Rise From Betrayalby Diokno44ChaptersI-A Plot UncoveredII-A False FuneralIII-Scholary QuestionsIV. Hidden Knives, Hidden RegretsI-A Plot UncoveredDowntown Canterlot, the seedier portion of the noble city. While a majority of the ancient town is the pinnacle of equine civility and nobility, there exist a small bastion, filled with cutthroats, addicts, and criminal scum. A light flickers on the second floor of a shoddy looking establishment. The stench of cheap booze and sweat emanate from the old bar. The Prancing Pony, once a respected gentlestallion's club, is now the main headquarters of the criminal underworld. Outside, a stallion, his form covered by a dark grey rainslick, trots to the building, he has a purpose at this den of inequity. Upstairs, in a shadowed window booth, a group of ponies sit. Three stallions, and two mares. Half-empty tankards of spiced cider sit before them. The head of their group, an alabaster Unicorn, his coat freshly combed, as was his golden mane and tail, shimmer off the flickering gaslight. His face, noble and calm underneath, his hidden behind a mask, resembling a wolf's visage. A simple disguise, but an effective one, to hide the identity of Prince Blueblood the 300th, many-times great grandnephew of Princess Celestia. He coughs into a hoof, "So, are the weapons ready, Sir Gallant Heart?" He asked the stallion sitting across from him. Solar Guard Lieutenant Gallant Heat, his left eye having a thin scar running from the top of the upper eyelid, to the bottom of the lower eyelid was his most distinguishing feature, nodded. "Yes, I've stashed them in a few hollowed out spaces, the floor beneath my desk, underneath your bed, Blueblood, etc." Blueblood nodded in satisfaction, taking a small sip of his drink. "Ivory Shell here has been planning out any and all escape routes." He hooves some rolled up scrolls to Blueblood. "Sadly, Lords Cosmo, Greengrass, and Vice fell ill for this meeting, but, here, are the mapped out routes, and, thanks to some careful snooping, the patrol routes for later tonight." Blueblood broke the seals, and began looking over the notes, a thin smile gracing his lips. "Excellent work Gallant, your help, as always, is invaluable." He slapped his hoof against the shoulder of the lieutenant. "With these in hoof, all of Sparkle's plans to give power to...commoners." There was a collective shudder of disgust from the assembled group. "And allow filthy non-equines to live with us, will die with her." He raised his mug, as did his fellows, "Par le sang, la paix" The others repated their oath, Through blood, peace, a Prench phrase Blueblood had come to love. Meanwhile, from a booth across from theirs, a stallion rose, his cloak swaying about him. Tossing a few bits on the oily wooden table, he began galloping away from the seedy bar and brothel. If one looked closely, one could see a glint of golden armor hidden beneath the rain slick. ----X---- Twilight mumbled, turning over in her bed. There was a loud knocking at her door. Smacking her lips, and rubbing her eyes, the Princess of Friendship slowly trotted to her bedroom door, and opened it. She found a familiar blue maned stallion, her friend-with-benefits, and former coltfriend, Flash Sentry. "Flash? It's..." She glanced at her clock, "10:44, what is it?" She asked. Flash panted, catching his breath. "Twilight, I followed Blueblood to downtown, I overheard him and a few others talking. I-I think they may want to kill you." Twiliight's eyes widened, as she took a step back. "T-they said they wanted your plans of social reform, to die with you." Twilight began to hyperventilate, trying to focus her breathing. "When?" He pointed to the one on the clock. "A-alright, I might have a plan, you know that mirror image spell I showed you and Sunset last time she visited?" He nodded, from what he recalled, it was an illusion spell, one allowing an exact duplicate of a pony to be made, that was when it hit him. She smiled, her horn glowing. A shimmer of pulsating, violet light appeared over where had been sleeping. A beam of light slowly went up and down, as it slowly made a copy of Twilight, who, for all intents and purposes, appeared to be sleeping. Flash nodded, and trotted back to his room. Carefully pulling the covers over her doppelganger, she slipped under the bed, a mini scrying portal in the corner of the ceiling, barely the size of a common house fly. Breathing slowly, she waited, as the clock ticked in rhythm with her exhales. Hours later, just as she was about to doze off for the the second time, she heard the door slowly creak open. Turning her eyes to the scrying spell, she witnessed several ponies, their faces obscured by masks, daggers glinting at their side, approach her bed. She held her breath, watching as they raised their knives over her double. With the sound of metal wetly