and slid it across his throat. Another stallion appeared around the corner. She threw the hefty flashlight with lethal accuracy; he collapsed with a crushed skull.

Glass shattered as her warriors broke through the windows. They made their way to the armory, killing any officers in their way. Armor clanked and magic shields hummed. Spears clattered. Wing blades slid along feathers.

Hurricane glanced into the pool room to see the water drained. Yellow caution tape had been placed around the rim. She crept up to the edge to look inside. A cop lay at the bottom, unconscious or dead. Beside him, a seam was visible in the marble floor.

“Commander.”

Hurricane cocked an ear to listen to Lanner. “What is it?”

“We have eradicated the officers. The manor is ours to burn.” The grenadier brushed down his singed fur. “We are more than ready to fly to Canterlot.”

Hurricane hopped to the bottom of the pool. She lifted her forelegs high and brought them down on the outlined rectangle. The marble shattered. A slab the size of a pony crumbled in on itself, tumbling down into darkness. Stairs appeared, just visible in the overhead light.

She sat beside the opening and scowled. “The coward fled through the heart of the mountain. He could be anywhere within the old mines.”

She thought about jumping down. Scouring the crystal caves until she’d found the stallion. Splitting the eighty soldiers under her command to comb the caverns.

“No,” she said, mostly to herself. “No, he is secondary to our true purpose. The attack on Canterlot will leave him homeless.”

“Commander…” Lanner slid his talons against each other. “Is this wise? Attacking Canterlot with eighty soldiers is a difficult thing to wrap my mind around.”

“It would be foolhardy if the goal was to take and hold it.” Hurricane sneered into the tunnel and hopped out of the pool. “No one will want it after we finish with it.”

Lanner swallowed hard. “As the Master decrees, of course. We are… I am curious how we are to accomplish this fantastical feat.”

“Cloudsdale is naught but clouds, Lanner.” Hurricane turned down the hallways and pathways to the armory, the griffon close behind. “To make rain, one adds water to a cloud. To make snow, one brings cold. To unleash the storm…”

She rested her hoof on the door frame. “One seeds the cloud with lightning.”

In the center of the room lay a suit of armor. It was dark—blue and gray. A horn as sharp as a sword protruded from the center of the helmet. The greaves held claws that curved like hooks. The armor’s wings separated into leg-length blades.

“This is why we need the Thunderhead.” Hurricane approached the armor. She slid a circular device off a workbench. “Its electromagnetic weapon will be our key to unlocking the potential of Cloudsdale.”

The device clicked into place on the armor’s back. It hummed to life. Hurricane stepped into the armor and started locking it into place. Her sky-blue coat vanished into shadows. “We shall craft such a storm that Equestria will not see the likes of it again for centuries. The sort which I once used to lay siege to the Crystal Empire.”

“The… the Crystal Empire?” Lanner shook his head. “It’s been at peace for—”

“Over a thousand years.” Plates slid down to cover her legs, locking with her boots. The armor on her back shifted to follow her contours. She tested the sharpness of her hooks. “There are things you have yet to understand, Grenadier. I have centuries of experience. I have done this sort of thing before. We shall destroy Canterlot and see all our enemies crumble.”

She lowered the helmet over her head. Her face disappeared in the armor’s shadowy shield. The only thing visible through the mask was two glowing red eyes. Her voice reverberated through the helmet’s filter. “Are you ready to take the Thunderhead?”

“I shall distract the guards…” Lanner rested his talon on the hilt of a curved sword. “While you take them out. Can you do it alone?”

She opened her wings. The blades shrieked as they spread apart. The device on her back spun of its own accord. “I shall manage.”

***

Care Carrot shielded her face from the setting sun. “Dang it, we’re running out of time.”

Blank leaned over Velvet’s shoulder. “A-are you sure you’re reading the compass correctly?”

Twilight Velvet glared at him. She marched across a bridge spanning between two cumulonimbus clouds. The ground shifted hue hundreds of meters below. “Yes, darn it all. It’s just that this city’s so topsy-turvy and twisty-turny that I can’t make heads or tails of this—”

“Hold up,” Care said. She pointed to a mountainous cloud as it sailed into view. “Can you read those signs? Did we find it?”

“Hurricane Lane, Lower Cloudsdale, Business District…” Blankety licked his teeth. “The Eye. Bingo. It’s inside that cloud. See where the fluff gets darker? That’s solid cloudcrete.”

“Hustle up, kids.” Velvet took off at a run. “Time’s wasting!”

Their path took them over arcing bridges and under spiraling archways. Pegasi gave them odd glances, but moved on with their lives. A tunnel through solid cloud led through darkness, lit at intervals by crystalline lamps.

They came into the eye at the bottom. Clouds spiraled upwards as stairs climbed from floor to floor. Doorways sat in alcoves. Windows lay boarded over by cloud bricks. Ponies milled around in the shadows, sending glares their way.

“Keep your wits about you.” Twilight Velvet slowed to a purposeful stride. “What’s that address, Care?”

“Three. Storm Court.” Care craned her neck. “About two miles up.”

“Welp.” Blankety pulled his lips to the side. “Shoulda got that taxi.”

“Uh huh.” Velvet slapped her face. “It’s shaping up to be a long night.”

They climbed up, up, up towards the open sky. Care lit her horn every time potential rough customers gave them a stink eye. Every time she looked up or down, something between claustrophobia and vertigo hit her in the chest.

Blankety Blank pinched his eyes tight. “All I’m getting is faint anger. Nothing p-powerful. Nothing like Hurricane.”

“Keep searching as far as you can,” Velvet said. “She might be masking it. Or she might be feeling some sort of sick triumph—”

“N-no.” Blank shivered. “There’s no covering up the h-hate she feels.”

Care climbed up yet another flight of steps. She stood with her profile facing the doorway to a small apartment on the edge of the Eye. “We’re there.”

Twilight Velvet gritted her teeth. She came to the doorway, stood beside it, and knocked. “Police.”

A shuffling sound came from behind the door. A small, purple-coated, elderly pegasus mare opened it. “Yes? May I help you, ma’am?”

Velvet pulled out her badge. “We’re investigating a mare who we believe may have taken shelter here. She’s a blue-coated, white-maned pegasus mare with a hurricane cutie mark. She would be strongly built, about forty years old, with a prominent scar on her left cheek. Scars all over her body as well. Have you seen her?”

“Oh.” The mare covered her mouth. “Oh, you must mean Hurricane. But… she’s always been such a nice mare. Always paid her rent on time, you know. Never hurt a soul.”

“Please, ma’am.” Velvet kept her face impassive, but her heart raced. “Where is she now? Do you know? It’s very important that we find her as soon as possible.”

“She—she left about six hours ago with a griffon gentlepon—A griffon male that I had never seen before.” The elderly landlady lowered her ears. “She isn’t in danger, is she?”

“She may very well be,” Care muttered to herself. She cleared her throat. “Where does she stay? Did you see which way she went?”

“I didn’t see where they went…” The mare sucked her lips in. “She stays in apartment twenty-two. A floor up.”

“May I have keys, Miss…?” Velvet said.

“Downy. Do—do you have a warrant?”

Velvet produced the paper in a magic bubble. She let the landlady look it over for a good long time.

Downy’s eyes watered. “Please don’t hurt her. She’s never done anything wrong.”

Care Carrot bit her tongue.

“Thank you for your cooperation, ma’am.” Twilight Velvet accepted the key Downy handed to her. “We’ll be on our way.”

The mare slammed the door shut.

The three of them scampered up to the floor. A cold wind blew through the eye, starting from the top and traveling to the bottom. It was a simple door built into the wall, the wood enchanted to be held aloft by the clouds around it. Velvet inserted the key, turned it, and then hesitated.

“Ready?” she whispered.

“Yeah,” Care said.

“Kinda,” Blank murmured.

“Let’s go.” Velvet pushed the door open. She entered a combat stance, hooves ready to defend herself. She moved closer into the apartment, listening carefully.

Blankety’s horn sparked. “She isn’t here. She was here. She and… and something else. Something horrible. It tastes like decay and corruption and all sorts of wicked things.”

Care charged her horn from pink magic to white-hot. “Sounds like Hurricane, alright.”

“N-no. Different.” Blank looked to her with wide eyes. “Care, I c-can taste it as clear as day even w-without the full use of my horn. It’s wrong. It’s very, very wrong.”

Velvet searched through drawers, inside the mattresses, through the medicine cabinet. She found an empty ambrosia canister and some painkillers, but little else. “I gotta say, this doesn’t quite account for the ambrosia shortage. I was hoping to peg one more thing on her.”

“Like we need more against her?” Care tore open a pillowcase. It was full of feathers. Of course it was, she thought. “She’s a fan of clean living, I see. Sparse and plain.”

Blankety sat down by the doorway. He breathed in and out, focusing his magic. “True. Th-the only personal possession is… is her radio.” He pointed. “There, on her nightstand.”

Twilight Velvet and Care looked at each other. Velvet trotted up to the small table and picked up the homemade crystal radio. She flicked it on and let loose a burst of static. She flipped through channels until she found one that sounded halfway decent. “Poorly made. Amateur work. Looks like a school foal science project.”

“They didn’t have radios in her time.” Care lowered her horn’s intensity back to pink and grasped the radio. She flipped it end over end. “She made this out of scraps…”

“Open it,” Blank said.

Twilight Velvet raised an eyebrow.

“Do it.” Blankety tapped a hoof against the floor. “You have to. There’s more to it than a radio. It tastes dark. Like week-old black coffee.”

Care twisted the screws holding the homemade radio together. They dropped to the table, followed by the bottom casing. Inside, there was a twisted arrangement of metal, crystal, and wires. Tucked between the wires, somepony had hidden a bundle of paper.

Care looked it over. It was written in flowing mouthwriting. Archaic, but recognizable. “It’s a scroll. It’s Hurricane’s.”

“From the look of that paper, it’s centuries old.” Twilight Velvet touched the edge of the yellowed scroll. “What’s it say?”

Care tilted the paper towards her. “Operation: Daybreak.”

Blankety flicked his ears up. “Huh?”

“It’s… it’s Hurricane’s plans to destroy Canterlot. She wrote this before she came to the future.” Care ran a hoof through her bangs and grabbed the tip of her braid. “She’s going to use a hurricane to tear the city away from the mountain. She’s had this plan for centuries!”

Blank sat up. “C-can a hurricane do that?”

“Gale-force winds,” Velvet said. “Lightning and fire. Head-sized hail. A violent mare controlling it all. Yeah, I think it could work.”

“And with her friends to help her…” Care pressed the scroll against Velvet’s chest. “We need to get back. Now.”

“No argument.” Velvet opened the door with a flash of her horn. “We’ll head to the barracks and radio the message straight to Luna. The guards ’ll be able to prepare, and we’ll be able to head up any sort of craziness Hurricane has planned.”

Blankety Blank hopped up. “Sh-she’s had this plan for years. What makes you think she’ll put it into action now?”

“Three things,” Care said. “One, she’s crazy enough that she’d actually do it. Two, I’d rather everybody be ready just in case. Three…” She lowered her ears against her scalp. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“Fair.” Blankety Blank walked out of the apartment and stood on the edge of the porch. A whirl of fire on his back revealed two feathery wings. “I’ll hail an air taxi. We’ll b-be there in a few minutes.”

“Thanks, Blank.” Twilight Velvet scrunched the scroll up and stuffed it into her bag. “How are you holding up, Care?”

The first stars appeared in the darkening sky. Care Carrot sat down and narrowed in on them. Her breath left her mouth in a cloud of fog. “Just about ready to explode.”

“Hold on tight,” Velvet said. “Just hold on tight."

***

The Sky’s Limit floated gently into its dock. Princess Luna beamed as the loading ramp was lowered, while Time and Daring stood close by. Commander Skyhook flew out first, followed by a select few guardsponies. A few crewmembers set about securing the ship to its mooring posts. Skyhook lifted a hoof to indicate it was safe.

Twilight Sparkle walked down the gangplank. She looked up at the cloudy sky, her mouth working silently. She brought her head down and looked out over the harbor. Her eyes lit up when she saw Luna. She ran and threw her forelegs and wings around the elder princess.

Luna held her tight and kissed her forehead. “I missed you, Twilight.”

Twilight buried her head in Luna’s shoulder and nodded.

Rainbow Dash glided down from the airship. She landed lightly and bounced on the tips of her hooves as she waited for the hug to end. She kept glancing around, her eyes darting from one end of the platform to the other. “We should get Twi inside.”

“You are right.” Luna loosened her grip. “We have much to talk about, but I must attend to reports coming in from the police station. Time Turner and Dr. Yearling will take you to the castle. You will be safe there.”

Twilight bit her lower lip. She ruffled her feathers before laying them against her sides.

Daring Do looped her wing around Twilight’s barrel. “Come on, Sparkle. Let’s get moving before it gets dark.”

Rainbow Dash came alongside them. She tipped her head to Daring and spoke quietly. “Is it okay if I invite Rarity to hang out with us?”

“Sure,” Daring said. “The more friends, the better. If Sparkle’s okay with it.”

Twilight nuzzled Rainbow’s shoulder and smiled.

Rainbow Dash sighed. “Cool. I’ll meet you guys at the palace. See you in a few.”

She flew off one direction, Luna flew in the other, and the small procession of guards around Twilight walked to the castle. It was a quiet trip, filled with taunt nerves and furtive glances, but ultimately uneventful.

When they reached Twilight’s room, they let her in. Two guards stayed beside her door while the others spread themselves throughout the east wing. Time Turner wrinkled his muzzle and stretched his artificial leg. “Now the waiting game.”

Daring took his left foreleg. “I hope it’s waiting.”

Time Turner flicked an ear. “Not keen on meeting the commander again so soon?”

“Not while you’re here. Not until you’re healed.” Daring Do pressed her lips together. “Call me selfish, but I like having you close.”

“Well, it wasn’t completely unexpected.” Time gave her a small smirk. His face drooped, his age lines revealing the weight behind smile. “Even so, I knew what I was signing up for.”

“I didn’t.” Daring’s teeth snapped together. She pressed her hooves against his shoulders and shut her eyes tight. “I-I mean…”

She pulled away from him and tossed her mane. “Dang it! Just… when you got blown up, it just hurt, okay? More than my wings. More than Ahuizotl’s torture devices. More than Hurricane’s freaking wingblades! I thought I lost you and—”

“Daring.” Time grasped her hoof. “Daring, look at me.”

She rubbed an eye. She brushed her grayscale mane from her face.

“I’m here. And I’m alive.” He touched her cheek. “And I’m sorry you got hurt.”

“Yeah…” Daring rested her forehead against his chest. “I’m so stupid. I know you got hurt more than I could imagine. Several times. Heck, we’ve all had our moments.”

“But we keep getting back up.” Time touched her chin and lifted her face. “We keep fighting. You taught me that.”

Daring tried for a grin. Her mouth went slack. “I’ve always been a pretty good teacher, I guess.”

Time brought his lips to hers in a gentle caress. His legs shook as he held her. He looked into her eyes. “I-I think that may have b-been a bit impulsive, but I do feel that you sh-should know that—”

Daring Do wrinkled her nose. “Shut up and kiss me.”

“Well…” Time said, his eyebrows rising. “If you insist.”

***

Twilight Sparkle rested a book in the seat beside her. The couch was nice and comfy, much better than anything they had on the airship. Red satin, fluffy pillows, stable legs. Everything one could ask for in a couch, really.

She let her chin flop to the cushion. She grumbled and tested her horn. A single purple spark danced to the book. She rolled her eyes and turned the page with her hoof.

She forced herself to smile. Rainbow Dash would be back soon. She’d bring Rarity, too. They’d all have a good time catching up, eating snacks, talking…

Forgetting.

Twilight Sparkle was having a hard time forgetting. She still saw those blades rushing for her throat. She still felt the metal bite into her legs. She still remembered the mare’s cold, gray eyes looking at her like she was trash.

Twilight planted her nose in the couch and covered her head with her forelegs. She let out a groan of frustration.

A thought sparkled in her mind. Why hadn’t Spike been there to greet her? Was he busy? Was he coming? Did Luna not tell him? She figured he’d have been on the first train to Canterlot, and if not, he’d have hitchhiked.

She cocked an ear. She wanted to call out to a guard and ask them if they knew anything, but she knew it was useless. She blew a raspberry and sat up.

A knock sounded loud in the thick silence of the room. “Princess Twilight Sparkle?”

She looked up to see the door already cracked open. A unicorn stallion poked his head into the room. “I heard you’d gotten back. Is it alright if I come in?”

Twilight smiled. Her eyes trailed along the smartly-trimmed goatee and carefully-groomed pink coat. She nodded and waved Dulcimer inside.

Hammer Dulcimer bowed his head to the guards standing beside the door. They stared straight ahead, never moving a muscle, just as they always did. “Thank you, gentleponies. We’ll let you know if we need you.”

He crossed the room at a sedate pace, his strong legs moving gently yet firmly. He levitated a bag from his back. “I… uh… I didn’t know what sort of treats you liked, so I sort of… bought them all. Silly, I guess.”

Twilight shook her head, her smile growing wider. She closed her book and patted the cushion beside hers. She picked Rainbow’s notepad and pen off the ground and held the writing utensils at the ready.

Dulcimer settled against the backrest. He furrowed his brow. “Is it that bad? I knew you got hurt, but—”

Twilight turned away, bobbing her head. She pulled the scarf away from her scarred throat to show him, then tied it tight. She scribbled down a quick mouth-written note. I might not be able to talk again. I haven’t given up, but it’s hard.

“I’m so sorry.” Dulcimer brought his hooves together. “You didn’t deserve this. You deserve so much more.”

He clapped a hoof against the cushion. “I have—Well, with your permission… We never got that dance I promised you.”

Twilight blushed. She curled her mane behind her ear. It kinda a weird time for it. There’s no music.

“I thought of that.” Dulcimer dug through the bag. He pulled a small, wooden box from the bottom. “It’s not a quartet, but it was my grandmother’s. She made instruments for a living. Guitars, flutes, horns…”

Twilight hissed with laughter. Dulcimers?

Hammer Dulcimer chuckled. “Yes. Both kinds. Her favorite thing to make was music boxes. This was the last one she made. It’s special.” He opened it. Gears turned, and tiny hammers dinged against a bell.

He took her by the hoof and pulled her from the couch. She rested her left foreleg on his shoulder. They swayed in time with the music, looking into each other's eyes.

“Thank you,” he said. “This means a lot to me.”

Twilight Sparkle resisted the urge to either squeal aloud or chew her mane. She focused on breathing exercises and keeping her hooves in time. His eyes were so deep. Deep and dark.

She frowned. Dark? Where had that come from? A shiver ran down her spine. She tried to shake it off.

He lowered his eyebrows. “Is there something wrong?”

She mouthed “No,” tossing her mane with a shake of her head. She gave him a reassuring wink and continued to sway until the box ended its tune. They bowed to each other, both smiling from ear to ear.

He led her back to the seat. She hopped onto the couch with a bounce. He sat down on the floor, directly in front of her.

“Twilight,” he said. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about. It’s about a discovery I made.”

She leaned forward, her ears perked.

“What if I told you—” Dulcimer smirked. “—that I could make anypony an alicorn? Anypony at all. No more aging, no more weakness, no more frailty. Just eternal youth and fantastic magic for anyone.”

Twilight Sparkle’s smile disappeared. She lowered one eyebrow and raised the other. She wrote with frenzied energy. How? What? When did you do this? Where did you? How?

“If you want, I can show you.” Dulcimer held a hoof to her. “Would you like to see how?”

Yes. Yes, of course. Twilight’s mind raced with the possibilities. The impossibilities. Anybody could be an alicorn? Anypony at all? But not now. I need to stay here to keep away from the assassin. Is your study here in the castle?

“It’s one better.” Dulcimer stood up and brushed his suit jacket off. “My equipment, my laboratory, is directly beneath us. Within the old gem mines. There’s no way Hurricane would find you down there. Do you trust me?”

Twilight’s eyes snapped to his. She opened her mouth. The chill shot down her back once more, but she ignored it. Yes. Yes I do.

Dulcimer took her hoof. He led her to the door, which he opened with a spell. “You won’t regret this, Twilight. It’s truly unbelievable.”

He smiled at the stoic guards as they walked past. “Please let Dr. Yearling and Dr. Turner know where we’ve gone. Just tell them it’s Dulcimer’s laboratory. Thank you.”

Twilight Sparkle leaned against Dulcimer as they walked through the hallways. He pushed open a servant’s door and felt around for a button. A section of the floor slid away. “Down these stairs and a ways through the tunnels.”

Something churned in Twilight’s stomach. He touched her shoulder. “Are you alright, Twilight?”

Last time I was in the mines, it didn’t end well.

“Ah.” Dulcimer rubbed the small of her back. “What if I promise that there aren’t any maniacal changeling queens down there this time?”

Twilight squinted at him. She shook her head and smirked. Promises, promises.

“Just follow me.” Dulcimer held her hoof as she stepped down. “And you will not be disappointed.”

***

Daring Do pulled Time Turner closer, leaning into the kiss for all she was worth. Her wings ached as she wrapped them around their bodies, but it was worth it, darn it all. She ran her hooves up and down Time’s back, every ounce of her self control fighting to keep her thoughts chaste.

For the most part. It was maybe just a little sexy. Just a little.

A piercing beep snapped her out of her daze. She blinked at Time, who pulled away with a gasp.

“Oh, Creator,” he said.

“I…” Daring Do cringed. “Sorry. Maybe I went overb—”

“No, no, no, not you.” The beeping continued. Time Turner lifted his left foreleg. A light flickered on the gauntlet in time with the alarm. “Daring… Oh, Creator.”

Daring Do grabbed the gauntlet and jerked it closer to her eyes. “What is it? What’s the matter? What’s this dumb alarm thingy?”

“It’s the gauntlet’s sensor.” Time flicked a switch and the light blinked out. A mechanical arrow whirled like a compass. It settled in the direction of Twilight’s room. “There’s been a temporal disturbance.”

“A what-now?” Daring Do flicked her ears back. “In Equish, please.”

Time Turner buttoned up his duster coat. He checked the straps on his prosthetic and started a fast jog to the room. “Temporal disturbance. Somepony changed the flow of time. Slowed it down or something. Something’s gone wrong with chronology.”

He raced past the guards, who glanced at him with wide eyes. “Sir, are you alright?”

“No.” Time swung the door aside. “Has anypony gone this—?”

The room was vacant.

“Horseapples,” Daring hissed. “Where is she?”

“She’s gone.” Time Turner wobbled on his hooves. “She’s gone and he’s taken her.”

“Dulcimer?” Daring Do cracked her neck. “What does he want with Sparkle?”

“I don’t know.” Time adjusted his gauntlet. The arrow switched directions, following the trail left behind by the time-altering magic. “But I intend to pay him a visit.”

Attack

Celestia blinked. She sat up. She spread her feathers. “Is the operation already over?”

“No, Princess.”

Celestia hopped to her feet. She looked down and let out a yelp. There was no floor. There were no walls or ceiling. It was dark, and murky, and empty, and nothing else. She tripped and fell—down and down past whatever floor she’d been standing on. There were no landmarks. There was no movement. Nothing to tell her how far she’d gone.

“Stand up. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

Celestia spread her wings. She braced herself for a painful tug on her damaged chest muscles, but it never came. She looked down to see herself spotless, with not a hint of a scar to be seen. Once she drew her wings back to her sides, it felt as though her feet touched down.

“Where am I?” she said. “Who are you?”

“Do you recall that magical place known to you as the Dreamscape? A large expanse, filled with stars. Each star a dream, each dream full of hope. All together, it is a representation of the heart of your people, and people everywhere.”

Celestia turned, stepping carefully to avoid falling. The world she found herself in was nothing like the Dreamscape. There was no light of stars, just fog without form. “Yes. Of course I know it.”

“What you do not see, all around you, is the polar opposite of the Dreamscape.” The voice rumbled in the back of her head, not heard with ears, but in her thoughts. “Welcome to the Abyss.”

Two greedy green eyes appeared, glowing steadily. An unclear movement rolled through the mist. “I have summoned you here for a purpose.”

“I was going under anesthesia for surgery,” Celestia said. She stalked toward the being, her hooves making not a single sound. “How is it that I am here? And I ask again: Who are you?”

“A pony is made of three distinct, yet fully interconnected parts. There is your body, which is safe underneath the doctor’s knife. There is your spirit, which is heavily protected, as always.” A gnarled talon pointed at her from the shadows. “But your mind is free to wander. I led it here, so that you may witness the fall of your kingdom first-hand.”

Celestia tried to send power to her horn, to no avail. “What have you done?”

“I had little to do with this,” the being said. “It seems we both failed to reel in Commander Hurricane. She is, as always, acting on her own impulsivity and anger.”

Huge wings flapped to either side of Celestia. She ducked back and held her horn at the ready to stab.

The being leaned forward and rested his left talon on an armrest that came from nowhere. “I am merely the one who made it possible for her to do so.”

Celestia launched herself at him. She gritted her teeth in preparation to plunge her horn into the center of his chest. She was caught up in a mighty talon and slammed against a ground that did not exist.

“I expected the ruler of a thousand-year regime to have a stronger mind.” The green eyes bored into her. “Be still and know that I am in control.”

Celestia sucked in air as he released her. “I will fight you to my final breath, whoever you are! If you seek the destruction of my kingdom, there is nothing in Equestria that can—”

“There is nothing in Equestria that can touch me, Princess.” The throne creaked. “I am beyond you. Accept it.”

Celestia shook her head. “I refuse.”

“Then mourn for your hopeless crusade.” He tapped the tips of his talons together. “I have been called by many names, Daughter of Light.”

Celestia looked around for an exit. There was nothing. There was void. There was absence…

“I have been imprisoned in this world since the First Age. But in another world, they made their children walk through the fire; sacrificed them to me as their ‘Ba’al’—their Lord. They called me a god when I carried the sun across the sky as Apollo. They named me King of the Gods and Architect of Creation as Amun-Ra. They have called me creator and destroyer with varying degrees of accuracy.”

“But you are none of those things.” Celestia took a careful step back to strengthen her stance. “Imprisoned in the First Age? You are one of the old gods; a member of the Unseelie Court. The people you conquered worshiped you in a vain attempt to appease you. You and your fellow monsters were cast into a prison…”

Her eyes widened. Her stomach churned. “This prison. The Abyss.”

“Astute.” The being clapped slowly. “Your forerunners could not imprison all of us, nor could they keep us silent. And now, you are out of time.”

His talon scratched a hole through the darkness. Light poured through, filtered by disease and filth. A face came into focus in the opening: That of Commander Hurricane herself. “You will watch as your people fall to the death carried on my former minion’s wings. You will mourn, weeping and gnashing your teeth, and I shall leave you with the knowledge that none can stand against… your Ba’al. Yes. I like the sound of that.”

***

Grenadier Lanner hobbled up to the entrance of the Thunderhead. He leaned heavily on the walking stick he had taken from Blueblood’s foyer. “Brothers! Kretchwaugh! We have been attacked!”

Two Blitzwings stood at attention by the loading ramp. One of them hefted their volleygun and pointed it at Lanner. “Who goes there?”

“My fellow Blitzwing,” Lanner cawed in the griffon tongue, “we have come under heavy assault and cannot survive without backup. We need to make way to the hospital—”

“Silence, traitor!” the Blitzwing roared. “We know of your actions. King Andean Ursagryph has decreed that you are either to be brought into custody or slain where you stand.”

The other guard brought his volleygun up to his eyes. “Alive or dead, your choice.”

Lanner placed his talons behind his head. “I do not wish you to slay me, brother Blitzwings. But I must choose death.”

A blade the size of a pony’s leg flew through the air and embedded itself into one Blitzwing’s chest. The other guard had time for a shriek of surprise before two blades dug into him. Hurricane flew down in full armor and stabbed each guard several times with the blades on her wings.

Satisfied that they were silent, she flared her wings. The blades leaped towards her and clamped into place like giant feathers. “The electromagnetic armor works as expected,” she said.

Lanner drew a curved saber. “There will be more within.”

“They will be even less of a problem.” Hurricane’s armor hummed. She raised the metal horn on her helmet, signaling the others to approach. “We will move swiftly, clearing out one room at a time. Our first priority is the engine room, followed by the bridge. We need to be sure they cannot sabotage us.”

“As you command.” Lanner pointed his sword forward. “By your leave?”

Hurricane walked up the gangplank. “Attack.”

***

Care cursed to herself as the taxi careened around another corner. The three of them held on for dear life as the cabbie towed their carriage through the sky, oblivious to traffic laws or passing fliers.

She clutched the radio and its deadly cargo close to her chest. A spark of relief touched her heart as the barracks loomed into view. A long, low hangar sat beside the building. “Finally.”

Velvet gave the reigns a tug, and the cabbie skidded to a stop on the clouds. She handed the cabbie a bag of bits and sprinted away.

Blank gave the pegasus a shallow smile. “Thanks. I guess.”

The cabbie held a hoof beside her mouth as they retreated. “Remember, next time you need a ride in Cloudsdale, just ask for me!”

“I will consider that.” Care Carrot’s eye twitched. “I will consider that for exactly as long as it takes me to remember this ride.”

Guards stopped them at the entrance, but waved them through when Care held up her identification. She paused before making her way into the building. “Do either of you know where Centurion Stonewall went?”

“She’s inside, giving her troops a mission briefing,” one guard said. “If you hurry, you could catch her.”

Blankety Blank gave Velvet a sidelong glance. “I hope they haven’t c-changed much since you visited.”

“Are you kidding? It’s Cloudsdale. It’s pegasi.” Twilight Velvet strode up to the front desk. “Change is kinda their forte. It’s their nature.”

Blank’s wings ruffled under his cloak. “Ironic that it’s n-not ours.”

They moved through the white walled hallways, passing door after door. A group of armored soldiers exited a room further down, so Care headed for them. “You Stonewall’s team?”

A pegasus held his head high, a spark of recognition in his eyes. “Yes, Captain. We were just about to head for the warehouse district.”

Care leaned her head towards the door. “Hold up just a moment. We might be changing that pretty shortly.”

Stonewall glanced up from a map of Cloudsdale. She wrinkled her forehead. “That was quick. Find anything interesting?”

“Something downright devastating.” Care slapped the scroll on the tabletop. “Take a look at these plans and tell me how viable they are.”

Stonewall read through several times and shrugged her wings. “Make Cloudsdale a hurricane? Plausible but unlikely. The amount of electricity needed to seed the city-state would be astronomical. You’d need a heck of a lot of bottled lightning.”

Velvet and Blank stood to either side of Care. Blankety put a hoof to his lips. “I-if I may… Y-you might want to stake out th-the weather pro-production facilities instead of D-Dulcimer’s warehouses.”

Stonewall glared at him, but held her tongue. She looked to Care, who nodded.

“I think he’s right,” Care said. “Call me crazy, but I think the age of the note shows just how long she’s had to refine her plan.”

Stonewall paced around the edge of the room. “It still doesn’t quite make sense. She would need to carry enough electricity to make Las Pegasus jealous. That many bottles of lightning would be impossible to move.”

Twilight Velvet rolled the scroll into her bag. “It’s how she did it in the old days, when she used hurricanes as a siege tactic. She’s probably gotten good at it.”

“Then why haven’t we found piles of bottles around Cloudsdale?” Stonewall rubbed her red mane. “Why hasn’t she tried it before?”

“That’s gotta be it,” Blank said. He blushed and ducked his head behind the table. “I—She wouldn’t put the plan into motion un-until she found a source of lightning strong enough. W-we have to find out what that is and k-keep it out of her hooves.”

Twilight Velvet popped her mouth. “Or use it to lure her.”

Care sat down in a chair and let the back of her head rest against the wall. “Alright. New question: What in Equestria has that kinda zippity-zap?”

The hallway exploded outward.

They were thrown against the wall with the soldiers who hadn’t been disintegrated. The table crashed against Stonewall, whose armor shrieked as the shield was tested for every ounce it was worth. Care landed face-first against the cloud and sunk into it. Blankety got tangled up with a guard. Velvet landed hard on her right foreleg.

The barracks tilted towards the ground. Canterlot loomed into view, ready to catch them if they fell. Blank slid down, his hooves scooping up gobs of cloud on the way down. “Help!”

Stonewall shoved the desk aside. It tumbled end over end to the ground below, where it shattered to splinters. “Open your wings! You can fly!”

Blank opened his wings just as a portion of the ceiling collapsed. He dug through cloudstuff in an effort to get free. His wings broke through, and he jumped into the air.

Care peeled herself out of the wall. The room only had one doorway, which was open to a dead drop into downtown Canterlot. “Plan?”

Twilight Velvet winced and rubbed her knee. “Dig into the next room. We can do that, right?”

“Cloudcrete is incredibly sticky.” Stonewall patted the walls, which bounced back into place. The building shook as they tipped further. “You can’t dig through it. You’ve gotta blast it down.”

Care Carrot’s horn lit up bright pink. With a moment’s concentration, it charged to blinding white. “Everybody, cover your eyes!”

She let loose a fire ball and blasted a pony-sized hole in the wall. She helped a couple of injured soldiers through, followed by Velvet and Stonewall. She held her hoof out to Blankety. “You coming, Blank?”

Blankety Blank hovered over the ground. He stared into the distance, his chest heaving. “O-oh, Creator…” He flew through the hole and pulled Care out. The group of them put as much distance between them and the collapsing building as they could.

Lightning arced between the clouds where the Cloudsdale Air Force Base had once stood. They grew darker, heavier, wetter. They lost their rigid military shapes and transformed into a roiling, raging morass.

A brown structure rose above the cloud cover. It was a long cylinder, domed at the ends. Wings and propellers protruded from the sides. Atop the envelope, a bridge sat with light filtering through the windows. Ponies flew from side hatches and made their way to the scene of the destruction.

They flew in a circle. Round and round they soared, twisting the clouds into whirlpools of lightning and water. The wind tugged at Care’s mane and tail. Spikes of cold struck her along her bare coat.

“She’s started.” Velvet held her leg, rubbing it gently. “She’s started to build her hurricane.”

Lightning shot from the prow of the airship. It cut through a nearby tower, sending the top half tumbling. The pegasi around it scrambled for cover as it crumbled.

“Grab the armor and weapons before they get sucked into the storm!” Stonewall screamed. “Get suited up and fight back! We are not letting Cloudsdale go without a fight!”

***

Rainbow Dash shivered as she flew low through Canterlot’s streets. The gentle snowfall was peaceful. Much more peaceful than the past month had been. She swept from one side of the street to the other, enjoying a joyfly from the castle to the Canterlot branch of Carousel Boutique.

A water droplet hit her on the nose. She rubbed her coat dry and cast a wry smile at the sky. Somebody was gonna get in trouble for that one. Who heard of rain during a snowfall? Her smile disappeared when the clouds rumbled. “Canterlot weather is freaky.”

More raindrops fell. She quickened her flight. “What gives? Did somebody up there make a bet or—”

A downpour drenched her right to her skin. She shook out her scarf and huffed. “Ooh, somepony’s getting fired for this.”

The bright light in the Boutique’s big picture window drew Rainbow’s eyes. She landed and set off at a swift trot. “If this stuff freezes, I am not gonna be the guy putting out the salt—”

Lightning struck Carousel Boutique. The magic lights flickered out, and Rainbow Dash could hear screams from inside. She ran at full tilt and burst through the door shoulder-first. “Rarity, are you in here?”

“Rainbow Dash!” Rarity galloped up, her red glasses askew and her mane ever-so-slightly frazzled. “What on earth just happened? What is a lighting strike doing in the middle of winter? I knew I should have gotten that insurance—”

“Get everypony away from the windows!” Rainbow Dash looked to the ponies in the shop, some of them customers and a few of them Rarity’s assistants. “Everypony stay inside until the storm passes! It’s a freak weather incident, and we don’t know what sort of craziness just got unleashed.”

Rainbow Dash held her hooves up with a smug smile. “If we all just stay put, we’ll be able to weather the situation.”

The building next door burst into flames. Lightning flashed as rain fell harder. A burning tree tumbled through Rarity’s window, sending tongues of flame leaping from dress to dress.

Rainbow Dash grasped Rarity and shoved her to the ground, shielding her from the shattering glass with her body. “What the blazes is going on?” Rarity shouted.

“I-I don’t know! I don’t understand!” Rainbow Dash lifted herself off the floor. Some of the patrons were beating the flames with cloth, trying to smother them. Others lay on the floor with painful cuts in their flesh. “Get your first-aid kit! I’ll start getting these people to safety!”

Rainbow Dash lifted a stallion twice her size onto her back. “Just keep it chill, dude. I’ve got you.”

***

Andean rubbed Stella’s downy head as rain rattled against the hospital room’s window. He peered into the stormy night. “Strange weather for the beginning of winter. And with such ferocity, too. I didn’t think pegasi would tolerate such a storm.”

Luna barely glanced up from her work. “Possibly a misjudgment by the weather department. It will be corrected shortly.” She lifted a page from her notebook and sent it hovering to Andean. “Now, in order to properly coordinate our forces, we need to be aware of our troop placement. How many Blitzwings were on board the Thunderhead?”

“Thirty. I had five on the Thunderhead at all times. Now we’re minus one traitor.” Andean spoke softly so as not to wake his daughter. He gave her a final scratch behind the ears. “Twenty-four at the hospital. Five on the airship with the crew.”

He lumbered across the room in two strides. He dwarfed Luna with his wingspan. “I suspect you still have not heard from your police officers?”

“No word from Blueblood Manor at all.” Luna scribbled harder until her pen snapped. She huffed and chucked the two pieces into the trash. “It leads me to fear the worst.”

“I as well.” Andean clenched a fist. “She is close. We need only follow her trail of breadcrumbs—”

The room lit up as bright as daylight. A crackle struck them in their chests. Stella sat up with a whimper. “Sheesha?”

Andean was at her side. “Go back to sleep, Stella. It’s just a little rain.”

The little griffon rubbed her eyes. “Karar ak…”

Something hefty thumped against the window. A hairline crack ran through the glass.

Luna stood up and flared her wings. “Get Stella out of the room.”

The feathers on Andean’s neck rose. He quickly unlocked the wheels on Stella’s bed. “Rest easy, Stella. Kroo… Kroo…”

The window fractured. Shards of glass danced across the room, along with a ball of pure ice. The deadly debris halted when it came into contact with Luna’s shield. “Go! Get her into the hallway! Get everypony into the hallway!”

She slammed the door behind her. Doctors and orderlies scrambled at her words, rushing their patients to safer waters. Luna gripped the ball of ice in her magic. She gritted her teeth.

“Sheesha—” Stella clicked her beak and switched to Equish. “Daddy! What’s wrong, daddy?”

“I do not understand.” Andean glared at Luna. “Equestria’s weather is controlled! What caused this? Who caused this?” He tilted his head. “What are you holding?”

“A hailstone.” Luna’s lips trembled. “A weaponized hailstone. Made to kill or maim. The kind we once used to lay siege to cities.”

She shook her head. “This is neither natural nor an accident. This was an intentional attack.”

Andean took the hailstone in his talon. He turned to the guards. “Captain Barbary, what word do we have on the combat readiness of the Thunderhead?”

The Blitzwing captain bowed his head. “Sir, we lost radio contact with the flagship when the storm started. I sent one of our members to make certain nothing was wrong. We should have a full report once he returns.” His ears cocked at the sound of talons and claws squeaking on linoleum floors. “Speak of Tirek…”

The new arrival paused to catch his breath. “Sirs, the Thunderhead is missing.”

Andean grabbed him by the throat and lifted him into the air. “What!”

“Andean!” Luna stomped a foot. “Put him down and listen.”

Andean snarled. He set the soldier on the floor and ran a claw through his beard. “Proceed!”

“Our guards were lying dead at the mooring point. Slain with blades.” The griffon gulped. “What shall we do, sir?”

Andean squeezed the hailstone until it cracked. “We fight back! All griffons to arms! Find the source of the storm and kill it!”

He growled at Luna. “Do I have your support, Princess?”

“Every last ounce of my power.” Luna’s horn sparked to life. “I shall return to the castle and rally the troops. We will face the enemy together this time.”

Andean nodded. His face grew softer as he turned to Stella, though his eyes remained sharp. “My daughter, I am leaving you with Corona until the battle is over. Mind your sister and do not strain yourself.”

“I won’t, Sheesha.” Stella yawned. She reached up to grab her father’s feathery beard. “I love you.”

Andean kissed her forehead. “I love you with all my heart.”

***

Time Turner stood at the entrance to the tunnels. “To think, this was in the castle for uncountable years and nopony noticed.”

“I think Twilight and Cadence knew,” Daring said. “They had to get back from Chrysalis’ trap somehow, right?”

“I always thought they came out at the mountain’s base.” Time Tuner’s eyes shot to Skyhook and the rest of Twilight’s personal guards. “Ready, gents?”

“As we’ll ever be.” The bat pony commander tested a connection on his boots. “What sort of defense do we have against his time-stopping power?”

“You actually have very little.” Time raised his gauntleted foreleg. “I’ve set this device to insert me into whatever time displacement is taking place, but you’ll be completely unawares. Your best bet is to have strong armor and hope he exhausts himself before he kills you.”

Skyhook blinked. “Do you have a better plan?”

“Yes.” Time waved his prosthetic at them. “All soldiers stay up here, ready to assist should we call you. I’ll go down with Daring, and she’ll hold back to act as reinforcements. I’ll do my best to deal with Dulcimer alone.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Daring Do punched his shoulder. “He might have hurt Sparkle, and you don’t know how to deal with that. I’m staying close to act as support.” She winked. “Just don’t let him attack me, okay?”

“You should at least let my ponies follow you into the mines,” Skyhook said. “We can cover more ground and find the son of a gun that much faster.”

Time leaned against the wall. “All very compelling arguments, yes.”

“That,” Daring Do said, “and you’re not fully healed yet.”

“Quite right.” Time flicked an ear down. “Very well. Let us make the most of a bad situation and get a move on.”

He dug through the pockets of his coat and produced three pocket watches with red labels on the face. He pressed them into Daring’s hooves. “You remember these, right? When they go off, they freeze time in a bubble about, say, two meters wide. It’s useful for stopping baddies, but it also might protect you from any sort of magical attack. Use it as a shield if you need to. I’ve been tinkering with them, so they should last slightly longer.”

Skyhook secured his helmet. His armor’s shield came to life as a faint blue bubble. “How many of those do you have?”

“Just four.” Time patted his chest pocket. His last stopwatch time-bomb clicked. “Use them wisely.”

***

Twilight Sparkle ducked under a low-hanging stalactite. She took Dulcimer’s hoof as he made his way through the dark cavers, lit only by his glowing horn. It had a faint green tinge to it, to go with his eyes. His deep, dark eyes.

The caves creeped her out. Crystal grew bare on the rock. Rusted iron railways led into collapsed tunnels or over cliffs. Skittering noises revealed unseen creatures who made their home where sunlight had ever touched.

“It’s not so bad once you’ve walked these paths a few times.” Dulcimer gave her hoof a squeeze. “I definitely need to add a few lights once I get the process going. But really, once you see the lab, you’ll find that this place can get rather magical.”

A rock tumbled near her. She thought about lighting her horn to see what had caused the disturbance, but a dull pain at the base of her forehead said otherwise. Dulcimer brightened his horn and shone it on a frightened, pure white slug.

“The scariest things to find down here are the blind rat kings, and they wouldn’t harass ponies.” Dulcimer whispered in her ear. “You’re perfectly safe so long as I’m here.”

Twilight extended her wing just enough to brush against his side. Her sensitive wingtip ran over his muscles. She was inclined to agree.

“Ah.” Dulcimer threw a hoof out. A doorway lay embedded in the rock, secured with a hefty lock. “Home sweet home. The birthplace of new science.”

The lock clicked open, the doors swung apart, and the air filled with anticipation.

The room was dark. The most Twilight could see lay in direct line with Dulcimer’s horn. She turned to him and raised an eyebrow.

“Not impressed yet?” Dulcimer laid his hooves on a massive electrical switch. “I’m shocked.”

He pulled the switch down, which connected with a ka-chunk. Lights blasted one, one at a time, in a circle around the room. They illuminated three tubes or cylinders that lay between Twilight and the machinery at the far end of the room. Wires ran everywhere. Devices flickered to life. Through the pain in her horn, Twilight could feel an energy in the air that tingled right down to her hooves.

The cylinders reached three meters tall, filled with a golden liquid. Metal rings coated the tops and the bases, securing them to the floor and sealing them from above. She glanced at them as she passed, but her attention was on the giant magic sensor churning its way to life. It was a great deal more impressive than the pony-sized one she had back at the castle.

If she wasn’t feeling inclined to give Dulcimer most of her attention, she might have taken notes.

The device next to it was similarly impressive: A rectangular metal framework with electrodes at each of the four corners. She squinted; there was a gemstone laid over the support bar near the top.

“What do you think?” Dulcimer said, his voice as smooth as melted caramel. “It’s decent, thought not quite what I got used to at Celestia’s School.” He rested one hoof on her back and pointed the other into the shadows beyond the lights. “I think there’s enough room for a machine shop right over there. And maybe a welding station or two. Add some lights, a little décor, and a mare’s touch, this place could be phenomenal.”

She pulled out Rainbow’s notepad and held the pencil between her lips. Very nice. Most impressive for a basement laboratory. You said something about alicorns?

“That’s where these come into play.” Dulcimer tapped one of the cylinders, which glowed with yellowed light. “Three aspects of the tribes, three cylinders, one alicorn. Magic energy is stored up in that machine—” He pointed at the a siphon at the base of the container. “—is pulled through the cords, and it pressed into the ambrosia contained inside these tubes.”

Twilight Sparkle frowned. Ambrosia? Where did he get enough ambrosia to fill those three tubes? Nopony had ambrosia in these quantities since the shortage started. Where did you get the medicine?

“My family’s personal storehouse,” Dulcimer said. “I’ve been building up my collection for years.”

He stood on a metallic platform. The cylinders were arranged in a three-point pattern around it. “The magic burst from the top—changed by the interaction with the ambrosia—and is pulled here by the magnetized iron I’ve procured. The magic collects within the pony, but rather than tear them apart with the sheer magnitude of it all, it is filtered in such a way that it builds up the body to be able to hold the magic. The pony is transformed.”

He smiled at her. “I will be transformed.”

How do you even test something like this? Twilight examined the plate of magnetized iron. It was as clean as the day it had been manufactured, with not a spot or wrinkle of use. How can you be sure it works? What if it just fries you? Or splits you apart? Or damages you in some other way?

He drew himself up and filled his chest with a confident breath. “It’s been used before, albeit in slightly smaller quantities.”

He led her across the room, to a small podium hidden among the machinery. A book sat upon it, its glossy cover reflecting the light. “I present to you the recovered Grimoire Alicorn, a book of magic written by the horns of both Sombra and Clover the Clever.”