hitting flesh, they dug into her, artificial blood staining their murderous blades. The deed done, the first assassin, who, from turning his head to congratulate his fellows, was revealed to be none other than Lieutenant Gallant Heart lit his horn. The assailants vanished in a flash of light, as the sound of a guard's enchanted hoofguards clattered closer to her bedroom. The guard, a recruit by the looks of her, no more than a mare fresh out of college, came into the room. She gasped, her spear, acting as both a traditional melee weapon, and a projectile launcher, clattered to the floor. Her face, for the disguise enchantment had failed in her shock, made her copper coat turn as pale as when disguised, was twisted in horror. She fought back the urge to vomit, and immediatly raced down the hall, "Alert the guards! Princess Twilight Sparkle has been attacked! Princess Twilight Sparkle has been attacked!" She yelled. Twilight felt bad for the young recruit, but still stayed hidden, waiting for the opportune moment to reveal herself. Minutes later, Princess Celestia, her beautiful, radiant marefriend, entered the room, accompanied by several of her guards. She rushed over to the duplicate, cradling it in her gentle forehooves. It pained her heart to do this, but all would be well soon. She covered her eyes, as an explosion of magical healing energy washed over the area, bathing it in light. If Twilight had to guess, you could see the blast from Manehatten. "Twilight, Twilight...d-don't leave me. Please." Celestia pleaded to the heavens, tears streaming down her face. She laid a gently kiss on the lips of the lavender double, tears splashing against its artificial skin, and trailing down its body. That was when Celestia looked closer. The artificial blood that spell creation bled was not entirely red, it had a violet tinge to it, a result of Twilight's magic. That, and the lips she had tenderly kissed, which normally tasted of vanilla and lavender, tasted like warm ash, and ice. Slowly, Twilight crawled from under the bed, and was immediately enveloped in the warm embrace of Celestia. "You're alive!" She muttered, burying her face into Twilight's chest. "I know Celly, if Flash hadn't warned me..." She trailed off, as the castle staff began removing the blood stained sheets. She gently squirmed out from other the large Alicorn's body, groaning. "We have to make Gallant and the others," She showed her scrying recording to Celestia, who growled. "think they succeded. I'll write a letter to my friends and family to let them know I'm alive." She quickly began gathering materials. "I've have to go dark, disguise myself. If I can try and get the reforms passed, then we can have some unity, and nab them when we know who else was part of the plot." Maybe she had been reading to many mystery and spy novels, but it was all she had to go with. "After that, would we reveal you're alive?" Celestia asked, sitting on her haunches. Twilight nodded, as her horn glowed dimly. Her coat began to change color, turning from the beautiful lavender Celestia loved, to a lush forest green. Her wings slowly, but surely, became invisible, starting at the tips, and descending, until she looked like any old Unicorn. Her mane gained a bit of a curl at the end, and the part closest to her face became curled as well, turning into a fiery red color, with a light yellow highlight. Using a bit of illusion magic, and some quickly colored paper, her Cutie Mark changed to that of a rolled up scrolls interlaced with a quill. "Though I prefer your usual look, this should work Twily." She nuzzled her marefriend. "Thanks Celly, and, when we're in public, its Forest Scribe." Twlight smiled, then turned to the simulucrum of herself, its forelegs folded over its chest, as if in prayer. "Well, I guess we should prepare "my" funeral, but first..." Grabbing a fresh quill, parchment, and some ink, she began writing notes to her friends, her parents, her brother, Cadence, and anypony else she deserved to know the truth, that she was alive, but not to tell a single living soul outside of each other. Smiling, she gave the letters to a Flash, who promised to deliver them. "Hmm, I'll need a cover story." She thought aloud, as some of the guards began carrying "her" body to the Royal Mortician, a mare by the name of Quick Stitch, a former seamstress. Twilight breathed a sigh of relief, "Well, since I won't be using my old chambers for some time, can I sleep with you?" She asked coyly. Her curled tail swayed against the floor. Celestia chuckled, "Of course "Forest." She winked, as the two trotted to Celestia's bedchambers, hoof in hoof. Meanwhile, in Blueblood Manor, Prince Blueblood and a few of his noble friends were toasting, to a plan carried out, an assassination successful. At least, that's what they thought. II-A False FuneralRain fell hard on the "funeral" of Princess Twilight Sparkle, as if the heavens themselves were mourning. The parents of Twilight, Night Light and Twilight Velvet, as well as the Bearers of the Elements, Spike, Twilight's adopted little brother.Shining, Cadence, as well as a few others were garbed in black, a dark velvet band wrapped around their right forelegs. Though each wore an expression of sorrow as they gazed at the glass encased body of "Princess Twilight Sparkle", every so often they would shoot a small smile at the forest green "adviser" of Celestia, for they knew the truth. Celestia cast a knowing look at Twilight, or as the world knew her now as, Forest Scribe, before trotting up to the podium, on which a small microphone rested. She cleared her throat, her face a mask of mourning, as she took a small sip from her glass of water, which sat near her. "My dear citizens, last night, a group entered the bedroom of Princess Twilight Sparkle, and murdered her in her sleep." A few ponies sniffled at this. "From what I am told, they sought not her demise, but the demise of her dreams of harmony with the other nations, and allowing non-nobility say in the government" She felt warm tears run down her face, the salt licking against her lips. "Today, on this dreary day, we commemorate her, here, in the Garden of Remembrance, where all my previous students that have passed on have been laid to rest. May the Maker watch over her." She stepped off the platform, her hooves clopping against wood and stone. "May the Maker watch over her." The attendants repeated, saying a silent prayer. A few of them left, trotting back to their jobs or homes, leaving only the family of Twilight Sparkle, and her close circle of friends left. Twilight stared at "her" body, the illusion a permanent one, well, it would run out in a few years, but still. Twilight Velvet trotted up to her disguised daughter, a small smile on her face. "This must be so surreal Twily, attending your own funeral?" She chuckled lightly, happy her daughter was alive and well, as she hugged her now green furred body. Twilight nodded, "It is mom" She ran a hoof down the glass casket, inches away from the simulicrum's slightly cracked horn. "You know, maybe, if you and the others ever wanna hang out in the palace, maybe I can drop this disguise, just then." She winked, as her mother nuzzled her. "Thanks sweetie, and, I have good news!" She patted her belly, which caused a smile to break out on Twilight's face, and her eyes to glow with excitement. "Yup, I'm pregnant Twily, you can thank your father for that." she smirked at her husband, who had a look of pride on her face. "Well, we have to get going, remember to write." She linked hooves with her husband, and began to trot back to their home. Shining and Cadence likewise bid their farewells, because they had duties in the Empire, and Cadence was pretty tired from the teleport over. Quickly hugging the disguised Princess Sparkle, they began making their way to the train station, their tails and hooves intertwined, Cadence's head resting on her husband's shoulder. Her friends had chatted for a short time with the disguised Alicorn, then quickly left. Fluttershy and Rainbow's wings her interlocked in a wing embrace, as they departed for their shared home, Fluttershy's forest cottage. This left Twilight and Celestia, standing under a rain splattered tarp, where before them lay the dead doppelganger of Twilight Sparkle, her hooves crossed over her chest as if in prayer. Alternating flowers of different colors ringed the glass. ¨Well, I guess we better go. I am supposed to be dead after all, and we have work to do.¨ Twilight said, tapping the glass. ¨Of course sweetie.¨ Celestia gently pecked her marefriend on the cheek. As the rain fell around them, Twilight cast a thin shield spell around them, as a sort of magical umbrella. The rain dripped on and down the nigh invisible barrier of magical energy, leaving thin trails, which quickly dissipated against the field. Together, hoof in hoof, the duo left the garden. Twilight Sparkle may be dead to all save a close few, but Forest Scribe lived. Under this persona, Twilight could only pray to bring her hopes and dreams of peace to fruition. It had been a little over two weeks since "Twilight's" funeral. Alongside being an adviser to Celestia, Twilight had taken on the role of being Celestia's personal hoofmaiden, so that she could stay close to her marefriend. Flash and Sunset, being the closest in proximity to her, would often stop by. Celestia, keeping up the guise of a lover and Princess in mourning, often refused to speak about Twilight when she was brought up, or deflected the question entirely. Whenever her Council sent a new law for her to look over, Celestia would have Twilight, or as the world knew her as, Forest Scribe, check it over with her, and give