Twilight Sparkle’s jaw dropped. She rushed up and ran a hoof across the cover. I’ve heard of it. I thought it was in the sealed archives because of the dangerous information contained within?

“It was, but desperate times led me to ask permission to examine it.” He took her hoof and moved her back to the cylinders. “I’ll let you look it over in a moment, but for now…”

What’s in it? Twilight walked sideways to keep the book in sight. Why did Celestia think it was dangerous? What sort of wicked things does Sombra detail? What part does Clover play into all of this? Does it have a foreword from Starswirl? Would you—

“Twilight. Twilight!” Dulcimer laughed. “The here and now request your presence.”

Oh, alright. Twilight rolled her eyes and swatted his shoulder. Show me what your miracle magic can do.

Twilight held the notepad with her wing and walked from one cylinder to the next. What sort of filter does the magic go through? Do you have crystals in there or—

Her pencil dropped to the floor. Dulcimer was occupied with untangling a cord, so he didn’t notice. She leaned her face close to the glass. There was something inside the tube, floating in the ambrosia. It looked almost like gossamer. Spider webs. It formed the silky shape of a pony, with lines trailing from a thicker strand that made up the back. It snaked down in four sections, making legs. It shimmied up to form the rough outline of a head.

The next cylinder was much the same, but with the inclusion of wings. The third had a conical knot of strings atop the forehead. In all of them, the lines met at the center, flowing from a faintly glowing heart.

Twilight had seen such things before. But only in anatomy books. Only when it came to biology. They were fairy strings. Fairy strings from one of each tribe of ponies.

Fairy strings that you could only get from inside ponies. Hearts that ponies needed to live. These three ponies were dead.

“Are you okay, Twilight?” Dulcimer plugged the cord in and set it down. “You look like you found a rat king in your mane.”

***

Time Turner followed the direction his gauntlet indicated. Light shone from the sides of his goggles, illuminating the crystal mines. He tripped on a stray railway spike and was caught by Daring. “Thanks.”

“Can we pick up the pace any?” Daring Do ground her teeth. “I don’t want to think about what some jerk with time-stop powers could do to Velvet’s little girl.”

“Then let’s not make it an issue.” Time lowered his beams as he turned to Skyhook. “You’re the bloke with night vision. See anything suspicious?”

Commander Skyhook squinted. “Slugs. Beetles. Maybe some disturbed dust. Looks like hoofprints.” He swiveled his ears. “And I think I hear somepony talking.”

He shrugged. “I can’t tell what direction it’s coming from. There’s too many tiny echoes.”

“And this doohickey only gives us a straight shot.” Time rattled his gauntlet, sending the arrow whirling. He looked to the soldiers lined up behind them, some of them unicorns, some of them bat ponies. “Pair up and fan out. We’re going to comb this place until we find them. I’ll head down the main fare with Dr. Yearling.”

Hoof steps and soft wing beats answered him. Tunnels seemed to stretch into forever. Shadows transformed from rocks to imagined monsters and back again. Time Turner peered around one corner, adjusting his headlamp to look at the walls and ceiling. Finding the corridor empty, he took a step.

Daring grabbed him and hauled him back. She pointed a flashlight she’d taken from one of the guards. Time’s forelegs dangled above an apparently endless drop.

“Oh dear,” he said.

“Maybe you should follow me,” Daring said, setting him on his rump. “This is my bread and butter, you know.”

“Wise words from a wiser mare.” Time tapped the arrow. It pointed straight down the floorless tunnel. “Can you find a way around, then?”

“My specialty.” She took his artificial hoof. “Let’s look for branching paths.”

They moved slowly, keeping one hoof on the wall. Daring nodded. “That one looks promising. What do you—”

A soldier stood in their way, blocking their path.

Time lowered his eyebrows. “Did you find something?”

“You will stop Dulcimer,” the soldier said, his voice a dim monotone. “Take the next right and loop around. The tunnel will lead straight to him.”

“Excellent.” Time clapped his shoulder. “Get the others. We’ll move in for a coordinated strike.”

“I will get the others,” the soldier mumbled. He moved on, his legs moving at a shuffle.

“Wow.” Daring Do leaned her elbow against Time’s back. “I’ll bet he’s the life of every party.”

“Daring, he was alone.” Time eased out from beneath her and stalked towards the oblivious soldier. “Follow him. He’s up to no good.”

The guard all but shambled back the way they’d come. He staggered into an open cavern. The other soldiers stood in a circle, all looking at the same thing.

A cloaked pony stood in the middle of them, humming softly. Its head turned towards Time and Daring. “Wow. You just don’t know to grab an opportunity when you see it, do you?”

Time Turner and Daring Do halted in mid-step. Time reached for the lever that controlled his hoof-gun. “Maybe not, but I know the stench of something going horribly wrong. Who are you and what do you want?”

“I want you two to take out Dulcimer.” The pony pointed a gray hoof at them. A blue gemstone around its neck twinkled in the low light. “You want that, too, so I gave you a nudge in the right direction. So do it, morons.”

Daring Do shook a hoof. “Who’s a moron, nitwit?”

One of the soldiers stepped forward and brandished the metal claws on his boots. “Don’t talk to Princess Twilight like that! It’s not nice!”

Time Turner coughed on the lump in his throat. He covered his mouth as his eyes went wide. “What on earth did you do to them?”

“What’s a little manipulation between minions and masters?” The pony rolled a hoof. “These soldiers, I can hardly believe it. One little song and they’re ready to die for you.”

He looked each soldier in the face. One by one, he saw limp jaws and low eyelids. Not a spark of life in any of them.

Time gave Skyhook a double-take. The commander looked directly at him and shook his head. He glanced at the cloaked pony and shifted his leathery wings.

“Listen,” the pony said. “You kill Dulcimer and save the princess, I go in and get what I came for… Everypony leaves happy. Except for Dulcimer, but who’s counting?”

Daring Do flared her wings. “And what do you get outta the deal? Huh? Huh?”

“None of your darn business.” The pony pawed its hoof. “I’ll put you under my spell, too, if you don’t shut up.”

“Like you can take control of my mind.” Daring Do shifted into a boxer’s stance. “I’ll bet you’re the goon who’s been going around hypnotizing ponies, huh? I’ll bet you’ve murdered plenty!”

Another soldier raised his head. “Princess Twilight wouldn’t kill anybody!”

“Don’t make me add two more to the list.” The cloaked pony giggled. “You are so getting on my nerves.”

Skyhook moved closer to the pony’s back. He crouched, and looked to Time. He mouthed one word: “Run.”

Time shook his head.

“What’re you saying ‘no’ to?” The pony touched her gemstone necklace. “If you don’t go, I’ll just send these wieners to get themselves killed—”

“Run!” Skyhook shouted. He jumped and brought his hooves down on the pony’s neck. The other soldiers leapt to defend her. “Get out of here! Save Twilight!”

The pony screamed.

It was an enchanted scream, filled with an ancient and arcane power. It pressed back with the force of a physical blow, sending soldiers flying in all directions. They picked themselves off the ground, shaking their heads and cleaning their ears out.

“Are you with me?” Skyhook said, his voice small. “Please be with me.”

Time Turner yawned to pop his ears. He readied his hoof-gun. “Lady, you can surrender, or—”

An A-sharp blew him against the wall. The pony pulled her cloak over her head before standing up. “You’ve made me mad, Turner. You annoy me, Yearling. You hurt me, Skyhook. Do you realize what an enormously terrible idea it was to piss me off?”

The mines rumbled as she drew herself up. Her gemstone radiated with piercing blue light. “I am the Maid, and I am not to be screwed with!”

Daring Do’s ears drooped. “Oh horseapples.”

The Maid wiped her nose. She sang a low note, gradually increasing the volume. The soldiers around her covered their ears and sank to their bellies. Skyhook laid his ears flat. “Attack! She can’t take us all at once! Attack!”

He shouted at Time over his shoulder. “Run!”

“But—”

“Save Twilight!”

Daring grabbed Time’s shoulder and pulled as hard as she could. “Move it! We can save her while they take out the freakazoid!”

Time gave one look at the battle before they disappeared around a corner. The guards leaped, dodged, and careened, but they couldn’t get close to her. She was always one step ahead, ready to avoid or intercept. She blasted a guard against the rocks with a solid wall of sound, and he fell limp.

Her laughter echoed all throughout the crystal mines beneath Canterlot.

Time

Skyhook circled around the edge of the cavern, seeking an opening into the vicious melee. The Maid was everywhere and nowhere all at once, striking with a voice like thunder only to vanish between bodies. Her laughter pierced his feathery ears. It felt like his eardrums were going to rupture.

She disappeared again, and the soldiers glanced around, their hackles rising. Skyhook ground his teeth, wishing desperately for a spear to keep her at arm’s length. A diamond dog’s arm’s length. Maybe a dragon’s.

“Up here, ninnies.”

The soldiers snapped their attention to a craggy outcropping four meters above the cavern floor. The Maid stood on the edge, her cape flaring in the energy pouring out from her amulet. Her hood remained as dark as ever, but Skyhook got fleeting glances at a gray coat and a silver tail. A soft song trailed to them, as beautiful as any he’d ever heard.

“My voice is sweet, my notes fall ever soft
To touch your ears, and hold your heads aloft
In days of yore my enemies would merely scoff
But in my words, your deepest wishes waft”

He decided he could do without the lyrics.

She inclined her hood. “Now, bow.”

All around Skyhook, the soldiers knelt down and pressed their noses into the stone. His head jerked from one side to the other. He was the only pony standing.

An irresistible force restrained his limbs. A blue glow, tainted with faint green, seized him and lifted him off the ground. He couldn’t move a muscle. He could barely breathe. He was dragged through the air up to the Maid’s perch.

He caught the glint of glasses in the fold of her cloak. “Well, aren’t you an anomaly?” she asked.

He forced words through his lips. “And you’re a witch.”

“Rule number one of being helpless, mouse.” Her voice turned hard and dripped with distain. “Don’t antagonize the cat.”

Skyhook choked a laugh. “You’re a cannibal, too?”

“Don’t be crude. We leave that to the wight.” Her grip tightened around his chest. “All your fellow soldiers are under my thrall. They’d do anything I’d tell them. How come you’re immune to my song?”

As the pressure increased, it squeezed tears from his eyes. “Tone deaf?”

“I’ve heard you sing, you idiot.” She walked along the edge of the precipice, dragging him along behind her. “It’s not because you’re a bat pony. I’ve got plenty of your fellow freaks of nature down there. It’s not because you’re strong-willed, because I’ve controlled a mare who’s so bull-headed she won’t agree with anything that isn’t her idea. There’s something different about you.”

She flicked her silvery tail. “So I’m gonna find out what that is, and then twist your head off.”

“Sounds great.” Skyhook tried to look around for an escape, but it hurt too much to move his eyes. “Let’s do it over lunch.”

“I’ll admit you amuse me.” She rubbed her chin. “A shame I can’t control you. You would have made a delightful minion.”

She halted. Time Turner stepped out from behind a rock, his hoof-gun trained on her. He clicked his tongue. “You villainous types and your monologues. Keep your thoughts on what you’re doing and you might actually accomplish something.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” the Maid snarled. She hovered Skyhook between her body and the muzzle of the gun. “I wonder if you’ve got the same resistance to my charms as your batty friend, here. I wonder if he’s got a resistance to whatever magic you’ve got in that weapon.”

“Oh, none at all,” Time said. “But then, I’m willing to bet that cloak of yours doesn’t have much resistance to hooves.”

The Maid probably blinked. “Huh?”

Daring Do jumped from above and landed on the Maid’s back. The kicked sent the maid tumbling from the ledge, into the hooves of the soldiers waiting below. They set her upright.

Skyhook grasped the tip of the outcropping, holding on as tight as his sore muscles would allow. Time hauled him up with his artificial leg.

The Maid growled. “You should have run!”

“You should have stayed home today, Milk Maid,” Daring shouted back. “Wanna piece of a real tussle?”

“I’m pretty sure you can’t deliver, old mare!” The Maid inhaled. Her amulet glowed with piercing bright light. Everypony shielded their eyes.

She let out one high, shrieking note. The caves crackled in response. Rocks fell from the ceiling. Stone crumbled beneath their hooves. The ledge fell away, leaving Daring and Time scrambling for cover, and Skyhook grabbing air with his sore wings.

The Maid looked up as the roof collapsed. “Oh horseapples.”

Time and Daring fled down the tunnel. Rocks clattered around their hooves, following them on the path to the laboratory. Skyhook ran behind them, doing his best to keep up. He looked over his shoulder to see the soldiers standing stock still, awaiting the Maid’s orders.

The Maid was nowhere to be seen.

“No!” He ran back to them and slapped one guard in the face. “Snap out of it!”

A rock the size of a carriage wheel head hit another guard in the back of the head. He fell without a word. Skyhook shook him and listened for a heartbeat. He found none.

“Cuss!” Skyhook pushed a soldier out of the way of a small avalanche. “Wake up! Everypony, wake up!”

Skyhook felt pebbles bounce off his helmet. He had to get them out of the quake. Somehow. There had to be a way out!

He turned to the path towards Dulcimer, just in time to see it vanish into the floor. He swore harder.

His eyes trailed upward. In the light of his helmet’s headlamp, he saw an opening to a larger room, one right in the center of the mountain, untouched by the cave-in. A spark of an idea hit him. “Everypony! Princess Twilight is in that room! She needs our help now!”

The guards all looked up.

Skyhook let out a painful breath. “Everybody who can fly, carry someone who can’t! We need to get up there, pronto!”

One at a time, his soldiers scooped somebody up and hauled them into the air. Skyhook picked up the unresponsive guard and laid him across his back. He was heavy, but he’d been trained to carry heavier. They raced for the opening as the room grew more unstable.

Skyhook’s eyes widened. The opening was crumbling shut as the ceiling lowered. He put on an additional burst of speed. “Hurry! The princess needs us!”

His lungs wheezing, he squeezed through the opening just as it slid shut. The mountain stopped shaking. The rocks skittered to a halt. The silence grew deafening.

Skyhook pulled off his helmet and shook out his mane. The room was large enough to fit the entire castle in. Paths led in every direction. His soldiers stood on unsteady legs, searching for the princess they were meant to protect.

Skyhook fell to his stomach and groaned. It was gonna be a long road out of the mountain.

***

Care Carrot watched as the Thunderhead decimated Cloudsdale piece by piece. Flashes of color soared through the seeded clouds; Hurricane’s soldiers making quick work building the storm. She danced her hooves, grounded and unable to fly to battle.

Velvet wrapped bandages around a civilian’s hoof. She spoke with a motherly voice, backed by years of practice. “Easy. We’re gonna get you to ground. You don’t need to worry. We’ll take care of it.”

“They’re killing it,” the pony cried. “They’re killing my home!”

“I have to do something.” Care paced across the soft ground. “We have to stop the airship. What sort of weapons does Cloudsdale have? Anti-siege thunderclouds?”

“Care, it’s been almost twenty years since I was Captain of the Guard.” Twilight Velvet jerked her horn to the remains of the base. “You’ll have to talk with Stonewall when she gets back.”

Blankety Blank fluttered his disguised wings. “Y-you won’t have long to wait. Sh-she’s coming.”

A flock of pegasi soared for the clear spot where they waited. Stonewall landed first, her armor battered by the storm. “We’ve gotten a few weapons and some armor. Not much, but it’ll be enough to start.”

“What’s the plan?” Care looked over the meager pile of armaments. “Can we get to the Thunderhead? How many attackers are there? Do we know anything?”

“We know that at the moment, we’re outnumbered and outgunned.” Stonewall gave the airship a smoldering look. “They hit us right in the barracks. We’ve got more injured soldiers than able bodies.”

She clapped a hoof to Care’s shoulder. “Which is why we need to do something rash, stupid, boneheaded, and risky.”

Care nodded. “Then I’m your mare.”

Stonewall frowned. “I really hoped you’d put up more of an argument than that.”

“I’ve learned that desperate times call for desperate measures.” Care patted Stonewall’s cheek. “And I’m a desperate mare.”

“Then here.” Stonewall kicked a set of purple and golden armor towards her. “These are my spares. They ought to adjust to fit you. It’s a bit stronger than the average armor set, so it should give you an edge on Hurricane’s goons.”

Care proceeded to buckle the plating on. The individual pieces hummed with their own force fields. “Nice. The barriers don’t just activate when the helmet’s clipped?”

“No. It’s a new safeguard we’re trying to implement.” Stonewall tested the balance on a spear. “It’s the Captain of the Guard’s armor, so it won’t disguise your coloration, but I don’t consider that a point against it.”

“It’ll work for now.” Care attached the gold-trimmed breast plate and lowered the helmet over her head. Her reddish-orange coat and green mane shone through the seams in the armor. “How do I look?”

Blankety Blank grinned. “The colors don’t clash, at least.”

“You look ready to kick some butt.” Twilight Velvet picked up a crossbow and looked through the sights. “So what’s this unbelievable plan you’ve got in your cranium?”

Stonewall scratched pictures in the cloud. “Hurricane’s got her airship in the center of the storm at all times, with both the wind and the warriors making approach difficult. We aren’t gonna be able to take the ship with a full charge. We need to make like the heroes of storybooks and slip a small team inside while the others distract the enemy.”

Twilight Velvet raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. I was wondering why it felt like I’d already seen this movie before. You’re gonna actually use Applewood tactics?”

“Rash, stupid, boneheaded, and risky.” Stonewall gave her a curt nod. “Like I said. All you guys need to do is cripple the engine and the airship will be out of the fight.”

Blankety Blank nibbled his lip with a fang. “So your s-super-elite small force is the three of us.”

Stonewall pressed her lips together. “We’ll carry you in on a taxi—”

“Yay, my favorite thing,” Care said.

“—and drop you on an upper hatch.” Stonewall rolled her eyes, then clasped her own helmet. “We’ll hope that my troops can last long enough for the Canterlot troops to mobilize.”

“They will.” Care swung her hooves to get used to the armor’s heft. She danced from one leg to the other. After a moment, she settled down and tipped her head towards the Centurion. “Stoney? Don’t get killed.”

Stonewall pressed her tongue into her cheek. “Yeah. You, too.”

Centurion Stonewall, Captain of the Equestrian Royal Guard, raised her booted hoof. “All wings, report in!”

The first wing of five soldiers strode forth. The head of each flight spoke up, one after the other.

“Green leader; prepped to fly.”

“Blue leader; eager for action.”

“Delta leader; armed and ready.”

“Red leader; standing by.”

“Stone leader; rocking and rolling.”

Blankety counted the available ponies. “Twenty five. I like my odds inside the airship. We’ll only be about a d-dozen to one.”

“Chill out,” Care said. “We’ll do fine. Are we or are we not really dang good at what we do?”

“I’m a police chief,” Velvet said.

“I’m a sp-spy,” Blank said.

“Whelp.” Care Carrot lowered her eyebrows. “I think I’ll go back to being the sarcastic pessimist now.”

***

Twilight’s knees knocked. She backed away from the cylinder, keeping her eyes on the glistening fairy strings. She rushed to pick up the pencil and dropped it again. She took it in her hoof, passed it to her mouth, and scrambled to scribble her thoughts. Midway through the sentence, the earth shook.

She stumbled to her knees as the sounds of the cave-in reached her. The pencil rolled far out of her reach. Dulcimer stopped it with a hoof. “Don’t worry. I’ve reinforced the walls and ceiling. This place isn’t coming down any time soon. If we get blocked in, I’ve got teleportation maps by the scanner.”

He frowned as she slid away from him, her wings flared. He picked up the dropped note and read it aloud. “‘Where did you get those—’ Those what, Twilight?”

She pointed a shaky hoof at the canisters.

“Ah. The fairy strings. They’re pretty critical for this whole operation to work.” Dulcimer connected the magic siphon to the earth pony cylinder. He tilted his head towards her and smiled wide. “I got them on a grant for Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. As one of their alumni, I have certain connections.”

The earth pony heart pulsated. It was still giving off magic. Some small bit of it was still functional. Twilight held back a gag as the cavern shook once more. She snatched the pencil away from him and wrote fast and hard. No. No, they would never approve of something like this. You had to have pulled these from living ponies, Dulcimer.

He looked at her with a blank expression.

She glared at him. She ripped a page out of her notepad and stuffed it into his hooves. The entire concept is erroneous. We should not have to murder three ponies for the sake of one. It is disgusting. I don’t even understand how you could have thought this was a good idea.

Dulcimer looked up from the note. He folded it and gave it back to Twilight. “Maybe if you let me explain…” He held out a hoof.

Twilight refused to take it.

“Then follow me.” He walked towards the metal framework with the gemstone. “What you see right here is a portal through time. I hope to make myself an alicorn to be able to survive the ravages of traveling the… time stream, I suppose? It was always thought that it was impossible to change the past, but that was because of the limited amount of time you have before you’re ripped back to the present.”

He shrugged. “With the power of an alicorn, it wouldn’t be an issue. You could use phenomenal amounts of power and stay for an extended period of time, or even jump back several times to get the destination just right. It would hurt, but since alicorns don’t age, you wouldn’t suffer any permanent ill effects.”

I’m smart enough to know that changing history is dangerous. It’s irresponsible! You don’t know what might happen if you change—

“I could stop Hurricane before she cut your throat. Or even before she injured Celestia.” Dulcimer reached out for her, but she backed away. “Why are you so afraid of making things better?”

Twilight Sparkle snorted steam. Why are you so set on killing people to get power?

Dulcimer shook his head and rubbed his neck. He laughed, turning his back to her. “Oh, Twilight. I just want to see change. Change for the better. How much more… amazing would life be if you didn’t have to worry about your friends perishing before you did? Not just your five best friends, but every friend you ever made afterward?”

Twilight swallowed. She bit deep into the wood of the pencil. I’ll deal with my loss the way most people deal with grief. I’ll mourn. I’ll cry my eyes out. I’ll remember them in my heart. I’ll move on and keep making the world a better place without murdering ponies!

Dulcimer sighed. He waved a hoof. “I’m sure you’ll come to see things my way. Given time.” He looked at her with his deep, intense, dark eyes. “Twilight. It’s not fair to let a pony die when it would be so easy to save them. To make them more than they are.”

Twilight shook her head. She marched towards the wires surrounding the cylinders and grasped a tangle, ready to wrench them out.

“Stop.” Dulcimer scratched his goatee. Twilight Sparkle stood frozen in time, her face contorted with anger, her strong muscles poised to destroy his handiwork. He untangled the wires, picked her up in a magic bubble, and carried her into the shadows at the edge of his laboratory. He set her down at a particular spot and stood behind her. “Go.”

She teetered on her hind legs, thrown with her own momentum. Her head popped up. She looked every which way to find where she’d gone. She spun around, her wings flailing.

Black crystals erupted from the floor and surrounded her in a razor-sharp cage.

“The cylinders weren’t the only magic I found in Sombra’s book.” Dulcimer’s eyes glowed with purple fire. The ceiling groaned with stress. “I suspect you’ve dealt with this sort of thing before?”

Twilight Sparkle tried to scream, but her vocal chords rebelled. A clang echoed throughout the caverns as she tried to punch free from the prison. She continued to bash the crystal, sending fractures running up the surface.

“It’ll hold you long enough for me to get the process running.” Dulcimer shook his head and started towards the machinery. “I really hoped you would be more understanding than this.”

“I understand that you’re foggy in the brain!”

Dulcimer’s back stiffened. He turned to look at the earth pony making their way to him. He grimaced. “Mr. Turner, I presume.”

Time Turner held his hoof-gun at the ready. “Don’t move. I’ve been itching to shoot this thing all day and I’m looking for an opportunity.”

Dulcimer leaned his head back and let out an exasperated groan. “Don’t you people realize that when I’m done it’ll all be worth it?”

“You can’t explain this!” Time pointed to the cylinders and the dead ponies within. “You can’t make this go away! You’re a monster of the highest order! You lie, steal, murder—”

“Once I go back, I can change everything.” Dulcimer tugged at his lapels. “I’ll be a good king. I have knowledge of the flow of history on my side.”

“You tortured me for five long years!” Time Turner put his hoof on the trigger. “You aren’t taking that back. You can’t! Nothing you do will make that pain go away.”

“What if I make it so that it never happened?” Dulcimer swept his hoof across the floor. “I can go back and give myself the plans for the alicorn cylinders, the time machine, the crystal etching—all of it before I decided to meet with you. After that, nopony will have to be hurt.”

“Stop talking!” Time Turner took a step forward. “Do you want me to show you what a lead ball can do to a chiseled chin?”

“No.” Dulcimer smirked. “But did you really think I wouldn’t notice your girlfriend sneaking up behind me while we talked?”

Daring Do and Time Turner looked into each other’s eyes with the same adrenaline-filled expression. She juked a way from a blast of purple, crystalline energy. Black spikes erupted from the spot she’d been standing on.

Dulcimer ran in an arc past Time, firing Sombra’s spell as he went. Time jumped out of the way of each screaming attack and ran to meet Dulcimer before he could get to the cylinders. He crashed into the unicorn shoulder-first.

Dulcimer hit the floor hard. The purple glow faded from his eyes. He frowned. “This isn’t going as well as I’d hoped.”

Time hovered over him, gently touching the trigger. He allowed Dulcimer to stand. “No fast movements. No glowy horn bits. Daring, help Twilight get free.”

“Way ahead of you,” she said as she pried a shard away from Twilight’s cage. “It’s gonna be slow going, though.”

“Naturally.” Time Turner cracked his neck. He noted the way Dulcimer was getting up; it was putting the unicorn closer to the cylinders. “No. No more moving around. Stay right where you are, Dulcimer. I’ll not tolerate any monkey business.”

Dulcimer sighed and stretched upright. “You wound me, Turner.”

“Just following your lead, then.”

“Funny.” Dulcimer shook his smartly-trimmed ponytail. “I think you’ve forgotten what made me such a problem for you in the first place.”

Time Turner made a strangled gasp. He jerked the trigger back as fast as he could.

“Stop.” Dulcimer released a spell from his horn. The world froze around him. Time slowed. Time Turner stopped.

The end of the barrel of his hoof-gun was ablaze in a flower of heat and smoke. Tiny fragments of black material blasted forth, surrounding a metallic ball that was spinning on an axis. The projectile was moving so fast that even with time slowed as much as it was, Dulcimer could still clearly see it flying across the room.

He sidestepped the ball as it inched its way through the air. “Now that is an impressive weapon. I’ll have to see if I can make any improvements to the design—”

Time Turner blinked. His gauntlet beeped. He turned away from the slowly spreading cloud of smoke and socked Dulcimer in the jaw.

Dulcimer caught the second punch as it came. He looped his foreleg around Time’s and used the earth pony’s weight against him. He jabbed his horn towards Time’s eye.

Time responded with a headbutt. He followed up with two more in quick succession. He swung his prosthetic up underneath Dulcimer’s chin and sent the unicorn tumbling with several broken teeth.

Dulcimer spied the volleygun ball soaring just over his head. He fired off a crystalline blast and turned the floor at Time’s hooves to spikes. Time leapt above the shards, hefted his leg to strike, and brought it down.

Dulcimer caught him beneath the forelegs. He spun Time around and smashed his face against the unicorn cylinder’s glass. He held Time steady, turning his face with a hoof. “This is the fate you’ve decided for yourself.”

Time glared in the direction Dulcimer was forcing him to look. The volleygun ball sailed straight for his forehead.

“This,” Dulcimer said, “is torture. The knowledge that no matter what you do, you’re doomed. You will fail and fall, and it was your fault. You were the one who pulled the trigger. You were the one who volunteered for the mission. You were the one who brought the mare you love into danger she can’t escape from.”

He strained his muscles as Time struggled to get free. “My grandmother’s death taught me that I won’t get anything done by hoping and praying. I’ve got to take matters into my own hooves and mold the world into what I want. You let yourself be led by a princess who couldn’t even protect herself.”

The ball was close enough to reach out and touch. Time pressed his hind legs against the glass. “That’s true enough. But that’s why she’s got us!”

He kicked. He launched out of Dulcimer’s grip and rolled beneath the volleygun ball. His artificial leg tangled up beneath his body. He lifted his head with a gnarled grin. “Checkmate, Dulcimer.”

Dulcimer brushed himself off. He gave the ball an appraising glance. “I don’t think so. You missed.”

“I would have missed,” Time said, “if I was aiming for your daft bonce.”

Dulcimer’s jaw dropped. He turned just in time to watch the projectile smash through the cylinder’s glass casing. Cracks ran across the surface with agonizing slowness, while liquid spurted out from the seams. The ball trailed bubbles as it made way for the pony’s heart.

Dulcimer released his spell and returned the flow of time to normal. He scrambled for the activation switch and yanked it down. Time Turner stepped away from the ambrosia pooling on the floor and readied his hoof-gun for a second shot.

“Turner,” Dulcimer said quietly. “That wasn’t the spell I was referring to.”

Time’s heart skipped a beat. He ripped his time-stopping gauntlet off and tossed it away. He leveled his gun and aimed for Dulcimer’s chest.

Dulcimer’s spell hit him dead on.

***

Twenty-five pegasi flew towards the airship. Behind them, Stonewall towed the taxi cab pulling Blank, Velvet, and Care. “Are you three ready? We’re getting close to the storm front.”

“I can feel the chill from here!” Care shouted over the wind. “How big a window do you think we have?”

“Pretty much nil!” Stonewall pointed at the airship. “They’ve already seen us!”

A turret below the nose swiveled towards them. Two volleyguns sat beside a bulbous window. Blankety Blank gripped the edge of the cab. “Break formation!”

The gun fired, sending dozens of pellets from each barrel. A pegasus near the front of the group tumbled out of the air. The rest of them scattered into the clouds, seeking targets.

Twilight Velvet lit her horn. “Eight pegasi flying in from the high left!”

The purple-armored flyers streaked towards them, spears held tight in their forelegs. Stonewall turned in a wide right, putting their backs to them and shrinking their profile. “They can’t kill what they can’t hit. Shoot them out of the sky!”

Velvet let loose a concentrated beam of light, which clocked one warrior in the wing. They tumbled down in a tailspin. Care’s spell sent a fireball blazing into the center of the formation. They scattered, their feathers singed from the explosion.

Blank sighed as he saw the falling pegasus correct their flight. “It’s gonna be hard to take these guys out of the fight permanently.”

Stonewall swore. “They’ve reloaded the volleyguns. Hold on!”

She pulled up, bringing them above the airship’s horizontal axis, out of the gun’s firing range. A swarm of hailstones shot towards them, battering Stonewall’s armor. Clangs like resounding bells accompanied flashes of magic on her coat.

“Looks like the new armor holds up,” Care said. She sent a burst of fire from her horn to melt the next wave of hail. “Question is: Are you?”

“As well as can be expected.” Stonewall looked down and groaned. “Cuss everything, here they come.”

Blankety Blank hissed. “I count forty pegasi.”

Twilight Velvet leaned beside him. Forty warriors flew towards them, some from the churning, rolling clouds, some from the airship itself. “We’re not gonna withstand an attack from them!”

“No problem!” Stonewall said. “All part of the plan!”

“Bad plan!” Blank curled his legs close. “Very bad plan!”

Two wings of golden-armored Equestrian soldiers barreled out of the clouds to smash into Hurricane’s front ranks. The air became a blur of arrows and spears and feathers, halting their progress towards the taxi.

Stonewall flapped all the harder, determination coloring her features. “Just hold on, guys. Nearly there.”

A report came from the turret. Two Equestrian soldiers dropped with heavy wounds. Three of Hurricane’s warriors fell screaming as their wings were shredded. A moment later, the guns lowered, holding fire until the fighters were clear.

Blankety Blank squinted at the side of the airship. A hatch opened, revealing a heavily armored figure standing tall. The pegasus spread her wings, splitting apart the five sword-length blades on each side. Blank gently patted Care’s shoulder to draw her attention. “H-Hurricane has entered the battlefield.”

Hurricane dove through the clouds, gathering them up in her magical wind. She twisted and turned and generated whirlwind after whirlwind until Cloudsdale had become rapids in the sky.

Hailstones and rain pelted the Equestrian soldiers. Spears found their marks more easily, leaving long scars in their flesh, as blows to the head distracted them. An arrow found its home in Red Leader’s heart. Hurricane spun; her wingblades sought targets and found them, crippling Stone wing’s leader. She held her wings out and called the blades back to their proper place on her armor.

“Same old tricks, sick new methods.” Twilight Velvet slammed a hoof against the arm rest. “There’s got to be something we can do!”

“We have to get to the ship.” Care leaned over the front of the cab. “Especially while she’s busy!”

Stonewall glanced over her shoulder. She winced as another pegasus was impaled on Hurricane’s blades. They’d lost half their number. “You guys have to make it. You have to do it right.”

Care slumped in her seat. They were still several dozen meters away. “They’re gonna catch up.”

Blankety Blank braced himself against the cab’s side. “We’ll be ready for them. We had a g-good head start.”

***

Hurricane looked up. She saw the taxi, bright yellow against the dark clouds. She snarled and angled her flight upward.

She was stopped by a loud report from beneath the clouds.

She looked down. Several more pops greeted her ears. Three of her soldiers fell with gaping wounds in their chests. More crackles resulted in further damage. She looked around for the source, her scar flaming hot.

A wing of griffons broke through the clouds, loading their volleyguns on the fly. They took aim before the pegasi could respond and fired into their ranks. The Equestrian soldiers let out a cheer.

A second wing of five followed and pulled their triggers. A third behind that, and a fourth, all raining death upon Hurricane’s warriors.

The fifth flight was lead by King Andean Ursagryph himself. He drew a long, heavy broadsword with golden markings down the blade. He let out a victorious caw and slammed into Hurricane’s warriors with animal ferocity.

Hurricane screamed and made a bee-line for him.

She dove with wingblades bared. She and the king crossed swords with a clang that was felt above the thunder of the storm. He snarled in the griffon tongue, and she growled back in wordless rage. His blade slid from her feathers and jabbed, seeking her heart.

She went limp and fell away from the tip of his sword. A flick of her wings sent her blades flying towards his chest. A wide sweep of his sword knocked them aside.

She caught the wind and propelled her helmet’s horn into his chest.

He roared and grasped her neck with his talon to prevent her from going deeper. Her blades returned to her and swung forward. His other talon held tight to the hilt of his sword, which he brought against her side. It bounced off of her armor’s shield.

He wrenched himself free and hovered in midair, the wind and his throat howling. He lifted his sword to return to the fight.

She flew around him, her wings beating at a frenzy. The air kicked up around him, gripping his feathers and striking his flesh with bits of ice. He held one talon over his bleeding wound to stanch the blood.

Her blade raked across his back. He howled.

Another jab caught him in the heel. The next struck the tip of his wing. Clouds closed in around him and obscured his vision. He could only see smog and brief flashes of enchanted, magnetized metal.

He raised his sword and roared with all his might. A streak of lightning flashed down and struck the tip, charging the golden metal with untold power. He swung the sword with a crackle, slicing the air with an electric afterimage. It slid along the side of Hurricane’s armor and drove a deep scar into its surface.

She reeled from the force of the blow. She spiraled out of control until she landed headfirst into a dark cloud. She pulled herself up, saw him roaring towards her, and readied her wingblades to throw.

A curved blade met Andean’s halfway. The king looked into the eyes of a traitor. “Lanner!”

“It is the griffon way, my king!” Grenadier Lanner swung his arms out and left himself open. His saber glistened with pony blood. “I challenge you to an honor duel! The winner walks away as the new King of Felaccia! The other is dead!”

“You have no honor to fight for, you maggot!” Andean glanced to either side to see his Blitzwings more than holding their own. He gave Lanner a beastly grin. “I will leave your entrails spread across all Equestria!”

Hurricane settled down on a cloud to catch her breath. Lanner would distract the griffon king long enough for the next wave of warriors to arrive. She surveyed the storm, the perfect hurricane she and her people had constructed. It was nearing cataclysmic proportions. It just needed a little more seeding.

It was already strong enough to lay siege to even the most determined city.

Her shadowy shield thrummed as her armor’s electromagnet sealed her blades to her wings. She nodded with satisfaction as thirty warriors leapt from the Thunderhead’s hatches. They would soon overwhelm the Blitzwings and the remaining Cloudsdale soldiers with superior numbers. Canterlot’s troops would be unable to pierce the storm. All that was left was to finish the current battle.

She watched Lanner and Andean cross blades for a moment, before seeking another target of interest. She spied a taxi that looked so very out of place above a battlefield. She narrowed her eyes. It was suspicious. It needed to be taken care of.

She jumped into flight and made her way through the storm, trailing the otherwise forgotten vehicle.

***

“Last stop!” Stonewall said. “Everypony off!”

The brown canvas of the Thunderhead lay just beneath Care’s position on the taxi. She sucked in a deep breath and jumped. She landed heavily on the ship and dug her hooves in to keep from sliding off. Blank flew down next and helped her to her feet. Twilight Velvet plopped with a complete lack of grace and needed to be hauled onto relatively solid ground by the both of them.

Stonewall detached the taxi and let it break apart in the cacophony. She shot off like an arrow towards the main battle.

Care’s mane danced in the gale. She looked down the length of the envelop to spot the bridge with its lights blazing bright. She grasped the handles of the airship’s upper hatch. “We’ll enter through here. We need to make our way to the engine room, which should be at the rear.”

The lightning rod at the front of the ship blasted forth a bolt that turned an apartment complex to hail and thunder. Care covered her ears at the sudden boom.

“We need to stop that cannon!” Twilight Velvet breathed through her teeth. “I’ll head to the bridge and stop the firing crew. Or at least distract them. The main objective is still the same, but I should be able to handle a few crewmembers.”

“You can’t go alone!” Care ducked a hailstone as it passed by. “Take Blank with you! He’ll watch your back!”

“Y-you can’t go alone either!” Blank snapped.

“I’ve got the best chance of all of us, don’t I?” Care heaved open the hatch. “Once you have the bridge, drive this stupid thing into the ground! If I get the engine first, I’ll blow the whole thing sky-high! Either way, no more Thunderhead.”

The cannon sliced several cloud-spanning bridges in half.

“I’m not gonna argue this!” Care put her hooves on Blank’s shoulders and shook. “Go with Velvet and get that gun out of commission! I’ll meet you there when this bird goes down in flames!”

Blankety Blank snapped his teeth together. He shook his head, but backed away all the same. “Yes, Captain. Wh-whatever you say.”

Twilight Velvet gave him a nod. She looked to Care with a scrunched muzzle. “Don’t you go getting yourself killed either, Captain.”

Care tipped them a salute. “I won’t.”

She swung into the airship, climbing hoof over hoof down the ladder.

Velvet and Blank raced along the envelope until she was close enough for a teleport. “Hold tight!” she said, pulling Blankety close. He squeezed his eyes shut just before the two of them disappeared into a cloud of magical dust.

Hurricane looked between the two routes they had taken. She crawled her way up the side of the airship and stood over the hatch. After a moment’s thought, she pulled it open and stepped inside.

Do

Luna shielded her eyes from a lightning strike just outside the castle walls. The storm had engulfed the entire city. Wind whipped rooftops away. Rain flooded the streets. Hail bludgeoned through windows and walls. Through it all, fire charred everything that was not soaked through.

And still it grew more intense.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty.”

Luna looked down. A soldier approached her, his head bowed. “If we fly into that storm we’ll be shredded in seconds. I feel… I feel that we are of far better use assisting the population with emergency response.”

Wind buffeted the walls in an attempt to tear the castle away from the mountain. Luna hoped it wasn’t possible. “There is no way to pierce the storm?”

“None that we can think of.” He shrugged. “If you have any suggestions…”

“No. Thank you, Captain.” Luna swallowed. “Please go forth and assist the populous. Still, keep your eyes to the sky and seek an opportunity. I do not believe Stonewall’s forces can stop them alone.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” The soldier left down the spiral staircase from the Dream’s Keep, leaving Luna in solitude.

Her balcony door opened into blustery air, held at bay by a shimmering blue shield. Rain pelted the energy sealing her away from the carnage. She looked to the right and spied the shattered mirror that had, not too long ago, held the visage of the villainous Nightmare Moon.

“So I’m to be helpless again?” she said. “Wishing for power I should not have? Agonizing over how past misdeeds have shaped the present?”

She fell silent as another set of hoof taps clambered up her stairwell. She held her head high to address the new arrival. “You may enter.”

Natter wiped his forehead with a pristine clothe even as he bowed. “Your Majesty, I am afraid I bring frightful news.”

Luna scrunched her muzzle. “More frightful than a hurricane the size of Cloudsdale?”

“Princess Twilight Sparkle is missing, Princess.” Natter’s monocle fell from his face. He didn’t bother to replace it. “Time Turner, Daring Do, and Skyhook have gone into the depths of the mountain to find her.”

“Oh.” Luna lowered her head. Her hoof ground into the marble floor. “Oh. Do we know what happened to her?”

“Mr. Turner suspected Dulcimer was responsible.”

“Of course not,” Luna said. “There is no way Twilight would have gone along with—” Her eyes widened. “No. Oh no. I never told her.”

The shards of glass scattered around the broken mirror jingled from the force of her voice. “No! How could I have been so stupid?”

Natter jumped back. His monocle rolled across the floor before he scooped it up. “My lady, I can assure you that she is in the best hooves—”

“I should have been there, Natter!” Her wings flared. She paced back and forth across her observatory, loose feathers fluttering from her back. A tremendous, biting itch spread across her flanks. “I should have been there to help them!”

“But you’re here right now!”

Luna stared at Natter. Her lip curled downward. “What was that?”

Natter shook. He took a deep breath and let it out with a shudder. He made several false starts before finally speaking with a broken voice. “You are here right now. You can do something right now. This… this train of thought isn’t healthy, Princess. You mustn’t abuse yourself in this manner over things you had no control over. Take charge now and make things better.”

Luna held his gaze. When she spoke, she kept her voice cold. “I believe you are correct.”

He let out a sigh of relief.

“I can do something.” Luna turned to the shield holding back the fury of the storm. Her horn glinted.

The shimmer fell away and let the wind in. Natter backed into the stairway as his skin was chilled to the bone. He covered his eyes as freezing spikes of rain threatened to blind him.

Luna stood firm in the face of the storm. She walked towards the balcony with hard eyes. “I shall do something. I shall stop the storm myself. I shall calm the raging hurricane if it kills me!”

Natter held out a hoof. “Luna! Wait!”

She was gone, swallowed up by clouds and darkness.

He let his foreleg drop. “Don’t do it alone.”

Lightning lit the way to the city. She kept her wings tight and dove for one of the squares. She landed beside a crumbled fountain, in the midst of several dismantled market stalls. Shadows of frightened ponies huddled in meager shelter lay just beyond her vision. She cast a shield around herself to block the force of a dozen murderous hailstones.

The clouds swirled overhead, black and all-encompassing. She locked her eyes on the eye of the storm, where the air was at its calmest. Surrounding the eye was the eye wall, the single most vicious part of the storm. Rain became a furious bludgeon, and lightning became a shower of arrows.

Luna pressed her teeth together and focused deep within her chest. She felt her heart pound, churning the nutrients within and converting them to magical energy. If flowed to her hooves, to her wings, and to her horn. She forced a breath from her nose and pressed against the storm.

She touched the wind and twisted it backwards. She grasped the rain and hauled it upwards. She ignited the lighting and pressed it inwards. Powerful though they were, storms were ultimately fragile constructions. The conditions had to be perfect. One small flaw would turn the entire monstrosity in on itself and dissolve it.

She just had to take control of a portion of the storm. She just had to do that one little thing.

The storm pressed back. Her hooves went numb. Her wings fell slack. Her horn buzzed. She was flung bodily across the city square and crashed into the remains of a fruit stand.

She screamed a curse. She brought herself back to her feet, quick to add another charge to her ever-present shield. Hailstones continued their assault, filling the streets with ice. She reached out with all her might once again, and was once again tossed aside.

And again.

And again she fell.

She smashed her hoof into the stone rubble of the fountain. She cried out and clawed at the storm with everything she had. She found herself flattened by the sheer violence of the hurricane.

“I can’t do it alone,” she gasped. She crushed the fountain further beneath her foreleg. “I could never do it alone.”

Her back crawled. Her shadow lay stark against the ground in the light of a thunderbolt. It flowed across the square to rest a velvety wing on her back.

“Oh, Luna,” Nightmare Moon said. “You never had to do anything alone.”

***

Time Turner howled. The spell stabbed deep into the marrow of his bones. He crumpled into a ball of hooves and agony. His skin stretched. His muscles slacked and seized. His eyes burned and his throat grew raw.

Dulcimer smirked as he watched the cylinders fill with magic. “That sensation you feel is every single cell in your body aging rapidly. I’m removing years of your life. I once used it on a metal cord, and it rusted to dust in seconds. How long will you last?”

Daring Do released the crystal she was prying away from Twilight’s cell. She scampered across the cavern. “Time! You let him go you b—!”

Dulcimer released Time from the spell. He turned his attention to Daring and unleashed Sombra’s spell upon the ground. A three-meter-tall wall of spikes ran from one end of the room to the other, blocking her off completely.

Daring’s hooves crashed against the wall. “You freak! You evil freak!”

Twilight Sparkle grasped the loose crystal and rocked it back and forth. Slowly, a centimeter at a time, it pulled out of the ground.

Dulcimer glanced halfheartedly at Time. The earth pony lay on the ground, his coat graying to an unhealthy pallor. “You know,” Dulcimer said, “I could probably save you with this machine. Something tells me you wouldn’t appreciate it.”

Time Turner tried to lift his head. He settled for rolling it to face Dulcimer. “You don’t give a flying feather about undoing the evil you’ve done.”

“I care as much as a person like me is capable of caring.” Dulcimer stepped onto the iron plate and settled in to receive his new power. Energy crackled at the tips of his cylinders. The pooling puddle of ambrosia flowing out of the unicorn tube burned at the edges. “Even you have to admit that compassion gets strained when people lord their morality over you.”

“Your blasted grandmother’s death doesn’t excuse—!”

“You think this is about my grandmother?” Dulcimer chuckled. “The mare’s been dead for two decades. I’m over it. But I haven’t forgotten the lesson I learned.”

Hatches at the top of the cylinders snapped open. A bright shine illuminated the ceiling. Dulcimer tilted his head. “Life is a precious thing. It needs to be protected. Who better to protect it than me?”

Time Turner twisted his lips. “You’re an insane hypocrite.”

Dulcimer clicked his tongue. “Way to label people, Turner.”

He cast his spell and sent its agonizing waves over Time once more.

Time screamed. His hoof-gun fell from his stump as the straps frayed and dissolved. His mane fell out. His heart palpitated.

Daring Do skipped back. She looked to the top of the wall, where razor-sharp shards waited to impale anything that fell from above it. She looked to her wings, which ached with every movement. She looked to Twilight, who still did everything she could to pry her way out of the prison.

“Cuss it,” Daring said. “The things I do for love.”

She took a running leap and flapped her wings. She winced as her entire body protested, as her nerves shouted “No!” She forced magic through her weak fairy strings, pressing against the ground, punching her way upward.

The crystal spikes loomed beneath her like the teeth of a gaping jaw, ready to bite her in half. Another flap of her wings pressed her forward. Her joints burned. Tears squeezed from her eyes. Through the blur, she saw Time writhe.

She let out a shout and dropped to the floor. Dulcimer twisted toward her and ended his spell. He chewed his lip as he prepared another crystal growth to send through her heart.

Her hoof brushed against Time’s gauntlet. She grinned.

With a smooth motion, she clasped it to her foreleg and flicked it on. Dulcimer froze mid-snarl. The energy around the cylinders slowed. Sound fell to muted echoes.

Time Turner smiled her way.

She pulled his three time bombs from her shirt pocket and leapt into action. She wound them as she ran, setting them to go off almost instantly. She circled around and tossed one to the top of each tube. When she was certain they would catch the alicorn magic en route, she turned to Dulcimer.

She lay into him with a strong right hook just as her gauntlet ended its spell. He jolted back, his nose bleeding, as all three bombs went off simultaneously. His spell struck the ceiling and crafted a chandelier of shards.

Daring Do stood over him. Behind her, three magic bubbles stopped his device cold.

“If… you were smart…” Dulcimer groaned. “You would have stayed… on the other side.”

He lashed out with his hind legs. She took a measured step back and avoided the blow completely. She scowled as he got to his hooves. “If you were smart—which you really aren’t—you wouldn’t have tried to woo my niece with three dead bodies in the room.”

Dulcimer shifted to a boxing stance. “Touché.”

He jabbed, and she knocked his hoof aside. He feinted with his left hoof, before launching a hail of purple spikes her way. She ducked beneath them and clobbered his chin with an uppercut that carried him back against the broken cylinder. The ambrosia flowed over his coat and burned.

He launched himself at her. His hoof connected with the side of her head, but her hoof rammed into his already broken nose. She pressed the advantage, throwing her hooves into his chest, his face, and anywhere else she could get an opening.

She caught a glimmer from his horn. She slapped the bone, which caused it to flicker out.

“Daring!” Time wheezed. “It’s his aging spell! Throw away the gauntlet!”

Dulcimer’s hoof caught her left wing. The muscles seized in a cramp that spread through her entire side. “Quit distracting me!”

“No, no, no.” Dulcimer plowed his hoof into her stomach. “He knows I’m just buying time!”

He grasped her shoulders and slammed her against the glass of the earth pony cylinder. She looked up and saw the shield cracking. Crumbling. She had minutes until the magic came to transform anypony who was standing in the circle.

She brought her hooves against his ears. Hard. He reeled as his head rang. She wiped her mouth. “You, buddy…”

She crushed his busted nose with a mean jab.

“Are done.”

Her next punch hit the same spot. He flopped onto his back and lay with his legs sprawled. A tiny whine crawled its way from his throat.

She wrenched the activation switch into the off position. She ran to Time’s side and held his hoof. “Time! Time, you gotta be okay. Please tell me you’re okay.”

He looked up with dim, weary eyes. His wrinkly skin sagged beneath the weight of a frown. “You’re here. That’s what counts. Right?”

“I sure as heck hope so.” Daring smiled, but she couldn’t force herself to look happy. “Look. Rest for now. I’m gonna tie this creep up and get Twilight free. You just… You just sit tight.”

He reached up with his foreleg and touched her mane. She brought her lips close for a short, tender kiss.

A loud cough, full of blood, came from behind them. Daring Do swung around, her hooves at the ready to fight.

Dulcimer’s face was a mess of blood and bruises. He couldn’t even see straight, with one eye staring blindly into the distance. His ear twitched as he pulled down the activation lever. “Idiots.”

The shields shattered, the magic flowed, and three sets of lightning—one purple, one yellow, and one blue—lanced down to strike him through the heart.

The unicorn tube, the one cracked by the volleygun slug, exploded.

***

Rarity trudged through the basement of her store. Her hooves waded through three-inch-deep water, and the level was rising. “Well, this is certainly a terrible place to keep the guests.”

“Top floor lost the roof,” Rainbow Dash said, hovering over the basin even though her coat was already soaked. “Store front’s toast and open to the air. I think it’s time to move out, Rarity.”

Rarity growled in the back of her throat. “And here I didn’t think to insure against terrorist attacks.”

Rainbow Dash gave her a half-grin. “That’s almost funny.”

“I’m not joking.” Rarity shook her hooves out as she hopped up the stairs. “Mostly.”

Rainbow Dash landed at the top of the stairs and addressed the patrons. “Everypony listen up! Everyone who can carry somebody needs to get a move on. This place is caput and we’re headed to someplace safer.”

“Rainbow Dash…” Rarity spoke through her teeth to whisper into Rainbow’s ear. “Just where are we going?”

“I’m thinking,” Rainbow hissed. “The palace is too far, and the whole darn block is burning.”

Rarity shivered as a fresh wind howled through the broken window, carrying drenching rain with it. “Well, heaven help us all, does anypony have any suggestions?”

The far wall groaned. The ceiling bowed as water poured between holes in the woodwork. Rainbow Dash yelped and flew up to push her shoulders against a crack in the rafters. “Everypony run! Get out of here! She’s coming down!”

“The back door!” Rarity shouted. She flung the door open from across the room. “There’s shelter in the alley! Keep your heads low!”

As they left, she sent a spell running through the wood. It touched one side of the fractured beam and pressed it against the other. Her magic did its work quickly, sealing the two halves of the whole together.

Rainbow Dash let it go and moved to hold up a different section of the ceiling. “Get out of here, Rarity. We can’t fix it like this. You need to get out!”

“Well then let’s leave together!” Rarity stomped a hoof. “I’m not going without you!”

“Not asking you to…” Rainbow squeezed her eyes shut. “But this is really heavy.”

Water gushed through a hole to her left. The wood became unbalanced on her back and threw her aside. “Crud—!”

Rarity grabbed her in a spell and dragged her down to the floor. She wrapped her foreleg around Rainbow’s shoulders and tugged her. “Let’s go before my livelihood becomes the death of me!”

Rainbow Dash nodded. They set off towards the rear entrance.

The doorway caved in. The roof crumbled. The two of them skidded to a halt and ran back the way they came, towards the shattered front window.

Rarity screeched. The wood beam she had repaired shattered completely. It rained down, followed by plaster and water. She covered her eyes. Rainbow Dash glanced up, gasped, and shoved Rarity aside.

The weight of a building landed on Rainbow Dash’s back all at once.

Rarity howled through her teeth as the far end of the beam crushed her left rear leg. Rain fell freely into her showing room. Her mane plastered against her face. Blood mingled with streams of water. “Rainbow! Help!”

She looked across. “Rainbow?”

Rainbow Dash lay beneath the pile of wood, her coat white from the crumbled plaster. Deep cuts covered her back. Her nose sat in a puddle.

Rarity couldn’t see her chest moving. “Rainbow!”

A hailstone left an indent in the floor beside Rarity. She shrieked and tugged her leg from under the board. Her muscles and bones stung and ached all at once. The words came hard as she dragged herself to her friend’s side. “Be alright! Please be alright! Wake up!”

She reached out to cradle Rainbow Dash’s head, but thought better of it. If there was a spinal injury, she didn’t want to make it worse. She turned her eyes to the rubble. She lit her horn and grasped the top layer, and slowly dug Rainbow out piece by piece.

She slapped a puddle. “Really, Rainbow Dash? You’re going to die now, after all we’ve been through? You’re going to let a dumb building be the end of you? I think not! I shan’t allow your story to be postscripted in such a dismal way!”

She heard a beastly howl from the storm. She looked up, afraid of what demon might fly from the shadows. Instead of a monster, she saw a bright light, shining blue in the night. It was a bubble of magic; a shield. It surrounded the familiar form of a particular alicorn princess.

Luna screamed at the storm, her horn glowing white. The spell she was casting popped, with the force throwing her back several meters. She scrambled to her hooves and tried again, with the same results.

Rarity looked up. Every time Luna reached out, the clouds sparkled with a faint blue glow. The magic winked out just as she was rejected. “My word. She’s trying to grab the storm?”

Rarity went back to removing the debris from Rainbow’s back. “She has to succeed. We both do!”

***

Lanner’s blade slid from Andean’s. He struck again only to have it ricochet from the steel surface. Andean backed away, his movements slowed by the hole in his chest. It had missed his heart, but he feared there was something wrong with his lung. It was getting hard to breath.

The smaller griffon swooped around, dragging the tip of his single-edged saber along Andean’s side. A thin line of blood traced his movement.

Andean swung wide, his eyes glaring daggers. Lanner ducked beneath the blow and jabbed his sword into Andean’s stomach. The king yanked himself away with a flap of his wings so that it barely broke the surface of his skin.

Lanner waved his sword around at the surrounding combatants. “Nearly seventy to almost forty. This battle is over, Andean.”

“It’s over—” Andean pressed his talon harder against his wound. “—when you fall lifeless to the ground!”

Lanner lunged, but fell short when Andean brought his sword down. He climbed higher. “As king,” Lanner said, “I will have to take a wife. Perhaps I shall wait a few years until Corona is old enough? I’m sure she would adore stories of how her brave father died in battle—”

“No!” Andean thrust his broadsword upwards in a furious attempt to skewer Lanner.

It was the opening the traitor was waiting for. He leaned to the side and avoided the blade completely. He drove the tip of his saber deep into Andean’s shoulder. He twisted.

Andean’s scream became something between the roar of a bear and the screech of a condor. His left arm went limp and flopped against his side. He brought his broadsword up and around, but by the time it reached Lanner, the smaller griffon had already flown away.

The clumsy swing threw Andean off balance. Lanner flitted to his back and slashed with his curved blade. He struck three times before Andean was able to bright his sword to bear.

“Andean,” Grenadier Lanner said, “you look tired. Perhaps it is finally time to sleep?”

Andean roared and sliced. Lanner deflected the slowed attack easily.

The griffon king’s wings beat sluggishly. His heart raced. Every muscle in his body ached. “You… won’t… touch her.”

“Certainly not until she’s of age.” Lanner shrugged. “It wouldn’t be proper.”

Andean brought his wings down in a powerful stroke that launched him at the traitor. He thrust his sword and grazed Lanner’s rear leg.

Lanner brought his sword down on Andean’s wing joint. The king lost control and spiraled downward. The ground swirled in the opposite direction of the clouds. He reached out with his hind legs and caught the edge of the eye wall. The force of the storm jolted him higher, giving him enough time to grasp the air with the magic in his wings.

The clouds before him slowed in their inexorable journey around the eye. They shimmered with a faint blue glow. It felt familiar. Pony magic. A specific pony’s magic. It winked out a second later, and the clouds returned to their whirlwind pace.

Andean glared up to see Lanner twirling his blade. Teasing him. Mocking him. “If this battle is to be won, Princess,” Andean said, “I suppose it would have to be fought together.”

***

Twilight Velvet and Blankety Blank blinked into existence in the midst of the bridge. Five ponies looked their way, three at various consoles, and two of them hefting volleyguns. The armed ponies jerked their weapons downward.

“Whoops,” Velvet said. “Wrong floor.” She vanished in a cloud of sparks.

The ponies swiveled their guns. One felt a tap on their shoulder. He raised an eyebrow and found her smiling at him. “Made you look.”

She grasped the gun in her hooves and smashed his nose in with a headbutt. She kicked his legs out from under him and sent him to the floor. She held the volleygun’s spear point at his throat. “Anypony moves, I fire!”

The other guard hiccupped. Blank leaped on his back and sunk his fangs into the pony’s neck. The pony screamed and kicked, but was unable to get free. Within moments, he was unresponsive and quiet.

“That was…” Velvet cringed. “Violent.”

“H-he moved.” Blankeyt Blank hefted the second volleygun. “Get the lightning c-cannon out of commission.”

Twilight Velvet left the conscious guard shaking under Blank’s watchful eye and marched over to the ship’s wheel. The helmspony sat tall, her face smug. Outside, the ship’s cannon blasted through the wall of a skyscraper.

“Shut it down, clown.” Velvet shook the volleygun. “Shut it down or tell me how! I’m through with you featherbrains taking lives!”

The helmspony grinned wider. “You can’t. I can’t either. You lose, popsicle-head.”

“I am able to physically rip you in two!” Twilight Velvet shouted. She rolled her eyes. “And that’s disgusting. But I will shoot you if you continue to be a problem.”

She menaced the other crewmembers with the barrel of her gun. “How about you? Anybody who wants to opt out of shutting off the dadgum cannon gets a one-way ticket to the garbage chute.”

“We can’t shut it off, ma’am,” one of the ponies said. “In emergencies, the standard procedure on airships is to switch control to the auxiliary bridge. We’re completely cut off.”

“What?” Twilight Velvet grabbed the ship’s wheel and gave it a spin. Nothing happened. “We can’t even steer the dumb thing? Whose idea was this?”

“Um…” The helmspony leaned far to the side. “I think your changeling ate him.”

“D-drained him,” Blank said. “He’ll be fine in a couple days. Maybe weeks. A year, tops.”

“Everypony shaddap.” Velvet pricked the helmspony in the ribs. “Where’s the second bridge? I hope to the Creator that it’s actually on the airship.”

The helmspony shook her head. “I’m not gonna tell you. You’re not gonna be alive long enough to need to know.”

The conscious pony beside Blank hopped to his hooves and grabbed the changeling. The others circled around Velvet and attached spurs to their hooves. She took a step and turned, but she was already surrounded.

The helmspony jumped, her spur ready to strike. “For Equestria—!”

She landed chest-first onto Velvet’s volleygun. Shock stretched her face as her last breath left her.

Velvet gritted her teeth. Her eyes grew wet. “Stupid.”

The others charged. Velvet pulled the blade from the pony’s chest, and brought the butt against another’s throat. As he fell gasping and choking, she twirled it and clocked the third on the head with the metal head of the volleygun.

Blank sunk his teeth into the guard’s foreleg. Once the pain took hold, he slipped out of the guard’s loosened grip and flipped him head-over-tail. A firm punch to the chest took the wind out of him.

“You stupid fools!” Velvet screamed. “Look outside! Look at it!”

She dropped the volleygun and sent magic to her horn. She dragged them by their ears to the window and pressed their faces against the glass. “Do you understand what you’ve done? Do you see what you’re trying to do? It’s a waste! It’s worthless! It’s less than worthless! You’re destroying cities, murdering people, and for what?”

One of the ponies whined. “For a free Equestria.”

“Free from what?” Velvet smacked the helm. “Free from peace? Free from long lives? Free from bad hoagies—What? What could possibly be worth all of this?”

“Free from fear,” the pony said, “that Celestia would abuse her power and burn the world. She has too much control. It needs to be spread out among the ponies.”

“Oh. I see. Democracy.” Velvet nodded. “Freedom to chose. A great thing. A wonderful goal to strive for.”

She slapped him. “This isn’t a noble, holy crusade, you slimy green road apple! Those aren’t soldiers you’re killing with that cannon! Those aren’t tactical locations you’re demolishing! You’re not fighting a war! You’re killing families in their own homes!”

She moved away from them and released them from her grip. “It’s my family out there. My home. How many more lives do you have to waste before it gets through to you?”

Sour and bitter combined to flow into Blankety’s horn. His stomach churned from his proximity to her. He waved a volleygun. “T-tell us where the other bridge is. Now.”

The three remaining conscious, living crewmembers looked at each other. Two shook their heads, but one spoke up. “It’s in the engine room. In a small enclosure with some sound-proofing spells—”

“Orange Marmalade!” One of the warriors grabbed the pony’s foreleg. “You’re betraying—”

“There are five ponies there.” Orange Marmalade lowered his ears. “They’ll be ready, since they know we’re under attack. We sent a message when you showed up.”

“That’s where Care’s g-going… She won’t be ready for them.” Blankety Blank rubbed his chitinous exoskeleton. “I sh-should help her. Can you guard them?”

Velvet hefted her volleygun. “Do you have the rope?”

They made quick work of restraining the warriors. Velvet sat by the door as Blank disappeared down the hatch into the interior of the aircraft. She kept two eyes on the prisoners, but listened intently for sounds of battle.

“Orange Marmalade,” one of the ponies whispered. “You traitor! The Mother herself is gonna hear about this—”

“Chill out,” Orange said. “It’s all going according to plan.”

The other pony raised their eyebrow. “I don’t get it. What’s gotten into you?”

“I know something—” Orange Marmalade grinned. “—that they don’t know.”

He flicked his ear towards the window. “I saw Commander Hurricane herself enter the airship. They don’t stand a chance.”

***

“Your sister cannot stop the storm,” the Ba’al rumbled. “And your friends on the airship will fall one after another.”

Celestia kept her eyes trained on the windows to the outside world. She saw Hurricane, stalking through the bowels of the Thunderhead. She saw Luna, trying and failing to quell the whirlwind. She saw the Cloudsdale guard get torn apart piece by tiny piece. She saw the two cities fall apart as one.

“You are lost.” The Ba’al twisted his talons through the murk. “You have nothing to fight for. No grand victory to pull from the wreckage of your kingdom.”

Celestia’s muscles tensed. She winced as Luna was hurled away from the storm yet again. A darkness crept over her sister, tantalizing and terrifying. Celestia could tell that Luna was doing her best to ignore it, but as alone as she was…

“You are left alone, Celestia.” The Ba’al’s throne loomed into view, a vicious construction of black stone and horrific carvings. Chimeras, hydras, grotesques, and cockatrices tangled together to form the back of the chair and the armrests. The green eyes parted the mist as he leaned forward. “With nothing but darkness and death to keep you company.”

Celestia lifted her eyes to him. She saw a broad, chiseled chest. Red fur coated his torso and turned black as it reached his limbs. Feathery wings adorned his back. A spear was clutched in his left talon, while the right gripped the armrest of his throne. Large horns framed his bull-like head.

Celestia stumbled back. At first it had looked like a red coat, but with a second look, she realized that the monster was burning.

The Ba’al pressed his hind legs, which ended in hooves, against the invisible, illusionary floor. The giant, winged, fiery bull lifted himself from his seat and pointed his spear at the chaotic visions of the battle. “Watch closely, Celestia! I want you to know the pain you shall feel! I want you to know the disaster you shall awake to! I want you to know what I am capable of!”

He returned to his seat and clanged the butt of his spear. “I want you broken and lying at my feet. How much shall you suffer before we reach that point?”

***

Captain Care Carrot eased her way along the walkway. It was held aloft by thin cords that attached at the roof and sides, holding it steady. The first of four massive gasbags loomed before her, encased in a metal framework. She looked over the side to see a couple more walkways running alongside and around the bag. Below that was the canvas of the underside of the Thunderhead’s envelope.

She kept her horn charged with a simmering pink light. The thrum of the engines rose as she continued her trek to the rear. The wind beat the canvas, and the gasbags flexed. A crackle signaled that the lightning cannon had fired again.

The airship was empty. Abandoned. She had expected to fight her way to the engine room, not have an evening stroll. It seemed that Hurricane didn’t have as many warriors as they thought. That was good. That meant they might actually stand a chance.

The walkway above her stirred. The airship rumbled. Care glanced up and strained her ears, but found no sign of hoof steps. It must have been the wind.

She peered around a corner, leaning against the gasbag’s framework. Empty skies ahead. She stepped into the open area between the bags, a long stretch of staggered metal mesh walkways.

She placed one foot forward and stopped. Metal scraped against metal behind her. She threw herself onto the walkway.

Hurricane’s leg-length wingblades flew above her. They halted in midair and retraced their paths, connecting once more with her armor. Care turned and saw the red glowing eyes inside the commander’s helmet.

“Nice look,” Care said. “Suits you.”

Hurricane flew forward, and Care raised her hooves. The blades on the commander’s boots sparked as they met the enchantment on Care’s armor. She held her ground, pushing against the commander with all her might.

Commander Hurricane struck her metallic horn against Care’s head. The captain lost her balance and tumbled off the walkway. The next platform caught her with a clang.

Care flipped onto her hooves. She hopped back just before Hurricane stabbed through the walkway with her wingblades. She brought the side of her hoof against the commander’s muzzle. Their force fields screamed as they clashed.

Hurricane wrenched her blades from the mesh and threw a punch at Care. Captain Carrot shoved it aside and kicked out once, twice, thrice, hitting Hurricane in the chest each time. The commander brought her hooves up in a flurry, swinging her wings to catch Care off guard. Care backed away slowly, but her hooves moved like lightning, blocking, redirecting, jabbing, and chopping.

Commander Hurricane leaped into the air and spread her wings to their full span. She launched all ten wingblades with a snap.

Care wrinkled her brow. Her horn blazed from pink to pure white. Fire burst from the magic in her body, shooting upwards and outwards. It hit Hurricane with an explosion of force.

A blade hit her side with enough force to peel part of her armor away. The rest clattered to the walkway and fell to the envelope.

Hurricane spread her wings and called the blades. Midway to their nesting place, she flew forward and circled around Care. Her magic crafted currents in the air, swirling and raging. Dust raged around Care, choking her and stinging against the gap in her armor.

The blades followed Hurricane and edged closer to Care’s body.

She poured ounce after painful ounce of magic into her horn. She felt the tingle reach from the bottom of her hooves to the tip of her tail. Her heart pounded as her fairy strings strained. Fire licked the tip of her horn. A blade grazed her back.

She released it in a single, violent burst of flame. Scorching heat engulfed her and pushed the blades away. The decompression of air eliminated Hurricane’s attempted whirlwind. The commander landed head-first against the gasbag. Lighter-than-air gas leaked from a puncture in the lining.

Care’s knees knocked. She stalked forward, her hooves ready to battle. “Is that all you got? Come on! Come on!”

Commander Hurricane stood up. She extended her wings. Her blades zipped from across the room to meet her. “Only a fool charges to death so eagerly.”

“I guess that’s a problem we’ll have to work through.” Care snapped her teeth. “Together!”

Captain Care Carrot and Commander Hurricane charged at full speed, weapons at the ready, their magic flashing in the low light.

Blank

The last cinders fell around Daring Do, littering the ground with orange and red coals. Her mane fell over her face as she looked back to see Dulcimer’s horrendous device engulfed in flames. Despite the damage, the magic still glittered. The flow from the unicorn cylinder crackled wildly, passing through the devastated, ashen fairy strings. The power leaped into the air to join the other two sources and entered Dulcimer’s heart.

His fairy strings shone golden through his skin. They traced their way throughout his body, etching lines in his hooves, back, and horn. He hunched over, his breath coming slow and hot. He moaned and arched his back, leaning against an unbroken cylinder. A new bone growth jutted from his spine, wreathed in pulsating fairy strings.

“Oh gosh.” Daring Do shook Time. “How do we stop this? How do we reverse it or whatever?”

“I don’t know.” Time Turner scrunched his face as aches wracked his chest. “I—I wouldn’t try to get close to him. Who knows what those beams would do to you?”

“Turn me into the Alicorn Princess of History?” Daring Do grasped at his prosthetic. “Shoot him! Just shoot the—”

“Wait.” Time grabbed her shoulder. “Look.”

Daring Do’s heart plummeted. Dulcimer’s face healed right before her eyes—punch by punch, broken bone by abrasion. Even his teeth were nice. “So, not gonna work.”

Dulcimer’s voice cracked as feathers sprouted from his new limb. “Shut up!”

A spark of magic struck Daring Do and Time, throwing them against the ground. Daring sat up and rubbed the burnt patch on her shoulder. “Oh, gosh, that sucked.”

Time lay back, his eyes glazed, his heart beating an irregular rhythm. Tears traced his wrinkles. “Daring…”

“You two are about to witness history,” Dulcimer laughed. “The birth of a new alicorn prince, and the creation of stable time travel!”

His horn glowed. Across the room, the metal archway came to life. Energy climbed the pillars and met at Time Turner’s prototype gemstone. A casing clamped over the stone and sealed the dangerous magic from the outside world. The electrodes zapped the empty air, gaining steam.

“He’s gonna change the past!” Daring punched the floor. “He’s gonna be freaking impossible to beat! We need to do something now!”

An unholy shriek ripped through the air as a hole appeared in reality. Time and space bent inwards, transforming into a quagmire of light and sound. The arch became a doorway into nothingness.

Time lifted his head. Through weary eyes, he spotted the gemstone’s glow through the seams in the casing. “My—my prototype. That’s the key.”

Dulcimer fell to his knees. The other side of his back sprouted the final appendage: A skeletal parody of an alicorn’s wing.

“Before he notices.” Time’s throat stung with every breath. “If we destroy the crystal, the magic channel will be broken. The power will backfire.”

Daring Do scowled. “With how much power is flowing through that, the feedback could vaporize the whole… room…” Her wings spread out. “And Dulcimer’s garbage with it.” She threw a hoof towards the wall of crystal shards. “And us.”

“I still have one time-bomb left.” Time Turner patted his breast pocket. “Just enough to shield us from a cataclysmic detonation.”

Daring Do nodded, casting a glance to the ever-screaming Dulcimer. “So we gotta break the crystal, get the three of us together, and blow the time bomb before we all become atoms. Cakewalk. Problem is there’s a shield over the gemstone, and a maniac who’s got a time-stop spell.”

“Manual override.” Time pressed his hoof against his chest. He chewed his tongue and jerked his head at the time machine. “Get over there and pull it loose. I’ll shoot it from here. You have to already be clear when the ball hits because it’ll be deadly nearly instantly.”

“Uh huh.” Daring tilted her head. “And how do we do that without ‘Growing Pains’ over there noticing?”

Time’s hoof traced down her foreleg. He rested it against the gauntlet. “Tell me, Daring; can you run faster than a volleygun ball?”

Daring Do swallowed. She favored him with a devilish grin. “Today? For you? You’re darn right I can.”

***

Hurricane’s blades sparked against Care’s armor. She flipped with every other movement, bringing both her wings close enough to strike. Everywhere Care looked there were razor-sharp blades ready to cut or pierce. She retreated speedily, her hooves raised to shrug off glancing blows.

She coated the walkway with fire, but a beat of Hurricane’s powerful wings extinguished the spell. The commander leaped for a sword-tipped headbutt, and crossed horns with Care. The two of them rose to their hind legs, Hurricane trying to shove her from the ledge, Care pushing to remain standing.

Care kicked out with both forehooves. She shoved Hurricane’s legs a side and bucked her right in the chest. With the commander’s balance upset, Care used her newfound leverage to jolt her. She backpedaled around the side of the third gasbag—the one before the rearmost bag—and kept her eyes on her opponent.

Hurricane soared around the other side of the bag to come up behind Care. When the unicorn came into view, she let three blades loose. Care kicked one away, but one struck her in the shoulder. The force of the blow carried her against the bag’s lining, just below where the third blade sliced through the canvas.

She held her breath and ran from the leakage. The gas was already causing the corners of her vision to cloud. The fire licking the mesh on the catwalk winked out as the oxygen in the atmosphere was overwhelmed by the fumes.

Care fired a ball of flame at Hurricane. “You’re gonna sink your own ship with tactics like that!”

Hurricane dropped like a rock onto Care’s back. The hooks on her boots dug between her armor’s shoulder plates. “This ship can fly with a single gasbag, half-full. A minor puncture or two shall not harm it.”

She drew her wingblades back. “You, though—”

Care held her head up and cast a thin, concentrated beam of heat. It shot past Hurricane’s face. The commander pushed herself away, giving Care an opportunity to launch her right shoulder into Hurricane’s lower jaw. Their armors’ shields crackled with shadows and light. Care bucked the commander’s wing with her hind legs. The wingblades clattered loose and fell to the bottom walkway.

She turned on her hind legs and thrust her hoof at Hurricane’s throat. She connected and struck again, this time hitting her chin. Each blow tested the strength of the commander’s armor, and each blow rattled Care’s teeth. She pressed magic into her horn, narrowing her focus into a single, metal-liquefying point.

Hurricane’s wing snapped out and caught Care below the chin. The beam went wild, slicing through the catwalk’s supports. The rickety platform swung back and forth.

The commander swung her two remaining wingblades and sliced through the meshwork. She jumped and rolled, the disk on her back spinning, and her wingblades jumped from their scattered positions. With stinging clangs, they met with Hurricane in the air.

Care crouched to keep her footing on the swaying walkway. The disk rotated every time the blades flew back to Hurricane. It was locked into the armor, but a solid blow might damage it. She glanced around for a ladder up to the higher walkway. There weren’t any.

She held on tight to the side of the walkway. “Dumb griffons. Not everybody can fly—”

Hurricane dove at her, wings prepared to slice, horn ready to stab.

Care screamed and threw herself to the side. The tips of Hurricane’s blades scored her armor, but the main brunt of the attack severed the walkway’s supports. The meshwork bent under her weight and snapped apart at the seam. Care ran for all her legs were worth to the next set of supports. Her hoof grasped the edge, and the broken walkway tumbled to the canvas below.

She hauled herself up with a grunt. Her strong legs pumped as she raced for cover. She could hear Hurricane slice the supports behind her one by one. She couldn’t afford to watch her do it, not with her survival depending on her speed. She packed fire into a tight ball and dropped it between her legs. It flashed behind her with a delayed poomf. Hurricane cursed.

Care Carrot reached the gasbag and ran up the curved lining. Just before gravity called her downward, she jumped from the surface. Her momentum carried her head-over-tail. Hurricane looked up, her helmet’s glowing eyes bulging, as Care dropped onto her back.

The assassin smashed face-first into the meshwork. With no way to stop, they slid across the catwalk and launched into open air. Hurricane opened her wings and tried to catch the air with her magic, but Care seized her foe’s neck. They crashed into the canvas of the Thunderhead’s outer envelope.

They fell apart as they rolled to the bottom of the cigar-shaped craft. Hurricane dug her boot-blades into the material. She stumbled when Care tugged on her hind legs. She kicked, and was rewarded with the sound of her hoof resounding against Care’s helmet.

Care bit down on her tail and yanked. Pain shot up Hurricane’s spine. She spread her wings and screeched. The disk on her back whirred.

With her mouth full of Hurricane’s tail, Care squinted one eye, took aim at the assassin’s back, and shot a flame as tight and as hot as a welder’s torch. It traced up Hurricane’s back, pools of metal dripped from the armor, until it reached the electromagnet.

When the fire hit the disk, there was a painful, piercing snap. All Care could see was white.

***

Twilight Sparkle gave the spike a mighty heave. It tore away from the stone and dirt, its tip shattering against the floor. She squeezed through the gap, her hooves bloodied from the sharp crystal growth. She picked up the separated shard, just to have something to defend herself with.

She flew over the wall of Sombra’s crystals and beheld the chaotic mess. Time lay back, his body ravaged by time. Daring Do hovered over him, speaking with his in hushed whispers. Dulcimer let loose horrific growls as his body twisted and split.

At the far end of the room, Dulcimer had set the Grimoire Alicorn on a podium. Twilight fluttered up to it and grasped it with her wings. She held it close, like the national treasure she was sure it had to be. With that taken care of, she looked to the cylinders. There had to be a way to shut them off. Wasn’t there?

Time Turner held the hoof-gun tight. He aimed it at the archway. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah.” Daring set the gauntlet to run for two seconds. She tapped the side of the device. “Doesn’t this thing last any longer?”

“That’s about the moment people start to notice you moving around.” Time waved her closer. “We’ll press the buttons at the same moment. On my mark.”

“On your mark.” Daring Do danced on her hooves. “This is really risky. I like it.”

Time unlatched the safety. “Three…”

Daring touched the ignition. “Two…”

“One…” Time yanked the trigger back. “Mark!”

The world became a thick haze around Daring. The gun’s explosion echoed as if it were underwater, muted and muddled. The magic pouring into the time machine wriggled and writhed. She took off at a gallop.

The ball zipped over her shoulder. She checked its course; Time’s aim was spot-on. She increased her speed to a dead run.

She tried not to look into the vortex within the machine. Strange shapes flashed into view. Horrified faces. She could have sworn she saw Ahuizotl out of the corner of her eye. Her parents, long dead, screamed in ghostly voices. Martial Paw shouted her name. Dead friends, living friends, and ponies she had never met before all spoke at once.

Her hooves grasped the metal framework. She hauled herself step over step to the top, where the gemstone sat encased in its shield. It was held in place by strong clamps, but the rear was a simple pin hinge. “Engineer he ain’t.”

She grasped one edge of the pin and twisted the cap. It resisted, but her muscles bulged. Bit by bit, it turned, unscrewing and snapping away from the hinge. She balanced along the tip of the archway and eased herself to the other side. The projectile was halfway to her.

Daring placed her hooves to the sides of the pin’s head and gave it a tug. A long, grinding screech echoed from the hinge. The metal bit into her hooves. She blew between her lips and pulled again. “Grr—come on, move! Move!”

The ball moved much faster than the pin.

She gave the incoming slug a glance. Three-quarters of the way. She was out of luck.

She straddled the top of the arch and jammed the gauntlet between the pinhead and the edge of the hinge. She wiggled her hoof and found leverage. She bent the gauntlet. The pin moved faster. She kicked out with her hind legs and sent a jolt through the framework. The grind became a squeak as the pin slid out of the hinge.

Daring took a deep breath, grasped the top of the shield, and hurled herself over the side. The enclosure came with her, pulled away by her weight. The volleygun slug hit its target, shattering the surface of the gemstone. Magic snatched the edges of Daring’s mane and tail. “Oops.”

She took off as fast as her legs could move, as the archway shuddered behind her. Within the space of a second, the metal support bowed and burst, sparked and screamed, crunched and crackled. Lightning arced to strike the ground beside Daring.

The gauntlet beeped, returning her to normal speed. She stopped beside Time Turner and hefted him onto her back. “Let’s get to Sparkle!”

Dulcimer flinched away as his time machine burst into a flaming ball of wreckage. His jaw dropped. His eyes shone white as power collected in his horn. “No!”

Twilight Sparkle tore herself away from the detonating spectacle. Her eyes fell to Daring and Time, both exhausted and hurt. They leapt to Dulcimer, whose spell was sure to wipe them from existence. She couldn’t stop him with a spell, or distract him with words. There wasn’t time to think.

She drove the crystalline shard into the side of his head.

The glow faded from his eyes. He looked at her, his eyebrows high, his ears flat. Her heart felt as though it collapsed in on itself.

“Twieee…” Dulcimer fell to his rump, then tumbled to his side.

Twilight covered her mouth. Bile rose as her stomach flipped. Her vision swam until all she could see was the shard and the wound.

A strong hoof jerked her back. “Stay close!” Daring said. “She’s gonna blow!”

Dulcimer lifted his head. “Don’ go…”

Daring threw the time bomb to the ground. It encased her, Twilight, and Time Turner in a bubble of magic, freezing them in their place.

Outside the bubble, every single atom in the room was rearranged in an explosion of magic and space-time. The murk and mayhem swirled around the three protected ponies, seeking purpose and form, but finding none. At long last, it succumbed to the laws of reality and settled as a thick blanket of dust.

The bubble cracked and shattered. Twilight hurled and broke down into silent sobs.

Daring Do rubbed her between the wings. “It’s okay, Sparkle. Let it out. There’s nothing in there you need to hold back.”

She looked up and saw something through the cloud of ashes. “Holy—” It was the full skeleton of an alicorn stallion, fused into a single formation of calcium. A crystal spike jutted out from the side of its skull. Hairline fractures ran over its surface. Tiny pieces fell off, one by one, until the entire thing shattered under its own weight.

Twilight puked again.

“I guess that goes to show just how much damage an alicorn can survive.” Daring Do shook the dust out of her tail. “At least one made by this crazy contraption. What do you say, Time? Shall we skip this joint?”

She turned her head to look at the stallion on her back. “Time?”

He looked at her through lidded eyes. He mumbled something under his breath.

Daring Do brought her hoof to his cheek and stared into his eyes. She touched his forehead. “No. No, come on, Time.” She shook Twilight’s shoulder. “Up! We aren’t done yet. We need to get out of this stupid place.”

She marched towards an open tunnel, hoping against hope that it was a way out. “Come on! We need to get Time to the hospital!”

***

Andean hovered over a plummet to the city miles below. The hurricane had moved while the battle raged. The eye wall neared the castle, and was sure to demolish it. His warriors and the ponies fighting alongside them were sorely outnumbered. His injuries were dragging him down. He was past hoping for a miracle.

Lanner laughed in his face. “If you surrender, I shall slay you swiftly!”

Andean growled and stabbed at the traitor. The younger griffon flitted aside. “It’s impressive you can still lift that sword. A lesser being would be dead by now.”

The two halves of the king’s beak ground together. “Do not forget… who is the better griffon here…”

Lightning lanced behind him. Luna’s magic gripped the clouds, more forcefully than ever, but faded just as quickly. The hilt of Andean’s sword squeaked as he dug his talons into it. “If you are so ready to rule, then end it, traitor.”

He lowered his broadsword. His sword hand mirrored his limp left arm. “Take the finishing blow, if you believe that to be your destiny. Take it if you truly believe you shall woo my daughter. Take it if you think yourself worthy to be the king of Felaccia. Cease your prattle and slay me!”

Lanner twirled his saber. “A tempting offer. I accept.”

He shot forward and plunged his sword into Andean’s stomach. He grinned up at the king and shifted his grip to twist. The broadsword fell from Andean’s talon.

With the speed of a bird of prey, Andean snapped his talon around Lanner’s neck. The traitor had time for a gasp before his air was cut off completely. Andean’s tendons pulled taut as he squeezed. His arm shook from the force.

Lanner reached up and scraped at Andean’s talons. He drew blood, but nothing could reduce the king’s grip.

“You would never be worthy to rule,” Andean said. “You would never be destined to take the throne. You would never be fit to so much as look upon my children.”

Lanner’s eyes bulged. His legs kicked feebly.

“Do you know why I am strong, Lanner?” he asked. “I have to be to protect my daughters. To make sure the world they grow up in is secure, and good, and hopeful. I am more powerful than any pegasus commander, or dark god, or wicked traitor, because I have something to fight for outside of myself. I have something to lose.”

He crushed the last of the life from Lanner. “And it is something I absolutely refuse to give up.”

He let the grenadier’s body be sucked into the storm. He looked down at the blade protruding from his stomach. He felt lightheaded.

Strong talons grasped him from either side. He turned to see two Blitzwings under his forelegs, holding him up. “Your Grace,” one said, “we’ll get you to the ground. We’ll handle these monsters.”

Andean shook his head. “No. I have to keep fighting. I have to protect… Corona… Stella…”

When he opened his eyes, there were no Blitzwings. Was that a pony lifting him? Were they both ponies, or was he just confused?

“Stella and Corona need their poppa,” a female voice said. “We’ll get you to ground. They’ll find you there.”

Andean wrinkled his forehead. His vision faded to black. “Who are you?”

“My name is Ribbon Wishes,” the voice said. “Rest now, Andean. Rest.”

***

The world came into clarity around Care Carrot. She had been thrown to her back. The disk sat above her nose, half its diameter embedded in the airship’s metal framework. “Holy…”

A rage-filled shriek sent a chill down her spine. She lifted her head to see Hurricane screaming and clawing at her helmet. The commander wrenched it off and tossed it across the canvas.

Hurricane’s hooves kicked her blades and scattered them. She spread her wings to call them back into position. She stood like that for too long, the pace of her breath picking up. She kicked a wingblade and thrust her wings out a second time.

Her head snapped towards Care. Blood oozed from her scar. Her eyes were no longer cold, but hot and seething. She bared her teeth and screamed.

Care Carrot clenched her jaw. “Oh boy.”

Hurricane launched herself at Care. The hooks on her boots flashed. She struck, and Care knocked the hoof aside. The commander clawed furiously, each swipe seeking a vital part of Care’s body. Captain Carrot jerked her eyes away from a vicious snap. She lowered her hooves to cover her stomach. The force field around her shoulders screamed and shuddered as blows rained down.

Hurricane looped the hook around a loose piece of armor and lifted Care into the air. They climbed upwards, to the top walkway. The commander sent the captain crashing against the meshwork. She jumped and brought Care down twice more, each time rougher than the last.

She held Care still and wedged her claws into the straps of Care’s helmet. She pried it off an inch at a time, scraping the skin on Care’s cheek. Care tried to push her off, but the commander was far, far too strong. The helmet came off and clattered to the bottom of the airship several meters below. Hurricane brought her blades up to drive them into the captain’s skull.

Care lashed out and hit Hurricane in the side of her unprotected face. Several more punches followed in quick succession. She grasped Hurricane’s neck and kicked her rear legs. She bashed the commander’s nose into the catwalk before shoving her over the side.

Captain Care charged her horn to blazing white and rained three fireballs on Hurricane’s body. The pegasus flapped her wings and caught two of them in a strong draft of air, extinguishing them. She sidestepped the third with a sneer.

Hurricane fell backwards from the walkway and swept up two blades in the wind created by her flight. She streaked towards Care and released the swords. One struck the meshwork, and one embedded itself in the rearmost gasbag’s framework.

Care cast a bubble of magic around the blade beside her. She wrenched it free and held it at the ready. The assassin had already scooped up two more and was flying towards her with the blades in tow. Care swung her blade and knocked the others aside.

Hurricane snatched one of the blades before it could fall. She brought it down on Care’s sword. The captain felt a painful pressure build up at the base of her horn. The commander struck indiscriminately, driving Care back. The captain held on until the pressure became too much. She tossed the blade at Hurricane, who grabbed it out of the air, rolled her foreleg, and threw it back.

It struck Care’s armored chest with enough force to carry her back a few inches. The force field sputtered and died. Hurricane swung hard, her blade aimed for Care’s neck.

Care shouted and grasped Hurricane’s body with her pink magic. She threw the commander against the gasbag with a flick of her horn. She let loose a wide spray of fire to give herself time to breathe.

Commander Hurricane sliced a hole in the lining. Care’s flames faded.

Captain Carrot sprinted away from Hurricane, towards the hum of the engine room. The door loomed before her, with the electromagnet powering the cannon just on the other side. A blade stabbed into the doorframe, but Care vaulted over it.

She found herself face-to-face with five loaded volleyguns. She slid on her rump, coming to a stop far too close for comfort.

“Shoot her!” Hurricane’s voice screamed. “Shoot her dead!”

A gun fired, and one of Hurricane’s warriors collapsed. Care took the opportunity to magically grasp the muzzles of the other four guns and point them at the ceiling. They went off with a crackle.

Blankety Blank ran from other side of the room, fumbling with a bag of sparkpowder and volleygun slugs. The powder flowed from the lip of his bag to the giant turbine dominating the rest of the room. “I’ll d-deal with the engine, you finish Hurricane!”

Care jumped to the side as a warrior tried to stab her with the volleygun’s blade. “Dunno if I can!”

“We g-gotta try!” Blankety stabbed the warrior in the leg, then turned the muzzle to another pony and fired point-blank. “Y-you’re a Knight of Harmony now! We do this kinda stuff!”

Care let out a single bark of laughter and picked up the unfired volleygun. She charged back towards the door.

Hurricane wrenched the blade from the frame. She looked up just before Care’s shoulder knocked her off her hooves. She flopped off of the walkway and landed headfirst on the one below it.

Care leaped, the volleygun held tight on her forelegs. She brought the metal tip down on Hurricane’s head and drew it back to fire. Hurricane swung her blade and knocked the gun out of alignment. She grabbed the wingblade in both forehooves and struck with all her might.

Care cast a spell and swept Hurricane’s rear hooves aside. The commander caught herself with her wings. A vicious flap drove wind into Care’s face and chest with the force of a buck. She slid on her back until she hit the bulkhead separating the inside of the envelope from the engine room.

Hurricane landed. She flapped one wing, then the other, buffeting Care with strong wind at each movement. She walked closer, slowly, a snarl spreading across her bleeding face.

Blankety Blank knocked a warrior down with a four-legged kick. He buzzed around the room, seeking a weakness to the engine. “Come on, there’s g-gotta be a way to blow this…” He paused. One of Hurricanes soldiers lay prostrate, moaning and grasping for something on their belt.

Blank landed on their stomach and sent them into unconsciousness. He plucked the round object from the pony and rolled it over in his hoof. He shook it, causing it to hiss. A pin held it closed.

A warrior snuck up behind him. His eyes lit up as he kicked the pony in the face. “I’ve s-seen these before. Grenades.” He looked around to see that all the warriors had more strapped to their belts. “Oh ho-ho. That will d-do nicely.”

Care brought the volleygun’s shaft up to halt the wingblade mid-swing. She bucked with her hind legs, but Hurricane dodged out of reach. The captain flipped upright and jabbed with the full length of the gun. Hurricane grabbed it with her left foreleg, yanking it aside, and moved closer to slide her sword across Care’s face.

Care snapped her teeth together, pushed as much power into her horn as she could, and grasped the blade in midair. Hurricane held the wingblade with one foreleg, her eyes widening as she looked at the pink glow encasing her sword. She strained her muscles, but didn’t budge.

They stood still, grasping each others’ weapons with all their might. Sweat poured from beneath Care’s bangs, and Hurricane’s scar blazed with fresh poison. Hurricane leaned close. “Nothing you can do will save this city.”

“Nothing you can do,” Care hissed, “will make a difference.”

She shoved Hurricane’s blade to the side and let it slice downward. It missed her body by a hair. Hurricane wobbled on her hind legs with the unexpected release. Care brought her free hoof up to hit Hurricane under the chin. She wrenched her volleygun away and brought the butt around to smack the commander between the eyes. She switched which hoof was holding her weapon so that she could hit Hurricane’s scar.

Hurricane flared her wings, shouting incoherently. Her body spasmed with the next punch to her cheek. She glared at Care and brought her wings down to blow her from the walkway.

Care grabbed the gun and jammed the tip beneath Hurricane’s wing. The commander howled. Care snatched the tip of her wing and stretched it out. She threw every ounce of available magic into her horn—more than she dared, more than was safe. She unleashed white-hot fire in a beam of cutting heat.

Hurricane’s severed wing fluttered to the canvas. Its coating of molten metal melted through the material and left a sizzling hole behind as it disappeared into the storm. Hurricane herself collapsed in writhing pain, grasping at the cauterized patch on her back.

Care—tired, nervous, and trembling—stood over Hurricane with a disbelieving, gap-mouthed expression. “Thus… to all dastards.”

Blankety Blank poked his head though the doorway. “Care! I’ve rigged the ship to blow! Get up here so we can g-get Velvet!”

“Right away!” Care saluted him with the volleygun. She looked down at Hurricane. “I gotta thank you, Commander. You’ve taught me some very important lessons about myself.”