her advice. Thankfully, Twilight had read up on legal terminology and the like when she was still learning on how to be the Princess of Friendship. Such an occurrence had found the two in Celestia's room. A crackling fire blazed in the chiseled stone hearth. The door was locked, twin guards stationed outside. The guard's armor had been set to "Defense Mode". In place of their normal, often ceremonial mode, their armor now covered the entirety of their bodies. The normally thin magical protection barrier around their armor was now strengthened significantly. Their mana-spears were freshly sharpened, the stun lasers they could fire had their efficiency boosted by at least ten percent. Slung across their backs were mana-launchers, polished steel crossbow like devices, that when cocked, would fire bolts of magical energy. The type could be changed at the flick of a switch. The two were alert, gazing at each and every point of entry into the hallway. "So, what law are we going over now Celly?" Twilight asked, sipping a cup of warm cocoa, marshmallows bobbing in the liquid. Celestia smiled slightly, and levitated a rather large parchment infront of her. Twilight quickly grabbed a quill, and a fresh pot of ink, and set them next to the bill. That was when she noticed the name of the requester. "Hmm, what could Blueblood want?" III-Scholary QuestionsIt has been a little over a month since the funeral of "Twilight Sparkle.". By now, "Forest Scribe" was one the main topics amongst the other advisors of not only the Councilors, but also by some of the junior Celestian scribes. Their senior members, those directly under Forest, were told the truth in due time. While two of the five had been opposed to the idea of non-Equestrian races taking a place amongst society, the other three were quite accepting of the idea. All five, under a binding oath to serve the Princess, agreed to keep the fact that Twilight Sparkle still lived under wraps. Forest's hooves clacked against the tiled floor. She had just gotten a field report from acting Captain of the Royal Guard, Flash Sentry, her ex, about some bandits in the northern Dragontail Mountains. From what the recon teams had gathered, they seemed to be a joint coalition of Unicorns, and Minortaurs. As Celestia's personal advisor/hoofmaiden, and with all the senior guards running drills, it had fallen on Twilight's shoulders to deliver the message. That, and with all the errands she had to run, with some of the...rather odd demands from a few of the more eccentric nobles, such as Lord Morning Wood wanting permission to expand his mansion on top of a public pool situated next door, she was tired as Tartarus. "So, who exactly is this...Forest chick anyway?" A smooth, creamy voice asked. Twilight turned, just as she was about to exit the scribe's quarters. Sitting around a table were three Junior Scribes, a Griffon, a Changeling, and a Dragopon, a half-Pony, half-dragon offspring. Twilight wracked her brain, trying to remember their names. The Griffon, his name was Wind Cutter, the Changeling, her name was Ichorous, and the Dragopon, if memory served, was Drel'Kas Stone, Drel'Kas being the Draconian word for Burning. Should I speak up? Twilight asked herself, glancing at the reports nestled in her magic, and then back to the assembled group. "You mean aside from being Celestia's personal hoofmaiden?" Ichrous smirked, her eyes smokey. "I don't think any of us or our superiors have actually asked." She placed her head on her chin, humming in thought. Her insectoid wings buzzed every so often, breaking up the relative silence of the group. "Actually," Drel'Kas piped up, sipping her juice, "Councilor Iron Wood apparently asked Princess Luna when she was about to pass by him in a corridor earlier today." The other two turned to face the Dragopon, who was the apprentice to Iron Wood's half-sister, Sand Bagger. "So, the official story is that she's some bastard filly of Lady Lichen Scribe." The Scribe family, of which Twilight had taken part of her pseudonym from, were an offshoot family of the main Sparkle Clan. Lichen was her father's cousin, twice removed from their mother's will before she was reinstated. They were a well known family of clerks and financial advisers. The Lichen and her husband were on good terms with Night Light and Velvet, and had vowed to keep Twilight's secret safe. Lichen's husband, a dragon by the name of Vass'Ectomy Scribe, had used his abilities as a lawyer and former signature inspector to falsify and plant records of "Forest" as a child born out of wedlock. "Heh, figures." Wind said, popping a small chunk of freshly cut Neigh York style steak down her beak. Ichorous glared at her, as that bit had come from her plate. Wind rolled her eyes as Ichorous pulled her plate further away from the griffon. "You know, I bet she bribed or banged the princess for that position!" Drel spat out his juice, coughing hoarsely, as he locked his thighs together. "Think about it, some filly popped out of some illicit relationship Lady Lichen had, becomes the personal hoofmaiden to Celestia, that's the only way she could get in that high!" She guzzled her milk down, slamming the cup back down onto the table. "Maybe Princess Luna or Cadence recommended her?" Drel brought up, clearing his throat. "I mean, with how depressed, and rightfully so, Princess Celestia was, having somepony to listen to would have helped immensely." He finished his plate, the cutlery clattering onto the well made porcelain plate. The other two glanced at eachother, and shrugged. The three scribes resumed a normal conversation. Meanwhile, Twilight Sparkle, as she was known to all but a few now, Forest Scribe, slipped out of sight. She still had to deliver these reports. The thick door to Celestia's personal chambers slowly swung open. Plates with flecks of food and cake on them were neatly piled in a corner. Celestia was laying on a cushion, a copy of some Neighponese manga propped open before her, Her well toned flank was facing the door. Twilight mentally snickered, and gently plucked a quill from the nearby table. As quietly as she could, she tickled the solar monarch's flank with the feather. Celestia squeaked in surprise, and burst into laughter. Twilight chuckled, dropping the feather. "Here are the reports, Princess Celestia." She said, gently setting the stack of papers onto Celestia's desk. Here they could relax, away from the politics and petty squabbles of the nobility. She sat across from Celestia, who had calmed down by now. "You know, sometimes I wonder how you keep your hooves off me during meetings." She teased, dropping the Pritish accent she had adopted for her role as Forest Scribe. She plopped down on a nearby pillow, smiling. She cracked her joints, letting out a sigh of relief. Celestia giggled, her self-developed mask of regal perfection falling away to reveal the mare beneath the title of Princess. "Ah, it is quite a challenge "Forest" she said, removing her regalia. Her golden aura levitated them over to a specially made case, where anypony who was not Celestia or her sister, and it could detect any and all glamour based spells, would find a rather nasty shock awaiting them. She never slept with it on. "I've often fantasised of having you just drop the disguise during a meeting so we could cuddle. It would stave off the boredom." She chuckled, as the sound of rain splashing against the windows of the castle could be heard. Her eyes roamed to the clock. "It seems its almost time for bed." She got up, combing her mane. Twilight followed suit. Soon, the two mares were snuggling up together in bed, Meanwhile, in Blueblood Manor.... As Sir Amadeus Blueblood and his staff slept quietly in their chambers, a small light flickered in the bedroom of one Prince Blueblood, heir to the noble House of Blueblood. In his hoof he held an orichalchum dagger. This rare mineral, which one could only be found in a sparse few mines, or on fallen meteors, was one of the few things that could harm an Alicorn, or one of the minor Spirits, such as Discord . Princess Celestia and Luna had made it so any and all found would be under careful survelliance by top smiths and guards, all deposits were to be immediately reported to any of the princesses, with an added reward of around 500 bits per deposit. Blueblood didn't really had a need for it now. Its purpose had been served. It had taken him weeks of careful planning, and maneuvering the seedy underground of the black market to even acquire this exquisitely crafted blade. It's dark green, glass like surface reflected the light of the small table lamp he possesed. It was a trophy, and when his children were born, he would show them the blade that had kept any peasants or foreigners from stealing jobs from hard working Equestrians. He switched off the light, and hid his prized dagger, that he had lent to his comrade the night of the assassination, in a hollowed out spot beneath his bed. He fell asleep, dreaming of tomorrow. IV. Hidden Knives, Hidden RegretsThe Royal Gardens, one of the most peaceful locations in the entire castle. Celestia and Luna would often come here to think, be alone from the politics and age old feuds of the various noble families. On this warm, summer night, the garden was quiet, save for the chirping of crickets, and the soft clanking of the ebony infused steel boots of the Night Guard. The Nightcore Regiment, comprised primarily of vamponies, were on their rounds. One of their number, a half Zebra, half Earth Pony mare turned when she heard the faint sound of unarmored hooves. She quickly turned, her spear's tip glowing. Alongside being a melee weapon with good reach, the spears of both the Day and Night guard were enchanted so they could fire a beam of magical energy, where it could be set to lethal or stun. She turned to find a familiar, infamous among the castle staff, noblestallion, facing away from her. ¨Prince Blueblood?