Hurricane sneered.

“Well, not you specifically.” Care tilted her head and squinted. “Come to think of it, everything I learned was from other people. You know what? I don’t have to thank you. You were terrible.” She backed away, the muzzle of her volleygun aimed at Hurricane’s chest. “They’ll probably have to scrub you off of the Canterlot streets, you know. Enjoy that little thought. Bye.”

Hurricane laughed through bloodied teeth.

Care’s heart sunk. “Blank. Why’s the crazy mare with one wing happy?”

Blankety leaned down and grasped the walkway supports. “Shoot her! Shoot her now!”

Hurricane flicked her remaining wing. A small, feather-sized wingblade zipped through the air and struck Care’s shoulder. The captain lost strength in the leg and lost her balance. She fell down, down, down towards the hole in the canvas. She stretched her hoof out and grasped the frayed edge, holding on for dear life.

Hurricane stood up. She spat in Blank’s direction. “Come down, little changeling, and save your friend!”

“Blow it up, Blankety!” Care screamed. She looked down and saw Luna’s Dream’s Keep right below her. If she let go, maybe, just maybe, she could land on the roof.

The howling wind of the storm had other ideas.

“Kill her, Blank!” Care Carrot felt her body being ripped away from the canvas. “Destroy the Thunderhead! Do it!”

Blank looked from Care to Hurricane. “But…”

He sighed. He grasped the pin of the last grenade, pulled it out, and tossed it towards the engine. The small, round object rolled beside a pile of more than a dozen others. It ticked down.

The explosion was deafening.

The grenades blasted the turbine’s casing away. With nothing to hold it in, the electromagnet spun out of control across the room. Lightning and fire blossomed as it became a rolling inferno of splintering metal and molten filings. The propellers outside wound down before their motors were torn apart by thunderous blasts.

Care was thrown from the ship.

***

Orange Marmalade grinned at Twilight Velvet. Velvet only paid the warrior enough attention to make sure they didn’t try to escape.

Marmalade patted the floor as it rattled. “Ooh. Feel that? Sounds like your friends are having trouble.”

Velvet rolled her eyes. “Shut up.”

Marmalade got up and strolled closer to Velvet. “They’re both goners, you know. Nobody can stop Hurricane.”

One of Marmalade’s fellow goons held up a hoof. “Easy, you’re gonna make her mad again—”

“Doesn’t matter, she’s on the losing side.” Marmalade stood proud before a glum Velvet. “So what about it, Chief? Not so high and mighty now, are you?”

The floor erupted with the blades of a spinning propeller, turning Orange Marmalade into a fine red mist.

The entire airship listed to the side. The envelope exploded as an entire gasbag ruptured all at once. Twilight Velvet dropped the volleygun and braced herself against the wall. She waved at the surviving crewmembers. “Either of you yahoos wanna live to see tomorrow?”

They both nodded.

“Then help me find some sort of parachute!”

***

Luna reeled as the eye of the storm moved over Canterlot Castle. Her magic was cast aside like it was nothing. Every bit of her strength was useless. Nothing she could do mattered.

“There’s another way,” Nightmare Moon said. “There always was, and there always will be.”

A hailstone shattered against Luna’s shield. Tears poured down her rain-slicked cheeks. “Leave me, you monster!”

“I am you.” Nightmare Moon touched Luna’s cheek with a gentle caress. “You need me.”

“No!” Luna shouted. “No, no! I never needed you!”

Nightmare Moon smiled. “Do you believe that? Do you really believe that?”

“I…” Luna sobbed. She turned around and attacked a different section of the storm. Again her horn felt a sharp pain as she was pushed back. “I need help.”

“There, there…” Nightmare Moon clicked her tongue. “It always gets easier after you admit—”

“Silence foul beast, created from naught but pain!” Luna glared at Nightmare Moon with bared, white teeth. “Thou art a worthless, fruitless imagination! A construct of an unwell mind! Leave at once! Leave my presence!”

Nightmare Moon’s face turned hard. She smiled as she faded into the rain. “You’ll call for me. You always do.”

Luna planted her four feet on the ground. She grasped the storm and struggled to hold on. Cracks formed in the pavement around her hooves. “But I still need help…”

She shut her eyes tight, her horn aglow. She reached to the bottom of her heart, and then moved outward, across the world, seeking and searching. “Help me, please. Help me.”

She raised her head and bellowed with a hoarse throat. “Celestia! Sister! Celestia!”

Care

The Ba’al watched the battle with a frown. He tapped his fingers against the armrests. The Thunderhead ruptured and fell, trailing debris and fire.

Celestia strained her eyes to see where Care dropped. There was no sign of the orange-coated mare. There was no sign of Hurricane or Blankety, either.

In the other windows to the outside, she saw Stonewall fighting side-by-side with the griffon captain. Andean had vanished into the storm some time ago. Even with the Thunderhead out of commission, the hurricane raged.

“They stopped the spread of the storm,” the Ba’al said, “but they cannot halt it.”

“That is up to my sister,” Celestia said. Luna rebuked the nightmare, which faded into the shadows. “And she is strong. Stronger than she or you know.”

“Celestia!” Luna’s voice called out. “Sister! Celestia!”

Celestia choked. She reached up to touch the image. “I’m here, Luna. I’m sorry. I cannot help.”

“She will die alone.” The Ba’al’s voice crackled. “She and all the other—”

“She will do no such thing.” Celestia raised her head. She fought to keep her tears at bay. “She will fight until her final breath. She will stand firm and never waver. She will find a way.”

“Insignificant.” He bared sharp, piercing teeth. “All that you are is insignificant. All you can do or ever have done is insignificant. Just look how easily your perfect little world fell ap—”

“That is enough!” She flew upwards and thrust her foreleg towards Stonewall’s battle. “If you are so powerful, and so vast, and so wise, why are you not directing the battle? Why are you not destroying Canterlot and Cloudsdale with your own vast power? Why were you unable to reign in Hurricane?”

The Ba’al steepled his talons. “As a being from the dawn of creation, I believe I deserve your respect, young one. You will refer to me by my title, the Lord of the Sky, and you will not speak unless spoken—”

“Lord of the Sky?” Celestia shook her head. She turned to Luna’s struggle. “You are not the Lord of the Sky. You’re the lord of flies at best. The king of vermin and filth.”

He rose from his throne and armed his spear. “You dare speak to me in such a flippant, dismissive manner, foul brat? I shall smite you where you lay!”

She spread her wings wide. “Then do so!”

The Ba’al gripped the spear tight. He spread his blackened, feathery wings and billowed smoke. He held still.

“But you cannot,” Celestia said. “You can no more move from your throne than I can speak to my sister.”

He stabbed his spearpoint into the throne. “You dare presume—?”

“You were imprisoned by changelings, thousands of years ago.” Celestia took a measured step away from him and rested her hoof on Luna’s image. “And you are a prisoner to this day.”

“This is my doing!” The Ba’al reached his gnarled hand towards her. “My forces have destroyed your cities!”

Celestia glared straight into his greedy green eyes. “You can hide your chains no longer.”

He halted mere inches from grabbing her. She focused on the shimmering air surrounding his burning limb. As she watched, a shackle appeared, no longer hidden by his illusion.

“You are a defeated foe, and I need not fear you.” Celestia curled her lip. “But understand that does not mean I will not fight you.”

The Ba’al dropped the enchantment that hid his other three chains. He sat down hard, his limbs restrained. “You will fight and lose, Daughter of Light! I am immortal! I am eternal!”

Celestia let his voice fade into the background. She pressed her cheek against the image of Luna and listened to her sister’s voice cry out. “I’m here, Luna. I’m here, and I love you. Take heart, Luna. Take heart.”

A hailstone broke through Luna’s shield and hit her across the brow. She fell into a puddle and screamed.

“Luna, I love you.” Celestia hit her hoof against the illusory wall. “Stand tall, sister! You know how to stop it! Stand tall!”

***

Luna felt the bump on her forehead, and her hoof came away red. Another hit like that would be the death of her. She hefted herself upwards and surveyed the storm. It had enveloped the entire city of Canterlot, and most of Cloudsdale itself. The eye hovered directly above Canterlot Castle, and the wall was tearing the building apart.

“Celestia! Help me!” Luna stumbled across the square, raising her shield anew. “I can’t do it alone! I can’t! I need you!”

She reached for a lamppost to steady herself, but it tipped over with a touch. She slumped against a brick wall. “Hear me, Celestia… Help… I don’t know what to do.”

Tears poured down her face, fighting for space with the rain. Her starry mane trailed behind her in the wind. Ice coated her wings. Her long tail was caked with mud. “I’m so alone.”

“I’m proud of you, Luna.”

Luna lifted her face. A familiar, warm voice touched her mind, not her ears. “What?”

“I’m so proud of the mare you’ve become.”

Luna looked back and the black mark over her cutie mark. “B-but I’m so broken—”

“What’s more important?” The voice changed, taking on a different cadence. “Where we came from, or where we’re going?”

“Where we’re going!” Luna stood up and lit her horn. “But where do I go from here?”

“I saw a second pony with eyes of shadow,” the voice said, shifting tones a third time. “Her heart was merry, though encased in a prison of stone. She carried the moon on her right wing, and the sun on her left. Darkness was her enemy and constant companion, but she would not surrender.”

“The moon on her right…” Luna reached out through the storm, above the clouds, past the sky, and into the reaches beyond. “And the sun on her left.”

The moon hung in the sky, concealed by Hurricane’s havoc. The sun lay below the horizon, awaiting the birth of a new day.

“Dearest sister,” the voice said in its fourth iteration. It was by far the most familiar of the four. It was a voice that had been screaming to be heard from the depths of her heart. It was her own voice, speaking the lessons learned from the ponies around her. “What are we?”

Luna shook the ice from her wings. She lifted her face to the sky and shut her eyes. “You did help me, Celestia. You and Twilight have been helping me this whole time. You have been trying to tell me something important.”

She opened her eyes and gave her sister a smile. “I think it finally got through.”

She called to the sun and told it to rise. Magic flowed through her like rapids through a canyon. Her eyes and horn glowed the brightest white.

The air grew warmer as the sun rose. A reddish color touched the horizon. Silver light spiked through the clouds from the moon. Her heart thundered as she brought the two celestial objects closer together, carrying them to the apex of their arcs.

Lightning struck the ground beside her. She didn’t move.

Blood trickled from her nose. She could feel them getting closer. She could feel them eclipse. Their magic pressed against each other as they tried to repel their polar opposites. The magic reached a fever pitch, crackling and rumbling to put the hurricane to shame.

“What are we?” Luna asked. The hair on her body stood on end. Her feathers flailed. Her mane and tail reached upward. “We are the Royal Pony Sisters! We are the protectors of Equestria! We are the wielders of the morning and the evening!”

The clouds parted above her. She could see the sun and moon in perfect alignment, their power too harsh for the naked eye to observe. A beam of magic lanced downward, tearing apart storm clouds and dissolving hailstones.

Stonewall stabbed a pony with her spear. She turned at the sound of a horrific explosion. Light lanced from the sky and tore its way through the hurricane. A shockwave struck her in the heart and threw her into the clouds.

Everything was still. The storm was halted. The whirlwind was calmed.

Hurricane’s warriors hovered in place, surrounded by the meager few defenders that remained. They held their weapons at the ready, awaiting a signal to continue the fight.

Luna swayed on her hooves. The sun dipped back beneath the horizon. The moon shone bright and full overhead, illuminating the battle. She took in a deep breath and bellowed in the Royal Canterlot Voice. “All Canterlot Forces: Attack!”

Pegasi launched themselves from the city streets. Unicorns fired explosive spells, while earth ponies raced to the airship port to find anything that was left. Hurricane’s warriors found themselves facing a force well over three-hundred strong.

They fought tooth and hoof for sheer survival.

Luna fell onto her side. Her legs had no strength. Her horn sizzled in a puddle. Her heart beat weakly within her chest. She smiled.

It faded when she saw the Thunderhead. The Felaccian flagship fell faster and faster, each moment of travel taking a higher toll on its integrity. It dove towards the castle in flames.

Luna tried to stand, but flopped back down. A hoof brushed her cheek. “Luna, can you hear me?”

Luna blinked. “Who’s there?”

“It’s Rarity, Your Majesty.” The white unicorn had braced a broken rear leg with a plank and some cloth. “Oh dear. I’m a little out of my element, so to speak. I—um—just hold on tight and I’ll get somepony to assist you. I’m afraid I haven’t dealt with magical first aid since my sister—A story for another time! The hospital is close, I’ll just see if they have room for a princess after today…”

***

Natter bustled down the hallway, struggling to pull his coat on whilst simultaneously balancing his monocle and tying his scarf. A maid followed close behind him, one who wore a uniform that made it very difficult to keep his mind on his work.

“You can’t go out there, Natter!” Sky Wishes snapped. “The storm ’ll kill you and then where would that leave us? Who would I have to drive crazy? Who would glare at me disapprovingly when I slack off? We’ve got synergy, dude!”

“I have to find Luna!” Natter said. “It was my own daft mumblings that sent her off into the storm, so it should be my own daft ramblings that pull her back in!”

“It doesn’t work like that!” Sky Wishes cringed when the large double doors came into view. “Natter! Natter!”

She jumped in front of him and spread her wings. “Please!”

“Miss Wishes.” Natter drew himself up. “If you wish to keep your job, you will kindly step aside!”

“I don’t care about the stupid job, I care about you!”

Sky Wishes wiped her eyes. She glared at the floor. “Look what you went and made me say.”

Natter reached up and tightened his cravat. Any tighter, he thought, and he just might strangle himself. “Sky…”

“I can’t stop you.” She waved a hoof. “So go. Go find Luna and—”

Natter gave her a peck on the cheek. Every muscle in her body seized.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I have a duty to attend to. But I will return.” He pulled a cane out from a rack beside the door and flipped a top hat onto his head. ”I assume you’ll be here when I do?”

Sky Wishes frowned. She lowered her ears. “Just go.”

Natter mentally kicked himself and pulled the door open.

He came face-to-face with a crashing airship.

He slammed the door shut and leaned against it. “Well, I’m bally well back.”

The entire castle shook on its foundations as the Thunderhead crashed through the front gates. Wootz and canvas tore through the doors and ripped up the marble floors. The wall crumbled and caved in.

Natter hung from the ceiling, his tail held tight by Sky Wishes’ teeth. He looked upwards with wide eyes. “Thank you, Miss—”

“Stuff it,” she said through a clenched jaw.

Natter shrugged and looked down at the devastation. He could see the courtyard from where he hung, through the hole in the wall left by the ship. A movement caught his eye. A pony crawled from the wreckage, their coat scorched and their feathers torn.

Cold, gray eyes looked up at the castle.

“Oh mighty Creator.” Natter felt his legs go numb. “It’s the assassin…”

Hurricane examined the castle grounds for any sign of Care Carrot. A smidgeon of orange coat, a dash of green mane, a pool of shattered remains. The fire from the captain’s horn still burned bright in her cauterized patch. The smug look on Care’s face sent poison shooting through her veins.

There, on one tall tower. A patch of orange scrambled its way up the rooftop, trying to maintain its footing. It slipped and slid before reaching the edge. It looked down and found a balcony that was safe to drop to. It disappeared inside the tower with a volleygun over its shoulder.

“Captain,” Hurricane hissed. She took a step forward and was immediately met with a spike of pain through her bones. She dragged the useless, broken leg behind her, shambling across the courtyard and towards the tower.

Sky Wishes set Natter down gently. She put a hoof to her lips. “When she’s gone, we—”

Hurricane climbed through the hole in the wall. She looked at them with lidded eyes. “What tower is that? On the northern wing?”

Natter placed himself between Sky and the commander. “I won’t say.”

Commander Hurricane pressed her lips together. Dried blood was caked all over her face.

She punched Natter in the chest and threw him across the hallway. Sky Wishes ran after him, screaming his name.

Hurricane limped onwards.

“You monster!” Sky Wishes screamed. “If you continue down this path, you will destroy everything you ever cared about!”

Hurricane stopped. She turned her head slowly. “I have heard these words before. They are weighty words for a servant girl.”

“Where you’re going—” Sky Wishes cradled Natter’s head. “—the only thing that awaits you is death.”

Hurricane scratched her blazing, bleeding scar. She smeared the blood over her hoof. “That’s all that has ever awaited me.”

Tears dripped from Sky’s cheeks and fell to Natter’s limp body. “You hurt everything you touch.”

Hurricane stumbled towards the north wing, where the tower waited. She paid no more mind to the scheduling advisor and maid she left behind. The castle was empty, with the guards having all charged to the defense of their city. The few servants that remained stayed holed up in their rooms or in the kitchens. Hurricane followed the signs to a name that seemed promising: The Dream’s Keep.

A stairway led upwards. She hauled herself up, step by step, painful ache by painful ache. She checked her wing. There were five feather-sized wingblades hidden among the feathers. Her safeguard. Her backup. Her ace in the hole.

The stairwell spiraled into the sky, almost as high as a cloud. There was no door at the top, just an open archway into a circular room. Mirrors lined the walls, each reflecting back the cold, hateful face she’d come to know as her own.

In the center of the room, a pony lay. Her orange chest heaved with every breath. Her legs flopped uselessly beside her. Her green mane was matted and grimy. Her tail swished wearily. Her pink eyes looked up and filled with fear. She croaked out a single word: “Hurricane?”

Hurricane came to Care’s side. She tilted her head. “Can’t you stand?”

Care gritted her teeth.

“Good.” Hurricane kicked Care in the gut. When the soldier curled up with pain, she grabbed her by the shoulders and pressed her down. Hurricane lay her hoof across Care’s throat and stepped down hard.

“I will heal.” Hurricane shifted to get a better stance. She could feel the pony’s bones strain beneath her. “I will return with a new army. I will take Celestia’s life. And Luna’s. And Twilight’s. And anypony else who stands in my way.”

She leaned down and pressed her mouth against Care’s ear. “I shall take your life. But before that, I shall take great pleasure in doing to you exactly what you did to me.”

Care smiled. “Y-you’ve got the w-wrong pony.”

Hurricane jerked back. Her teeth parted as the pony was engulfed in green fire that uncovered black carapace. Her hoof pressed ineffectually against Blank’s hard, chitinous exoskeleton.

A scream tore her back to reality. Care charged from the balcony with a raised volleygun. She stabbed the tip deep into Hurricane’s chest. She tried to pull it out to thrust again, but the commander grabbed a hold.

Commander Hurricane snarled and flicked her wing. All five blades sank into Care’s torso.

Care’s grip loosened. She held on to the gun as fiercely as she was able. She wriggled it back and forth, trying to force the blade deeper. Hurricane snarled and began to draw the blade from her ribs.

Hurricane stood up. She ignored the pain in her broken leg and severed wing. She snarled and watched as Care sank back, the wingblades sapping away her energy. At last, the captain slumped to the floor with a sigh. The commander pulled away from her body and slid the volleygun out of her chest.

Blankety Blank grasped the shaft, forced it back into Hurricane’s chest, and pulled the trigger.

Ringing filled her ears. She cocked an eyebrow at the changeling. He looked at her with eyes full of tears. Without a second glance, he rushed to Care’s side and shook her.

Hurricane tried to speak, but all that came out was blood. She looked down at her chest and saw the volleygun sticking out, surrounded by a red, scorched wound. She couldn’t take a breath; her lungs refused to cooperate. Her hooves were numb, as was her wing. She couldn’t move.

She fell onto her back and stared at the ceiling. The gun stood up from her chest like a flagpole. The floor became wet beneath her. There was an exit wound, then. The edges of her vision faded to white.

Blankety Blank held onto Care’s hoof. “C-come on, Captain. Captain!” He brushed his hoof against her cheek. “Care, please say something.”

Care coughed. She opened her eyes and sighed. “Hi, Blank. Thanks.”

“Y-you’re gonna be okay.” Blank searched around for something to stanch the wounds. “I’ll get a doctor—”

“Thank you.” Care leaned back and fell limp. “Thank you so much.”

“Care?” Blankety Blank grabbed her cheeks and pulled her head up. “Come on, Care, you aren’t done yet. You aren’t done!”

He ran for the exit, and tripped over Hurricane’s body. Her glazed, dead eyes stared at nothing, pure shock written across her face. He grimaced and passed her by. “S-somepony help! We need a doctor! Help!”

***

Daring Do stumbled over a loose stone. She adjusted her headlamp to see the ground at her hooves. “This whole cave is crawling! How are we supposed to get out?”

Twilight Sparkle followed behind, having borrowed Time Turner’s goggles. The light shone wherever she looked. She clutched the Grimoire Alicorn tight beneath her wing.

Daring ruffled her wing to brush against Time’s side. He hung from her back, his head lolled just over her shoulder. “You still good, Time? Still with us?”

“Y-yes.” Time coughed loud in her ear. “Daring, I need to say—”

“Save your strength, we’re almost at the surface.” Daring tapped the rock wall. “I think.”

“But Daring, I—” Time Turner hacked violently. Daring Do spread her wings to balance him.

“Easy, big guy,” she whispered. She felt something wet slide down her shoulder. “Gross. Would yah keep your boogers to yourse—?”

She turned her lamp to her shoulder. It was red.

“Oh, Gosh!” Daring bent down and rolled him from her back. He coughed blood again, dyeing his duster. “Time! No, no, no, no, don’t you even!”

He looked down at his coat. He shut his eyes tight and tipped his head back. “Oh no. Not now! Not like this!”

“Just relax, Time,” Daring said, a tremble in her voice. “We can get through this—”

“I was happy!” He kicked out, knocking a loose rock aside. “I was finally happy! After all the years of hurt and pain and loneliness, I was finally going to be happy!”

His body doubled over with the next coughing fit. He bucked out and screamed. “This is so stupid! Why? Why make me happy when I was just gonna die?”

He wept, and Daring pulled him to her chest. He shook, both from sobs and from coughs.

“I was going to fall in love with you,” he cried. “I wanted so much to fall in love with you.”

Daring Do rubbed the back of his head as he nuzzled her chest. “I did fall in love with you.”

She rested her cheek atop his grayed, spiky mane. She smiled and kissed his forehead. “And… and it was the best thing that ever happened to me. I mean it, Time. I love you so much and don’t want to be with anybody else.”

Time Turner lifted his head. He gazed at her with parted lips. “But…”

“T-Time…” She pressed her forehead against his and took in a deep breath. “I mean, I don’t really have anything to give you… I could probably pull a ring from the museum collection that nopony would miss…”

Time shook his head. “Daring, please don’t.”

“Give me this thing!” Daring grasped his hoof. “P-please. Please, before you go, give me this chance.”

Time choked with all the strength in his body. He slumped against her. He pawed at her shoulder. “I don’t wanna die. I don’t want to.”

Daring Do laid him down and then settled in beside him. She chewed her lower lip. “Time, will you marry me?” After a moment, she added, “Please say ‘yes.’”

He leaned back, his face contorted with agony.

“Y-you’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” Daring said. She wrapped her foreleg around his torso. “You’re the smartest, funniest, weirdest dude in all of Equestria, and I respect the heck out of that. And… and you make me smile. Y-you remind me about why I’m a knight.”

She bit back the pain in her chest. “And I don’t want to imagine a life where I don’t tell you that.”

Time sobbed. He buried his nose in her mane. “I would go anywhere and do anything to be with you. Of course I’ll marry you.”

Daring turned her lamp to Twilight. She waved the princess closer. “So, um, can you do something to, like, make this all official and stuff?”

Twilight Sparkle wiped her eyes and lowered her goggles back into place. She looked over the two of them. With a shrug, she flapped her wings and nodded.

She crossed her heart, fluttered her forelegs, and stuck her hoof in her eye.

Daring pantomimed the motions and said, “I do.”

Time Turner squeezed his eyelids tight and snapped his teeth together. “I do.”

Twilight Sparkle pointed at her lips, then pointed at them.

Time Turner erupted into a series of uncontrollable coughs. Daring Do held him tight and rubbed his back. She laid a small kiss on his cheek as he calmed down. He let out a strangled gasp.

The rest was mercifully quick.

Daring rocked him back and forth. She shut her eyes and finally allowed herself to cry. “Shh. It’s okay. Shh.”

Twilight Sparkle touched Daring’s wing. Daring Do pulled away from Time and fell into Twilight’s embrace, choking out tears.

A bright light shone on them. “I found them!”

Twilight Sparkle and Daring Do looked up to see Skyhook charging through the tunnels. The other soldiers were hot on his heels. He stopped a meter away from Time. “Oh, geeze, we need to get him to—”

“It’s too late,” Daring said. She wiped her eyes and lifted Time onto her back. “We’re not in any hurry.”

She kept her face firm as she walked forward. “Let’s get out of this darn mountain.”

Skyhook stretched his wings and rolled his shoulders. “I think I can hook you up with that.”

A quick hike later, they stepped into the silvery light of the dead of night. One of the soldiers sent up a flare, while the others attended to their wounds as well as they could. They were at the base of the mountain, a day’s walk from Ponyville. The air was still save for a scattered snowflake or two.

A rickety airship came to pick them up, piloted by Royal Guards. They puttered up the mountain towards the city.

Twilight Sparkle’s heart dropped. Canterlot was in shambles. Cloudsdale was an assembly of scattered clouds. Ponies were everywhere in various states of injury. Rescue workers and able citizens dug ponies out of collapsed households. Griffons lifted wreckage alongside pegasi. The hospital lay in the distance, its windows shattered and part of its roof caved in.

Twilight leaned on the railing. She shook her head. It was impossible, but it was right in front of her. Canterlot was destroyed. Cloudsdale was gone. So many ponies were hurt.

They landed in the castle courtyard, beside the remains of a shattered airship frame. Twilight wandered through the crowds, seeking a familiar face. Was Luna around? Was Spike? She had to talk to somepony. She had to tell them…

She rubbed her face. Her hooves stung where the crystal had bit into her skin. She sat down with a huff and looked into the middle distance.

“Twilight!”

Her ears perked up. She knew that voice like the cover of her favorite book. She smiled and staggered to her feet.

Across the courtyard, pulling off the remains of a parachute, was Twilight Velvet. She hobbled along, picking up speed as she neared her daughter. “Twilight! Get over here and hug your mother!”

Twilight ran. She scooped her mother up and nestled her chin into her neck. She had to bend down to do so, because of how much taller she was than her mother.

“Oh, my baby.” Twilight Velvet kissed Twilight Sparkle. “My beautiful baby girl.”

They sat beside each other with no more words needed.

***

“You failed,” Celestia said.

She snapped a wing towards the Ba’al. “If your mission was to break us, you failed completely. We are a strong people, with strong people fighting for us. We will not bow down in the face of adversity. We will stand tall against those who seek to do us harm. We will stand together.”

“You are the princess of rubble.”

“We are so much more.” Celestia watched her sister. Rarity daubed the blood away from her nose and fed her warm milk. “We know that even in the darkest hour, there are glimmers of hope. Glimmers of light that you cannot hope to quench.”

The Ba’al slammed his fist against the armrest. “I am immune to the light!”

“You are oblivious to it.” Celestia wrinkled her forehead. “If you weren’t, you would know to fear it.”

“But you know what to fear,” he said. “You know that I will be waiting and watching. When you are at your weakest, I shall be there. When you miss a step, I shall be waiting. When you falter, it shall be my opportunity. I will wait in the shadows to tear you apart.”

“If you were capable of doing so, you would have done it already.” Celestia walked away from him, flicking her tail. “You shall remain here as you always have and always will. Trapped. A prisoner. A nonentity.”

He thrust his spear at her. “To discount me is to empower me! My agents shall follow you all the days of your life! We shall tear your bearers and potential bearers apart, one by one! We shall thrown them into a despair from which there is no escape!”

Celestia smiled at him; a bright, cheerful smile. “And now you have just revealed exactly what I shall have to fight to protect the most. Thank you for that. This talk has been so helpful.”

The Ba’al jumped from his throne and was halted by the chains.

“Farewell to you, Lord of the Flies.” Celestia tossed her mane. “What was the old changeling word for flies? Zebub? Farewell, Ba’al Zebub. May you rot for all eternity.”

Ba’al Zebub roared from deep within his throat. The throne burst into flames and sent waves of heat rolling over Celestia. She vanished from the Abyss.

She awoke in a nice, comfy bed. The laughter of Twilight Amore and Silver Lance tickled her ears. The crash of an ancient and ironically-fragile suit of armor brought a smile to her lips.

“Hay, kids!” she shouted. “Who wants to bring naughty old Aunt Celestia a slice of cake?”

***

Daring Do walked into the wreckage of the hospital. She tiptoed past a fallen stretcher and made her way to the Emergency Room. Stonewall had said she would find him there.

The place was bursting with ponies tried to clean up the mess and help the wounded. Orderlies snapped to follow the orders of a dozen doctors. Nurses did their hardest to calm disorderly patients. A little griffon chick curled up against her older sister, watching Andean be carried down the hall by a small army of ponies.

Daring Do found herself in that same, sad little waiting room with the offensively boring wallpaper. A little changeling sat on the uncomfortable couch, his face buried in his hooves. His head jerked up. “Daring?”

She leaned against the door jam. “Hay.”

Blank glanced behind her. He lowered his eyebrows. “Where’s Time?”

Daring blinked tears from her eyes. “H-he didn’t make it.”

Blankety lowered his face back to his hooves. After a moment, soft hisses and sniffs came forth.

Daring sat beside him and rubbed his shoulders. She spoke quietly, but her voice still cracked. “How’s Care?”

“Bad.” Blankety hugged himself. “Sh-she’s hurt bad. B-but there’s nothing I can do.”

“Yes, there is.” Daring Do pulled him closer. “You’re doing it. You’re here for her. That counts for something.”

Blank nodded. He nibbled his lip. “All—all I c-can taste is sadness and anger…”

“Well, I’m sure happy to see you.” She gave him a lopsided grin. “Not getting through too well, huh?”

“I’ll take what I can get.” Blank sat still for a moment. He let out a small laugh. “No offense.”

Daring Do chuckled. She patted his back and hauled herself to her hooves. “I hear you.”

She leaned her elbow against the wall. She could see across the hall to a small window. The sun peeked over the horizon, the night having come to an end. “I guess now’s the waiting game.”

“S-something like that.” Blankety Blank poured himself a cup of cold coffee. As he sipped, he figured it was slightly less bitter than the general atmosphere. “S-something very much like that.”

Ashes

Princess Luna strode into the cemetery with a coffin held tight in her magical grip. The pegasus pyre dominated the landscape, with ready torches lighting the surrounding brown grass. She set the coffin atop the pyre and lifted the lid.

The sides fell away, revealing the stiff, still form of Commander Hurricane. Luna plucked a torch from its stand and held it high.

“We come not to honor the life of a celebrated hero,” Luna said, “but to bring closure to ourselves.”

A chill wind blew through her mane and ruffled her torch. “Daughter of the sky, return to the wind you were born into.”

Luna scrunched her muzzle, unsure of what else to say. She dropped the torch onto Hurricane’s body and watched the flames spread. The kindling caught first, followed by the burial cloth, and finally the commander herself. Within seconds she was unrecognizable as the assassin who had attacked her sister, let alone the mare that had helped raise them. Let alone the pony who had given birth to them. She was eaten away piece after piece, moment by moment.

Twilight Sparkle fluttered to a stop behind Luna. She clutched the Grimoire Alicorn between her forelegs. She stared at the flames before handing a note to Luna. I want to know why you asked me to bring the book.

Luna swallowed and cleared her throat. “I want to burn it.”

Twilight lowered her ears.

“It has caused nothing but pain and suffering since the day Sombra put pen to paper.” Luna extended her wing towards the pyre. “So I shall destroy it and end the destructive cycle.”

Twilight Sparkle chewed the tip of her mane. She passed another pre-written note to the older princess. I’ve read some of it. I have a lot of questions.

Luna felt her hackles tingle. She stepped forward and spread her wings. “Twilight—”

Twilight halted her with a hoof to the chest. A scrap of paper crinkled against Luna. She took the page and read it over, her eyes stinging. Hurricane was your mother?

“Yes,” Luna said. “A long time ago. Or at least she told me as much.”

With a nod, Twilight looked over the altar. She pulled a page out of her bag. Did you know about any of this?

“No. Not until after Celestia was injured.” Luna pressed her lips tight. She shifted her weight from one hoof to another. “I… I don’t understand why my sister never told me.”

Twilight shivered. She dug through her available questions and selected one that was written in a hasty, shaking scrawl. Luna, what am I?

Luna stared into the fire for a long time. Her thoughts jumbled, dancing like the flames, tearing at her and sparking inside her. She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and let one strong conviction rise to the surface. “Sombra’s device had nothing to do with your ascension, Twilight. Yours or Cadence’s. From what I can see, you were ascended naturally, not by artificial, arcane methods.”

Twilight let out a shuddering breath. Luna reached out to support her as her legs grew weak.

Her horn glowed and grasped the Grimoire Alicorn. “Now,” Luna said, “to put an end to this—”

Twilight Sparkle grabbed the book. She shook her head.

Luna didn’t let her magic drop. “Twilight. This must be done.”

Princess Twilight shuffled through her saddlebags. She jerked her hoof wrong, knocking them from her back. A sea of papers spilled out, fluttering on the wind, some dancing towards the flames, some flying across the cemetery.

Luna’s mouth popped open. “How long have you been writing these? Twilight?”

Twilight Sparkle watched as her work sailed away. She didn’t bother to chase after any of them. It was futile. All her questions, lost on the wind, unable to be spoken.

She stood between Luna and the pyre, tears in her eyes. She shook her head violently, batting at the book with a hoof.

Luna lowered the tome to the ground. She sighed. “Why are you so against what I mean to do?”

Twilight scratched her message into the dirt. Knowledge—

“Knowledge that has destroyed lives.”

Knowledge is not evil—

“It was used for an evil purpose!”

Knowledge is not evil by itself.

“Twilight!” Luna snapped. “Let this mystery be!”

They were still, making no sound that rose above the roar of the flames.

Luna turned away from Twilight’s strong stare. “Let this be a mystery. Let the knowledge fade and die, harming no one. Let it fade to ashes and dust.”

Twilight wiped her eyes. She cleared away her sentence and started anew. Destroying the book won’t change anything.

Luna looked at the words. She turned to the pony that wrote them. “I know.”

But keeping the book will change things.

“It will.”

Would it be a bad change?

A ruffle of feathers later, Luna sat upon the ground. “I don’t know. Would it be a good change?”

Twilight shrugged. She sat beside Luna and wrapped a wing over her shoulder. She took the book and flipped through the pages. She stopped at an image that depicted Hurricane’s fairy strings. She scratched in the dirt. Medical breakthroughs.

The next page she stopped at held a sketch of Fort Everfree. Historical treasures.

She flipped it to the last page, where Clover the Clever denounced the idea that Celestia and Luna were the prophesied alicorns. Powerful commentary.

Luna touched the cowhide cover. She clicked her tongue and stood up. “Then the book is yours, Twilight. I can see that it means much to you.”

She lifted the Grimoire Alicorn and nestled it within Twilight’s saddlebags. “I entrust it to you. Protect the book, protect the knowledge inside. It is not a light burden I give you. The knowledge within is dangerous and deadly in the wrong hooves, as you experienced first-hoof. For this to escape into the general public could be a disaster.”

Twilight lowered her ears. Censorship?

“Is is censorship to hide troop movements? Or to keep Celestia out of public eyes until she is healed?” Luna pointed. “Knowledge is power, Twilight, and that book is a dangerous weapon. If you must keep it, I cannot stop you. But I want you to keep it secret and safe.”

Twilight furrowed her brow. She cleared a large area and wrote swiftly. I want to show this to Cadence. I want all four of us to discuss it.

Luna felt her chest tighten. “I suppose that’s fair. I admit I have questions of my own.”

Twilight strapped her saddlebags tight to her sides. She stood before Luna, looking at her hooves. She glanced at Hurricane, then shook her head.

Luna reached around Twilight and pulled her close. “I am sorry. I just… I find myself upset. It’s not your fault. You should not have to bear the brunt.”

She whispered. “I would not trust anypony else with this book. I know you shall do great things. You shall do what Hurricane could not. What Sombra could never.”

Twilight rested her cheek on Luna’s shoulder and stared at the city. Canterlot lay in ruins. Cloudsdale was a scattered collection of clouds. Fires yet raged. Ponies still needed to be rescued.

She pulled away and spread her lavender wings. See you later.

Luna watched her take off, saying nothing. She was left alone with the pyre. She let her eyes drift down to the immolating pegasus. “Too many to bury, too many to mourn. This is the legacy you created for yourself, Hurricane. Two cities worth of refugees with nowhere to go.”

Luna spread her wings, casting long shadows across the cemetery. “I am not prepared to give in. Canterlot is my home, and I shall see it beautiful once more. I want to take back what was stolen. Make new what was tossed aside.”

She let her head dip down. “Somehow.”

She stepped forward. Her hoof crushed a page of Twilight’s notes. She picked the scrap up and read it in the firelight. I love you, Luna. No matter what.

Luna folded the page and set it on the pyre. It vanished instantly. “I love you, too, Twilight Sparkle. So very much.”

She flew towards the city. The fire burned bright on the side of Canter Mountain. It shone like a beacon to the dark valley below. The light could be seen for miles as Hurricane turned to ash on the wind.

***

Rarity looked upon her demolished shop with a mild grumble. She had just finished the payments, too. It was obnoxious.

But there were far greater problems than obnoxious assassins.

It seemed Rarity herself wasn’t the one hit the hardest by the attack. All around, she could see ponies limping away from the shambles that had become of their homes. People lending each other aid, mending their wounds, comforting each other.

She shook out her mane and turned to the mare beside her. Rainbow Dash lay on a stretcher, a brace wrapped around her neck. Her back had been injured, sure enough, right down to the spine. Surgery and ambrosia would aid in giving back her mobility. She would fly within the month, and be back in the Wonderbolts in twice that time.

But that wouldn’t help the emotional scars.

Rainbow Dash stared at the clouds overhead. Her eyes had long dried out, the dampness on her face freezing over. Her efforts to hold back just made her cry harder.

Cloudsdale was gone. Shattered into a million pieces. Its vast towers and beautiful skyways turned to rubbish, its glistening rainbows long since blown away. Rainbow’s childhood home. Her favorite city in Equestria. Nothing but a shadow of its former self.

“Rarity,” she croaked. “promise me you’ll find my dad. Make sure he’s okay.”

“I will.” Rarity rubbed Rainbow Dash’s foreleg. “You can count on me. Nothing will be able to stop me.”

Rainbow Dash looked down. She pressed her lips together. “Sorry about your house.”

“Your sympathy is appreciated.” Rarity rested her head against Rainbow Dash, careful not to move her. “I am just glad I didn’t lose anything irreplaceable.”

She flickered her eyelashes, certain that her mascara was about to run horrendously. “I’m not the one who needs comforting, though.”

Rainbow Dash wrinkled her muzzle. She scratched at her brace. “Everyone around me has such a sucky life.”

Rarity lifted her head. “What?”

“Applejack has such an awful time as mayor.” Rainbow Dash blinked, watching ponies walk past. “I can try to make fun of it, but I can tell she hurts, even while she’s laughing. Scootaloo, when she found out she couldn’t fly, she came to me for help. I didn’t do anything but make it worse. When Twilight Sparkle got her freaking throat cut, there wasn’t anything I could do but open by big, fat, stupid mouth!”

She sniffled. “I never know what to do, and I can never say the right thing. I suck as a friend.”

Rainbow hit her hoof against the stretcher. “And now the whole cussing city is gone, and I wasn’t there to protect it!”

“Because you were busy!” Rarity said. “Saving my life and the lives of my assistants. You nearly died protecting us. Forgive me for being selfish, but I am rather grateful you were there!”

Rainbow Dash pressed her nose against the cloth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know.” Rarity patted her. “But you need to put certain things into perspective. Without you, I would have died. Me and all my patrons. We needed you. Would you rather have joined the battle only to get cut down by the assassin’s army? I think not, nor would any of us have preferred that. You were there for us.”

Rarity bobbed her head. “And I believe that, Rainbow Dash, is your greatest triumph. Even when things are difficult, even when there is no proper solution, you are there for us. All of us. With your drive and your passion and your strength.”

Rarity cupped Rainbow Dash’s cheeks. “Thank you, Rainbow Dash, for saving me. The very instant you are well, I shall have to give you a proper hug.”

“Make it a double.” Rainbow Dash bared her teeth in a tired smile. It faded from her face, replaced with a peaceful sigh. She sniffed hard. “So what now?”

“Now…” Rarity looked over the desolation. “Now I feel the need to help.”

She chewed her lip. “I have had this idea for years now. A home, in the midst of Canterlot’s streets, where the needy are welcome. Where I can take an active part in helping them, feeding them, getting them back on their feet. With warm beds and good food and smiling faces.”

Rainbow Dash lifted her eyes to the sky. A flight of guards soared through the night. “Some sort of charity?”

“Essentially. It would be a sort of… homely house.” Rarity tilted her head. “Never has it been more needed, and never have I been in a better position to make it happen.”

Rainbow closed her eyes. “It’s a beautiful idea, Rarity.”

Rarity tittered. “It takes one to know one, my friend.”

***

Care Carrot opened her eyes. She felt the crusty things that got stuck on her eyelashes. She felt bruised and battered. Scabbed and scarred. She lifted her head, decided it was a bad idea, and settled back against a downy pillow. She shut her eyes until her head stopped swimming. “Ouch.”

It hurt to speak. Her throat was so dry. “Water?”

“Y-you’re awake.” A voice to her side shook as it spoke. “She’s awake!”

The shout hurt her ears. “Shaddap.”

“S-sorry.” Blankety Blank hovered into view. He edged a straw towards her lips. “Just a s-sip, now. Easy d-does it.”

The water was the absolute best thing ever. She looked around the room as it came into focus. She was hooked up to more wires than she’d seen in her life. “What happened? Is the battle over?”

“Y-yes. We won.” Blankety tapped his hooves. “Mostly. Hurricane’s gone, but so is most of Cloudsdale and Canterlot.”

Care groaned and turned her head to the side so that she could see the door. Her ear folded up beneath her, and she lifted her head to set it free. She tried to rub her chest, but the wires got in the way of her hooves. “How bad?”

“C-Cloudsdale’s unlivable. The refugees are heading to Manehattan, Baltimare, and Ponyville, looking for work and homes. Canterlot’s rubble. Even the castle’s d-damaged.”

Care blew a breath through her lips. “So what do we do?”

The door swung open, admitting Twilight Velvet and Daring Do. “You,” Velvet said, “have to rest and recuperate. You’ve earned that much. We can talk about taking action after you’re off bed rest.”

Care smiled. She pulled her forelegs from beneath the covers and laid them beside her torso. “It’s déjà vu all over again, that old familiar feeling. I get to wait in a hospital while everybody else has a piece of the action.”

She let a frown crawl across her face. She did a quick headcount and came up short. “Where’s Time?”

Daring Do hunched her shoulders. She looked at Care with tired eyes. “We went down into the crystal mines to stop Dulcimer. He didn’t make it out.”

Care laid her ears back. “I’m sorry. That’s just…” She shook her head slowly. “And Dulcimer?”

“We killed the son of a gun super-dead.” Daring Do grinned and punched Care in the shoulder. Lightly. “It was the stuff of legends. Pretty much like Blank said you were.”

Care felt a smile tug at her mouth. She let out a hiccup of a laugh. “Yeah. It was kinda great.” She looked Velvet square in the eyes. “I beat Hurricane in a straight fight. She blindsided me, and Blank was the guy that defeated her once and for all, but I had her.”

Twilight Velvet gave the captain a slow nod. She leaned her head back slightly. “So? How do you feel now that it’s over?”

Care waved her hoof over the diodes and IVs. “Honestly? Crummy. And hurt. And tired. And…” She scrunched her muzzle. “Sad.”

Daring snorted. “Join the club, Cap.”

Velvet lowered her brows. “Daring—”

“I mean that sincerely.” Daring Do rubbed the back of her neck, before laying her hoof on Care’s shoulder. “I meant that I get how you feel. It feel less like we won and more like we just, I dunno, survived.”

“Th-there’s no victory celebration after this,” Blankety said. “No parades or parties. Just rebuilding.”

Daring grimaced. “And remembering. And regretting.”

Care put her hoof on Daring’s. “And rallying.”

Velvet gave them a small smile. “Care’s right. We gotta stick together. More now than ever.”

Daring squeezed Care’s shoulder. She stepped towards Velvet. “Yeah? How so?”

“I’m retiring from the police force.” Twilight Velvet rolled her shoulders. “I’m joining the Knights of Harmony full-time as the head of the table. The Knight of Counsel, I think I’m gonna be called. I’ll be directing the knights on their missions. Making sure everybody’s coordinated and working together.”

Care Carrot tapped her hooves together. “So that if we ever find ourselves in a situation like this again, we’ll have a team ready in no time.”

“Exactly.”

Daring Do scowled lightly. “This means you’re my boss again, doesn’t it?”

“Think of it as more like I’m your supervisor.” Velvet lifted her head high. “Your very close, highly-suspicious supervisor.”

Blank leaned close to Care and spoke out of the side of his mouth. “Is-is it too late to transfer to a different team?”

Care snickered. “I think that ship sailed long ago.”

Daring Do laughed. She picked her pith helmet up off the table and set it deliberately on her head. “It’s good to see you doing good, Cap. Sorry I gotta leave, guys, but there’s something in Ponyville that needs taking care of.”

“See you, Daring.” Care waved a hoof. “Thanks.”

Daring walked out the door with a wink. “Thank you.”

Twilight Velvet tapped Blankety’s shoulder and motioned for the doorway. “We need to get a move on, too. There’s somepony else who wants to see you, and we’d like to give you a moment alone.”

“Ooh.” Care moved her foreleg behind her head and rested against it. “Do I have some sort of secret admirer? I hear heroes have those.”

Blankety burst into sputtering laughs. He walked towards the door, shaking all the way.

Care wrinkled her nose. “Did I say something funny?”

“Oh, you’ve got an admirer.” He chuckled and rested his hoof on the doorframe. “He couldn’t keep it secret to save his life!”

Care raised an eyebrow. She met Velvet’s matching expression. “Explanation?”

“We all deal with stress differently,” Velvet said. “I have long suspected that Blankety is a well-obsessed gossip.”

Care crossed her forelegs. “So spill it. Is he a hottie?”

Blank grinned wide. “Spoilers.” He vanished through the door.

“Okay, then.” Care Carrot pulled her covers up to her chin. “I guess I’ll see you around, Lady Velvet.”

“More than you know.” Velvet rubbed Care’s leg. “It was an honor fighting by your side.”

“For me, too.” Care nibbled her lower lip. “It’s… nice to know that some heroes really do live up to the stories.”

“Like I said—” Velvet trotted over and placed her hoof on the door handle. “—keep writing stories of your own.”

After she left, Care heard her voice behind the door. “She’s ready to see you, Princess.”

“Princess huh?” Care snuggled deeper into her blankets. “Luna or Twilight?”

With a click of her hooves, Princess Celestia walked into the room.

Care Carrot nearly fell out of the bed. She brushed frantically at her coat. “P-Princess! Wow. You’re looking—a lot better than the last time I saw you.”

“I could say the same for you.” Celestia chuckled. She sat down in a beside chair. “If you hadn’t been dressed in your finest clothes and makeup when we were at the opera.”

“Oof. You should have seen me after Hurricane threw me from the balcony. I was one messed-up pony.” Care grinned, but her heart ached. “How are you really? Your Majesty.”

“Celestia is fine, Care.” Celestia reached out and patted the bed. “I don’t believe I have the right to demand titles after what happened these last few weeks. Not from you.”

Care shook her head. “It’s how I show respect. It’s how I try to, at least.”

“Yes, well, I think you’ve earned a break from showing respect.” Celestia hefted her shoulders upward. “Or some sort of reprieve. I don’t know. Just call me Celestia. It’ll make me feel better.”

“Okay… Celestia.” Care snorted and waved a limp hoof. “No, no, no, it sounds wrong. Celestia, She Who Raises the Morning Sun, sounds better. And oh-so informal, too.”

Celestia rolled her eyes. “Now you’re teasing me.”

“I’m jesting.” Care’s smiled faded like a puff of smoke. “So how are you really?”

Celestia leaned forward and let her wings droop to the floor. “I wasn’t escaping that one, was I?”

“Nope.”

Celestia looked across the room. With most of the hospital in various states of damage, Care had been moved into a repurposed waiting room. The offensively boring wallpaper glared a pale green. “The surgery was a success. I now have the heart of a unicorn. The power of a unicorn.”

“So…” Care looked over the deep scar in Celestia’s chest. The hair was just beginning to grow over it. “The sun…”

“I shall never again be able to raise it alone.” Celestia coughed. She gave Care a sad smile. “It’s not as terrible a fate as the one you averted.”

Care played with a strand of her long mane. “I couldn’t stop her from hurting you.”

“But you still saved my life.” Celestia’s prismatic mane flowed around her shoulders as she leaned closer. “Without you, Hurricane would have finished me. Without you, she would have escaped to attempt it again. I owe you a great debt.”

Care bobbed her head. Her chest still felt tight. “How long will that heart last? It isn’t immortal, so…”

Celestia’s mouth became a thin, terse line. “In fifty-odd years, I shall require the procedure again or I shall die.”

Care closed her eyes. “You’ll never be whole again.”

“I…” Celestia’s throat bobbed and strained her words. “I have been whole a very limited amount of times in my life. When I was crowned princess. When my sister was saved. When Twilight Sparkle ascended. All other times, I have been shambling along with what few pieces I was able to pick up and carry.”

Celestia relaxed her shoulders and let her wings spread out against the floor. “But… that is not to say that my life is not good. It is a mixed bag of happy, sad, light, and dark, just as anyone’s. It is not easy, but I will not give it up as long as I can help it.”

Care gasped as Celestia gathered her up in a close, soft hug. “Thank you,” the princess said, “for making that possible.”

The captain wrapped her forelegs around Celestia’s long neck. She patted her back. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

Celestia released her and sat up. She smiled down at the unicorn mare. “I have a proposition for you.”

“Uh oh. Sounds like work.” Care stretched her hind legs out, then regretted it when pain washed over her torso. “Ow. Shoot.”

“I don’t want you to return to my guard.”

Care sat up in bed, her eyes wide. “What?”

“Whoa, easy!” Celestia pressed her hooves against Care’s shoulders and laid her back on the bed. “It isn’t like that. I mean that I want to promote you, essentially.”

Pain dotted Care’s chest wherever a wired diode contacted her skin. “I shouldn’t have done that. Ow.”

“Sorry.” Celestia gritted her teeth. “Over a thousand years and I’m still bad at that.”

She waved a hoof. “I’ve shifted Windblown from my guard to Twilight’s. She needs a dedicated assemblage of bodyguards. Skyhook has volunteered to transfer from Luna’s guard as well. But you, I don’t believe you’re a guard anymore. I think you’ve shown your mettle to be something slightly different. Tell me, did you enjoy working with Velvet, Blankety, and Daring?”

Care’s cheeks flushed bright red. “I—Honestly, not at first. But they grew on me. I would fight with those guys anytime.”

“Then would you accept a commission to join the Knights of Harmony?” Celestia’s face was serene and powerful, the image of a princess. “Would you be the first and last line of defense? Would you give your life to protect this country and its people? Would you use your unique skills and abilities to prove yourself the best of the best?”

Celestia sighed through her nose. “This country needs strong defenders like you, Care. Now more than ever.”

Captain Care Carrot looked into Celestia’s sparkling eyes. Years of experience lay behind them, with thousands of ponies and dozens of choices. Yet here she was, choosing Care to be a knight.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Care said. “I accept this honor and duty.”

“Thank you. So much.” Celestia smiled. “We will make it official at a later date. For now, you need to gain strength. Equestria is a precious thing, and it needs its guardians to be strong.”

Care shut her eyes and settled into the bed. “As you command, Celestia.”

Celestia closed the door gently, cutting off quiet snores. She looked down the hallway of the dilapidated hospital. She hung her head. “Now to business.”

***

Daring Do wore black. It was really just a windbreaker and sunglasses, but it was as dark as her wardrobe ever got. It felt appropriate.

Dinky and Derpy stood a few meters away from her, dressed in their finest clothes. Makeup ran down their faces from when they’d been crying. They watched quietly as the casket was lowered into the hard earth.

Ponyville’s diamond dog chaplain stood nearby with a book in his hand. He spoke with faint whimpers. “This coffin hold earth pony soldier; brave soul who fell defending princess and country. He be honored by family, and live on in story told by those that love him. May they one day reunite.”

He motioned to Daring. “Widow first.”

Daring Do choked on her own spit. He hadn’t referred to her by anything else since the ceremony began; something to do with diamond dog naming conventions. She didn’t see herself as a widow, seeing as how they’d been married a grand total of thirty seconds before he—

Daring Do blinked the tears from her eyes. “Yeah. Sure.”

She took the shovel in her hoof and scooped a plot of dirt onto the casket. Time Turner lay below her, dressed in his finest suit, wearing a special, silver pocket watch Dinky had made just for him. The cover of the coffin was plain wood, polished to a sheen.

She held the shovel out to the other two mares. “Here.”

Derpy marched forward, refusing to look Daring in the eye. She pulled the shovel away, tossed dirt into the hole, and stabbed the blade into the earth. She sobbed as she moved back to Dinky.

Dinky Do hugged her mother with a tight squeeze. She sidled past her, took the shovel gently, and scooped a large lump of soil into the grave. She blew a kiss to Time, and returned to comfort her mother.

The chaplain raised his paw over his head. “Open now to anypony else who knew Time Turner.”

A few people from the town had showed up to pay homage to Time’s memory. They walked up one by one, shoveled dirt into the grave, and gave their condolences to Daring, Dinky, and Derpy. Daring Do had never been spoken to by so many strangers in all her life, let alone ones wishing her well.

The diamond dog chaplain patted down the final scoop of soil. “Sons of earth, return to clay from whence you come. Bring life to land you worked, that others may follow in your stead.”

After the others had left, Derpy hugged Dinky close. “I’m gonna go home,” she whispered. “I need to work through this.”

“Okay, Mom.” Dinky squeezed her mother tight. “I’ll take care of the will. You rest.”

Derpy flew away, leaving Dinky and Daring standing alone on the plot of land. Dinky looked Daring up and down. “So. I guess he made a decision about you.”

“Kinda.” Daring pulled off her sunglasses and stuffed them in a chest pocket. “He… he said he was happy. For even a little bit, he was happy.”

Dinky scrunched her muzzle as she held back tears. “Good,” she squeaked. She shook her head. “Follow me. There’s something we have to take care of back at the shop.”

Words caught in Daring’s throat on their way out. She trotted to catch up to the young mare. “D-Dinky!”

“We can talk about it there,” Dinky said.

“We have to talk about it now.” Daring Do sniffled. “Look, I’m sure there’s some sort of legalese mumbo-jumbo about how the widow gets it all—”

“Everything.” Dinky’s voice warbled. “You own everything Mr. Turner had.”

“I have no right to—”

“No.” Dinky gazed at Daring. “You have every right. Literally.”

“I have legal rights,” Daring shouted, “which don’t mean jack!”

Daring Do paced across the sidewalk while Dinky looked on. “He was your family forever,” Daring said. “He was only mine for like, what, a month? If that? No, I don’t get any rights here. I can’t replace him, I can’t give him back to you, but I can at least ensure that you guys live comfortably. At least—”

Daring stomped a hoof. She rubbed her face and sighed. “At least give me that much. Everything in the will, it’s yours. The shop. The tools. The clocks. The clothes. Sell ’em, keep ’em, use ’em, whatever. Just…” She tugged at her collar. “Let me do something to honor his memory. To honor the life he had with you.”

Dinky frowned. She nodded. “Thank you.”

Daring faked a dashing smile. “Cool. Glad that’s settled. I’ll see you—”

“I’m not done.” Dinky grabbed Daring’s hoof. “I told you, there’s something we need to take care of at the shop.”

Daring Do’s eyes went wide. “Oh. What?”

Dinky led her to Time Turner’s clock shop. She had Daring wait beside the front counter while she went into the back room. After a few moments of fidgeting, Daring heard her coming out.

Dinky laid a box on the counter and slid it across. “I… I made this when I heard about… about him and you. It helps me cope. Doing things with my hooves.”

Daring Do leaned over the box. She clicked the latch, lifted the lid, and peered inside. A sparkling silver pocket watch lay inside, etched with gold lines. She eased it out and clicked it open. A photo lay behind the arms: She and Time embracing.

“I took the picture after we had our talk.” Dinky’s horn flashed as she took the empty box back. “I figured if you and him were gonna be a thing, we needed to start storing memories. Giant photo albums are kinda a thing with us.”

Daring Do felt numb and cold. The watch hung limply on her hoof. She turned to Dinky, unable to speak.

“You don’t…” Dinky rubbed her cheek. “You don’t have to run away from this relationship. We’ll be here for you. You were Mr. Turner’s, so that makes you family. If you ever need anything, just drop by. Visit us.”

She flicked a hoof. “I know Mom’s upset, but she’ll warm up to you. Just don’t run. Stay and be a family. I love Time, and he loves you, so… so there.”

Dinky rubbed her hooves together. “That’s how I wanna honor him.”

Daring Do stared at the pocket watch. She stared at Time. He smiled at her, both in and out of the picture. She shut the watch and hung it around her neck. Her lips trembled. “Wh—where do we start?”

“You wanna come over for dinner tonight?” Dinky leaned against the counter. “We’re having spinach lasagna. You can meet my boyfriend. You’ll like him. He’s from Trottingham, just like Mr. Turner.”

“Sexy accent and all, huh?” Daring let out a shaky, tearful laugh. “Y-you sure know how to pick ’em.”

Dinky walked around the counter and held her forelegs out. After a moment’s thought, Daring reached back.

Daring Do and Dinky Doo shared a hug in Dinky’s Clock Shop.

***

Merry Mare walked through the cemetery on the way back from Time’s funeral. She carried a dozen flowers, but they weren’t for Turner. They were for somepony else. Somepony special.

She moved past the massive family monuments, around several hefty tombstones with flowery script and poetic epitaphs. She came to a bare patch in the grave yard, with simple plaques laid into the sleeping, brown grass.

She stopped beside one in particular. She placed the flowers into the vase sunk into the ground beside it. She touched the name carved into the marble. “Happy.”

Tears poured from Merry Mare’s eyes. “I’m sorry… I was so close.”

Something touched her shoulder. She yelped and whirled on the pony.

Fluttershy jerked back and hid beneath her mane. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I just saw you and thought…”

Merry pulled her glasses off and rubbed her eyes with a harsh hoof. “I’m sorry, too. You just startled me. Were you at Time’s funeral, too?”

“Yes.” Fluttershy pulled a blue flower from her mane. She placed it in the vase. “I was planning on coming here later, but I saw you and… and wanted to say hi.”

They sat together beside Happy’s grave, Fluttershy’s wing embracing Merry Mare. She wiped her tears with the other wing, humming a soft tune.

“I go about life,” Merry said. “I spend every day doing… things… I think I’m past it. I think I’m finally better. I think I can finally move on. And then today comes.”

She sealed a sob in her throat, preventing it from coming out. “I really miss him today.”

“I do, too.” Fluttershy pressed her cheek against Merry’s. “It was years before I stopped blaming myself. I hope you know it wasn’t your fault, either.”

Merry bit down on her tongue until it bled. “If I hadn’t hired Amber Waves to babysit, you two wouldn’t have gotten lost.”

“It’s over.” Fluttershy placed a firm hoof on Merry’s shoulder. “It’s done. Mourn Happy, and don’t focus on your anger. It’ll just hurt you.”

Merry rested her forehead on Fluttershy’s shoulder. She grabbed the pegasus’ foreleg with a surprisingly strong grip. With a sigh, she let go. “I know. You’re right as always, Fluttershy.”

She stood, and Fluttershy stood beside her. Fluttershy fluffed her wings. “Do you wanna come over and have some tea? It always calms my nerves.”

“Yes,” Merry said. “Thank you very much, Fluttershy.”

Merry walked ahead, and Fluttershy took a moment to straighten out the flowers. They hung over Happy’s gravestone, slowly decaying in the wintery air. “Goodbye, my friend.”

Fluttershy lifted her head. A few rows back, she could see another familiar grave. She glanced to make sure that Merry was far enough ahead, then hopped over to it. She pulled another flower from her mane and laid it before the headstone, which read: Amber Waves, beloved Mother, Wife, and Friend.

“It wasn’t you fault either, Missus Waves,” Fluttershy whispered. “It was mine. I wanted to see the Everfree creatures, not Happy. It was my fault we snuck out. It was my fault he… he…”

Fluttershy clenched her jaw. “Why did you kill yourself, Missus Waves? Why did you leave your family like that? It wasn’t your fault.”

“Fluttershy!” Merry Mare called from across the yard. “Is something the matter?”

“No, Merry!” Fluttershy wiped her eyes with her scarf. “I’m fine. I’m fine! I’m coming. I just saw something that made me think.”

When she reached Merry’s side, they started off towards Fluttershy’s cottage. They avoided small talk and eye contact. They almost avoided talking altogether, until Merry spoke up.

“Thinking is fine,” she said. “It’s feeling that hurts.”

“Feelings remind us that we’re alive.” Fluttershy looked around her property. Most of the animals had gone into hibernation in preparation for the winter cold. A few winter birds warbled from the trees, while a squirrel scrambled through the dirt to find his store of nuts. “They keep us equine.”

Merry turned bloodshot eyes on Fluttershy. “If that’s so, then I am the single most equine pony in the whole horseapple-encrusted world.”

Fluttershy’s own reddened eyes turned hard. “We all feel loss, Merry. We all feel pain and hurt. Don’t get confused and think that good things are impossible.”

Her face softened. She touched Merry’s cheek with a feather. “No, not impossible. Just hard won.”

Merry’s ears drooped. She looked up at Fluttershy with fresh tears. “I know. Hard won.”

Fluttershy led her by the hoof. “Come on. I’ll put the tea on. You have a seat and unwind.”

Merry plopped down on Fluttershy’s couch. Angel Bunny raced past her, hopped back to sniff her feet, then careened into the kitchen to demand carrots.

Merry Mare, former Mayor of Ponyville, hung her head. She fiddled with the doily on the coffee table. She reached beneath her glasses to wipe her eyes occasionally.

The teapot whistled. Merry’s neck muscles clenched. “Hard won.”

Angel Bunny leaned through the doorway. He squinted at her.

She scowled at him, causing him to fall back. He scrambled for a suitable hiding hole in his little playhouse. She switched her expression to one of calm serenity, preparing herself for a lovely tea with Fluttershy. The muscles in her chest refused to unknot.

“I want my son back.”

The Aftermath

Homecoming

A carriage rumbled through the roads north of Manehattan. The taxi driver glanced back at his payload, which had been silent since the trip began.

Care Carrot leaned out the window, watching the familiar landscape slide past. Rolling farmlands lay patchwork white in the wintery ground. There was a dormant cornfield. Wheat grew across the road. In the fall, the hills were orange with pumpkins.

The driver stopped at the end of a long, dirt driveway. He nodded back to her. “Manehattan Carrot Farm.”

Care opened the door and shuffled through her pockets for bits. After a moment’s thought, she pulled out a silver piece for the tip.

The driver took the varied change with a smile. “Thank you kindly, ma’am. Have a happy holidays!”

“You, too.” Her hooves crunched gravel as she walked. The farmhouse was at the top of the hill, as picturesque as it ever was. Light shone in the windows, the small candles being the only decoration needed to make it beautiful and festive. A hint of the ornamented pine tree peeked through the living room window.

She climbed onto the porch. The boards creaked in all the familiar places, alongside a few new noisy patches. She stood before the door, chewing the inside of her cheek, before knocking three times.

The door was answered by a small earth pony colt. He gazed at her with suspicion. When she smiled at him, he gasped and slammed the door. She heard him running through the house, shouting “Care’s here! Care’s here!”

There was a thump as somepony stubbed their hoof. Care took a step back and listed to muffled voices asking him why he didn’t let her in. The door handle jiggled and turned.

She found herself facing two earth ponies, a stallion and a mare. The stallion’s droopy mustache shook. The mare dabbed her eyes with her shawl.

Care smiled nervously. “Mom? Dad?”

They surged forward and enveloped Care with a firm hug. She nuzzled up against them, letting herself breathe a sigh of relief. She opened her eyes and sucked on her lip. “I… I have a lot to tell you guys.”

They let her come inside, where it was warm and cozy. The little colt stood firm, blocking her path. “You’re late for supper!”

Care ruffled his mane. “I missed you, too, Sprout.”

She was greeted by her sisters next, one older and one younger, with firm yet unsure hugs. The six of them sat around the table, with Hearth’s Warming supper laid out in all its glory.

They listened intently as Care relayed her story. She watched as various expressions flitted over their faces. Sorrow, anger, fear, unease, but always with a little happiness hovering along the edges. Her older sister tensed when she was hurt. Her younger sister laughed at Daring’s antics. Her little brother Sprout cheered when she battled Hurricane. Her father teared up when she spoke of her knighting, while her mother cried openly.

At the end of her tale, she wasn’t sure what else to say. So they didn’t say anything—they just sat together, enjoying being together. It didn’t take long for Sprout to get restless and strongly suggest they do something fun.

Care’s father told him to get his violin, while Care’s older sister sat at the family piano. Sprout was a novice player, the piano was out of tune, and nobody had much talent for singing.

To Care’s ears, it still sounded pretty darn good.

“When the snow begins falling
And days become shorter
Hope hovers like dust in the air

“Then family comes calling
To wood, brick, and mortar
But home can be found everywhere”

***

Offspring

The iron, enchanted cell door crashed closed behind Caution. He looked back with his one good eye, giving a fiery glare to the prison guard. “Oi can walk by myself, thankee.”

The guard scowled and disappeared down the hall, into the glare of the light.

Caution brushed himself off. The floor was swamped with dust. The walls were covered with odd little symbols, carved by previous inmates. A single, solitary, barred window lay above him, letting in the sunlight. Closer inspection revealed that it was actually an artificial lamp; he was too far underground for the light to penetrate.

“Welcome to the ninth circle of hell,” said a voice from across the hall.

Caution peered through his bars. A donkey jack lay in the other cell. He wore a purple robe with a thin gold belt. One of his rear legs was missing.

“Aspen the Alliterative?” Caution muttered. “How did you end up in a pony prison?”

“Lightninggale has no prisons secure enough to hold traitors.” Aspen leaned back in his cot. He slurped from a bowl in his hooves. “Therein lies the bitter irony.”

The donkey squinted. “Why are you here? I suppose it has something to do with the attack on Celestia.”

Caution ground his hoof into the cold stone floor. “Somethin’ like that.”

“Hmm.” Aspen glanced into his empty bowl and tossed it across the room. “I half-expected the perpetrators of that crime would have been sent straight to Tartarus.”

“Tartarus is for immortals.” Caution thumped down on his bed. He stared at the dark little corner where the toilet and sink lay. “The people they send here are slightly more temporary inmates.”

“Oh, of course,” Aspen said. “We’re only here for life.”

Caution leaned against the wall. He was content to stay silent, but Aspen spoke up. “I thought I recognized you,” he said. “You can tell a lot about a person by their hat… even when they no longer wear it. You were one of Celestia’s bodyguards.”

Caution laughed. “You c’n tell so much about me, except for the fact that oi don’t wanna listen to your horseapples.”

“I have to find some way to amuse myself in Solitaire.”

“Then amuse yerself quietly.” Caution put his hooves behind his head. He scratched an itch on the tip of his nose.

Aspen’s bed groaned. The donkey scrambled across it, pulling up the sheets. “Oh my—”

Caution rolled his eyes. “What are you on about now?”

Further complains died deep in Caution’s chest. In the hallway, between the two cells, right underneath a bright lamp, there was a black, writhing, growing shadow. Tendrils snaked around the bars. Whispering voices tickled his ears. A strong sense of cold pervaded the prison.

Caution stood up and jumped immediately to the bars. “Did you find her? Did you bring her? Where is she?”

The blob of darkness shrunk in on itself, taking solid form. It shifted into the shape of a pony—a gray coat was covered with a plain, black suit. It placed a boater hat on its head. “Caution. Pleasant to see you.”

“Where is she?” Caution pressed his face against the iron. “You promised you would find her!”

“Yes, yes, we’ve all made promises.” The pony smiled politely. “Yourself included.”

Caution opened his mouth. He swallowed hard. “I did as you asked. I let Hurricane get through. Later, I even shut off Celestia’s life support for you. She died.”

“But she is not dead.” The gray pony shrugged. “Does it really count if it didn’t take?”

Caution reached for the pony. It backed away, waving him off. “Whoa, whoa,” it said. “Ask a simple, easy question…”

It glanced back at Aspen. ”Hi. Be seeing you later.”

Aspen hid behind his cot.

“Listen. Listen to me.” The pony tapped its forehead and kept its eyes on Caution. “The Unseelie Court agrees that you did indeed fulfill part of your obligation. In turn, we agreed that we should fulfill part of ours.”

Caution sat down, gripping the bars. “Which part?”

“We agreed to find and deliver the mare you love.” The pony lifted his hooves to one side, and then carried them to the other. “You promised to injure and kill Celestia. Well, you injured her, so we found her. It’s fairly equivalent.”

Caution let his head droop. “Where is Aria?”

“A land far from Equestria. Basically unreachable.” The pony tilted its head up. “Unless the sirens succeed in their plans.”

Caution shut his eyes tight. He stomped the floor.

The pony dug through his suit pocket. “I did have something to give you. Evidence that we did indeed find her. One of her letters.”

Caution blinked. He pressed his teeth together. “Letters to who?”

“To you, of course.” The pony let out a light chuckle. “She never got up the nerve to send them, it seems. They are rather sweet.”

“Give it here!” Caution leaped up. He held his hoof out desperately. “Please. Give me something of her.”

The pony dangled the page from his hoof. Caution snatched it away with a hasty swipe.

He pulled the paper close. It was unmistakably her looping mouthwriting. It was obviously unfinished, not even a draft. Just thoughts and scribbles. There were three variations of “Dear Caution” at the beginning. Most of the body of the text was crossed out and blotted. Random song lyrics dotted the margins.

But it was hers.

Caution pressed it against his chest. He let out a harsh breath. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

The gray pony bared its teeth in a slick smile. “I hope you enjoy every last word.”

Caution’s eyes trailed across the page, picking out individual words and phrases. He stopped. His eyes widened.

Caution I love— I wanted to tell you— We were going to have— I got pregnant.

“How long have you two been separated?’ The gray pony cupped its chin. “Nearly eighteen years? I wonder if that means anything.”

Caution’s breath came in short, gasping stops. He found other words among the scribbles. Daughter showed up three times. Left her. Wanted to tell you. Scared. Left her. Abandoned. Alley. Gone. Left her.

The gray pony giggled. He faded away into shadow. “I hope you two are very happy together.”

“I have a daughter?” Caution looked up at the pony. “I’m a father?”

The pony didn’t answer. He vanished piece by piece, until nothing was left but his sparkly-white grin.

“You have to explain this!” Caution rattled the bars of his cell. “Take me to her! Take me!”

Caution grabbed his cot and ripped it out of the wall. It hit the iron bars with a resounding clang. “Where is my love? Where is my daughter?”

“Guards!” Aspen screamed. “Help! Guards!”

The guards stormed down the hallway. One shot a dart into Caution’s cell, hitting him right in the neck. Sedatives flowed through the powerful earth pony, relaxing his muscles and clouding his mind. “Aria!”

He collapsed onto his side. The guards opened the cell and tied him up in a straightjacket. Caution’s head lolled. “Aria…”

He lay with his cheek against the cement floor. He stared at the letter, with guards restraining him all the while. He glared. “Aria… why didn’t you tell me?”

The final word on the letter, hidden beneath chicken scratch and spilled ink, could barely be made out. Caution was familiar with the word. He had seen it. He had been there. He knew ponies from the place.

Ponyville.

“Oi’ll find her, Aria,” Caution whispered. “Oi’ll make this right. Oi swear oi’ll make this right.”

***

Alliance

Seabreeze decided he was spending far too much time in Beefland; the land of giant, klutzy minotaurs and their enormous, rampant biceps. If he wasn’t dodging hooves he was tumbling out of control from some loser’s uncontrolled sneeze. Up ahead, he saw the least annoying of the species: President Mangle. The massive minotaur politician ran his fingers through his beard, looking over some paperwork that Seabreeze couldn’t care less about if he tried.

“Vhee hev a situation,” Seabreeze said, trying to parse the ugly, unwieldy, slow language of Equish. “And vhee need to discuss it now!”

“You’re telling me?” Mangle let the next year’s budget flop to the table. “First Celestia gets attacked, then it seems like everybody’s getting assassinated, and now you wanna tell me there was a minor war in Equestria? What in the name of all things beefy is going on?”

“Vhat happened vhas exactly vhat vhee vhere afraid of.” Seabreeze landed and paced across the length of Mangle’s desk. “Celestia made a poor decision and paid the price. Vhee hev all been in danger ever since! Vhat can vhee do to prevent the vherld from gooing oop in flames?”

Mangle tapped the tips of his fingers against the budget. His massive chest muscles expanded with a strong breath. “I think there’s only one thing we can do…”

“Really?” Seabreeze fluttered up and bopped Mangle on the nose. “Then please, share vheeth the audience vhat is so obvious!”

“If Celestia falls again,” Mangle said, “we have to be ready to take control of the sun.”

“Th—Take control oof—” Seabreeze floated gently to the desk. “Great Scott.”

“This is beefy,” Mangle said. He pressed his palms together with all his might. “But it’s gotta be done. If Celestia loses control of the sun, all that stands between the world and eternal darkness is…”

“An ex-psycho, a librarian, and a supermodel.” Seabreeze scratched his head. “Is Cadenza a supermodel, or is she joost that pretty?”

“Out of the three, I give Cadenza the most credit.” Mangle shrugged shoulders the size of one pony each. “I mean, she’s the one who’s an actual politician.”

He pressed three fingers against his forehead. “Whatever. We’re getting off-track. Point is, we gotta find out how ponies control the sun, and then try to replicate that effect with what we have.”

Seabreeze slapped a hoof to his face. “And eyew make it sound sooo easy.”

“Well, it’s simple, not easy.”

Seabreeze sat down. He flicked his curly mane back and steadied himself, finding his center with an easy breath. He smiled up at Mangle. “Ookay. Ookay. Say eyew’re noot crazy. Say I go along weeth thees madness. Vhere vhould vhee start?”

Mangle blinked. He blinked again. He blinked some more.

Seabreeze leaped up with a shout. “Eyew already deed soomthing, deedn’t eyew? Deedn’t eyew? Eyew deed soomting stoopid!”

“Calm down, beef bro,” Mangle said, raising his hands in defense. “I didn’t do anything without thinking it through. The help sort of just… plopped into my lap. In a way. Metaphorically.”

“Eyew are a living oxymoron!” Seabreeze crossed his forelegs. “Emphasis on moron.”

“You don’t even know what my help is.”

“I know it’s stoopid!”

“You do not!”

“Do too!”

Mangle clapped his hands together. The massive sound silenced them both. He smiled, gritting his teeth almost hard enough to break a tooth. “Come with me, and I can show you I’m not completely crazy.”

“Oh, noo.” Seabreeze settled down on Mangle’s shoulder. “Joost a leetle crazy. That’s all.”

Mangle walked through the Egg, the seat of Beefland politics; the capitol building itself. Windowless hallways and intricately-carved furniture surrounded them on every side. In the deepest part of the building, Mangle brought them to a stop. He fiddled with a ring of keys before unlocking the final door to the innermost room.

“He came to me,” Mangle said, “but the decision to allow his help was mine. I stand by my decision. You can reject it, but I’m gonna go forward with it.”

“I… I trust eyew.” Seabreeze sat and tugged at his tight jumpsuit. “Oopen the door. Let’s hev at thees marvelous idea.”

Mangle pulled the door open. The two of them faced a gigantic chair, one that would dwarf even the beefiest minotaur. There was a creak, a groan, a whine of protest, as the chair swiveled.

Andean Ursagryph gripped the armrests with his sharp talons. “Greetings, gentlecreatures.”

Seabreeze tilted his head. He glanced from the griffon to the minotaur. He stuck his tongue out at Mangle. “Eyew’re an imbecile.”

“No, please, shut the door behind you.” Andean leaned forward. “We have much to discuss, Seabreeze, not the least of which is your alliance with President Mangle behind the scenes.”

Mangle closed and locked the door. “Trust me, Seabreeze. He’s beefy. We need him.”

Seabreeze leveled his eyebrows. He took off and hovered a respectable distance away from the oversized griffon king. “Speak eyewr piece.”

Andean nodded. He clasped his talons and rocked back. “My time in Equestria has taught me many things, and reinforced several preconceived notions. Not the least of which is Celestia’s fallibility.”

“Shocker, shocker,” Seabreeze said.

The griffon king smirked. He tossed a candied strawberry into his beak. “What President Mangle sees, and what I see, is that Celestia does not require a coalition to stand against her, but an alliance to stand ready… in case she fails. That is all I ask, and that is all I intend.”

“Really?” Seabreeze turned up his nose. “Thees, cooming froom the vharlike griffon king?”

Andean let his talons drop to his lap. “There are things more important than glory. There are different sources of honor.”

He looked up at the breezie, his eyes hard. “I have only ever cared for my people, High Pariah Seabreeze. I have only ever wanted what was best for them and my daughters. There is something coming, something far larger than we can comprehend at the moment. Something darker than we dare dream. It haunts my nightmares and foreshadows my every waking moment. Don’t you care for Breezy Bastion? I know you do. It consumes your thoughts. Your family consumes your thoughts.”

He clicked his beak. “And if you’re anything like me, you would do great and terrible things to keep them safe.”

Seabreeze gulped air. “Even take control oof the sun.”

Andean nodded. “Even take control of the sun. If needed.”

Mangle snapped his fingers to get their attention. “But we can’t be ready to raise the sun unless we know how.”

“I had a few ideas about that.” Andean stood up and spread his wings wide. “Have either of your heard of the creature known as Ahuizotl? He has made a few attempts worth investigating.”

***

Empire

The Badlands had a dry heat. Skin turned to leather. Water faded into the dust. Rocks cracked after centuries of being battered with harsh wind. The sun blazed in the sky and chased the lingering shade to the far reached of the world.

Ahuizotl hated it. He much preferred the humidity of the jungle. The comfort of a ready supply of water. The blanket of mist in the morning. The dew collecting on leaves. The green.

He moved with his trademark natural grace over rocks and through crags, seeking any sign of life in the harsh desert. Time was short, he knew. He had to lay the foundations before he was overtaken. There was a secret to be shared and a power to be gained.

He reached the top of a plateau and looked over the valley. There, in the near distance, there lay a series of columns. They tapered to a point near the top, and were dotted with holes. He smiled; he had found them.

His soft paws pattered across the sandstone. The spires loomed overhead like dilapidated mountains. The holes were not entrances, as he had suspected, but merely air holes that led deep into the hives.

Ahuizotl grinned as he came upon a large, crumbling tunnel that led downward. He saw no sentinels, no guardians, no defenders standing ready. He was about to step inside when he chanced a glance upward.

Queen Chrysalis gaped at him, her hollow eye sockets hissing in the wind.

Ahuizotl shuffled a step back and brought the entire scene into view. The changeling queen lay sprawled on the rocks, a long stake thrust through her torso, nailing her to the ground. Her carcass had been polished to a sheen by sandstorms, and her insides had been dried out with the scorching heat. There was nothing left but a hollow shell of the once-proud ruler.

Ahuizotl grimaced. “Perhaps negotiations will not go as smoothly as I suspected.”

He stepped into the cave. The stone turned cool against his footpads. The air turned stale and stifling, with the smell of strange bodies assailing his nostrils. Wind blew into his face at steady intervals, as if he was walking down the throat of an enormous dragon.

The floor fell out from under him.

A slide took him deep into the earth. He grasped at the walls with mighty claws, but he could get no footholds through the thick slime coating. He moved faster and faster as he approached whatever destination the changelings had in store for him.

He bumped his head on an outcropping and crumpled to a halt. He rose swiftly, reaching over his shoulder to grasp the hilt of a curved sword. He snarled and wiped the ooze away from his blue coat.

“You’re going to want to stay still, traveler.”

He froze, obeying the words of the unfamiliar voice. He looked around and found himself the target of several poison-tipped spears, all manned by changeling drones. He released his hilt. “To whom to I have the pleasure of speaking to?”

Hooves clapped. “Lights!”

Bioluminescent fungus growing on the walls and ceiling glowed. Blue light flooded the room, revealing a small army of changelings standing between him and a throne. A queen sat upon the chair, her posture anything but regal. Her legs hung over the armrests, while her head lolled against a pillow.

Her carapace was black, the same as all changelings’. The difference lay in her eyes and mane, both of which were a dirty, unkempt pink. She waved her wings lazily. Her voice was distorted by a buzz in her throat. “You speak to Queen Chrysalis the Second, daughter of Queen Chrysalis the Tyrant. The most important question to me is: Who are you?”

Ahuizotl drew himself up. He flicked a glob of slime at the spear bearers. “I am Ahuizotl, Dweller of the Jungle and future God of the Day.”

Chrysalis II lifted her head, her eyelids drooping low on her brow. A smile trailed across her lips. A low giggle escaped her throat.

Ahuizotl set his jaw as she exploded into shrieking laughter.

“What, like—” Chrysalis II sputtered. “Like in the Daring Do books? That Owie—owie… whatever you are?”

A low murmur rolled across the assembled changelings, split between discussing why he was there, and just laughing at him.

Ahuizotl bared his teeth and growled. “I’m surprised you know of the books.”

“We do read, Mister Kittypaws.” Chrysalis II snorted. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am.” He rubbed a blob of slime with the consistency of snot between the fingers on his tail. “I am real. I am powerful. I am Ahuizotl!”

The entire changeling congregation broke out into deep belly-laughs.

Ahuizotl pointed at the changeling queen. “Your mother knew of me! She knew that the jungle was my domain! Why else do you think you limped to the Badlands rather than your ancestral home?”

Chrysalis II stopped laughing. She sat up and leaned heavily on the armrests. “Because my mother—” She spat the word. “—was an idiot and a monster. A beast who doomed our entire race with a failed attempt to take control from Celestia.”

Ahuizotl narrowed one eye at a changeling beside him. The bug-like creature bared its fangs at him. He snarled at it. He turned back to the queen and raised a hand. “I am beginning to realize why I found the first Chrysalis in her current state.”

“I slew her,” Chrysalis II said. “It was the only way to stop her suicidal plans.”

She reached out to cup the chin of a changeling beside her throne. The drone closed its eyes and all but purred. “I realize something my mother never did. These creatures are my brothers and sisters. They are family. It is my responsibility to see them to safety.”

She stalked down the steps to her throne, her cloven hooves making crunching sounds on dried mucus. “So remember that, Enemy of Daring Do, while you tell me exactly why you came to us.”

Ahuizotl sat down and held his hands out, showing them to be empty. “Perhaps this talk would be expedited—”

“Expawhat—?” Chrysalis II tilted her head.

Ahuizotl rolled his eyes. “Wouldn’t it be better if we talked without holding weapons at each other’s throats?”

“You first.” Chrysalis II nodded to her soldiers. “Let him drop them.”

Ahuizotl drew his swords and tossed them to the side. He turned slowly, letting her see that he was completely unarmed. “Satisfied?”

She pouted. “Bring him a chair!”

A large, black chair was dragged into the room and placed before the throne. Ahuizotl took a seat while Chrysalis II climbed to her place at the head of the room.

“I have a proposition to make,” Ahuizotl said. “Your people have been in hiding all these years, correct?”

Chrysalis II frowned. “Since the dawn of time.”

“But especially since your mother’s failed attack.”

She winced. “Ancient history.”

“Is it?” Ahuizotl waved his hands around the room. “Look at your people. Do they look prosperous and happy? Do they look as though they live life to the fullest? You are dying out, my queen, and you must do something fast.”

“I am.” Chrysalis II smiled at the changeling assembly before turning a sour glare at Ahuizotl. “I am preparing a group of ambassadors to visit Equestria to directly request a truce.”

“Anti-changeling sentiment is strong in Equestria,” Ahuizotl said. “How far from the border do you think you’ll get before you are slain by a hail of arrows?”

Chrysalis II’s throat bobbed. Her wings flitted behind her back. “Princess Celestia is a reasonable ruler—”

“But she is hardly in charge now.” Ahuizotl clasped his hands together. “She is still weak from the attack. Unwell and unfit. The princesses Luna and… and Mi Amore Cadenza are leading the country while she rests.”

Ahuizotl smiled as Chrysalis II shrunk back. “Aha. So you know the name. The very mare who your mother insulted most grievously during the Siege of Canterlot, ten years ago.”

“Sh-she would understand,” Chrysalis II said, turning her head away. “She understands love.”

“Yes, such as the love she feels for her husband.”

Chrysalis II shut her eyes. A whine escaped her closed mouth.

The changelings with spears crept closer. Ahuzotl didn’t bother to concern himself with them. “Your timing could not be worse, my queen. Do you really think they are ready to forgive such evils as your mother committed? No. Going to them would result in disaster.”

The crowd whispered all around him. Worried faces looked to their queen, while others glared at Ahuizotl with unconcealed hatred.

“Y-you are trying to manipulate me,” Chrysalis II said, licking her lips. “I can taste it in the air.”

“Perhaps.” Ahuizotl shook a finger. “But taste again. Do I not believe the words I speak?”

“You do.” She flashed her fangs at him. “But I remain unconvinced.”

Ahuizotl nodded in understanding. “The road you suggest may work, in the long run. Your people could regain your dignity. Your people could regain their strength. They could be able to show their faces in public once more.”

He stood up and flicked his tail. “Or they could be destroyed. Far more suddenly and finally than your mother could have ever accomplished.”

“You leave Queen Chrysalis alone!” a changeling shouted.

“Yeah, she’d never hurt us!”

“Go home to your stupid jungle, Fuzzylips!”

“Hack up a hairball!”

Ahuizotl roared from deep within his chest. The sound rattled the stones and echoed off the walls. The changelings around him fled, giving him a wide berth.

He smiled. “Now that I have your attention, I have another possible path.”

Chrysalis II shook her head. “If you intend for us to go along with whatever mad scheme you have to fight… Daring Do… I promise I will have no part in it!”

“I have but one intention for myself,” Ahuizotl said, placing a hand on his chest. His tail climbed up, its index finger pointing at the ceiling. “To take control of the sun.”

He smiled at the queen. “But that is not the be-all, end-all. There are prizes for all that assist me in this venture. For you, there is the chance to return the changelings to their former glory.”

Chrysalis II snapped at him. “We never had glory!”

“But you did.” Ahuizotl rubbed his chin. “Or did your mother also neglect to teach you the stories of your history? The mighty changeling empire, the heroes of old, the deeds of mighty creatures. Even now, your ruins decorate the jungles in the north.”

Chrysalis II sighed. He eyes flashed between her subjects and the creature before her. “That is no longer ours. That is no longer what we are, if it ever was. We are creatures hiding in the dark, hoping no one squishes us.”

“Ah, but that is the one thing your mother got right. You are capable of so much more.” Ahuizotl sat in the chair, his smile wide. “And I have the means to give you that power.”

“There is nothing you can—”

“I have found the Spade of Hearts.”

Chrysalis II flared her wings. Her subjects’ voices reached an uproar as objections, happiness, anger, surprise, and fear rolled across them.

“Or,” Ahuizotl said, “at the least, I know where it is.”

The queen shook, her voice vibrating along with her. “You l-lie.”

“Now you know that isn’t true.” Ahuizotl propped his chin on a fist. “I know the location to the secret of the ancient changelings’ power; the dagger used to tear the very magic from ponies. One this is over, and I control the sun, I shall give it to you.”

A predatory grin snaked across his mouth. “Only if you assist me, of course.”

“No, queen!”

“Do it! You have to do it!”

“We need it! It’s our only chance!”

“We can’t become monsters again!”

“Enough!” Chrysalis II stomped her throne. “Shut up, all of you!”

She glared at Ahuizotl. “That dagger is the very symbol of why ponies distrust and hate us. It is the worst of slavery and murder! I shall not allow its use in my kingdom, and I shall not even think about helping anyone who wants it!”

Ahuizotl made one last attempt. “Your hive will—”

“The dagger is something my mother would have used!” Chrysalis II screamed. “I am not my mother!”

He withdrew his outstretched hand. He sent the surrounding changelings a dim glower. “Very well. The offer stands—for any or all of you!—until the day the sun warms my back with its power.”

Chrysalis II turned up her nose. “Get him out of my hive.”

The changeling spear bearers angled their poisoned tips towards the jungle lord. Ahuizotl tipped his head. “Lead me to the exit, and I shall bother you no longer. I had one question, though—”

Chrysalis II scrunched her muzzle.

“If you hate your mother so much,” Ahuizotl said, “why do you share her name?”

Chrysalis II blinked. She raised an eyebrow as a nearby changeling, then looked back at Ahuizotl. “B-because it’s my name. It’s the only thing that a never changes for a changeling. To give it up would be to say I wasn’t a changeling anymore.”

Ahuizotl picked his swords up and slid them into their sheaths. “Very well, Chrysalis.” He hissed her name. “You’ll come to me. When your world crumbles around you, and your hives run out of food, you will come to me.”

“I doubt it, tuna-breath.” Chrysalis II stuck her tongue out. “Say hello to Daring Do and your other imaginary friends.”

Ahuizotl grinned as he was led through the dark, grimy corridors. The seeds had been planted; who knew what sort of fruit would spring up?

***

Battle

“What were you thinking?”

Merry Mare followed the Maid through the bowels of the mountain. She felt her blood boil over with every word she spoke. “You could have gotten yourself killed! You could have screwed up everything! What possessed you to—?”

“Dulcimer needed to be put down!” The Maid whirled on her. Her silvery braid flowed over one shoulder. “You saw it! You saw what he planned to do! He was going to poison the timeline!”

She sneered and turned into a side room. A simple bed lay in the middle, beside a vanity with makeup and hygienic utensils. The Maid set about beautifying her youthful face. “I don’t understand why the Master was going to let him do it. I saw a problem and used the tools I had with me. When it didn’t work out, I improvised.”

Merry sat on the edge of the bed, working hard on her breathing exercises. “You revealed us to them. They know we’re sirens.”

“But that’s all they know.” The Maid squirted toothpaste onto a brush. “They don’t know who we are, or where we live, or how many of us there are—”

“Three.” Merry rubbed her spectacles with the edge of her cloak. “Celestia will know there’s always three.”

The Maid lowered her ears. She touched the blue sigil around her neck. “I’m more curious about why the Master revealed himself to Celestia. I’m curious about why he wanted to let Dulcimer screw up history. I’m curious—” She sent Merry a withering glare. “—about why we’re still following him after the debacle with summoning Platinum.”

“Because he’s still the best chance we have.” Merry Mare set her spectacles on her snout. “If the Master wins, the people get their freedom, other countries get their power, we become rulers…”

“You get your son?” The Maid shoved the toothbrush into her mouth. She glowered at anything she could lay her eyes on, speaking around the brush. “Why do you—ahem—why do you still think he can do it?”

“Do not forget who gave us this power,” Merry said. “He is a strong and ancient individual, just imprisoned.”

“Maybe I don’t want to free the creep.” The Maid spat into a tin. “Maybe I want to take the sigils and run.”

“Well, of course.” Merry laid her hoof on the Maid’s shoulder. “If the Master is unable to deliver on his promises, we’ll just have to take matters into our own hooves.”

She leaned close to the Maid’s ear, muttering with whispered breaths. “But if I’m going to commit the abomination of forcefully raising the dead, I’d rather do it with the entire Unseelie Court at my back.”

The Maid peered over her glasses. She patted blush onto her cheeks. “You’re playing him.”

“I’m going along with him,” Merry said. “For the moment.”

“Then maybe I’ll go along with you.” The Maid grinned. “For the moment. Keep me posted.”

“Don’t worry so much.” Merry stood up and cracked her back. “The Crone will study Starswirl’s mirror, we’ll regroup our forces, and strike where Equestria least expects it. We all have our parts to play.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Speaking of which, how is yours going?”

The Maid sighed. “After Dulcimer kicked the bucket, all his finances went back to Blueblood. We have no way of getting at it.”

Merry whistled through her teeth. “Then maybe it’s time to start funding the troops from our own coffers. Quietly.”

“I hate to say it out loud.” The Maid rinsed her mouth out and spat again. The tin clanged joyfully. “But the restaurant business isn’t really lucrative enough to fund both its own operations and our little army.”

She leaned back to look at Merry. “It might be time to enact Operation: Inheritance.”

Merry Mare searched the Maid’s face for any trace of regret. She found none. An uneasy feeling brewed in the pit of her stomach. “Not yet. We don’t need to take that sort of measure until things become critical. Keep it on the back burner, ready to use.”

The maid shrugged and turned back. “Your call, sister.”

The Crone hobbled into the room, brushing her curly gray mane haphazardly. “We’re on in ten minutes, guys. The Master expects us to give the troops a little encouragement.”

The Maid laughed. “That’s no surprise, after what we’ve just gone through. What song are we singing?”