¨ Ebony Hawk asked, surprised. She cocked her head, ¨What are you doing out here at this hour?¨ She asked Celestia's many times great nephew. Blueblood's ears perked up when he heard Ebony's voice pierce the relative silence of the gardens. He quickly spun around, his blonde mane swishing behind him. He put on an insulted expression, one he used often. ¨I am merely taking a stroll. I couldn't sleep well, not since....the incident.¨ He said, his tone even. He used all the breathing exercises he learned during a diplomatic meeting to Sri Lama to calm both his breathing, and his heart from beating too quickly. ¨I believe you have rounds to be completing guardsmare?¨ Ebony merely nodded, holding in all the things she wished to say to the pompous prince. ¨Then do so.¨ Ebony turned, and went back to her rounds. Prince Blueblood exhaled sharply, wiping his brow. He turned, and trotted to a secluded part of the garden, his sole saddlebag jiggling slightly. The prince found what he was looking for. It was a large hedge in the shape of a horseshoe. A large redwood tree created a natural umbrella from rain and heat alike. A bench sat in the middle of the horseshoe, facing the hoary tree. He ran his manicured hoof over the smoothed surface of the ancient stone bench. Turning around, he slowly sat on the bench, setting the saddlebag on his lap. ¨Time to business then.¨ Blueblood said to nopony in particular. His horn lit up, as the clasp on his bag, the Blueblood family crest, came undone. He opened the bag, revealing a single object occupying the finely tailored saddlebag. He held the object in his magical grasp, and slowly slid a bit of the dark cloth away, revealing the gleaming metal of a thin blade. ¨I have to bury you.¨ He said to the knife, one of many that had ended in the life of Princess Twilight Sparkle. The assassination had occupied his thoughts for some time now. It gnawed at the edges of his psyche like a parasite. With that, had come pangs of guilt, which he quickly drowned with the company of some of the finest mares bits could afford, and by focusing on his work on Celestia's Council of Lords. Blueblood stood up, the blade floating behind him. It spun slowly, like a sharp top. He bent down, focused on a patch of earth by the tree, in between two thick roots. Using the training given to him by the best tutors his father could get him, he could focus his magic on more than one object, The ground lit up, as clumps of cold earth rose up, and landed in a neat pile beside the growing hole, His breath caught in his throat as he beheld a lockbox. He gentley pulled it out of the ground, and opened it. It had never been locked. His eyes gazed at its contents. They were all from his days as a foal and a colt, when he had been carefree, with Celestia playing games with him, carrying him around. He wiped the tears from his eyes before they even formed. There was a sack of bottlecaps, his emergency currency stash for when, and if, the friendship megaspell bombs ever fell. They never did, but he had been prepared, alongside that were various other items, photos of him in various ¨cutesy¨ outfits, riding on Celestia's back while he was dressed in a sailor suit, and many more. One showed his sixth birthday party. A faint smile came to the prince's face as he recalled the happy memories. Seventeen Years Ago A young Blueblood smiled, as he blew out the small flames on the six candles adourning his cake. Hooves were heard applauding the birthday colt. His mother, Sparkling Wine embraced him. ¨Happy birthday Blueblood.¨ She smiled, pecking her son on the cheek. He had giggled, and returned the hug, or as much as his young forelegs could. His father, Amadeus, looked at the duo, never smiling. He rarely did, and rarely gave compliments to his son. It was always commands, or criticism. His father had always said he was part of a proud legacy that dated back to the Long Night, when the brainwashed Wendigo legions had went into a bloody, three year war with Equestria and the neighboring lands, when winter lasted for three years, blanketing the nation in cold and depression. How it was through the efforts of Clover the Clever's newly made spell, coupled with a little help from the...¨mud pony¨ Crystal Heart, were they finally able to drive the Wendigoes back to Jotunheim, and restore the true king, Fimbulvetr, back on the throne. ¨Happy birthday Blooey.