Merry smirked. She motioned the Crone closer. “How about an oldie, but a goodie? One we’ve sung before, but…” She let teeth show between her lips. “Catered to the situation?”

The Crone scratched her neck. “Mm. I think I can hook you up with that.”

***

The three of them stood in the midst of the Grove of Golden Apples. Merry’s sigil shone bright yellow, while the Maid’s shimmered a soft blue. The Crone had no sigil, but she hummed right alongside them.

“Ahh-ah-ah, ahh-ah. Ahh-ah-ah, ahh-ah. ”

Nearly three-hundred ponies gathered around, some having traveled all the way from Canterlot. The warriors who had not participated in the battle were gathered beside dancing Unseelie Fae, their eyes and ears eager for the siren’s song.

“Ahh-ah-ah, ahh-ah. Ahh-ah-ah, ahh-ah. ”

The Maid stepped forward, her teeth sparkling in the torchlight.

“We know that life can be so bitter
We know the world can be so cruel
But there’s a time of coming splendor
If you can use this simple tool

“Why just live with hurt and pain
When you were born a fighter?
Here’s a chance for wealth and fame
Become the star that’s rising higher”

Merry felt power surge through her sigil. It clawed through her fairy strings and to her throat. Her words sprang out as enchantments, lending their invigorating power to the people.

“You and me, me and you
We’ll rule this kingdom forever
With us you can do
Greater deeds than ever

“If you follow
Every order that we utter
Then we can tear
Their Equestria asunder”

The Maid took the lead again, her young voice full of power and authority.

“The day’s coming, and you’ll know it
There’s a final coming test
The war is waging all around
But you can show them you’re the best”

The Crone stepped into the light, and all three lent their voices. The Crone had no sigil, so Merry and the Maid sang all the louder to compensate.

“Battle!
We’re drawing near it
Let’s have a battle
Show who’s number one!

“Our sabers rattle!
Oh, can you hear it?
Let’s have a battle!
Battle!
Battle!
Battle for the sun!”

The hoards joined in, from the simplest earth pony to the darkest fae. They shouted, they screamed, they raved, they cackled. It was mayhem and melee. Each cry became more grotesque and ghastly, warped by the magic of the sirens’ song.

Merry plucked a golden apple from the branches overhead. She bit deep into it and let its strength join that of her sigil. For the first time in a long time, she felt assured.

“Though the plan reached a snag
We can come back fighting harder
Pushing through the lag
And coming out stronger

“’Cause with us three
We can cut through the delusion
We can erase
All your sorrow and confusion”

She glanced behind her to the largest tree in the grove. The Master looked on, his greedy green eyes shining bright in the mirror. She sent him a smile she didn’t truly feel. His lies weighed too heavily for her liking.

Whether he could help or not, she was getting her son back. She was taking control of Equestria. She would change things for the better. She would.

She knew she would.

“Battle!
We’re drawing near it
Let’s have a battle
Show who’s number one!

“Our sabers rattle!
Oh, can you hear it?
Let’s have a battle!
Battle!
Battle!
Battle for the sun!”

Author's Note

I hope you've enjoyed DayBreak, my longest, darkest, and probably best novel. So far. The story started as a simple idea with complex consequences: A mare tries to assassinate Celestia and fails, only to find her entire worldview tossed on its head. This concept spiraled out of control until it became this huge tale, webbed with intrigue, politics, action, and romance.

I see this as the end of Part One of The Heart's Promise continuity. It isn't an end to the arc, so much as it sets up the world the ponies live in. What's left of it, in any case!

Twilight and Spike's story continues in Lightning Struck Home and In the Absence of Sunset Shimmer

Andean Ursagryph's story continues in An Equestrian Griffon.

The Unseelie Court return in the now-published fic, If You Weren't Afraid, starring Discord.

The Knights of Harmony will return...

Ponyville

A crystal radio hissed with static in the darkness. A hoof reached out to adjust the frequency, as much as was possible on the homemade device. A voice made itself heard from amidst the white noise.

“Prin—una had this—at the pre—onfrence this morning,” a pony with a good radio voice and a better radio face said.

It switched to the unmistakable, bellowing voice of the younger High Princess. “It is with a heavy heart that I l—those ponies to rest. However, their sacrif—as not in vain. I am most rel—ed to report that my sister, Princess C—ia, yet lives.”

The scar itched on her cheek. The mare in the dark forced herself not to scratch it, because that would only cause a great amount of pain. She knew the ways of old wounds. She knew the power of poison. She feared poison.

Poison went straight for the heart and shut it down.

“Her injuries were heav—ut she heals well,” Luna continued. “Please join me in praying that her r—ery is swifter still. She bids you all a warm gr—ting, and is eager to ret—o her duties in short order.”

It was the third time they’d played that clip in the same day. Heavy, yet cheerful. Optimistic. Hopeful.

Either deluded or distorted.

Celestia, the scarred mare knew, was the princess with an outward appearance of happiness and a core of unmovable rock. Luna was the princess with an outward appearance of solemnity and an inner core of certain… childlike qualities.

Luna did not do well playing the part of her older sister.

The mare fiddled with the radio, eliciting only a high-pitched whine. She switched frequencies until she found a station playing slow, soft melodies through the static. A voice like silver bells joined in. A modern opera.

It wasn’t quite the same.

The mare lifted a silver thermos and unscrewed the cap. She used it to measure out a couple millimeters of golden liquid, which she threw down her gullet with a grunt. Ambrosia burned on its way down. The healing properties of the breezie-brewed beverage were astonishing. Unbelievable. Miraculous.

Deadly.

She’d seen the effects of an overdose of ambrosia. She’d seen what happens when a pony ingests too much of a medicine that promotes rapid cellular growth. She’d seen the blood clots, the burst vessels, the fatal strokes.

She’s seen a substance meant to heal become a poison.

She checked beneath the bandages around her chest and wings. The broken bones had set. The burns had been eaten away by the regenerative properties of ambrosia.

Still that accursed scar itched.

It was much the same for Equestria. What was meant to be a healing salve had become a poison, one with the name of Princess. A poison that was respected, honored, loved.

She would fight poison with poison. She would go straight for the heart and, like any good poison, stop it cold.

She shut her eyes, lay down on a ratty cot, and listened to the song.

***

Care Carrot disembarked the train amid a cloud of steam. For a moment, she was back in Manehattan, a mare in a crowd. Awash in a sea of color. Sheltered by a curtain of noisy greetings and heartfelt goodbyes.

Then the noise ended. The crowds dispersed. She was alone. In Ponyville, the bustle only lasted as long as there was something to bustle about.

Care buttoned her red plaid coat up to her neck and picked up her luggage. It rolled along beside her, its handle secure in her orange magic glow. The train station was close by the downtown market, fittingly enough, ready to catch new arrivals’ eyes with shiny knickknacks and fresh food. An apple stand here, a basket weaver there, a bevy of gold bits and silver pieces changing hooves…

And at the end of one particular row, a familiar face. Care pushed through the fairly sparse crowd, leaves crunching under her hooves. The stall’s sign held the picture of three crisp, crunchy carrots, bright orange and lush green. It was copied off of the curly orange-maned proprietor’s cutie mark. Care put a smile on her face and laid her forelegs on the stall’s table. “Hi, Golden Harvest.”

“Welcome to the harvest,” the mare said. “I was just about to close up, but there’s always time for one more customer. What can I get you?”

“I might have to grab some carrots another time.” Care chuckled as she presented her profile to Golden Harvest. “I just wanted to say ‘hay’ to my favorite cousin.”

Golden squinted at the mark that was very much like hers, except that Care’s greens were connected. “Carrot… Care? Is that you? I haven’t seen you since the reunion!”

“The one and only,” Care said. “How’s the Ponyville branch of the Carrot clan, Goldie?”

“We’re absolutely fine!” Golden Harvest swung her hoof. “Good bunch this year. We’ve got a bundle of carrots—and various other vegetables, if you don’t mind me saying—ready to ship. Nowadays I mostly run the stall for fun.”

Silence descended between the two once Golden Harvest finished. She cleared her throat. “So, how are things for the Manhattan Carrots? Your farm was east of the city, right?”

Care pursed her lips. “East of the city is the ocean, actually. We’re a little north.”

“Oh.” Golden scratched the back of her neck. “So how are things… up north?”

“Good?” Carrot scrunched her nose. “I think. I’ve been doing a lot of guard work. Haven’t been home much.”

“Oh.” Golden Harvest’s eyes lit up as she reached for the next conversation topic. “What do you guards think about the whole Celestia assassination thing?”

Care cringed. “I was there.”

“Oh, wow,” Golden said. “What happened? Is the princess alright? I mean, everybody’s heard Princess Luna on the radio, but—”

“I’m really not allowed to talk about it much.” Care shuffled her hooves. “But Celestia’s gonna be just fine. I know she is.”

“Oh.” Golden Harvest ducked beneath her stand and pulled out a couple carrots. “Hay, here’s a little something on me. Cousin to cousin. I gotta close up shop before it gets late.”

Care leaned over the stand and watched Golden gather up her baskets. “Need any help?”

“Nah, nah. I’ve got it.” Golden smiled and waved. “Hay, it was really neat seeing you. Just goes to show that when you’re part of one of the largest earth pony families”—her eyes jumped to Care’s horn, then back down to her baskets—“one of the largest families in Equestria, you’re never really alone.”

Care gave a short sigh through her nose. She lifted the carrots into her luggage. “Yeah. Never alone. Good stuff.”

“You have a good stay in Ponyville, okay?” Golden Harvest called over her shoulder. “Maybe we can run into each other again.”

Care rolled her eyes when Golden wasn’t looking. “Yup. Sounds like a plan. Good luck with the whole ‘carrots’ thing.”

“See yah!”

Care Carrot moved on, her head hanging low. The back of her plaid coat pulled on her tight ponytail, drawing forth a low moan of frustration. She journeyed down another isle, one that led closer to Ponyville’s monolithic crystal castle. After a few paces, she let her mane fall loose.

A passing glassworker’s stand gave her opportunity to glance in a mirror. She arranged her mane so that it flowed over her shoulders. She moved it to one side. She pulled it all back and tucked it under her jacket. She sat down, scowled, and perused the other baubles on display.

“S-see something you like?” a white stallion said. He kept his hooves close together as he walked, as though he was afraid to do anything besides just inch forward. His shoulders were hunched and his head was low. He gave her an almost-smile. “Th-though I’d g-guess not.”

Care gave his shop another glance. Her eyes landed on her ruffled reflection. “Not especially. It’s probably time for a change.”

His pink eyes squinted. He shivered as a chilled wind blew through the market. “Th-that’s been g-going around. Lots of p-ponies want a ch-change, but d-don’t always think ahead of th-the change.”

Care snorted. “I was just talking about a mane cut.”

“Of c-course. Of course y-you were.” He turned to go into his little tent. He started to sort the mirrors and glasswork within. “You can k-keep l—keep looking right until I’m packed to go, j-just in case you find something w-worth keeping. I’ve got to c-catch the five-o’-five to Canterlot.”

Care leaned over to look at him as he worked. His cutie mark was a six-slice color wheel. “You live there or are you just visiting?”

“I t-travel.” He wrapped some bowls in paper and laid them in a box. “Sometimes I s-stay, but m-mostly I travel.”

He held a bleach-white hoof out to her. “Blankety Blank, at y-your service.”

“Nice to meet you,” Care said with a hoof bump. “Care Carrot, at yours.”

He shuffled to the four corners of his tent and pulled up stakes. He saved the mirror in front of her for last, which he eased onto the top of the pile of glasswork. “M-maybe since we’re both travelers, we’ll s-see each other ag-again. Could I c-convince you t-to buy something?”

“Not today, sorry.” Care shrugged. “I’m a little light on cash.”

“Another t-time, then.” He lifted the tent bundle onto his back and rolled his case of glass behind him. “Take c-care, Captain.”

“You too, Blank.” Care tugged at a lock of her mane. Her eyes opened wide as she spun around. “‘Captain?’ I never told him—”

He had vanished. Care took a mental snap-shot of every pony present; none of the features matched even a little. Many ponies carried tent bundles as they closed down shop. Dozens of luggage cases rolled along beside and behind ponies, including her own. Leaves swirled as the wind picked up.

“Okay, nothing odd about that conversation.” She said with a leery smile. “Nothing odd at all.”

***

“Spike!” Twilight’s voice echoed off the crystalline walls. “I need a letter sent!”

She sat on her throne, in her castle. An incredibly bright, eye-searing castle, but it was home. Her friends’ thrones stood like sentinels, joined together in an open circle of friendship. The crystal seat should have been cold in the autumn weather, but it was heated from within by what she supposed were the “fires of friendship” spoken of in the Hearth’s Warming carol.

A cloud of pens surrounded the throne, joined by a cloud of scrolls. Each pen was writing a different report under Twilight Sparkle’s guidance. Legibility was somewhere between first year grade-schoolers and hoof painting. Further practice was obviously required, in the princess’ opinion. “Spike! Hello? Can you hear me?”

The noise of claws on crystal was joined by the clomp of hooves as Spike approached the throne. He was flanked by Captain Care Carrot. He pulled a scroll out of the sack he always held at his side and pulled a feather pen from behind his ear. “Sorry I’m late. Care and I got lost somewhere around the second foyer.”

Twilight blinked. “We only have one foyer.”

“Whatever that other big room is called, then.” He tapped the pen against the paper. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Twilight smiled at Care. “Just a second, please.”

Care nodded and stood at strict attention, which was distinctly offset by her flannel jacket and her loose, turquoise mane.

“Dear Mom,” Twilight Sparkle said, “I really need your help. No, it’s not about money and it’s not boy troubles. You can stop asking me about those.”

Spike coughed into his fist.

“Shut up, Spike. Instead, I need to ask you a question of great importance. Again. Where might I find the author of the Daring Do books? This might mean the life and death of a pony, not to mention the fate of the kingdom. Your help is appreciated. Ex oh, ex oh. With love, Twilight.”

Spike rolled the letter up and burned it. It transformed into a plume of smoke that trailed out the window and towards Canterlot.

Twilight crossed her forelegs. “So, Care, I don’t suppose you have a place to stay here in town?”

Care grimaced. “No, your Highness, I do not.”

“Don’t worry about it. We’ve got a guest room ready for you.” Twilight pulled a scroll up to her face, tried to read her own penmanship, and soon grew cross-eyed. “As a matter of fact, we’ve got tons of guest rooms. Dozens. Gazillions. We’ve got more rooms than I’ll ever know what to do with.”

Care lifted her head to view the high-vaulted ceiling. “Princess Celestia managed,” she said with a grin.

Twilight laughed. “Good. So it’ll only take me a thousand years to get used to this place. Excellent.”

Spike burped a plume of green smoke. Twilight caught the letter that materialized. “Thank you, Spike,” she said. She slit the letter open with a spell and read aloud. “‘Dear Best Princess, let it not be said that Twilight Velvet stood in the way of the fate of Equestria. You can actually find that silly author skulking around the Everfree Forest right about now, searching out some vaguely-mystical butter knife. She’ll be in close proximity to the Palace of the Royal Pony Sisters. Give the princesses my best and smack Yearling around for me. With love, Best Mom.’”

Twilight squinted at the bottom of the page. “‘P.S. Spike, make sure Twilight behaves. Love you, too.’”

Spike polished his claws on his chest scales. “Best mom, indeed.”

Care’s brow furrowed. “So we’re headed to the Everfree?”

“I’m headed to the Everfree,” Twilight Sparkle said. “You’re getting settled in. Spike will—”

Care took a step forward. “Hay, I joined up because I wanted to help—”

“You are going to help.” Twilight touched her wingtip to Care’s shoulder. “I’m not going after the assassin right now. Nopony is. I’m just going to grab some information.”

Twilight tilted her horn at Spike. “Why don’t you show her some of the landmarks around town? Help her get acclimated. I’ll be back by evening.”

Spike flexed his arms. “You really should take me with you when you go someplace dangerous. I can help now, you know.”

“I’m not saying you can’t Spike,” Twilight said. “I’m just saying that, like Care, now isn’t the time for those skills. Don’t discount your gentlepony skills.”

Spike shrugged. “I don’t. Be safe.”

“Always.” Twilight nodded at Care before flying off. She exited through a high window, which closed shut after her.

Care moaned deep in her throat. “I’m feeling a little second-rate right now.”

“Welcome to the life of a sidekick.” Spike motioned towards the door. “Shall we?”

***

As the bird flies, it was a quick trip to the Palace of the Royal Pony Sisters. The ruins were aged, decrepit, and cold. There was even less of a castle, nearly a decade later, than there was during Nightmare Moon’s return. Weather, magic, and various other phenomena had occurred, and none of it had done the stonework any favors.

But the Everfree Forest was beautiful. In autumn, it was an explosion of reds and oranges and yellows. Swirling in the wind, drifting to the ground, glowing in the light. It was almost enough to forget what an aberration the untamed land was.

Twilight landed in what was once a recognizable courtyard, and was now little more than a stone floor surrounded by rubble. Digging through that rubble were several ponies, donkeys, and at least one camel. They chanted a steady beat as they worked.

“There’s a treasure buried here
That’s not been seen for long years
We dig for knowledge and for gain
We pray for grants to pay our way

“Chalice used by ancient kings
To catch the blood of pigs with wings
Dream catcher for duchesses’ bed
Or flyswatter for the servant’s head

“There’s a goal that must be found
The one time history comes around
Dynamite blows the blockage up
And bulldozes the china cup”

A griffon, who was drawing a scale map on a spare scroll, looked up at the sound of her wings. He bowed. “Princess Twilight.”

“Hay, Martial. Is Daring around?”

“She’s further into the ruins.” He pointed a talon. “You’re in luck, she’s in a good mood today.”

Twilight let her eyes roll back. “We’ll see how long that lasts. I’m not exactly bringing happy news.”

Martial Paw clicked his beak. “Is it about the Celestia thing?”

“Yeah.” Twilight patted the waterproof saddlebags at her sides. “I’m hoping she can help out.”

Martial Paw went back to drawing his map. “More power to you.”

Twilight crawled over crumbling stone. The core building of the castle was more easily recognizable as such, though only barely. She was thankful again for the foresight to bring the Palace’s library to her own castle. Wet drips echoed in dark crevasses, and the rattle of falling rocks rumbled in the distance.

Twilight turned a corner and entered the old throne room. The walls were bare where restored tapestries had been moved to museums. Scuff marks dug into the floor where heavy furniture had been moved. At the far end of the room, between the thrones, stood a mustard-yellow pegasus mare.

She pulled with all her might against rope attached to a stone slab. The massive thing refused to budge. She slumped to her rump, caught her breath, and started over.

“Need a little help?” Twilight said.

“Don’t need no help!” the pegasus snapped. “I’ve lifted rocks heavier than this thing!”

Twilight brought herself next to the stone, pressed her forelegs and chest against it, and gave it a mighty shove. It slid aside with little resistance. Behind the blockage lay a long, narrow hallway, leading down.

“Okay,” the pegasus said, brushing her grayscale mane out of her eyes. “Okay, you’ve earned your keep, whoever you are.” She lifted her face, then bowed down low. “Oh, uh, your Highness.”

“Get off the floor, you’re embarrassing yourself.” Twilight giggled. “Miss Yearling.”

Daring Do brushed her green shirt off and plopped her pith helmet on her head. “Don’t use my work name, I’m in the field.”

“Then don’t use my work name,” Twilight said. “So, I hear you’re searching for a mystical butter knife.”

“You’ve been talking with your mom.” Daring Do brushed past Twilight and headed down the uncovered hallway. “Twilight’s the best editor I’ve ever had, but darned if she isn’t a pain sometimes.”

Twilight followed close behind her, lighting her horn to cast a purple glow over the two of them. Daring Do kept her voice low. “It’s not a butter knife,” she said. “It was a blade used in sacrifice. Pony sacrifice. The princesses hid it away millennia ago to keep it out of the wrong hands.” Daring raised an eyebrow. “Like Ahuizotl’s.”

“Creepy.” Twilight ducked a cobweb. “And you think you found it?”

“Not really, just a clue about its whereabouts.” Daring Do shook some mud off her feet. “I’m hoping that if anyone’s found it, they just dropped it in a volcano like sensible folks.”

“Chances of that?”

“Pretty much zero.”

“Ahuh.”

Daring Do pushed her helmet back. “Hay, do me a favor. Keep an eye out for quicksand. Some of the foundations of this palace have basically disintegrated.”

Twilight’s hoof squelched in the mud. “Oh.”

Daring Do squinted. “Oh? What’s ‘oh’?”

“Just that the mud is up to my ankles, now.”

Daring Do tossed her mane. “That’s nothing. To get quicksand, you’ve gotta have a real deep puddle of mire. It ain’t quicksand if you can touch bedrock. Now, there was this one time in Zebrabwe—”

With her next step, Daring Do fell into a pool of muck up to her shoulders. Since she had been following close behind, Twilight fell nearly on top of her.

“Don’t struggle!” Daring said. “Just try to float on top. Almost like wading.”

A few bubbles gurbled up out of the mud. Daring sunk deeper. “Oh yeah,” she said. “Everfree dirt. Malevolent Mud.” She sighed as her mouth went under. “Son of a g—”

Twilight’s horn glowed pure white as she teleported herself out of the quagmire. She gripped the tip of Daring Do’s tail in a telekinetic spell and pulled. The pegasus flew out with a wet splurch.

The two mud-covered mares looked at each other for a long moment. Daring seethed. “I should have seen that coming.”

When Twilight didn’t say anything, Daring extended a wing. “Come on, let’s get back to camp. We’ll need a full team to get through this.” She licked the corner of her mouth and spat out dirt. “Say, why’d you come to the dig anyway?”

Twilight walked behind her as they made a much slower trip back up. “I assume you’ve heard about the attack on Celestia?”

Daring’s wings drooped, but she nodded. “Yeah. Just heard on the radio that’s she’s doing fine.”

Twilight looked away. “You know that she’s not really alright, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I was just hoping—” Daring Do sucked in a steadying breath. “What’s it got to do with me, though?”

“The weapons found on the scene. I think you might know what they are.” Twilight said. She opened her saddlebags’ pocket and drew forth a small blade. “Look, but don’t touch. The edge’s almost impossibly keen.”

Daring Do examined it in Twilight’s light. “Classic pegasus design. It dates to Pegasopolis. The design, not the blades, they’re brand new. I’d have to cross-reference, but these might even be in the style of those used in the Elite Squadron, Commander Hurricane’s personal attack dogs.” Daring Do scratched her chin. “It always ticks me off that they cast Pansy as a private in the plays. He was a centurion at the time. Leader of the Elites. Go figure they completely wuss him out just ’cause he was a nice guy.”

Twilight laid a hoof on Daring’s back. “Anything else you can pick up from the blades?”

“Nothing that I can get without a lab and a pile of reference books.” Daring Do scraped the gunk off of her helmet and set it on her grimy head. “But you give me either or both, and I’ll get you what you need. We’ll catch that assassin, you can bet double or nothing.”

“‘We’ll’ catch her, huh?” Twilight said with a chuckle.

“You heard me.” Daring Do’s eyes glinted in the lavender light. “Nothing hurts the princess and gets away with it. Nothing and nopony.”

Once they were out in the open, Daring Do walked up to the griffon cartographer. “Marty, you’re in charge. I’ll be back soonish. Got a personal thing to take care of. National security, you understand.”

“Yes,” Martial Paw said. He gave Twilight a longsuffering smile. “Personal matters of national security are a regular thing around here.”

Twilight giggled. “I’ll take care of her, promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Martial extended his wing in the classic pegasus salutation. “We’ll be here when you get back, I’m assuming.”

Daring Do waved a hoof. “Dunno. Might take a while. Finish up here and compile the info. I’ll get in touch once this thing’s wrapped up.” She snorted at his lowered eyebrows. “Come on, Marty, this is a cakewalk. This is what you guys were trained for. You don’t need me.”

She flicked her tail in the general direction of the castle. “By the way, there’s a new passage I just uncovered. Don’t go in without being ready for some sticky mud that actually wants to eat you. Get Humphrey to dry it out with his freaky camel powers.”

“I resent that,” the camel said.

“Well, then,” Martial said, “I guess we’ll see you when we see you, Doctor Do.”

Daring flashed him a cocky grin. She gave the same smile to Twilight. Alright, princess. Teleport us outta here.”

Twilight stretched her muddy wings. “I figured we could just fly. I know Ponyville and Canterlot like the spirals in my horn, but it still takes me a few minutes to calculate a jump between them. I don’t even wanna think about how long it’d take to bring us out of the ever-changing, always-malicious Everfree.”

Daring Do’s ears flicked back. She marched away from the princess and towards Ponyville. “Okay then. We’ll walk.”

Twilight narrowed her eyes. She rushed after Daring Do. “Hay, what about flying?”

“Th-there’s mud on our wings,” Daring Do said. “We’d have to wash them off. Nowhere to do that around here unless you think getting eaten by piranha plants sounds fun.”

Twilight’s horn sparked, flinging most the mud off of both her and Daring’s wings. “Problem solved.”

Daring scowled. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

She spread her wings and took a short leap into the air. Her neck muscles tightened as she held herself aloft with slow, steady flaps. Sweat trickled down her sides.

Twilight circled around her with easy strokes. “Are you alright?”

“Let’s just get going,” Daring snapped. “We gotta hurry if we wanna get back before nightfall.”

They flew off at sluggish pace. Twilight stayed close to Daring Do, just behind and beneath her, as the adventurer fought to stay in the air.

***

Spike gestured with a hand. “There’s the library”—he indicated a restaurant—“the local Hayburger”—he stopped before an officious building—“and City Hall. And now you’ve seen downtown. Congratulations. What do you think?”

Care lightly ground a hoof into the stone road. “It’s nice.”

“Nice.” Spike shrugged. “What? Nothing original? Nothing deeper than ‘nice’?”

“It’s a nice little town you got here, pardner.” Care shrugged. “What more can I say? It is a nice, small, growing city.” She sat on the steps to Ponyville City Hall. “I’ve always preferred bigger cities, like Manehattan and Canterlot.”

Spike propped his hands on his hips. “Well, sure it’s gonna look like a little town next to city-states like those.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Care said. “I just can’t say it actually moves me or anything.”

Spike tapped his lips. “Huh. Different strokes, I guess. So what do you wanna do now? We could grab a bite at Hayburger before we get you settled at the castle.”

“Now, ain’t no friend of mine gonna eat that trash while ah’m in earshot!”

Care turned at the new voice. She stood and bowed in one swift motion when she found the owner. “Lord Mayor Applejack.”

Applejack untied her cravat as she walked out of City Halls’ front door. She tipped her hat to Spike. “Stand on yer hooves, Care, yah don’t gotta eat dirt fer me.”

Care shook Applejack’s offered hoof. “It’s been a long time, Applejack.”

“Shoot, yeah. Been what, a year?” Applejack grabbed Care’s neck in a sideways hug. “Maybe longer. Seems like forever since the new Sapience thing happened.” She grinned and looked Care right in the eyes. “Good tah hear that Celesta’s still kicking after that attack.”

“Yeah,” Care said with as straight a face as she was able. “She’s doing great.”

“Uh huh.” Applejack let a moment of silence hang in the air. She looked at Spike. “You guys got dinner plans with Twilight?”

“Nope,” Spike said. “She’s away and might not be back tonight.”

“Gotchya.” Applejack motioned for them to follow her. “Then let’s all head down to the acres an’ ah can get yah some good, old-fashioned, homemade vittles. It ain’t right fer yer first taste of Ponyville tah be”—she made a sour face—“Hayburger.”

Care shook her head. “I couldn’t impose—”

“An’ you wouldn’t.” Applejack trotted across the street. “C’mon, Spike, let’s show Care what bein’ an Apple’s all about.”

Spike bared his teeth in a glee-filled grin and skittered off.

“But…” Care hurried after the retreating pony and dragon. “But I’m a Carrot!”

“Ah won’t hold that against yah, none.” Applejack snickered. “Think of it as a’ honorary membership, like Spike here.” She patted his tail. “Not a drop of Apple in his blood, unless yah count the gallons of cider he guzzles every season.”

“Somebody has to keep up appearances when Rainbow Dash is outta town,” he muttered.

It was a quarter of an hour before they crested one last hill on the dirt road to Sweet Apple Acres. There was a red barn, freshly painted, in which a few cows were wrapping up their day’s work. The farmhouse was lit from the ground floor windows as the sun disappeared over the horizon. Apple trees stood with bare branches arching over the road. A few pumpkins had been placed here and there as artistic merit warranted.

Apple Bloom bent over a sawhorse, cutting a length of two-by-four to size. Her mane was wrapped in a tight, red bun, and her vest held a wide variety of tools. The beginnings of a wagon stood a few meters away. She turned her head to greet her sister, but froze, her eyes wide.

“Gol’ darn, AJ! Ah didn’t know yah was invitin’ company over.” She frowned to cover up her pink blush. “Ah didn’ even get a chance tah gussie up.”

Applejack smirked. “Is Big Mac cookin’ the soup?”

Apple Bloom tilted her head. “Yeah?”

“Then yah got plenty of time.” She jerked her head. “Come here, though. Gotta introduce yah.”

She laid a hoof on Care’s back. “This here’s Care of the Royal Guard. Personal guard to Princess Celestia herself, if yah can believe it. This here’s mah lil’ sister Apple Bloom.”

Care looked up at the young mare, who had seemed to inherit whatever family gene gave Big McIntosh his size, as she was nearly as tall as him. “Pleased to meet you.”

Apple Bloom’s tools clinked as she curtsied. “Pleasure to make yer acquaintance, ma’am.” She booped Spike on the nose. “Finally gettin’ some real good eats, huh?”

He crossed his arms. “Hay, I can cook pretty well, if I do say so myself.”

“Yeah, ah still see yah droolin’ every time yah come by.” Apple Bloom grinned for a long moment, then cleared her throat. “Ahem. Anyhow, ah’ll get ready fer supper. See yah guys then.”

She rushed off, pausing only to pick up a dropped hammer.

They entered the farmhouse. Cheerilee smiled as they approached. She held a small baby in her forelegs as she graded a few early-year tests. “Look, Cinnamon, it’s Aunt Applejack! Say hello!”

“Bubba!” the little burgundy filly giggled.

“So that there’s mah sister-in-law, Cheerilee,” Applejack said, “an’ in the kitchen yer gonna see mah big lug of an older brother.”

Cinnamon gasped when she saw Care’s orange coat. “Owngg! Scooroo!”

Spike lifted a hand and let the baby grab at his claw. “No, that’s not Scootaloo, cutie. It’s Care. Can you say Care?”

“Car!” Cinnamon called out. “Upplejock!”

Care and Applejack stood upright. They shared a slow, mystified glance.

“Wow,” Care said, “the more things change…”

***

Cheerilee leaned against the table, her cheeks propped up by her hooves. “So when President Mangle said that all the world leaders were coming…”

“He meant all of them,” Care said. She licked a bit of cucumber off of her lips. “Turns out discovering a new sapient lifeform is a big deal.”

“An’ were they colorful or what?” Applejack shifted on her chair, her hat draped over the back. “We had breezies, zebras, donkeys. Most of them idiots, too.”

“Seabreeze wasn’t so bad.” Care slurped up some broth. “And Shardscale was actually pretty cool.”

“Points to them for not bein’ total ignoramuses,” Applejack conceded.

Apple Bloom had traded her tool vest and bun for a simple ponytail tied with a pink bow. “Who’s Shardscale?”

“The Chronicler of the World,” Spike said. “She’s a dragon. I’ve met her a couple times. She flies around from country to country and records the important events that happen.”

Apple Bloom pursed her lips. “What’s she like?”

“Um, I dunno.” Spike bit deep into a slice of bread, covered in apple butter. “She’s big. Kinda funny. I think she’d describe herself as ‘groovy,’ honestly.”

Big Mac spoke up for the first time since saying “hello” to Care. “That mean she’s flyin’ here tah record the assassination attempt?”

Care chewed on her bottom lip. “I’m not sure how it works. I don’t know if she has to be summoned, or if she’s just flying around randomly, or if she just…” She shrugged. “Knows.”

Apple Bloom leaned on her elbow. “How about you, Spike? You gonna be the Chronicler of the World when Shardscale retires?”

“Maybe?” He looked at his bare back. “My wings would have to grow in, first.”

Cheerilee patted her daughter’s head as Cinnamon messily dug into her applesauce. “What brought you to Ponyville, Care?”

Care went through a mental checklist of things she could and could not share. “I’m helping Princess Twilight Sparkle track down the pony responsible for Princess Celestia’s injuries.”

Cheerilee sighed. “I hope you catch them quickly, for all out sakes. Is the princess doing well?”

“Yes.”

The lie slid out easily enough, but the look in Applejack’s eyes said that she caught it.

“Sure as heck,” Applejack said. “Been proven time an’ again that ain’t nothin’ can keep Celestia down fer long. Ain’t that right, Care?”

Care sipped her water. “Sometimes we wonder why she even has guards.”

Author's Note

In movies, characters may often have a short musical piece that represents them, referred to as a leitmotif. Since books ain't the most musical thing, authors have to make due with recurring phrases or ideas that encapsulate a character. Part of this story for me is going to be exploring what, if anything, I can do with literary motifs.

Grimoire

The clock on Dulcimer’s wall struck three. The pink-coated unicorn opened his eyes in the midst of the darkest night he’d ever seen. No moon had risen to replace the sun in the sky. Few stars could pierce the veil of the clouds. The chill that so often heralded the dying of autumn and the birth of winter came fast and bitter.

In the days since Hurricane had returned from her second attempt on the princess’ life, the nights had seen sparse care. During the mornings, the sun lurched into the air, as if jerked from its resting place by an uncaring hoof. Sunset was a similarly unceremonious affair.

All in all, Dulcimer thought to himself, events were proceeding far better than expected.

He rose from the bed, letting the covers flop to the floor in a tangled heap. The clock ticked away, never halting its constant beat.

Tick, tock, tick, tock…

Dulcimer smirked. “Stop.”

Tick, tock, ti—

The second hand slowed mid-tick. The tock echoed loud in Dulcimer’s ears as his horn glowed. Dust motes in the air froze in place. His settling quilt leaned over in an unnatural angle, completely unsupported. He brought his hoof before his face, noting the odd pink afterimage it left behind each time he moved. He took a deep breath in, let it flow out his mouth, and released the spell.

—ck, tock, tick, tock…

His small smile soured. His face twisted as he growled at the clock. “You can slow the progress of time, or even stop it, however briefly… but you cannot turn it back.”

A spark from his horn rang the bell on his bedside table. As always, Scuttlebutt was at his door immediately. “Sir? You need something?”

“Don’t you ever sleep?” Dulcimer asked. “Honestly, it’s three in the morning.”

“I’m always on duty.” A hint of the little pony’s cheese-eating grin showed through strands of his thin brown mane. “Always am I at the beck and call of my master.”

“You flatter me.” Dulcimer rubbed his purple goatee. “I think I’d like to do a little heavy reading. Something to make me sleep better at night.”

Dulcimer saw the tightened skin around Scuttlebutt’s eyes, but chose to ignore it. “Something difficult to find, I would imagine,” the aide said.

“Something one-of-a-kind.” Dulcimer brought his eyes back to the mounted clock. It was an intricately-carved piece, covered with tiny figurines of ponies frolicking through cornfields. At the top was a small, purple and pink colt sitting beside a wizened mare. The hammer in her grip tapped away at a small stringed instrument on her lap every hour.

Scuttlebutt coughed into his hoof. “Might I have a little more to go on, sir?”

“The library,” Dulcimer blurted. He shook his head and tore his eyes from the clock. “It’s at the library. The Royal Cantertlot Archives.”

He blinked a few times to get the odd sting out of his eyes. He finally drew himself up, his face composed. “It’s sealed, sadly enough. That’s why I need you, specifically, to get it for me. You know how to get in tight spaces.”

Scuttlebutt chuckled, cold and dry. “There are those who would call me a rat.”

Dulcimer laughed. “Rat or no, you’ve got the right tools for the job. I expect you’ll have it back by tonight.” He tilted his head toward the door. “Naturally, you have your pick of the security detail if you need it.”

“Quite possibly.” Scuttlebutt rolled his skinny neck. “The name of the book?”

The mounted, wood-carved clock caught Dulcimer’s eyes once more. His ears twitched with every tick. “The Grimoire Alicorn. You’ll find it on the most secure level, I assume.”

Scuttlebutt shifted his weight from left to right. “That… sounds as though it’s a bit much for a bedtime story, sir.”

Dulcimer lowered his ears over his head. He waved a hoof without sparing his aide a second glance. “It can’t hurt at this point. You know what to do. You know what to look for. I expect your usual level of success.”

“Mm, yes.” Scuttlebutt tossed his limp mane. “Speaking of success, what do you hope to accomplish with this little endeavor?”

Dulcimer grinned. “It’s like I said: Something to help me sleep better at night.”

Scuttlebutt bowed and slunk off through the hallways of Blueblood Manor.

Tick, tock, tick, tock…

Viscount Dulcimer levitated a brush from his personal vanity. He studied himself in the mirror as he cared for his shoulder-length mane. “All the time in the world, and still not nearly enough.”

***

In Canterlot Castle, an altercation was taking place. Daring Do was speaking with a portly stallion in tones a little louder than necessary, while Care, Time, and Blank did their best to pretend they didn’t know her.

Daring Do stomped her hooves. She towered over the stallion before her, doing her best to intimidate him into giving her an answer she liked. “Whadda yah mean she’s unavailable?”

Natter fought to keep his face neutral. He spread his forelegs wide to block access to a staircase leading to the Dream’s Keep. “I mean that the princess is otherwise engaged, and does not wish to see anypony at this time.”

“Otherwise engaged.” Daring pulled her face into a disbelieving scowl. She shot Care a glance, but the guard was too busy trying to hold back a blush to respond. “Otherwise engaged, huh? Well, is there anything you can do to otherwise disengage her?”

“I’m afraid not.” Natter shook his head so hard that his monocle fell from his eye. “The castle staff are under express orders not to go up there during the dreamwalking state. Any disruptions could have untold effects on both the dreamer and the princess.”

“Untold effects.” Daring grinned and patted him on the shoulder. “What sort of effects?”

“Ah… the untold sort.” Natter squinted. “Well how am I supposed to know? I’m a scheduling advisor, not a wizard.”

Daring Do rolled a hoof. “Will the real wizard please stand up?”

Blankety cleared his throat. “Um… d-disorientation for both the dreamer and the dream walker… Migraines. An inability to use magic for a period of time…”

Time glanced at Blankety Blank’s hornless forehead. “Are you a wizard?”

“No.” Blank ducked his head. “No, just w-well-read.”

“This is easy enough to fix,” Care said. She stepped forward and tipped her horn. “When do you expect Princess Luna to be finished?”

“That… is a good question,” Natter said.

Care blinked. She rubbed her left temple with an orange hoof. “And what’s the answer?”

Natter cleaned his monocle and replaced it over his eye. “Well, that is, I’m not sure.”

“Not sure?” Daring Do nudged Time Turner in the ribs. “Get a load of this guy.”

“It’s just… just…” Natter’s ears fell. “She’s been in there for three days. She only wakes for sunrise and sunset.”

Daring Do’s wings slumped to the ground. Time Turner dropped the gear he’d been fiddling. Blankety Blank’s mouth slipped open.

Care took a full step forward. “Let me up there.”

“I told you, I ca—”

“Let me up there right now!” Care put her hooves on his shoulders. “She’s never dreamed this deep before! She could be lost, or in danger, or any number of things. Has she even eaten?”

“I don’t know.” Natter brushed her hooves away. “All I know is that she decreed that she is to be left alone for as long as she stays up there.”

Care winced. “And you just let her—?”

“She is the High Princess!” Natter said. “She is acting Sovereign of the Sun and the Moon! It’s my job to do as she says!”

“No, it’s your job to make sure she’s where she needs to be!” Care’s prod to his foreleg knocked him back. Her chest rose as she sucked in a deep breath and turned away.

Time Turner ran his foreleg over his spiky mane. He touched Care’s shoulder. “Take a breather, Captain. We’ll figure out something.”

Care flicked her ponytail over her shoulder. “That’s what I’m afraid of,” she said with a gesture to Daring.

Daring smirked. “That’s fair.”

Time twitched an ear downward. “Mister Natter? Isn’t there anything you can do?”

“I’m afraid not.” The advisor held his hooves out. “When reason fails, what more do I have left?”

Time pressed his lips together. He shrugged lightly, his eyes turned down. “Your courage, hopefully.”

Natter rubbed his uncovered eye. “Well, if you adventuring folks have an excess, the rest of us could do with a taste.”

Time chuffed. He furrowed his brow. “You haven’t left this spot for three days, either. Have you?”

“Well… well, that is, I…” Natter coughed into his hoof and straightened his tailcoat. “I have my duty.”

“As do we all.” Time Turner threw him a casual salute. “I pray the rest of the day finds you in a better place, Mister Natter.”

The four of them walked away, leaving the tower and its guardian behind. Care whispered into Blank’s ear. “Earn your keep. What kinda emotions were you picking up?”

“Just fear,” he muttered back. “The p-poor guy’s terrified.”

Care groaned. She increased her pace and pulled alongside Daring. “So, since we couldn’t get the princess’ permission, what’s your grand scheme for breaking into the sealed archives?”

“‘Breaking in’ is such an ugly phrase.” A smile spread its way to every corner of Daring Do’s face. “All we need to do is walk up to the desk and pretend we’re supposed to be there.”

Care gave her a double-take. “Supposed to be in the most secure archive in the kingdom?”

“Right!” Daring patted Turner’s back with a wing. “Why wouldn’t a couple of professors and their aides be allowed in?”

Time Turner scrunched his muzzle. “Let me count the ways.”

“Whatever, all we gotta do is make the librarian feel like their job is in jeopardy.” Daring Do closed her eyes and lifted her head. “Relax. I bluffed my way into a diamond dog mine once. This is gonna be a piece of cake.”

***

Luna and Celestia stood on the outskirts of the capitol city. Sombra’s castle loomed in the distance, dark clouds swirling overhead as they were drawn to its magic. Luna peered over an abandoned cart at a chain-gang being led to their mine. Crystal Guards flanked them, spears trained on their sides.

Celestia’s shallow breath came from her left. “Would that we could merely run in and free the lot of them.”

“We can do a great deal better than that,” Luna said, remembering the words she had said that day. She followed her memory like a script, line for line, word for word. “With Sombra cast down, ’twill be a joyous day in the Empire.”

“I fear my heart does not feel the same way.” Celestia lowered her helmet over her head. “It feels like such a waste. Sombra seemed a decent fellow.”

“He seemed that way. More than a year ago.” Luna clasped her own helmet. “Ponies change for good and ill. They are hardly the example of strong principles.” She fought the need to bite her tongue and stop up the following words. “They are just as likely to abandon you as to adore you.”

“Every lie holds a shred of truth.”

Luna shook her head. She focused on the chain gang as they disappeared around a corner. “There. An opening. I suggest we take it post haste.”

“Verily.” Celestia spread her wings and leaped across the street in a flash. Luna copied her arc, maintaining a deep cloak of shadows in the early morning twilight. They bobbed and weaved among the ruined city, bypassing guards and juking patrols. Tense moments passed when a single stray shout would bring Sombra’s entire army down on their heads.

At last, they came to the base of the tower. Cold that had little to do with the north’s eternal winter chilled them to their very bones. The alcove where the Crystal Heart was meant to sit lay empty and exposed. Icicles hung from the roof, sure to fall if disturbed in any way. The door leading into the tower lay open. Open, and suspiciously inviting.

“That is far too convenient to be healthy,” Celestia said.

“Dost thou think he expects something like this?” Luna kept her ears on a swivel. “Are we walking into a trap?”

“Most likely.” Celestia ground her teeth. She lit her horn with a brilliant sunlit glow. “But thou heard Hurricane. This is do or die, now or ne’er. Without us, the Empire will perish utterly.”

Dawn peered over the Crystal Mountains. A shout went up from the edge of the city. It grew in power and volume, and was soon joined by the clang of armor and the clash of spears.

Before the sun could rise completely out of the depths of night, it was obscured by a wall of clouds. Colored wings flapped in their midst, forming and directing with pegasus magic. The clouds swirled gradually as rain began to fall.

“We must make haste,” Luna said, “before the commander’s hurricane levels the city.”

Lightning flashed and the wind played with Celestia’s mane. “She will hold back. She always does.”

Luna hurried indoors. “I would rather not find this out to be the sole moment where she allows herself and her Elites to let loose.”

The Crystal Palace, once a bright nucleus of love and truth, lay dim in the glow of unnatural purple torchlight. Rain beat against stained-crystal windows, darkened by an atmosphere of gloom. Luna pulled her wings tight against her sides for warmth and comfort.

“Darkness treads these halls,” Celestia whispered. “Do not let your guard down.”

Luna cringed as a rapid click sounded from above. “Would that we did,” she muttered.

A drop of saliva plopped between them. They spun around, ready to cast a spell if needed. Their eyes went upward, followed by the rest of their heads. Their jaws fell open.

The thing crawling on the ceiling was almost a pony. It had the general body shape, head size, and four legs. What it lacked was hooves, replaced instead by claws. Rather than rows of squared teeth, it had sharp fangs. Rather than bright, expressive eyes, it had dark soulless pits.

It hung by its right foreleg, revealing an exposed ribcage and a red, glowing heart.

As it leaped down to pounce on a screeching Celestia, Luna stuck her tongue out. “That wight is far uglier than I remember.”

***

Daring Do buttoned her tan shirt up to her neck as she marched. In a few swift motions, she had twisted her mane into a tight bun. She slipped small spectacles out of her saddlebags and slid them over her eyes. She grinned and spread her wings in a quick salute. “Ta da!”

Care glanced over, her green mane in a loose braid. Her eyes ran up and down the “disguise.” Her mouth settled into a half-hearted smile. “Congratulations, you look like you’re in your early forties. Nopony will suspect you’re secretly an adventurer.”

Blank covered up a laugh with a harsh cough.

Daring stuck her tongue out. “I’ll have you know this is merely one of many disguises I have in my repertoire. You should see my ‘crotchety old stallion’ impression.”

“You mean we haven’t already?” Time Turner said. His saddlebags clanked at his side as his two metal gauntlets rattled within. “I thought that was your default expression.”

Daring glared severely over her lenses. “Keep a lid on it, professor, or I’ll take the ruler to you.”

Care let loose a deep sigh. “You two are adorable when you flirt, but can we please get going before we get arrested?”

Time reared up, his throat tight. “W-w-well, of course we should—”

Daring patted his shoulder. “She’s got a point hidden under that exasperation. Let’s get a move on.”

The library sat before them, it massive doors open to the public. Students from every walk of life flitted about, trying to meet deadlines, researching obscure topics, or merely passing the time with a good book. Nopony paid the four of them any mind as they walked between the towering shelves. Row upon row of bookcases dwarfed them, featuring everything from ancient tomes to last week’s periodicals. In the center of the library—the heart of the operation—was the main desk. A ring of counters surrounded cabinets filled with the name and number of every book in the building.

The librarian looked up from a list and pulled a smile onto her face. She folded her hooves over the desk and spoke quietly. “May I help you?”

“We’re here on a hefty research assignment from the mares upstairs.” Daring winked at the mare. “If you know what I mean.”

The mare shifted in her seat. Her eyes jumped away from Daring to each of the others. “What subject will you be researching?”

Daring placed a small, smug smile on her mouth. “We just need access to the lower Starswirl Wing.”

The mare’s smile vanished as though it had never been there. She glanced to the left and right, her eyes wide, a cold sweat breaking out on her forehead. “Oh dear. Oh my. You’ll be the… the ones wanting access to the sealed archives?”

Daring Do opened her mouth, but came up short. “Ahuh?”

Care and Time Turner exchanged a confused glance. Blankety Blank’s face was unreadable stone.

The librarian wiped her forehead as she trotted out from behind the desk. “You’d best follow me. You’ll need to work quickly and hope nopony notices.”

“What the heck is this?” Care whispered into Time’s ear. “Did Natter contact the library saying we were coming?”

Time spoke out of the side of his mouth. “Did we tell Natter we wanted to go to the library?”

Care blinked. She bit down hard on her lip. “I don’t remember. This is fishy like you wouldn’t believe.”

The librarian led them out a small side door, one that would have only been used as a fire exit if the alarm hadn’t been disconnected. Manicured lawns lay between them and an outer building, one hosting a regular guard of armored soldiers. It was known as the Starswirl Wing as a convenience to librarians, since he had written most of the scrolls and books held in it.

Most, but not all.

Another side door was opened by the jittery librarian. She ushered them inside, being careful not to enter the building herself. “It’s the locked door at the end of this hallway. You’ll have thirty minutes.”

“Um. Thank you,” Daring said. She unclipped the top button of her shirt to give herself room to breathe. “We really appreciate the he—”

“You tell the ‘mares upstairs’ that this is the end for me, do you understand?” the librarian said hastily and breathlessly. “I’m done. Don’t come to me anymore. I’ve had enough, do you understand?” All four of her knees quivered as the blood rushed to her face. “I-I can’t take it anymore!”

The librarian slammed the door shut without waiting for a response. Daring Do kept the smile plastered to her face as she regarded her coconspirators. “Well. That’s just a little ominous.”

“Still, looking a gift in the mouth does us little good.” Time nodded at the distant door. “We must hurry, but also keep an eye out. We’re obviously not the ponies she was expecting and I don’t want to be here when they show up.”

“I do.” Daring pounded her hooves together. “Anypony who’d make a mare as terrified as that needs a good walloping.”

“Time’s wasting,” Care said. She shoved Blank before her, causing him to stumble each step forward. “We’ll worry about the library blackmail conspiracy after we’ve dealt with our ancient assassin conspiracy.”

“Fine.” Daring pointed at the white earth pony. “I know what kinda stuff we’re looking for, so Blank, you’re gonna search with me. Care, you and Time get to keep a lookout.”

“Sounds fair.” Care’s pink eyes gave Blank a once-over. “Don’t let him out of your sight.”

A gemstone over the door revealed that it was usually locked with an enchantment, though that particular spell had been rendered dormant. A staircase led down into a dim, torch-lit murk. The air was dust more than oxygen, particles from ancient books and decaying artifacts.

Daring Do took a deep breath. “Ah. This brings back memories. A tomb here, a monstrous cave there…”

“And books.” Care took up position beside the stairs, her horn lit with a mild pink glow. “Get looking.”

Time Turner sneezed as he pulled on his metal gauntlets. “I have memories of hay fever all flooding back at once.”

“Come on, Blank.” Daring wrapped a wing around Blankety’s shoulders. “Look for anything that was written by somepony named Hurricane.”

Blank cringed as he looked over the haphazardly placed artifacts around the room. Little rhyme or reason was prevalent. “Doesn’t seem like there’s much of a filing system.”

“You gotta use your nose in this kinda situation,” Daring said, pulling out a book at random. She tossed it back on the pile. “You know, take a good wiff and let ’er rip.”

Blank closed his eyes. He furrowed his brow in concentrations. His nostrils twitched as a faint sensation hit them. “Alright. I might have something.”

Daring rolled her eyes. “I don’t mean sniff it out literally. I just meant use your intuit—”

Blank trotted between the bookcases, following the scent of emotions. Daring Do blew the dust from her nostrils before walking after him.

***

The grotesque creature wrapped its lanky limbs around Celestia’s throat and tightened its hold. The elder alicorn reared up and flapped her wings, the scream cut off in her throat. Luna followed the script of her memories, grasping the wight with telekinesis and trying to pull it from her sister.

The creature’s body stretched like elastic as it was yanked. It turned it s head completely around to growl at Luna with long, sharp fangs. It molded its arms and legs like putty to first grasp Celestia’s wings, then tangle itself up in her legs. The mare fell on her side, her breath nothing but a hoarse cough.

Luna charged and plunged her horn right into its exposed heart.

Rasping laughter came just before several sharp pricks stabbed her shoulder. The creature bit down, drawing trickles of blood. Its heart stretched and warped around Luna’s horn, leaving the monster completely undamaged. She kicked with all her might, but the wight’s body merely bent under the impact and sprung back into shape.

The wight stared into Luna’s eyes with sinister, dark pits.

The beast released its hold on Luna with a scream. It reeled back with a crack in its false joints. Cold touched the tips of Luna’s blue coat and drew spiraling patterns on her armor. She looked past the monster, past her sister, past the hallway to see that they were no longer alone.

A little unicorn mare walked down the hallway, her horn aglow and two magenta eyes shining out from beneath a heavy hood. Nothing else could be seen of her under her cloak, save for the tips of her green hooves and the end of her long, reddish braid. Frost touched the ground wherever she walked, crackling and swirling in a chilled mist.

The wight screamed louder as its entire body was slowly encased in ice.

Clover the Clever stood before the frozen statue, preparing another spell. “Evil wight of undead fright, you have haunted your last night.”

A single kinetic blast struck the wight in the center of its chest. Cracks raced across its body before it finally shattered into a million pieces.

Luna slumped to her haunches. “I shall have to remember that trick.”

Celestia choked as she fought air into her lungs. Her horn sparkled, drawing her pike close to her side. “Why aren’t you at the front?”

Clover’s glowing eyes looked down. “There is greater need of me here. Hurricane and Pansy have Sombra’s forces occupied…”

Luna staunched her shoulder wound with her wing. She gritted her teeth rather than screech in pain. “Why were we not informed?”

Clover the Clever shrunk down on herself. The little bit of muzzle that was visible past her cowl twitched. “I did not tell you. I did not tell anypony.”

Celestia and Luna shared a glance; Celestia’s surprised, and Luna’s angry.

“There are things of darkness which should never see the light,” Clover said in a rush. “I sought to destroy them in the shadows before they could contaminate the world. Before Sombra could contaminate Equestria.”

“What sort of things?” Celestia asked.

“You know, as well as most, that Sombra is a stallion of sorcery and science both. A dangerous combination.” Clover gestured to the shattered remains of the wight. She shook her head. “But it is now known that he also dabbles in witchcraft.”

“Witchcraft?” Celestia tilted her head to the side. “What is witchcraft?”

“It is to draw power from worlds beyond. It is the use of an outside influence to bend others to your will. It is to raise the dead from their sleep.” Clover trotted down the grand hall with the sisters close behind. “It is to correspond with demons and dark principalities: The Unseelie.”

“And you felt it wise to keep such things secret?” Luna snapped. “Teacher, had we known, we would—”

“Have assaulted the Crystal Palace in greater force? Thrown life after life away seeking to penetrate its black heart?” Clover’s soft voice broke into a sigh. “No, my faithful student. It is better that I demolish this atrocity alone while you two deal with Sombra himself. I would not have even shown myself had you not been in dire need.”

“It sounds as though you are the one in dire need, Clover.” Celestia was careful to watch the ceiling for any more surprise attacks. “If what you say is true, Sombra will not leave his relics unguarded.”

Clover laughed lightly. “I am no foal. I do not go in unprepared.” She pointed her horn to the double doors at the end of the corridor. “Go. Your fates lie in the throne room.”

She turned down a side path, leaving the alicorn sisters alone in the palace once more.

Luna glanced at her shoulder to see that it had scabbed up. She gave Celestia a swift nod and sprinted at the doors. “Come, while there still remains a chance to surprise him!”

“Luna—!” Celestia cursed under her breath and charged behind the blue alicorn. She lowered the tip of her pike, aiming it at whatever lay behind the purple crystal blocking their way. Their horns glowed as each grabbed one door in their telekinesis.

The doors slammed open, and Celestia threw her pike like a spear. The weapon stopped in midair as Celestia halted it.

The throne room had been corrupted. Where once was a sparkling hall of crystal and fabric, there only lay darkness and shadows. The flowing tapestries had been replaced by axes. The symbols of the Crystal Houses had been transformed into Sombra’s visage. The red carpet was a mere hole in the floor, topping a staircase that led into the depths of the palace.

The throne, a regal seat befitting the ruler of an empire, had been twisted into a series of dark spikes with red tips. Fire burned within the crystal and heated the entire room. Murk rose from the enchanted torches and collected along the domed ceiling.

A small unicorn colt with a white coat and a blond mane sat on the throne. He was wrapped in a heavy, fur-lined robe, which he used to dry his constant tears.

Luna felt a jolt of pain in her heart. She fought against her desire to rush over to the child and wrap him in her wings. Instead, she spoke in a harsh voice. “Who art thou? What art thou doing here?”

“I—I am Prince Periwinkle,” he gasped. “P-please help. My mother…”

“Perry, it’s us.” Celestia removed her helmet, revealing her flowing rainbow of a mane. “Don’t you remember your Auntie Celestia?”

Periwinkle burst out of his robe and ran to Celestia. He hugged her legs as tight as he could. “Auntie! You came! S-Sombra said you would be too late, but I knew you’d come!”

“F-forgive me,” Luna whispered. “You have grown since last I saw you. I did not recognize you.”

Periwinkle tugged on Celestia’s wing with his mouth, dragging her out of the throne room. “Come! You have to hurry! You have to stop my brother!”

“Do you know where he is?” Celestia followed Periwinkle’s lead, her horn letting loose sparks. “We must hurry, or Hurricane will not be able to—”

“He is in his laboratory.” Periwinkle scampered down the same corridor that Clover took. The torches became sparse, the walls became dim, and the shadows became deep. “It was once the old dungeons, but… He’s doing something awful, Auntie. He’s hurting mother. He took her away and won’t let me see her.”

Celestia levitated the colt onto her back and resealed her helmet. She increased her pace to a swift canter. “Time is of the essence, Perry. What is Sombra doing down here? Where does he get his power?”

“I don’t know.” Periwinkle buried his face in Celestia’s armored neck. “But he keeps talking about how he wants to make an alicorn.”

Celestia’s and Luna’s tails thrashed as they plunged deeper into the Crystal Palace.

***

“Bingo!” Daring Do swiped a book off the shelves. The grey cover held a black stamp of six crescents, connected at the points and arranged like spiraling flower petals. “Hurricane’s signature and family crest. Now, let’s see if my Early Modern Equish holds up.”

Blank walked among the dusty shelves, his nose twitching. More importantly, however, his antennae picked up traces of emotion from days gone by. A stack of letters held the mixed sweetness of love and hollow sourness of despair. A tome of magic crackled with savory compassion and spicy anger.

“What’s all this?” Daring flipped page after page. Maps, diagrams, and sketches flashed before her eyes. She slammed a hoof down on a nearby pony-sized book, raising a cloud of flaked pages. She coughed until the dust settled. “This is all technical stuff. Troop movements, armor, strategies, formations. Nothing I’d seal away.” She turned it over to look at the blank rear cover. “Heck, I think I’ve even read a modern edition of this thing.”

“It p-probably got lumped in w-with everything else,” Blankety muttered. He hovered his hoof over the book spines facing him, looking for some spark of Hurricane’s presence. “Wouldn’t b-be the first time the b-baby got thrown out w-with the bath water.”

“I hate that saying.” Daring grinned when she pulled another book bearing Hurricane’s seal out of the pile. Her face fell when it revealed similar information to the previous. “Who’d be dumb enough to toss their own kid out like that?”

“I’ll just m-m-mention that the turn of phrase came from somewhere.” Blank rested his hoof on the shelf and turned to face the mare. “Different t-times produce different ponies.”

“Yeah, that’s for sure.” Daring found a tiny, wallet-sized booklet. She opened it to the middle and eagerly read through the script. “Nice! A day planner. This has all of her appointments for about a year.”

Blank slid his hoof over the books without looking. “What year?”

“Um…” Daring jumped to the inside cover. “Five AU. After Unification.”

“I kn-know what AU stands for.”

“Fine.” Daring stuck her tongue out the side of her mouth. “Might be some good stuff. We’ll take it.”

“T-take it?” Blankety reared up. “B-but it’s a reference boo—”

“Oh hush, we’re already being illegal.” Daring stuffed the rare, ancient book into her saddlebags. “Who’s gonna miss it? Besides, we’ve only got about fifteen minutes until the guards come by. I ain’t gonna be able to cross-reference anything in fifteen minutes.”

Blanketly Blank grumbled as he returned to his task. “Hmph. You c-could at least pretend we’re doing the right th—”

A sensation like hot iron shot through his hoof, trailed up his leg, and exploded in his head. He collapsed into a heap, clutching the limb to his chest. The heat vanished in an instant, as if it had never been there in the first place.

Daring jumped up, her wings spread. “What happened? You okay?”

“Y-yeah.” Blank pulled himself up. His hoof was as immaculate as it ever got, polished smooth with just a hint of length to the hair on his fetlocks. Just as it was every transformation. “J-just got surprised is all.”

Daring trotted over, another book held beneath her mustard-tan wing. She squinted at the books, finding nothing out of place. “You’re not scared of spiders, are you?”

“N-no, just—” He put his hoof on the shelves, his senses braced for assault.

Most of the emotions that went into writing dulled over time. Love letters held a sweet flavor only so long before they paled. Comedies smelt of bananas for only so long before the humor within was outpaced by the laughter it generated. Recipes swirled with choice ingredients for a time, then faded into an aftertaste.

The hot rage behind the book he held in his hooves was as fierce as the day it was written.

The cover was black leather, crafted from cowhide. Silvery metal lined the edges, eventually forming the lock that held the volume closed. A lock that had been shattered long ago. The book fell open to a sketch of a pegasus mare. The anatomy was spot-on, depicting the path magic took throughout her body. The lines ran from her heart to every limb, especially concentrated in her wings.

Hurricane’s cutie mark was drawn in the lower corner of the page, alongside her crest.

The next page showcased a similar drawing, this time featuring Clover the Clever’s four-leaf cutie mark. Another held Smart Cookie’s chocolate chip-based design. Further on, all the members of the Founders had their own chance to shine.

Halfway through the book, the body of an alicorn was drawn with loving detail. Magic pathways were plotted, notes called out suspected size-increases, wingspan and horn height were theorized.

A crest lay in the bottom corner. It was a unicorn head in profile, with a long, curved horn. Fangs, rather than squared teeth, were readily visible in its open mouth.

“Horseapples,” Daring hissed. “What in the flying feather is this thing?”

Blankety Blank slammed the book shut. Glossy letters—only visible in a certain light—stood out from the cover. He angled it so that Daring Do could see. “Y-you tell me.”

Daring Do squinted, mouthing out the words before saying the title aloud. “The Grimoire Alicorn? Never heard of it, but…” She opened the flap of her saddlebags with a tense flick of her wing. “It’s got Hurricane in it, so it’s got to go.”

Blankety deposited the book. He waved his hoof, trying to lose the burn that still stung his body. “What the hay is a gri-moar?”

“Grimoire. It’s an old-timey word for a magical textbook.” Daring rubbed her throat to coax the sudden lump downward. “But this looks more like—er—like a blueprint.”

She checked the time on a small pocket watch. “Dang. We got like, five minutes before we need to start scooting. Get it into overdrive, Blank.”

Blank’s rear hoof bumped a ragged book titled The Art of Manipulation, by Chrysalis. He sucked in a deep, shuddering breath. “M-makes me wonder what sort of other s-secrets they have buried down here.”

***

“Miss Decimal, a word, please.”

The librarian shuddered at the sound of the oily voice. She frowned severely and turned to the little earth pony on the far side of the desk. “Mister Scuttlebutt, I’ve already shown your people into the archive. My debt has been paid and I am done working for—”

“My people?” Scuttlebutt’s cheese-eating smile soured. He gestured to the five strong stallions milling around the library. “These are my people, Deci. I told you I was coming myself. Whoever you showed into the archives was not with me.”

Decimal’s heart raced as sweat streaked down her back and sides. “Oh no.”

Scuttlebutt sighed. He brought his front hooves onto the countertop and leaned closer to the mare. “I understand. You’re under a lot of stress. You aren’t cut out for all this cloak and dagger nonsense.” He reached out to stroke her mane. “Believe me, your mistake is totally understandable.”

He shut his eyes, moving his head from side to side. “But not forgivable.”

A high-pitched squeal lodged in her chest as he caressed her cheek. He leaned closer than should have been possible with his short stature. He whispered in her ear, sharp fangs appearing in his mouth.

“If I don’t get what I set out for, Miss Decimal, I will suck you dry.”

Author's Note

This chapter ran longer than I thought, so...

The encounter with Sombra will happen next chapter.

As will the scuffle with Scuttlebutt.

And so will the meeting with Starswirl.

So, yeah, all the cool parts of the chapter got pushed back. Sorry about that. :twilightblush:

Dastard

“Intruders!”

Twilight Velvet bolted upright as the voice bounded into the guest bedroom. She slid from the bed and pulled her nighty off, her hooves clomping onto the floor. “Night, up!”

“Buhuh?” Night Light struggled as the loose sleeves of his striped pajamas tangle up with his covers. He brushed his rat’s nest of a mane down and blinked at his wife. “Breakfast yet?”

She slapped him lightly on his cheeks. “Wake up, we’ve got a problem. Care just shouted a warning over whatever kind of magic announcement system this castle has. We’ve got a fight on our hooves.”

He shook his head as his brain gradually came to wakefulness. “What do you need me to do?”

“Contact the nearest guard outpost.” Velvet threw the door open and stepped into the gloom. The walls glowed with a faint hint of magic—not nearly enough to light the way. She lit her horn to cast the castle in a soft blue glow. “I think it’s Canterlot’s garrison. If this is our mystery mare, we need reinforcements.”

Night Light pulled a radio from the bedside stand and searched for the right frequency. “And you?”

“Me?” Velvet snarled. “I’m gonna give these yahoos a piece of my mind.”

She broke into a full gallop, charging through the castle in the general direction of the staircase. She didn’t want to try for the elevators if they’d been tampered with. A flight of stairs took her downward, to the level where Spike’s room lay. She clomped a hoof against his door. “Spike! Spike!”

A voice hailed from further along the hallway. “In the kitchen!”

A quick run brought her to the room. Spike hung out the window, his head swinging between looking upwards and peering down. He dragged himself back inside and wrinkled his forehead. “I don’t know how they got inside. The main gates are locked tight.”

Velvet came alongside him and craned her neck. “What about the windows?”

“Um…” Spike’s eyes flashed bright green in the darkness. His sharp teeth dug into his lower lip and tilted his head back. “I… I don’t see anything up there, but…” He gripped the sill tight, digging into the crystal as he leaned forward. “Uh oh. Over to the left. That window’s… it’s hanging open.”

“Ground floor?” Velvet backed away before turning around and heading for the door. “Probably not pegasi, then. I’ll see what I can do about them.”

“What do you want me to do?” Spike wrung his hands together, his muscles flexing along his strong arms. “What can I do?”

Velvet took a deep breath, her eyes flicking between her hooves. “Head upwards. Get to the library and make sure they don’t steal anything powerful or dangerous. Help Captain Carrot if you find her.”

She noted the twitch of his tail and the sag in his shoulders. She cupped his cheek in her hoof. “Don’t worry, Spike. Not many things can hurt a dragon. Definitely nothing these bozos have got.”

“I-if you say so.” He bobbed his head. “Alright. I’ll go. Stay safe, okay?”

“That I can’t do.” She winked at him. “But I will stay alive. Let’s teach these nincompoops what it means to deal with the Sparkle family.”

They went their separate ways, she towards the ground floor, and he to the library a few stories above. Neither of them realized that they left the kitchen window open.

***

Time Turner reevaluated his strategy of blindly tackling Hurricane when the mare tossed him to the floor once more. The armor shrugged off the sturdiest blow he could give, even to the point of absorbing the impact whenever he was able to knock her to the ground. Still, getting knocked around by her hooves was a better alternative to dodging flying wingblades. It just wasn’t something they could keep up for long.

He glanced at the wingblades embedded in the flipped table. A strong tug could pull them out, but he had no real way to throw them. Not with any amount of skill. The blades would no doubt be dulled by the impact, just enough that they’d be useless against Hurricane’s armor.

He got to his feet only to be knocked down by a quick headbutt. He struggled to regain his breath after the constant kicks and punches from the assassin. His chest and face were bruising, and his jaw was swollen and red.

He watched Daring Do face off one-on-one with Hurricane. Daring was only slightly more successful than he was. She was a boxer through and through, ducking and weaving through most punches, while blocking the rest with upraised forelegs. A stray hit struck her left wing, sending a clear jolt of pain across her face.

Hurricane leapt up and spread her wings. Candlelight glinted off the metal blades hidden among her feathers. Time leaped up and bit down on her tail. The last thing they needed was to give her enough room to maneuver. His neck jerked as he was lifted into the air, carried by the mare’s strong downward strokes. He was forced to let go before she got high enough to dash him against the ground.

A bright green flash exploded against Hurricane’s side. She and the flame-wreathed blur tumbled through the air to smash against the stained-glass window, shattering several frames. They plummeted out of the air and crumpled right beside Daring Do.

The flames died down to reveal the black carapace of Blankety Blank. His cloven hooves fought to dig past Hurricane’s armor, but the magic held back his every blow. A bite against her neck was knocked back by a flick of her wing.

The assassin flipped into the air and kicked Blankety high. In the midst of her spin, she swung a wing in a full arc. Several blades followed the changeling, some sticking into his chest, others finding his joints. His wings flared out from his body, and he wheedled off towards the bookshelves.

He reached a hoof out to grasp the edge and pull him up. Green blood leaked from his left knee, but the blades hadn’t penetrated his exoskeleton.

He winced. A sharp prick against his stomach told him that some had gotten through. He glanced down at his body to see the metal embedded in his torso. They’d take a lot of work to wiggle out, and even more time to heal.

A tug against his tail told him that he should have been paying attention.

He slid backwards off the shelf and was launched at speed at the ground. He landed hard on his back, which was followed by Hurricane landing hard on his stomach. She grasped the sides of his head and squeezed with all her might. A distressing crackling sound came from somewhere behind his ears.

Blankety’s multifaceted eyes rolled back. He caught a glimpse of Time Turner and Daring Do running at him with a table held between them.

The edge of the table hit Hurricane full in the snout. The force of the blow broke the table in half and gave him a chance to slip from her grip. He kicked out with his hind legs and scrambled as fast as his hooves could crawl.

Daring Do pressed the advantage. She leaped at Hurricane with forelegs outstretched. A sky-blue hoof cupped itself behind her head and ran her nose into the side of the bookshelf. Another snap of Hurricane’s hoof cuffed her ear. Daring swung wildly, only to have her foreleg grasped by both of the assassin’s. Hurricane’s rear leg crashed against her right wing, causing a scream to rise from her chest.

Hurricane watched the wing twitch against Daring’s side. “I’ve seen your disease before, flightless one. We called it living death.”

Time Turner’s hoof connected with empty air as Hurricane ducked away. He yelped when the assassin tossed Daring at him. He caught her and held her close.

Hurricane took flight.

Time Turner gritted his teeth and put a tall bookcase between them and the assassin. “Are you hurt?”

“Mostly my pride,” Daring grunted. “Leggo.”

A patter of hoofsteps and the click of claws against crystal sounded from the entryway. Time peered between books as he released Daring. “Looks like more unwanted company.”

Daring kept an eye to the sky. “Can we take ’em?”

“Unlikely. I see two pegasi and a griffon, on top of dear Miss Hurricane.” Time turned to looked at her, but found himself staring right into Blank’s buggish eyes. It took every ounce of control he had not to scream. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!” he hissed.

“S-sorry.”

Hurricane hovered in front of Lanner, her eyes hard. “There are at least three of them in this room. Find the mirror quickly.”

“I know.” The griffon pointed in the direction they’d come with a smoking foreleg. “Zephyr is handling a Royal Guard. It’s likely there are more on the way. We need an exit strateg—”

Hurricane snatched two grenades from his belt. She pulled the pin out of one, held it for a moment, and then flung it at the stained glass window. The window shattered with a colorful, ear-splitting blast. “There’s your way out. Find it now. I’ll hold them back.”

Time Turner cleaned out his ear. “Ouch.” He glanced at Blankety out of the corner of his eye and winced at the blades stuck in his armored hide. “What do they make you people out of?”

“Carapace does g-good against p-piercing.” Blank touched a ginger hoof to his temple. “N-not so much crushing damage.”

“Guys, did you hear that?” Daring Do dragged them under a nearby table, just as the griffon and his goons walked past. Hurricane’s wing beats sounded out overhead. “They’re going after the mirror. Starswirl’s magic mirror. Whatever they want with a portal like that, it cannot be good.”

Blankety Blank licked his lips with his long, forked tongue. “I c-can take the three of them if y—If you two c-can distract Hurricane.”

“What?” Time Turner fought to keep his voice low. “With your injuries? I can’t condone—”

“Shut up, it’s a halfway-decent plan.” Daring massaged her aching wings with her gauntleted hoof. “It’s just until Care and Velvet reach us. No way Twilight slept through that scream. She’s on her way. All of us together, there’s no way Hurricane’s getting away.”

“Best laid plans.” Time Turner placed a hoof against his forehead. “You’re sure you can pull it off, Blankety?”

Blankety’s changeling face crackled as he gave the two of them a devious grin, with a curling mouth and flashing fangs. “T-trust me. They won’t know what hit them.”

He vanished into the shadows.

“Your buddy’s actually pretty terrifying as a changeling.” Daring Do grasped Time’s hoof with hers. “You ready to show Hurricane what it means to tangle with the Knights of Harmony?”

He squeezed back, offering her an unconvincing smirk. “I haven’t anything better to do tonight.”

***

Twilight Velvet leaned around a corner. She could see two ponies, an earth pony and a unicorn, both sitting beneath an open window. They were looking into the throne room, muttering to themselves.

“Geeze, that’s really where they held court?” the unicorn stallion asked.

“Yeah,” the earth pony mare said, “if you can call a bunch of girls talking about friendship ‘court.’”

“Technically, they mostly sat around it during planning sessions.”

“I know. I sat in on one a few years back. What a load of horseapples. Do you believe they’d do anything the Tree of Harmony told them to do?”

“When one of them is Pinkie Pie, I’d believe they’d do anything.” The unicorn stallion glanced up. “Speaking of the Tree of Harmony, is this castle a tree, too? Like, its offspring? Or is it just an extension of the Tree’s will?”

“It’s a tree. It’s a castle. It doesn’t have a will.”

“The Elements of Harmony were necklaces and they had a will.”

“No, that’s stupid. They just did whatever their wearers told them to do.”

“So before, the Elements would do whatever the girls said…”

“Yeah.”

“And after, the girls would do anything the Tree said?”

“Wha—”

“Isn’t the Tree, like, a manifestation of the Elements?”

“I don’t think—”

Twilight Velvet slid along the wall, getting closer and closer. A small grin appeared on the side of her mouth.

“So how come they couldn’t order the Elements around anymore? It doesn’t make sense that they had so much control and then it turned a one-eighty on them.”

“I always figured,” Twilight Velvet said, “that the Elements of Harmony are mystical artifacts that we don’t really understand, and probably aren’t even on the same level of existence we are. You can’t exactly fault their track-record, though.”

The two ponies turned to look at her, their eyes wide. She punched the earth pony mare in the face.

The unicorn lit his horn and fired a bolt of ice her way. Velvet watched it impact harmlessly against a bubble of magic. “You know, people always think Shining Armor made up the shield spell or something.”

The earth pony jumped up with hooves flailing. Velvet ducked under her body and rammed her shoulder into the mare’s belly. A kick with her hind leg snapped the mare’s jaw shut. “And would you believe the big stinker lets them think that? Pshh. Never gives mommy the credit she deserves.”

A flare of her horn sent the earth pony flying towards the ceiling. A dull thud sounded from up above. The unicorn advanced, while Velvet took a few steps back. They faced each other with horns glowing bright in the darkness, hers blue and his a muted red.

Twilight Velvet extinguished her horn and held her hooves up. “Hold up now. Can’t we talk about this?”

The unicorn tilted his head to the side and squinted. He kept his horn trained on her, never noticing the whoosh of air from up above. “No funny business, now—”

The earth pony mare fell on top of him, flattening him with a splat.

“Good talk.” Twilight Velvet pulled the unconscious ponies apart and began to wrap their hooves tight in a rope from her saddlebags. “This’ll do until the Guard comes.”

A pair of hooves clapped behind her back. She turned her head and flashed the newcomer a wink. “How’d I do?”

Night Light’s thin face came into view as he closed the distance. He gave her a small peck on the lips. “Will you marry me?”

Velvet ruffled her husband’s mane. “You keep asking me and the answer’s the same every time.”

“I know. Doesn’t stop me from asking.” He gripped the stallion’s tail with a glow from his horn. “Need some help?”

“Yeah, help me get them into the throne room.” Velvet dragged the mare along behind her. “I don’t want them being trouble when they wake up. How long until the soldiers get here?”

“The pegasi will get here in roughly twenty minutes. Give or take.” Night Light grunted as his horn sputtered. “The unicorns and earth ponies a little after that.”

“Wow.” Twilight Velvet gritted her teeth and gazed at the high-vaulted ceiling. “We’re on our own?”

***

Grenadier Lanner waved his good talon at the two pegasi under his command. “Come on. It’s a magical mirror portal; it cannot be difficult to find.”

“I’d prefer a few more lights myself.” One of the goons ducked his head, jumping at a shadow. “It’s blasted gloomy in here.”

His partner chuckled. “You never was the brightest.”

“Ouch.”

“Shut up and keep your eyes peeled.” Lanner twitched his head left and right to catch a hint of any magical artifacts. “With any luck, we can be in and out before we have to deal with any more…”

He noticed that the others had gone completely silent. He spun around to find himself completely alone between the bookshelves. He spread his wings and slid backwards, always spinning and circling to keep an eye on all sides. He flexed his talons, ready to rake the eyes from his attacker.

Green fire flashed in the darkness. He brought his talon down in a vicious strike. He met empty air.

“Come out and fight, coward,” he growled. “You can’t change the tide of battle. We are too many. We are too dedicated. We are too skilled.”

Cloven hooves made their way down the side of a bookcase, making nary a sound. Fangs parted.

Lanner increased his pace, touching a wing to the books, his head on a constant swivel. “Come out, come out, wherever you are. You can surprise two fools of ponies, but how will you fair against a griffon Blitzwing?”

Blenkety Blank dropped down from straight overhead.

His fangs bit deep into Lanner’s neck and siphoned magic. His spiny hooves gripped the griffon’s fur and feathers as it screamed, writhed, rolled. A talon found his neck and squeezed, and he was forced to let go. He was thrown against the wall, where he felt a transparent wing fold beneath the impact.

The griffon roared and charged. A talon racked across his carapace, leaving shallow scratched against the matte black. Lanner pecked with his beak, but found much the same result. He plucked Blank off of the floor and threw him once more.

Blankety landed against the side of the magic mirror portal. The mirror rattled within the assembly. The mirror image to Sunset Shimmer’s diary fell from its perch and landed atop the changeling’s head.

A blackened feather fell from Lanner’s wing. “Bingo.”

Blankety scrambled to his feet, but was caught up in Lanner’s good talon. The griffon hissed in his face. “Where did you happen to put the others? I hope you didn’t go an slay them—”

Blankety’s body burst into green flames. Lanner yowled and dropped him. The changeling skittered into the shadows before the griffon could do more than grunt in surprise.

“Coward!” Lanner gripped the sides of the portal’s enclosing stand. He tore away the additions Twilight Sparkle had added to the mirror’s frame. It fell towards him, silent and cold, the magic drained from its surface. It was heavy; more than he could carry midflight alone. He had to find the two morons, and then make sure Hurricane had the Grimoire Alicorn.

And, perhaps, get a little revenge on the resident changeling.

***

Hurricane stood before the shattered stained-glass window. The wind ruffled her mane and feathers, chilling her bones. Her ears twitched towards a sound behind her. The crinkle of glass. A spin of her body and a sweep of her wings sent blades flying at the source of the sound.

Like before, they thudded deep into an overturned table. She cursed to herself. There were only twenty-four blades left. Enough to slay anything… if she could only hit it.

Time Turner shouted, and Daring took it as the signal to charge. They pushed the table along the floor, over the glass, intending to repeat their earlier success with injuring Hurricane with a table. Not this time.

Hurricane leapt onto the edge of the table and jerked her wings downward, sending two blades to either side. One blade thudded into a book Daring was carrying, but the other grazed her hind leg. Time’s book-shield failed him entirely, allowing one knife to stab him in the left foreleg, and the other to impact his hip. Hurricane snarled at the loss of four more blades and flapped her wings, jumping high into the air. The wind carried her to the ceiling, where she hovered overhead.

Daring raised her gauntlet and scanned the air. She stuck her tongue out of the side of her mouth, trying to find her target. The shadows were too deep, and the wind from the window was too loud. “Can’t seem to get a—Horseapples!”

The first wingblade from above cut into her wing, but Time was able to pull her out of the range of the other four. “Where in Tartarus does she get these things?”

“Straight out of her—” Daring Do cringed as her whole body shuddered from the pain in her wing. “Ow.”

“Blast. There’s really nothing we can do about her…” Time and Daring raced back to the pile of books and huddled beside it. “Blast. Where is Care? Where is Velvet?”

“I’d take Spike at this point.” Daring Do brushed her grayscale mane from her eyes. Her teeth clacked together as she pointed skyward. “Here she comes!”

Hurricane swooped down and tossed a wingblade their way. Time ducked and allowed it to zing harmlessly over his head, while Daring ran for the nearest shelf. She leaned her back against it and held her gauntlet at the ready, waiting for the next moment Hurricane appeared.

Something clattered against the ground.

Daring Do lifted her head. She caught a glimpse of Hurricane before she disappeared back into the shadows.

Time looked down. A small, rounded object bumped against his hoof. He eyed it with confusion, then with a growing panic. He pushed himself away from the books. “Whickering stallions—!”

The grenade detonated in his face. The smoke obscured anything else.

Daring Do’s heart shattered. “No! Time! Time!”

Hurricane looped down to view the damage and see if there was anything left to finish off. She hovered above the wispy cloud and scanned for any sign of Daring.

Daring Do leaped out of cover, pointed the hook at Hurricane, and let it fly. It tore its way through the muscle and tendons of the assassin’s left wing. Daring yanked it tight, and found it stuck fast.

Hurricane howled, flapping her right wing as vigorously as she could, trying to pull free of the hook. Blood leaked from the wound, standing stark against her sky-blue feathers. Another jerk on the chain from Daring brought the scarred mare to the ground.

As Hurricane staggered to her feet, she saw her magic shield flicker. The armor couldn’t take the force from the grappling hook’s blow. It was overwhelmed. It was fading.

Daring Do ran towards the mare, her hooves pounding the floor in anticipation of doing the same to her enemy’s head. A swinging right hook collided with Hurricane’s temple, followed by a left uppercut that drew blood from her mouth. The next attack was halted by the assassin’s hoof, and further blows were stalled by a fierce head-butt.

Hurricane gathered the chain and looped it around Daring’s neck. A furious jerk brought the noose tight, squeezing the life from her throat. Hurricane held on tight, dragging Daring Do backwards, towards the open window. She panted as her opponent squirmed. “A pegasus that cannot fly… is dead already.”

Daring Do gargled a response.

The scarred mare leaned out the window. Her mane whipped across her eyes, but it could not obscure the ground many stories below. She spat blood onto the street. “Take comfort. You and your friend will not be separated for long.”

Daring bit Hurricane’s hoof. She clamped down as much as her jaw muscles could stand it. Hurricane swung her around and smashed her nose against the window sill. With a huff of effort, the assassin flung her out into the open air.

Hurricane watched Daring fall. She put a hoof on the ledge to rest, to catch her breath. The sound of chains scraping against crystal caught her attention.

She looked at the hook embedded in her wing, which was attached to the chain, which was attached to the mare she’d just defenestrated. “Rut.”

The chain pulled tight. Hurricane’s stomach hit the sill first, before she was pulled over the edge by her own momentum. She couldn’t fly in her condition—there was no way to even move her left wing—but maybe she could break her fall. She caught a draft with her right wing, which managed to adjust her course.

She saw a crystalline outcropping in the side of the castle. It almost looked like a tree branch. It would hold. A flap carried her over it, while Daring fell to the far side. The outcropping caught the middle of the chain. Hurricane was in freefall for an instant, and then an intense pain grabbed at her flesh. The bone strained, and the muscles screamed, but her descent was halted.

She saw Daring Do swinging towards her, murder in her eyes.

***

Care found herself engaged in a war of attrition. Zephyr had her beat pound-for-pound, so a straight-up brawl was out of the question. Size was also a factor; she had more surface area she could strike, but the close quarters meant that he could hit her by doing something as simple as throwing himself against the wall. His muscles shrugged off her kicks like she was beating a brick wall.

And his punches? Her bleeding lip spoke for itself.

Every time she jumped back to launch a fireball at him, he would just leap after her, his wings giving him a push. She couldn’t risk hitting him at point-blank range, not when the fire would just as easily burn her.

He was breathing heavily, and so was she.

She jabbed her horn into his shoulder. It wasn’t sharp enough to pierce, but it was hard enough to bruise. He grunted and swung low. She flipped over his leg and caught the side of his head with a lashing kick.

While he recovered, she edged herself towards the volleygun. She’d seen those things in action. If she got a hold of it, it would end the fight pretty quick. The same thing would happen if he got a grip on it, too.

He charged her. She stepped aside, putting more distance between her and the weapon. She gritted her teeth when she realized he was much closer to it than before. She had to act fast. She hopped up and wrapped her hooves around his neck. She jerked her head left and right, trying to poke his eye with the tip of her horn.

He bit down on the bone. Her eyes widened as he flipped her over using his neck muscles alone. She crashed against the floor, the wind knocked clean out of her.

He held the volleygun in his forelegs, one hoof just touching the trigger. The spear point at the end of the barrel pricked her chest. “Surrender, or I’ll be forced to kill you.”

She moved her forelegs, but the blade dug a little into her skin. She froze. “I’d say the same thing to you.”

His ears lay back against his head. He took in deep breaths as sweat ran down his shoulders. “We’re just trying to make Equestria a better place. Don’t make me hurt you to see that happen. I will.”

“You’re with Hurricane, aren’t you?” Care snarled. “You’re part of her crew of monsters, aren’t you? You helped murder Royal Guards, didn’t you?”

Zephyr’s mouth opened the slightest bit. He sighed. “Like the commander says, there’s always one more—”

A roar greater than a lion’s, deeper than a bear’s, and more dangerous than a manticore’s split the air around Zephyr. He spun around with wide eyes to see a dragon barreling towards him, as tall as a pony and a bit wider. Claws gouged the crystal floor. Smoke billowed from its snout. Its green eyes glowed in the darkness. Its mouth opened in a roar angrier than the last. “Let go of my friend!”

Without a second thought, Zephyr fired the volleygun. The metal ball warped into a disk as it flew through the air, until it crashed against Spike’s chest. With a gasp, the dragon tumbled head over heels, coming to a rest in the midst of the hallway.

“Spike!” Care screeched. She lit her horn with a blaze, flinging as much fire at Zephyr as she could. Flames danced across her forelegs and singed the edge of her mane, while the majority scorched Zephyr’s face. He fell back, holding the volleygun between him and Care. She laid into him with as many punches as she could throw, her chest burning and her heart thundering.

He twitched the volleygun and hit her with the butt end. Stars burst in the back of her eyes, obscuring her vision and throwing her balance for a loop. When she blinked the confusion away, he was standing over her with a hoof poised to crush her throat.

He threw the punch, but it was stopped by a scaly, purple claw. He looked into Spike’s burning eyes as a chill ran through him.

Spike held the hoof tight in his left hand. Black powder was blown across his chest, all around a tiny dent in his armor-like scales. What remained of the volleygun’s projectile clattered to the floor. The dragon growled from deep in his throat and squeezed Zephyr’s hoof. The stallion screamed as pain shot through his foreleg.

Green flames licked at the edges of Spike’s mouth. He raised his right hand and made a tight, shaking fist. “This… is… for… Twilight!”

He struck Zephyr with all of his strength.

Zephyr’s body soared down the hall. It bounced off one wall, then another, before finally sagging to the floor in a misshapen heap.

Care groaned, stretching her back in an arch. She climbed to her hooves and sighed. She leaned against the wall and looked at Zephyr, preparing herself to continue the fight if needed.

Zephyr didn’t move.

Spike didn’t move, either. He didn’t blink. He didn’t breathe.

Care ignored the pain in her muscles to walk up to the dragon. She tilted her head. “Spike? Spike, are you okay?”

Spike trembled. “Oh no.”

“Spike,” Care said. “Spike, easy, it’s—”

Spike raised his hands into the light of her horn. His eyes locked with the red on his purple fingers. He dropped to all fours and ran towards Zephyr. He halted a meter away, choking back a sob. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no…”

When Care caught up with him, she saw that he’d stopped at the edge of the growing pool of blood. One glance at Zephyr’s body told her that he was dead before he hit the first wall. She extinguished her horn to hide the sight. “Spike, it’s—”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He gripped his knees tight. He was taller than Care, bulkier than her, too, but he curled up until he seemed smaller than a mouse. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”

Care placed a hoof on his shoulder. “Spike, it’s alright. Just let it—”

“Don’t touch me!” Spike fell to his back. He crawled over to the wall and huddled down, hiding himself with his blood-covered hands. “Stay away from me! Don’t let me hurt you!”

“Spike, it’s okay.” Care crept towards him, inch by inch. “You’re not going to hurt me. I need your help—”

“Go away!” Tears fell from Spike’s eyes. His words were barely intelligible beneath his cries. “S-stay back! Don’t… don’t touch… don’t touch…”

He hugged himself tight and rocked back and forth. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to…”

Care Carrot closed her eyes and let out a low breath. “It’s gonna be okay, Spike. Just rest.”

She turned away and headed back up the corridor. She picked up the volleygun on her way, slinging it over her shoulder. The mare she’d burnt earlier was curled up in a corner. The injured unicorn lifted her head. “Oh, Creator, just take me now.”

Care grasped the mare by the shoulders and slammed her against the wall. “Where did you come in?”

The mare screeched as the burns on her chest met with Care’s hoof. “What the flying feather—?”

“Where did you come in?” Care shook her before pushing her against the crystal again. “Tell me now!”

“Ground floor!” the mare gasped. “By the throne room!”

Care let her slide to the floor. She set out at a swift march for the staircase, her jaw clenched nearly tight enough to crack a tooth.

***

Grenadier Lanner hefted the mirror onto his back. He kept his wings spread to keep it balanced, but he still needed to step lightly. He growled at the shadows, daring the changeling to burst forth. “What’s the matter? Afraid to break your precious artifact? Afraid you would lose something so irreplaceable?”

A smile touched the tip of his beak. “You’re too late either way. Victory is assured. There is nothing you can do to stop us.”

“P-power tripping, much?” The voice echoed from bookcase to bookcase, coming from everywhere at once. “S-sign of insecurity.”

“So the animal speaks.” Lanner kept to the wall, edging around the bookcases clustered throughout the room. “Very impressive for a mere drone. I thought you were all puppets of that Chrysalis creature.”

There, in the center of three shelves. The two bumbling idiots were bound and gagged; tied up to a pair of chairs. An obvious trap with obvious bait.

“I th-thought all griffons were jerks.” The voiced maintained that same infuriating, ethereal echo. “Haven’t been w-wrong yet.”

“Griffons understand strength.” Lanner crept towards the trap, careful to angle the mirror to ward off attacks from above. “We understand power. We understand that intimidation is the key to keeping our enemies at bay and our allies in line.”

“Y-yeah. Who wants to hang ar-around a p-party pooper?”

Lanner’s pupils expanded in the darkness. His sharp eyes searched for movement of any kind from the sides or on high. “What would you understand? What is your perception of power?”

The grenadier grimaced. “Who do you follow? Chrysalis baked to death in the dry heat of the Badlands years ago. Celestia fell to a humble spear. Twilight crumpled beneath a shower of steel. Even now, the Nightmare drives Luna mad. You are lost, broken, defeated.”

His talon sliced through the captives’ bonds. He set the mirror down gently, allowing them to take up position on the far side. One pegasus moved to grab the frame immediately.

The other leapt on Lanner.

Fangs bit into Lanner’s shoulder. Flames wrapped themselves around the attacking pegasus, adding to the burns on the grenadier’s body. The griffon shouted at the top of his lungs. “Sheerah kroot!”

The pegasus lifted the chair and smashed it against Blankey’s body. The changeling lost his grip.

Lanner’s talon clamped over Blankety’s neck. He lifted the changeling high into the air. The other talon came up, grasped Blank’s horn, and twisted it off. Blankety Blank fell to the ground amidst pained screams.

Lanner tucked the scraggly horn into his belt beside his grenades. “We follow a Master far more powerful than anything ever seen before in Equestria. A true Alpha. A literal god. He lives in dreams, in nightmares. He sees the future—a future with him as the new King of the Universe, and Equestria as his step stool.”

He grabbed Blankety by the top of his head and lifted him to eye-level. “What’s wrong? Words finally fail you?”

He shrugged and cast the limp changeling aside. “Find the other pegasus. We’re getting out of here right n—”

His hind paw crunched against burnt paper. He looked around to see the aftermath of Hurricane’s grenade. A pony was lying in the ash, but that wasn’t what caught his eye. An ancient book, with a cover made from cowhide, sat off to the side, knocked free of some saddlebags by the force of the blast.

He picked it up and read the glossy script on the cover. “Grimoire Alicorn. Excellent. Secondary objective achieved.”