¨ Celestia smiled, trotting over to her nephew. Blueblood had grinned, and glomped his aunt's neck in a heartbeat. Blooey had been a nickname young Blueblood had come up with, since he had detested, at that age, having a word like ¨blood¨ in his name. ¨What ever happened to those days?" Blueblood whispered, running a hoof across the picture. He was so innocent, so...happy. He sighed, choking back tears as he placed the items back into the box. He gently laid the dagger inside, and closed the box. ¨I'm sorry.¨ He said, placing the box back into its hiding place. But, he wondered, who was he apologizing too. Was it Princess Twilight, the mare who he had conspired to murder? Or was it his younger self, that playful colt that was always smiling, always laughing? He sighed, burying the box once again, albeit quickly, sloppily. He stood up, fixing his mane. He ran his hoof across his cheek, finding the remnants of a tear. With one last glance at the tree, he turned, and trotted back to his chambers, head bowed low.
I-A Plot UncoveredDowntown Canterlot, the seedier portion of the noble city. While a majority of the ancient town is the pinnacle of equine civility and nobility, there exist a small bastion, filled with cutthroats, addicts, and criminal scum. A light flickers on the second floor of a shoddy looking establishment. The stench of cheap booze and sweat emanate from the old bar. The Prancing Pony, once a respected gentlestallion's club, is now the main headquarters of the criminal underworld. Outside, a stallion, his form covered by a dark grey rainslick, trots to the building, he has a purpose at this den of inequity. Upstairs, in a shadowed window booth, a group of ponies sit. Three stallions, and two mares. Half-empty tankards of spiced cider sit before them. The head of their group, an alabaster Unicorn, his coat freshly combed, as was his golden mane and tail, shimmer off the flickering gaslight. His face, noble and calm underneath, his hidden behind a mask, resembling a wolf's visage. A simple disguise, but an effective one, to hide the identity of Prince Blueblood the 300th, many-times great grandnephew of Princess Celestia. He coughs into a hoof, "So, are the weapons ready, Sir Gallant Heart?" He asked the stallion sitting across from him. Solar Guard Lieutenant Gallant Heat, his left eye having a thin scar running from the top of the upper eyelid, to the bottom of the lower eyelid was his most distinguishing feature, nodded. "Yes, I've stashed them in a few hollowed out spaces, the floor beneath my desk, underneath your bed, Blueblood, etc." Blueblood nodded in satisfaction, taking a small sip of his drink. "Ivory Shell here has been planning out any and all escape routes." He hooves some rolled up scrolls to Blueblood. "Sadly, Lords Cosmo, Greengrass, and Vice fell ill for this meeting, but, here, are the mapped out routes, and, thanks to some careful snooping, the patrol routes for later tonight." Blueblood broke the seals, and began looking over the notes, a thin smile gracing his lips. "Excellent work Gallant, your help, as always, is invaluable." He slapped his hoof against the shoulder of the lieutenant. "With these in hoof, all of Sparkle's plans to give power to...commoners." There was a collective shudder of disgust from the assembled group. "And allow filthy non-equines to live with us, will die with her." He raised his mug, as did his fellows, "Par le sang, la paix" The others repated their oath, Through blood, peace, a Prench phrase Blueblood had come to love. Meanwhile, from a booth across from theirs, a stallion rose, his cloak swaying about him. Tossing a few bits on the oily wooden table, he began galloping away from the seedy bar and brothel. If one looked closely, one could see a glint of golden armor hidden beneath the rain slick. ----X---- Twilight mumbled, turning over in her bed. There was a loud knocking at her door. Smacking her lips, and rubbing her eyes, the Princess of Friendship slowly trotted to her bedroom door, and opened it. She found a familiar blue maned stallion, her friend-with-benefits, and former coltfriend, Flash Sentry. "Flash? It's..." She glanced at her clock, "10:44, what is it?" She asked. Flash panted, catching his breath. "Twilight, I followed Blueblood to downtown, I overheard him and a few others talking. I-I think they may want to kill you." Twiliight's eyes widened, as she took a step back. "T-they said they wanted your plans of social reform, to die with you." Twilight began to hyperventilate, trying to focus her breathing. "When?" He pointed to the one on the clock. "A-alright, I might have a plan, you know that mirror image spell I showed you and Sunset last time she visited?" He nodded, from what he recalled, it was an illusion spell, one allowing an exact duplicate of a pony to be made, that was when it hit him. She smiled, her horn glowing. A shimmer of pulsating, violet light appeared over where had been sleeping. A beam of light slowly went up and down, as it slowly made a copy of Twilight, who, for all intents and purposes, appeared to be