***

Hurricane kicked out with her hind legs and felt something crack. Daring Do swung away, frustration competing with pain in her shout. The assassin looked up. She could climb up to the outcropping, but not with her enemy harassing her the whole way. Killing her was proving to be difficult, and removing the gauntlet from her foreleg was an exercise in suicide. If weight was removed from one end of the chain, the other would simply plummet.

She looked to the metal hook digging into her wing. Her eyes trailed up the chain. Maybe she could work that to her advantage.

Daring Do swung back for another attempted kick, and Hurricane pushed against the wall. While Daring carried on through empty air, the assassin looped around behind her. The flightless pegasus spun around, over and over, but was unable to regain control of her momentum.

Hurricane looped the chain several times around her foreleg. She pulled herself up until there was no weight on her injured wing. A quick glance down brought a prospective escape into view: An open window two stories below. She gripped the hook in her teeth and pulled.

Daring Do got a hold of herself. She rested with her hind legs against the wall. She growled at Hurricane, ready to charge the scarred mare once more. She gave her a double-take when she saw her pulling the hook from her own bloody wing.

A griffon and two pegasi flew out the window overhead, carrying the mirror between them. Daring’s hoof slipped. She swore deeply and darkly. They’d got what they came for.

With one last tug, the hook came free.

Daring felt the chain slack for one brief, terrifying moment. She held onto the chain desperately. She saw Hurricane out of the corner of her eye; cold gray eyes gazed at her with quiet fury.

Hurricane let go of the chain and dropped. A mighty flap of her good wing sent her gliding through the open window and into the kitchen, where she crashed into the table and chairs set up in the middle of the room.

Daring Do screamed. She grasped for the hook, but it was too far out of reach. She spread her wings, but there was no hope of even gliding—not with the pain shooting through every inch of her fairy strings. On a whim, she spun the wheel on the gauntlet. The chain retracted quickly, but not quite quickly enough. She fell far beyond any hope of looping it around the outcropping. The ground approached fast.

Daring Do thought faster.

A stained glass window stood out against the blue crystal. Daring took aim and fired the grappling hook. It zipped upwards and smashed its way through one pane of glass. A moment later, the hook grabbed onto the iron holding the window together. The chain came taut.

Daring Do crashed against the side of the castle. She hung by her foreleg, which had become dislocated with that last yank. Before her muscles got any bright ideas about coming apart, she grasped it with her other leg and hauled herself up.

She hung still, catching her breath, not allowing herself to think about what had just happened. Not allowing herself to think about what might come next.

***

Hurricane picked herself up. She shook wood splinters from her body and kicked the fragments of chair and table aside. A lesser mare would have a broken neck, or a crushed skull, or at the least a broken leg.

Hurricane was not a lesser mare. She was the perfect union of pegasus and earth pony.

She couldn’t help a slight limp, and her left wing hung useless at her side, but she walked out of the kitchen. She would meet up with her fellow soldiers downstairs and they would escape in the wagon parked a block away from the castle. The mirror was recovered. No doubt Zephyr would see to the Grimoire Alicorn’s destruction.

As she neared the ground floor, she could hear hints of conversation. The rear guard was getting sloppy. She could hear them all the way from—

“Just set them beside the thrones. Yeah, that’s it, rest them against it. We can start going up, see how Spike’s doing.”

That wasn’t the voice of either of her troops. Hurricane snarled. She took the steps two at a time, her limp ignored, her wing forgotten. Prisoners were unacceptable. They either needed to be freed, or dealt with permanently. She counted out the remaining wingblades in her right wing’s feathers: Five. Barely enough to deal with a single pony on the move. Not ideal when grounded.

She tilted her head to see around a corner. Four ponies. Two of them tied up and leaning against the throne with a purple, crystalline star. The others were unicorns, standing around the table that became the map of Equestria. She’d fought the mare before; she’d rescued Twilight Sparkle just before the killing blow.

Hurricane narrowed her eyes and pulled her wing back. “Not this time.”

“I don’t know, darling,” Night Light said. He turned to the hallway and stifled a yawn. “Might just be easier to knock them unconscious and darn the brain dam—”

The glint of metal shocked him into silence. The blade humming through the air, straight towards his wife, shocked him into action. He jumped at her and pushed her to the ground. The blade found its home in his stomach.

The earth pony mare lifted her head. “Hurricane! We’re over here—!”

Blade to the neck. Dead.

“Oh Creator!” The unicorn stallion tried to shuffle behind Twilight Sparkle’s throne. “She’s gone mad—!”

Blade between the eyes. Dead.

Twilight Velvet dragged her husband to the far side of the crystal table. She tucked him away, right next to Applejack’s throne. “Oh no. Stay with me, Night. Stay with me.”

Night Light smiled. He cocked his eyebrow and looked to his wounded belly. “You know, it actually doesn’t look too bad.”

He passed out from the pain soon after. Twilight Velvet tore the sleeve off his striped pajamas and wrapped it around his torso, careful to make it especially tight around the blade. She kissed him on the cheek.

The clomp of hooves echoed through the throne room. Twilight Velvet poked her head over the top of the table. A blade ricocheted off of the crystal, causing her to duck. She lit her horn and encased herself in a bubble of magic. “Same old tricks, huh, Hurricane?”

“They worked before. Often.” Hurricane walked around the edge of the circle of thrones. “They will work again.”

Velvet moved in concert with her, always keeping the table between them. “Like that neat trick you’ve played on Equestria. The one where you pretend to actually be competent.”

Hurricane shook her head, her cold, gray eyes fixed on the darkened map. “If thou seekest to injure my pride, thou must dig a great deal deeper.”

“So when are you actually going to do something that matters?” Velvet felt her hoof brush against chilled metal. She encased the dropped wingblade in her magic grasp and held it at the ready. “Something besides mildly inconveniencing immortals. When are you going to wake up and realize that you’re on the losing side?”

“I have lived my entire life on the losing side.” Hurricane looked to her wing. One blade left. “It builds character.”

“Terrible character.” Twilight Velvet laid her ears back against her scalp. She had to time it perfectly. “I’ve been wondering, are you a crazy from the past, or just completely nuts?”

“My story is my own to tell to whom I wish.” Hurricane drew her wing back. “Thou art not on the short list.”

Twilight Velvet kept her voice clear and even, hiding the fact that she was drawing strength to her limbs. “I guess they’ll have to knock it out of you in the Canterlot prisons.”

Velvet jumped up and let the wingblade fly, guided along its warpath by her magic. Hurricane flapped her wing, shooting off her knife at the same millisecond. The blades passed each other by over the top of the table.

Twilight Velvet fell to the side, letting out a screech as the steel dug into her shoulder. Hurricane snarled as a deep gash appeared along her side. She snorted steam and jumped clean over the table. Velvet raised her hooves, but was unprepared for Hurricane to ram her entire body into her chest. The two went airborne, crashing down on the map.

Light flashed all around. The gemstones adorning the thrones glowed bright, lines snaked through the floor, and the map itself sparked into existence. Velvet pushed Hurricane off of her and looked down at a miniature, illusive Equestria.

Hurricane smashed a hoof into the side of Velvet’s head. The unicorn retaliated with a flick of her horn, driving the assassin face-first into the glistening Fillydelphia marker. A kick with her hind leg caught Velvet in the knee—something popped.

The scarred mare grasped the sides of Velvet’s head and used her own weight against her. Griffonstone vanished beneath their bodies. They rolled together, crushing Manehattan and phasing through the Smokey Mountains. A furious downward strike cut Velvet’s cheek, while a frenzied bite tore into Hurricane’s ear.

A twisted limb drew a shout from Velvet. Hurricane climbed on top of her, holding her down with all her might. The assassin pushed Velvet’s head against the Badlands, and only let go long enough to smash her hooves into the unicorn’s face. She hit her again, and again, and again, and again.

Velvet’s legs fell limp to either side. Her cheeks swelled up around her mouth. A broken tooth fell from between her lips. She glared up at Hurricane, just in time to see the hooves come down one last time.

Hurricane raised herself to her hind legs. She wrapped her forelegs around Velvet’s head and lifted her up. She took a solid stance, her good wing spread. One hoof went to the left side of the unicorn’s head, while the other reached across. The assassin gritted her teeth and prepared to twist.

“Put her down!”

She stopped. She flicked her ear backward.

“Put her down.” Care Carrot stood at the edge of the thrones, her volleygun trained right on the scarred mare’s back. “Drop her or I’ll shoot!”

Hurricane put her forelegs to the sides and let Velvet collapse to the map’s surface. She turned around slowly, moving her right wing to show that there were no wingblades hidden among the feathers. Dropping to her four hooves, she narrowed her eyes at the weapon.

“You stay right there.” Care shifted her grip, jiggling the trigger. “Stay right where you are, understand? You aren’t escaping this time. You aren’t getting away with horseapples!”

Hurricane stared down the barrel of the volleygun. Her ear twitched. “I do not believe thou understands how those work.”

“I know well enough,” Care said, breathless. “I know that if I pull this switch, you’re not alive anymore. And… and everypony’s happier for it!” Her shoulders shook. “As a matter of fact, I should probably just forget about taking you in and shoot you now. Put you out of everypony’s misery. Pay you back for all the things you’ve done. End whatever sick crusade you’re on. Blow you right away. Pop. Done. No more Hurricane.”

Hurricane smirked. “If that be thy vision of justice, then shoot me, thou dastard.”

“Dastard?” Care snarled. “Dastard this!”

An empty click pattered around the room. Care looked down at her volleygun with eyes wide.

Hurricane leaped over her head and came down with her good wing. She slammed into the back of Care’s neck, dropping the captain instantly. A strong blow bashed Care’s chin against the floor.

The doors slammed open. Pegasus guards tromped into the castle in rows of five. They took to the air and ran along the ground, their spears searching for a foe. Hurricane backed away from the thrones before turning to gallop for the open window. She dove through into the darkness.

Royal Guards filled the castle, searching for any sign of danger or injury. One helped Care to her feet. She nestled into Applejack’s throne, just then noticing the pain in her forelegs from the burns, the ache in her muscles from her tussle with Zephyr, and the chipped bone in her chin.

Twilight Velvet opened her eyes. She met Care’s gaze. They stared at each other for a long moment. Too long.

“Care…” Velvet said. “Thanks.”

Care blinked back tears and nodded. Medics came in and tied Night Light to a stretcher, followed by Twilight Velvet. Sheets were draped over the two intruders that had died by Hurricane’s hoof. Shouts came from the upper levels of the castle: “I found another!” “This one’s alive!” “Somebody go outside and lower her to the ground!”

She sighed and waited for her turn to get treated.

Author's Note

This is now, officially, my longest story. We're approaching the home stretch, so get ready for a bumpy ride.

Hero

Corona rested on Andean’s bed, fast asleep. She had stayed up through the battle to keep her sister safe. Now that the danger had passed, she was taking a well-earned rest. Andean brushed his eldest daughter’s head feathers, which contained the slightest hint of red at the tips. A mark of power yet to be unleashed.

He smiled. Across the room, in a separate hospital bed, his youngest daughter devoured a meal of fish and chips. She had been promised ice cream, and had commanded the nurse to bring enough for all three of them.

Andean was barely in a position to eat. He looked down at his heavily bandaged stomach and grimaced. There was no getting around it; he was grounded for a good, long time, even with ambrosia’s healing power. Even Stella, whose cancer had been peeled from her bones by unicorn magic, would heal sooner than he.

Then would begin a different sort of recovery. He cocked his ear and heard Captain Barbary of the Blitzwings in conversation with Celestia’s Captain of the Guard, Stonewall. A comment brought laughter to the both of them. They had fought together, and now found themselves brothers in arms. As had all the surviving Blitzwings and Cloudsdale defenders.

Andean focused on the warm, fuzzy sensation of his daughter’s feathers. It was calming. It was uncomplicated. It was a symbol of all that was good in the world.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt that he could trust Luna. He knew that Celestia was wise enough to lead a country consistently for a millennium. Twilight Sparkle ate and breathed friendship. Cadence maintained a picture of comprehending all things love.

They were still dangerous, like unfired volleyguns. Aimed and activated by those behind the trigger. If they were corrupted, it would be the end of all things. If they were mistaken, it would be the end of civilization. If they were mislead, it would mean the death of so many.

Andean yet had much to ponder.

An earth pony walked in, carrying a tray on her back. “Hello, Princess Stella! Did you enjoy your food?”

“Delicious!” Stella chirped in the griffon tongue. Switching to Equish, she repeated, “It was delightful, Miss Wishes.”

Andean’s head snapped to the nurse. Did she have wings? No, he wasn’t mistaken; it was indeed an earth pony.

He cleared his throat and spoke in a small voice. “Excuse me, ma’am, but what is your name?”

“Flower Wishes, Your Grace,” the pony said. She moved a bowl off her plate and passed it to Stella. “Eat up, dear!”

“Vanilla!” Stella dove into the dessert, making little squeaks of joy.

Andean patted Corona to rouse her. “Would you like some ice cream, Corona?”

Corona blinked awake and yawned. “Yes, Father. What kind?”

“I came prepared,” Flower Wishes said. She presented several bowls of various colors. “I have enough chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry for you to take your pick. They just came by from the Fillydelphia relief workers.”

“Strawberry!” Corona raised a fist. “The only ice cream fit for a princess!”

“’Nilla rules!” Stella nodded her head decisively before returning to her treat wholeheartedly.

Flower Wishes smiled at Andean. “I suspect you’re the chocoholic, Your Grace?”

“My wife was the chocolate aficionado. Life with her affected my palate.” Andean accepted the bowl, as well as the tiny spoon inside it. He tried to grasp the little thing with the tips of his talons, then thought better of it.

He tilted his head to look Flower Wishes in the eye. “Madam, do you know somepony named Ribbon Wishes? Perhaps a sister, or someone who works here?”

Flower Wishes’ face twisted in confusion. She tilted her eyes upwards and to the left. “Mm. No. No, there’s nopony with that name who works here. There’s just me. There aren’t a whole lot of Wishes in the world, so if you’re looking for her, she’ll turn up sooner or later.”

“I see.” Andean clicked his beak. “Thank you for the assistance. And the ice cream.”

“My pleasure, Your Grace.” She trotted through the door to bring ice cream to more patients. “You kids have fun!”

Corona licked a bit of strawberry from the tip of her beak. “Who is Ribbon Wishes, Father?”

“The one who saved me from the storm.” Andean stuck his tongue out and collected nearly all the ice cream in a single lick. Brain freeze was sure to follow. “She appeared first as a Blitzwing warrior, then as a female pony. Naturally, I owe her a debt, but I am also wary as to her purpose.” He tapped Corona on the beak. “And her means of shape-changing.”

“She’s a good changeling!” Stella said. “Like Blankie!”

Andean laughed. “It would not surprise me if Celestia had other benevolent changelings hidden away. Perhaps it is a question to ask her when she is well. And in a sharing mood.”

As Stella and Corona finished their food, he mused to himself. “As unlikely an occurrence as any.”

***

Twilight Sparkle stood in the middle of the Dream’s Keep, surrounded by four chairs that she had carried to the tower. The blood had been cleaned from the floor, the broken glass swept away, and the cracked balcony boarded off. Even the mirrors had been removed for polishing and cleaning. The Dream’s Keep found itself just as secluded and private as it always was, plus some.

Perfect for a meeting between the four Princesses of Equestria.

Twilight mentally ran over her points. They were carefully chosen and spaced out for maximum impact, with room for improvisation. If losing her voice had one boon, it was that she had to be even more careful—even more certain—of what she wanted to say.

She snorted at the very thought that she could put a positive spin on her injuries.

“Twilight?”

Twilight lifted one ear, then the other. She turned her head and wrinkled her brow. The voice was one she’d been longing to hear, but had nearly given up hope on. She gave her scarf a quick tug to make sure it covered her scar.

Celestia walked slowly across the room, taking deliberate steps. As Twilight watched, she could see specific moments where Celestia’s muscles just weren’t as strong as they needed to be. A stumble here, an unsure footing there, a quick wince across the face.

Twilight met her halfway and nuzzled her head against Celestia’s neck.

“Twilight, my most faithful student.” Celestia closed her eyes and rested her chin on Twilight’s head. “No longer a student, yet just as faithful.”

She pulled away and looked down upon her friend. “I wish so much that this could be a meeting among friends, instead of a council of rulers.”

Twilight Sparkle took out her notepad and scribbled with the pen in her mouth. There is time for that later. Sky Wishes is putting together lunch with Natter.

Celestia gave her a rueful smirk. “The only two staff members who didn’t take the forced holiday. Go figure. I’ve been trying to pair them off for years and they finally do it while I’m away.”

Twilight pouted and lifted an eyebrow.

“You’ll have to forgive an old princess taking the occasion to meddle.” Celestia lowered herself laboriously into a chair. She rested for a long breath. “Luna tells me you found the Grimoire Alicorn. Have you read it?”

Twilight frowned. Cover to cover.

Celestia lowered her head. “I trust you with this, Twilight. I admit that I would rather have the book destroyed, but I understand how you feel about it. I felt much the same way. It’s why I put it in the archives, after all.”

“I also agree with Twilight!” Cadence trotted into the room, with Luna hot on her heels. “We’re Equestrians. We don’t burn books. That’s the kind of stuff Sombra did.”

Luna lidded her eyes. “Which you can read all about in his book of dark magic.”

“Manta Ray Books still publish Starlight’s ideologies,” Celestia said. “Even after Miss Glimmer publicly renounced them.”

Luna settled into the chair across from Celestia. “Starlight Glimmer didn’t publish her formula for removing cutie marks. We wouldn’t let her. The same with Twilight’s research on how Tirek eats magic. Should we now turn around and let them be published because of freedom of the press?”

Cadence rolled her eyes. “Twilight, do you want to publish those findings where a homicidal maniac might see them?”

Twilight scowled. Way to strawman the argument.

“I’m making a point.” Cadence tapped her hoof. “Twilight isn’t publishing her findings because of their potential extremely dangerous uses. But she also isn’t publishing Sombra’s book. She’s keeping it safe and using its knowledge for good.”

“I’m unconcerned with the knowledge and what Twilight can do with it.” Luna folded her wings across her back. “We have covered that much already. I merely find the tome itself distasteful and disconcerting.”

Celestia rubbed her forehead. “Then please excuse me for encouraging the digression. I was confused about the purpose of the discussion. We have more important things to talk about.”

“Wait. Hold up.” Cadence held a wing level with the ground. “You don’t like the book because of what it says about you.”

Luna narrowed her eyes. She angled herself away from Cadence. “My sister’s and my origins are an unfortunate matter with no available remedy. So yes, any reminder of that is taxing on my conscience.”

Cadence huffed. “So when are we going to make it public that you guys were artificially augmented?”

“Never,” Celestia said. “A lot of truths have been built on that lie. If the lie were to vanish, I’m scared of what could happen. Terrified.”

Cadence scrunched her mouth like she’d caught a bad smell. “What happened to ‘the truth will set you free’?”

“That is true.” Celestia rubbed her scar and grimaced. “It’s true if you start with the truth. And continue in the truth. And end with the truth. This lie was started before I was even born, Cadence. It’s the foundation of so much. To dispel it now is to overthrow years of peace and security.”

“We don’t have to dispel it.” Cadence looked to Twilight. “The truth is that the prophecy was fulfilled, just later than we thought. Twilight and I—”

“Would suddenly have the weight of the entire kingdom on your shoulders.” Celestia flapped a wing. “It’s stupid to make you two the high princesses during such a volatile time. Even so, the ponies would demand it. They would march to Canterlot and staple you to the thrones if they thought you were the ‘true’ alicorns.”

Luna caught Cadence’s eye. “We have little assurance that either of you are the prophesied ones. Starswirl specifically stated that they would rise from humble beginnings. Something a member of the Sparkle family cannot exactly claim.”

Twilight fidgeted with her pencil. She shrugged.

Cadence looked across to Twilight with a frown. She turned away. “I don’t enjoy living in a kingdom built on a lie.”

“Now is not the time to vanquish falsehoods,” Celestia said. “Now is the time to stand together and make Equestria secure.”

Cadence swallowed the bile in her throat. “Love does not lie.”

Luna barked a laugh. “No, but ponies do. And we are all very much ponies.”

“Aunt Luna,” Cadence said, gritting her teeth, “have I mentioned lately how deeply I enjoy your company?”

“Nay, thou hast been silent.” Luna wiggled her eyebrows. When she saw the frowns on each of their faces, she sighed. “But really, I have a question that has been lying heavily on my mind…”

She crossed her forelegs on the chair. “Celestia, when were you going to tell us?”

Celestia leaned back. She looked from one pony to the next. She shut her eyes and bowed her head, letting her wings rest gently against the chair back. “I wasn’t going to.”

Cadence took in a quick breath. Luna gripped her seat until it cracked. Twilight blinked away the sting of tears.

Celestia sucked in a breath. “I wasn’t going to tell you, because I thought Hurricane was lost forever. The events held no bearing on you, Cadence. They would bring undue stress to you, Luna. They would confuse and frighten you, Twilight. They were terrible for me to even think about, and by then I was already engrained into the Equestrian mind as a savior and divine protector. How could I abandon them, even for the truth, when they needed me so badly?”

Cadence flicked her tail. “You didn’t need to abandon them. You just had to make it right. Now, we’re all in deep trouble.”

Twilight wrote carefully.

“Undue stress?” Luna leaned forward. “You were afraid I would return to my villainous ways?”

Celestia opened her mouth to speak. When nothing came out, she nodded silently.

Luna rocked on her seat. “I wish I could say that you were wrong to think so.”

“Wait, what?” Cadence got to her hooves. “You fell to the Nightmare?”

“Nearly, but Twilight pulled me back—”

“When was I going to be told this?” Cadence stomped a hoof. “When was I going to be told any of this?”

“Cadence,” Celestia said, “please calm down. The danger is over for the moment.”

“I have just had my entire worldview changed,” Cadence snapped. “You don’t get to tell me to calm down—”

Twilight’s ear-splitting whistle cut her off. She lifted a page from her notebook and waved it at Cadence.

Princess Cadenza took the note. Twilight motioned to her mouth. Cadence nodded and read aloud.

“‘It’s true that this lie cannot go on existing, but it’s also true that, if handled clumsily, it could hurt a lot of ponies. The key, I think, is to ease Equestria into the truth. Bit by bit, fact by fact. We need to make a plan about how we are going to share the truth with Equestria, to shed light on the dark places. Lies are what brought us to this point; let’s not fall into the same trap.’”

Cadence lowered the page and tilted her head. “‘They deserve to know.’”

Twilight nodded, then looked to Celestia.

Princess Celestia wrinkled her forehead. She shook her head with tiny, hesitant movements. “Is that wisdom I hear? It’s been so long, I forgot the sound of it.”

Luna winked at Twilight. “That’s our Twilight Sparkle. Making plans and taking names.”

Celestia looked to Cadence, let out a harsh puff of air, and turned away. “Are we ready to move on to the next problem?”

“They’re issues, not problems.” Cadence took her seat with a grumble. “Problems have solutions.”

Twilight frowned at Cadence.

Cadenza raised her eyebrows. She bowed her head and folded her hooves. “I’m sorry. Not helping.”

Luna felt a shiver run down her spine. “Shall we discuss your encounter with the Dark Master of the Unseelie Court?”

“It might be best.” Celestia rested the side of her head on her hoof. “Twilight, Cadence, are you two familiar with tales of the First Age?”

Twilight Sparkle shook her head. She scribbled a thought. The earliest days of history are shrouded in mystery. Not much writing survives from it.

“It’s all word of mouth,” Cadence added. “And nopony can agree on anything. Nothing’s changed in that regard, but especially about then.”

“Exactly. Word of mouth. Rumors. Legends. Myths.” Celestia leaned back and stared at the small bell hanging in the middle of the room. “Some of the oldest stories describe a race of fair folk, far more powerful and splendid than anything mortals are capable of. These beings came down to earth from the stars and conquered the world. They ruled it with an iron fist for many years, with no one to oppose them.”

“Naturally, something happened,” Cadence said. “Something which explained to the early ponies how society came to be. Otherwise it wouldn’t be a myth.”

“Of course.” Celestia brought her hooves together. “The oppression of one of the fair folk, the Lord of the Sky, grew too cruel to stand. The Creator heard the cry of the people, and gave to them six gifts. They used these gifts to banish the Lord of the Sky and his followers to the Abyss for all eternity.”

“Six gifts.” Luna smiled. “And the story comes full circle.”

“Not quite.” Celestia tapped her hoof. “In the Second Age, in the years before the Unification, this story was heavily discredited by unicorn historians. They claimed it was heresy.”

“Heresy?” Cadence snorted. “What would they consider heretical about the Creator giving ponies the means to fight off evil?”

“He didn’t give them to the ponies.” Celestia said. “According to the oldest versions of the myth, he gave them to the changelings.”

Cadence blinked. She stared at the floor. Her mouth moved without sound.

Twilight Sparkle passed a note. So, creatures besides ponies can use the Elements of Harmony?

“That is what the story implies,” Celestia said, “and that was a thought that the Second-Age scholars did not wish to promote.”

Why?

“As much as it pains us to admit…” Luna stretched a wing out to touch Twilight’s back. “Ponies were not a kind species in the earliest days. Especially those days before the unification. There is a reason we fell to the plague of the windigos.”

Twilight Sparkle hugged herself. I feel sick.

“The existence of the being I encountered…” Celestia ground her teeth lightly. “It validates at least a portion of that particular myth. It is clear to me that our foe, as of now, is the Unseelie Court of Fae. The ones who rejected their rightful place in the universe to become something dark and dreadful.”

They are not alone.

The others turned to Twilight as she shuffled through her bag of notes. She pulled out a particular point and passed it around. Through my talks with Skyhook and Daring, it is obvious that they encountered a siren in the depths of the Crystal Mines.

Luna swallowed. “What was their evidence?”

She sang to place Skyhook's soldiers under a thrall. He was the only one unaffected. He played along until he found the source of the spell, then acted to silence it. He failed, and she got away. She had a glistening magical necklace. It sounds a lot like Adagio, Aria, and Sonata, if you ask me.

Cadence ran a hoof through her hair, brushing it in an attempt to bring herself some minute comfort. “Do we have evidence to suggest she was working with the Unsilly?”

“Unseelie,” Celestia said.

“Whatever.”

Not much. Twilight shrugged. The timing is too good to be a coincidence, though.

She had the next page ready. Which leads me to the question of the hour: Why was Skyhook immune?

She stood up and paced around the chair, thinking it over. After a moment, she handed out a new sheet. When we were in the other world, facing the Dazzlings, all of us were immune to the effects of their song. The other Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Applejack, Rarity—and of course Sunset, Spike, and I. We had the hypothesis at the time that this was because of our shared connection to Equestrian magic. I am beginning to believe that this theory is flawed.

She lifted her head and flicked her tail. Or, more accurately, the theory is not specific enough as to what type of magic is involved.

Cadence squinted. “You think Skyhook has an affinity for an Element?”

Possibly. Twilight Sparkle wrote hastily. Maybe. If so, it means that Spike was immune because he also has an affinity towards an Element. We could fairly accurately decipher potential bearers of the Elements based on whether they can be enthralled by the sirens’ song or not.

“It’s an interesting thought.” Celestia chewed her lip. “But it assumes that other creatures are drawn to the Elements even when the current Bearers are still in operation.”

“Or they’re backups,” Cadence said. “There to replace a fallen Bearer in the case of an emergency.”

Luna smirked ruefully. “It still amazes me how little we understand these little baubles.”

It’s in an inverse proportion to how much we rely on them. Twilight Sparkle hopped back into her chair. Since he’s been assigned to my personal guard, I’ll keep a close watch on Skyhook. Spike, too. I’ll study them and see what comes up.

“Thank you, Twilight.” Celestia put her front legs on the floor. “If that was all we wished to talk about, I think I shall head to bed—”

“Sister,” Luna said.

Celestia froze, pain on her face.

“There is yet one more matter.” Luna tilted her head to Cadence. “And yes, it is far more a problem than an issue.”

“Fair enough,” Cadence said.

“The matter of who is to raise the sun—” Luna set her jaw. “—now that you cannot.”

Celestia’s eyes were wide, her pupils expanded. Her mouth popped. “I—I was hoping one of you would take over, I suppose.”

“Twilight is not yet nearly as strong as us,” Luna said. “Cadence is untrained and would need assistance. I can manage, but it is taxing on me, as it was on you for a thousand years.”

Celestia gritted her teeth. “You cannot be suggesting what I think you are.”

“In time…” Luna crossed her forelegs and nodded. “We give the sun back to the people.”

Celestia sucked in air. “I won’t allow it.”

“Sister, sister, sister!” Luna pointed with her pinion feathers. “This very thing is why striking you down was so very devastating to the country! Without you, there is no viable substitute. Without you, there is no Equestria as we know it. You have your hooves in everything and it came apart within weeks.”

Celestia stood up with her wings spread and her voice loud. “Because without me, everything returns to the old days! The days of fear and anger! Of monsters around every corner and fools leading the people! Of petty squabbles over crops and weather and whether the sun shall rise or not! The four of us have a responsibility to make sure that does not come to pass!”

She let out a loud breath and let her wings fall slack. “That is why I took control of the sun. To put an end to the mindlessness of it all. To give it back… it scares me.”

The hair along her back prickled. She shuddered and lowered her head. “I’m scared. For the first time in a long time, I am well and truly terrified of what’s to come.”

Twilight brushed up against her side. Celestia reached her foreleg around her former student.

“It is a matter of necessity, Celestia,” Luna said. “If we four fall, or lie unable to touch the celestial objects, it leaves them open to corruption. What if Ahuizotl, or this ‘Lord of the Sky,’ gain the power to move the sun and moon? We must have ponies ready to take up this solemn duty. Good ponies, with full knowledge of the responsibility they face.”

Celestia rested her chin on Twilight’s head for the second time that day. “I know.”

Cadence sucked in her cheek. “Maybe we can offer it as a course to the most promising students of the School for Gifted Unicorns? Look for ponies who exhibit Element-like behavior? Who have good values and a sense of right-standing?”

“I cannot read minds,” Celestia said.

“No, but we can read ponies.” Cadence gave the others a halfhearted smile. “Even your darkest failures have a spark of light in them. Luna, Sunset… they turned out okay in the end.”

Luna brushed her mane over her shoulder. “We just have to practice on your openness and willingness to share information. That is, shall we say, pretty darn important right about now.”

Celestia touched the scar on her chest. She gazed at it with weak eyes. She heaved a sigh which reached from her mouth to her hooves. “I find myself unable to argue. You speak the truth… and that’s becoming a theme, I sense.”

Cadence rubbed her forehead. She blew a raspberry and pushed her chair back. “I think that’s enough royal business for one day. Let’s do lunch. Life’s easier when you’re eating.”

Luna snorted. “Which is why she has yet to lose the pounds gained during her second pregnancy.”

Cadence sent her a fiery grin. “Can it, string bean, I’m still the hottest princess in the land.”

“Verily, I hath not thy shapeliness,” Luna said with a quirked eyebrow, “but my bod hath become far more muscular and fit, and thus desirable.”

Cadence scowled. “You’re not even trying to be period-correct anymore, are you?”

“Nay.” Luna chuckled. “Not so long as it goads you on.”

Celestia smiled as she watched her sister and niece walk down the staircase. She looked to Twilight. “You see? They really do love each other.”

Twilight laughed silently. She rested her head against Celestia’s shoulder and walked by her side. They descended the stairwell, one hoof step at a time.

***

Daring Do packed her bags with her reference books, her lab materials, and her gear. She snuck Time’s time-stop gauntlet into the bottom of her suitcase. Before long, she had cleared all her stuff out of her guest room.

She walked down the hallways and stairways of the castle. The crystal glistened soft blue all around her. Outside the windows, snow fell in light flurries. A good feeling tugged at the corner of her mouth.

Blankety Blank lugged his suitcase through the throne room. He popped the wheels out to give himself an easier time. He waved to Daring. “Hi.”

“Hay, Blank.” Daring Do tipped her helmet. “I didn’t see you at the funeral.”

“I was there.” Blankety faced forward and walked towards the stairs. “Hidden. I p-payed my respects.”

“Oh. Good.” Daring Do rubbed an ache in her left wing. “I was afraid you wouldn’t feel welcome or something.”

“I’m not welcome. B-by default.” Blank tilted his head. “It doesn’t stop me, though.”

Daring checked her watch. Perfect timing. “I wanted to ask you something. Feel like taking on a job?”

“S-so soon?” Blankety laughed. “It hardly feels like this adventure is over.”

“It never ends, buddy.” Daring unrolled a scroll from her chest pocket. It depicted a curved knife with etchings along the blade. “Before I got roped into this debacle, I was hot on the trail of this doohickey. A knife that was used in the First Age for pony sacrifice. The idea is to get our hooves on it before Ahuizotl does.”

“Y-you looking for a second?”

“More like a dozenth. I’ve got a team working on it already.” She let a soft smile touch her lips. “But… I think having a second Knight of Harmony on the job would be awesome. Especially if it’s you. You’ve got the right stuff, Blank.”

“Exotic locations, d-daring rescues, p-perilous traps… S-sounds like a party.” Blankety Blank examined the artist’s reproduction of the dagger. “When do we start?”

“Five seconds ago.”

Daring Do pushed the front doors open. Martial Paw the griffon had his talon poised to knock. When he saw her, he lowered his eyelids and took a step back.

“Dr. Do, we’ve reached the end of the passageway in the old palace.” Martial Paw took a long, wide sheet of paper from Humphrey the camel. “A map was carved into the stone. We took a rubbing of it.”

Daring Do held up the map. It was almost wider than her forelegs could reach. “We’ll take it back to the college and find a point of reference. We’ll track down that blade or my name isn’t Daring Do.”

Blankety Blank snickered. “Whatever you s-say, Miss Yearling.”

Daring Do pointed at him without looking. “Don’t make me regret my decision.” She lowered the map, folding it as she went. “Have the airship prepared to leave the instant the ceremony is over. I wanna get a move on.”

Martial glanced at Canter Mountain, sitting in the distance. He gave her a weak smile. “In a hurry to leave?”

Daring Do closed her eyes. A snowflake fell on the tip of her snout. “Nah. The sooner we get going, the sooner we can come back.”

Martial and Humphrey snapped their heads towards each other. Humphrey rubbed the top of his head. “You have unfinished business here, Friend Yearling?”

“Yeah. You could say that.” Daring grabbed Blank around the neck. “This here is Blankety Blank. He’s our new changeling.”

Blankety sighed. “You just have no c-concept of subtlety, do you?”

“Nope!” Daring Do let him go and brushed past Martial and Humphrey. “You guys coming? The train’s gonna pull out soon.”

Martial lowered his eyebrows. He clicked his beak before addressing Blank. “So. Changeling, huh?”

Blankety pressed his lips together. “L-last I checked.”

“M’kay.” Martial Paw shouldered his bag and strutted towards the train station. “Welcome to the crew.”

***

Spike tiptoed through the halls of Canterlot Castle, making his way to the kitchen. He stepped around shattered windows and askew tapestries. A chill crawled its way past his heavy coat and tickled his scales. The sun set behind him, casting long shadows across the floor, pointing the way towards his goal.

He ran a hand along the wall, stopping it at the door frame to the luncheon area. He peered around the corner and let one eye take the sight in. The four alicorns sat around the wooden table, eating sandwiches and speaking of light things. Easy things. Uncomplicated things.

Celestia laughed the loudest.

Spike watched her. A tear entered his eye; she really was alright. She really was alive and fighting. He hadn’t believed it. He had thought her gone for good, dead, not coming back. The scar on her chest was a testament to her spirit. She would not give up.

So neither would Spike.

He turned next to Twilight, who remained quiet. She smiled and laughed, but there was nary a hint of her musical voice. She wore Rainbow Dash’s white scarf over her throat, and tugged at it habitually. Spike gripped the frame. If he wouldn’t stop fighting, neither would she. They’d find a way to get her voice back. He was sure of it.

“Spike, what are you waiting for?” Cadence said. “Quit acting like a stalker and join us!”

Spike eased himself into the room. “I… I just wanted to say hi. I’m glad you’re alright.”

“Don’t be such a stranger, Spike!” Celestia laughed. “Come here. I think we’re all well overdue for a hug.”

Spike’s breath caught in his throat. His tail curled around his legs. He stood stock-still, his hands gripping each other tight.

Twilight got down from her seat. She walked slowly across the room. She reached Spike and lowered her head to look into his eyes.

“I c-can’t,” he said. “I c-can’t touch you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Luna stood up with a scrap of her chair. “Spike, what happened was—”

He fixed her with a desperate, horrified stare. He shook his head until he saw her back down.

“—happened…” Luna cleared her throat. “I happened to speak to Shardscale earlier this month, and she said that if a dragon does not take care of their inner flame, they shall enter a hundred-year sleep to recharge. Are you in danger of falling ill to these effects?”

“N-no.” Two sizzling tears fell down his scales. “I spoke with her a couple years ago. I’m still pretty small, so my inner flame doesn’t have to do much to reach full steam. I’ll be good until I’m a couple hundred years old, I think. As long as I stay warm.”

He smiled at Twilight. “As long as you don’t mind me being a little sleepy.”

Twilight’s gaze moved across his face, searching every inch for a hint of his inner emotions. After a moment, she pulled out a pad and paper and wrote. I missed you, Spike.

“I missed you, too, Twilight.” He wrung his hands so tight that his knuckles popped. “A lot.”

Twilight tilted her head and lowered her ears. What happened while I was gone?

“N-not much,” he said. “Just, you know, taking care of the Castle. I moved into the library, just so I’m closer to the books. You know how it is.”

Twilight Sparkle opened her wings slightly. Spike, tell me what really happened. I can help.

“I know, it’s—” Spike switched to rubbing his shoulders. “It’s something I have to work through, first. I’ll talk about it later. Like, later-later.”

Twilight sighed. But will you listen to what I need to talk about?

Spike took the paper in his claws. He nodded his head as quickly as he could. “Of course, Twilight! I’ll do anything you want. Really.”

Then even if you won’t hug me, may I hug you?

Spike’s eyes spilled over. “Yeah,” he squeaked.

He held still as Twilight wrapped her forelegs and wings around him. She held him close, careful to avoid his steaming tears. Celestia came from behind and hugged the both of them, a radiant smile on her muzzle.

Cadence looked to Luna and shrugged. She whispered out of the corner of her mouth. “I’d be stupid not to get in on this group hug.”

Luna chuckled. “I second that.”

The four alicorns gathered around Spike, lending him and each other their love. He shook as he cried—with happiness or sorrow, he wasn’t sure. The final squeeze came too soon, and was followed closely by their parting. He shuffled back a step.

“W-well, I’ve got somewhere I need to go—”

No you don’t, he thought.

“—so I’ll let you get back to lunch. I’ll see you at the knighting.”

He scampered out of the room, letting his subconscious direct him through the castle. It was devoid of anypony save for an occasional guard and himself. He had free reign. He could go anywhere he wanted and nobody would talk to him.

He wouldn’t have to explain himself to anybody. He wouldn’t have to confront what he did. He wouldn’t have to deal with their horrified expressions and false assurances that they didn’t think less of him.

He was across the ballroom before he knew it, pushing aside the doors and entering the garden. The giant tree rose as a bare skeleton of black branches over the white landscape. Stone benches were frozen over with snow and ice. Flower beds were bare patches of dirt. Everything was dead, and quiet, and hushed.

A quick breath melted the snow from a seat. He nestled onto the warm stone and looked up at the sleeping tree. It stood tall; alone. He kinda felt he could identify with it in a weird, arboreal way.

“You stand out like a sore thumb out here, you know.”

Spike choked. He swore under his breath and looked up. Care Carrot shuffled a meter away, her steps making no noise in the light snow. She wore a heavy, red, checkered coat.

“Hay, Care.” Spike drummed his claws on his knees. “Congratulations on your knighthood.”

“Thanks.” She tilted her horn towards the bench. “May I?”

“Yeah. I don’t—” He stopped himself. His first instinct was to say “I don’t own it,” but he felt it was too harsh. “I don’t mind.”

Care settled down. She rocked on her rump, gazing up at the tree. “I always thought winter was a sad season. Everything’s asleep. I mean, there’s Hearth’s Warming, but that always feels more like a defiance of winter, you know?”

He nodded. “Cold. Quiet. Dim.”

Care let her foreleg drop to the snow. She swished her hoof around. “But it’s not all bad. The world needs to rest. It needs to sleep so that it can wake up refreshed. You trudge through the hard winter long enough, you eventually find spring.”

Spike stared hard at the dark bark. He crossed his legs and leaned his elbows on his knees. “Sounds like a metaphor for life.”

“Isn’t everything?” Care lifted the snow and rolled it around in her hooves. “I never got the chance to properly thank you.”

“For what?”

“Saving my life.” Care glanced at him, though he refused to look back. “I’d have been paste if not for you. And who knows what would have happened then? You sorta-kinda indirectly saved Equestria again.”

“Story of my life.” Spike buried his head in his hands. “I do something absolutely stupid and everybody tells me I’m a hero.”

“What you did wasn’t stupid.” Care punched his shoulder. “You acted, which is a heck of a lot more than most people have the privilege of saying. You directly saved my life. That means something to me. Something deep and strong.”

She set the snow beside her and rested her foreleg across his shoulders. “You’re my friend, Spike. One that I’m darn lucky to have. One that I’d like to keep as my friend, if you’re willing.”

Spike’s claws dug into his scales. “I’d be a monster to say no, wouldn’t I?”

Care narrowed her eyes. “You’re not a monster, Spike.”

“Aren’t I?” He looked at her, his cheek wet and giving off steam. “I look at my hands and they keep turning red. I did something horrible, so how can it possibly have been the right thing to do?”

Care sighed. She slid her hooves along his arm until she touched his hands. “I don’t know. I don’t know if it really was the right thing to do. But what I do know…”

She waited until he was looking at her. She smiled. “You charged down that hallway, and you weren’t thinking about yourself. You risked your life for me. You were brave, and strong, and noble.”

She scootched back to get herself more comfortable. She rolled the chunk of snow. “You know what? You’re my hero.”

Spike cleared his throat. He scratched tiny furrows through the stone. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

He looked down at his open palms. She stuck the snowball between his fingers. “You’re cooler than you think,” she said. “You’re not a murderer. You’re a mighty dragon that protects his friends.”

He pinched the snowball between his forefingers. It was perfectly packed. “It still hurts.”

“It probably will for a long time.” Care lifted herself off the bench and took a step towards the tree. “I just want you to know that I’m glad you were there for me.”

He held the ball close to his chest. “I want to be there for all my friends.”

Care placed her hoof on the tree and grinned. “Good.”

Spike gave her a lopsided smile. “Question is, how do you get rid of a constant dull ache?”

A snowball hit him square in the nose. He tumbled backwards into a snow bank. He snorted steam and snow as he sat up. “Wh—whoa?”

Care tossed a snowball to herself. “The beatings will continue until morale improves.”

A slow, beastly grin overtook Spike’s face. He hefted the snowball she’d given him. “Never arm the enemy—”

Her next snowball impacted the side of his head. She laughed loud and long. “I hope you throw faster than you talk!”

His snowball hit her right in the chest. Her old injuries protested all at once. She held back a vicious swear. “I guess I was asking for that one.”

Spike ran her way, rolling a snowball as he went. “More where that came from!”

She ducked behind the tree and flung snow his way. “Cliché after cliché, I’m almost impressed!”

They chased each other around the tree, tossing snowballs and zingers. Within a few minutes, both were covered in snow and sweat. They collapsed into the snow banks, but not before Spike doused Care with an armful of the stuff.

Twilight Sparkle watched from the window, a small smile decorating her face. She felt a presence at her side.

“He looks better already,” Luna said.

Twilight nodded. I sort of wish I had helped with that.

“You’ll get that chance.” Luna placed a hoof on Twilight’s back. “Healing takes time, after all. He needs you as much as you need him.”

Twilight lay against her forehooves. As much as you need Celestia?

“Nearly.” Luna tugged on the tips of Twilight’s wings. “Come now. The air is cold and the fire is warm. You were just telling me about that book you were writing…”

***

The Canterlot Castle throne room was empty of petitioners. The doors had been closed off and locked, with no admittance save for a select few. The banners beside the throne were two-fold: the sun on one side, and the moon on the other. Celestia and Luna stood together, facing the end of the hall.

Light lined the walls, illuminating the stained glass windows depicting the major moments of Equestrian history. The Fall of Nightmare Moon, the Imprisonment of Discord, the Return of Harmony, and others. Blank windows awaited new memories, while old ones were constantly polished to maintain their sheen.

Care Carrot turned her eyes to the latest stained glass design. It depicted Princess Celestia, lying on her back, her wings spread, a spear jutting up from her heart. Commander Hurricane flew above her, silvery blades scattered throughout her wings.

An orange unicorn, a gray unicorn, a mustardy pegasus, a brown earth pony, and a changeling all stood around Celestia, shielding her from the commander. An array of soldiers and griffons lay beneath her, their spears raised in defense.

The glassworker had named the work of art “DayBreak.”

Care walked down the aisle beside Twilight Velvet. The six Bearers of the Elements of Harmony were in attendance, as well as Velvet’s immediate family. Care smirked as she realized that three generations of Twilights were present: Twilight Velvet, Twilight Sparkle, and Twilight Amore. Spike stood beside Shining Armor, Cadence, and Silver Lance, all four full of smiles. Night Light blew his wife a kiss.

On the other side, Care saw Daring Do and Blankety Blank, both cheering her on. Other Knights of Harmony surrounded them, featuring several faces Care couldn’t recognize. The ones she did recognize were fairly public figures: Sweetie Drops was a critical component in the defeat of the Bugbears, though she vehemently denied it. She almost thought she saw the doughnut maker from downtown, but decided that was crazy.

After an altogether too-short walk, she was at the throne. Windblown and Skyhook stood beside their representative princesses. Windblown stepped forward with a gold circlet and placed it on her head. Skyhook had a circlet for Velvet, though his eyes kept jumping to Care.

Luna bent over and touched each of Twilight Velvet’s shoulders with her horn. She did the same with Care, giving her a wink.

Celestia touched her horn to their shoulders next, whispering a prayer and blessing. She finished with a kiss to their foreheads. She bid them turn around and face the crowd.

Care and Velvet gripped each other’s forehooves and held them above their heads. They stood tall as their friends and family charged onto the dais. Care joined with the cheers wholeheartedly, screaming until her throat was hoarse. Applejack pulled her into a rough hug and rubbed her mane. Spike traded a hoof-bump. Daring sang off-key while Blankety let out bubbly laughter.

Twilight Velvet, Knight of Counsel, and Care Carrot, Knight Sentinel, followed the crowd down the stairs to kick the full celebration into gear.