sleeping. Flash nodded, and trotted back to his room. Carefully pulling the covers over her doppelganger, she slipped under the bed, a mini scrying portal in the corner of the ceiling, barely the size of a common house fly. Breathing slowly, she waited, as the clock ticked in rhythm with her exhales. Hours later, just as she was about to doze off for the the second time, she heard the door slowly creak open. Turning her eyes to the scrying spell, she witnessed several ponies, their faces obscured by masks, daggers glinting at their side, approach her bed. She held her breath, watching as they raised their knives over her double. With the sound of metal wetly hitting flesh, they dug into her, artificial blood staining their murderous blades. The deed done, the first assassin, who, from turning his head to congratulate his fellows, was revealed to be none other than Lieutenant Gallant Heart lit his horn. The assailants vanished in a flash of light, as the sound of a guard's enchanted hoofguards clattered closer to her bedroom. The guard, a recruit by the looks of her, no more than a mare fresh out of college, came into the room. She gasped, her spear, acting as both a traditional melee weapon, and a projectile launcher, clattered to the floor. Her face, for the disguise enchantment had failed in her shock, made her copper coat turn as pale as when disguised, was twisted in horror. She fought back the urge to vomit, and immediatly raced down the hall, "Alert the guards! Princess Twilight Sparkle has been attacked! Princess Twilight Sparkle has been attacked!" She yelled. Twilight felt bad for the young recruit, but still stayed hidden, waiting for the opportune moment to reveal herself. Minutes later, Princess Celestia, her beautiful, radiant marefriend, entered the room, accompanied by several of her guards. She rushed over to the duplicate, cradling it in her gentle forehooves. It pained her heart to do this, but all would be well soon. She covered her eyes, as an explosion of magical healing energy washed over the area, bathing it in light. If Twilight had to guess, you could see the blast from Manehatten. "Twilight, Twilight...d-don't leave me. Please." Celestia pleaded to the heavens, tears streaming down her face. She laid a gently kiss on the lips of the lavender double, tears splashing against its artificial skin, and trailing down its body. That was when Celestia looked closer. The artificial blood that spell creation bled was not entirely red, it had a violet tinge to it, a result of Twilight's magic. That, and the lips she had tenderly kissed, which normally tasted of vanilla and lavender, tasted like warm ash, and ice. Slowly, Twilight crawled from under the bed, and was immediately enveloped in the warm embrace of Celestia. "You're alive!" She muttered, burying her face into Twilight's chest. "I know Celly, if Flash hadn't warned me..." She trailed off, as the castle staff began removing the blood stained sheets. She gently squirmed out from other the large Alicorn's body, groaning. "We have to make Gallant and the others," She showed her scrying recording to Celestia, who growled. "think they succeded. I'll write a letter to my friends and family to let them know I'm alive." She quickly began gathering materials. "I've have to go dark, disguise myself. If I can try and get the reforms passed, then we can have some unity, and nab them when we know who else was part of the plot." Maybe she had been reading to many mystery and spy novels, but it was all she had to go with. "After that, would we reveal you're alive?" Celestia asked, sitting on her haunches. Twilight nodded, as her horn glowed dimly. Her coat began to change color, turning from the beautiful lavender Celestia loved, to a lush forest green. Her wings slowly, but surely, became invisible, starting at the tips, and descending, until she looked like any old Unicorn. Her mane gained a bit of a curl at the end, and the part closest to her face became curled as well, turning into a fiery red color, with a light yellow highlight. Using a bit of illusion magic, and some quickly colored paper, her Cutie Mark changed to that of a rolled up scrolls interlaced with a quill. "Though I prefer your usual look, this should work Twily." She nuzzled her marefriend. "Thanks Celly, and, when we're in public, its Forest Scribe." Twlight smiled, then turned to the simulucrum of herself, its forelegs folded over its chest, as if in prayer. "Well, I guess we should prepare "my" funeral, but first..." Grabbing a fresh quill, parchment, and some ink, she began writing notes to her friends, her parents, her brother, Cadence, and anypony else she deserved to know the truth, that she was alive, but not to tell a single living soul outside of each other. Smiling, she gave the letters to a Flash, who promised to deliver them. "Hmm, I'll need a cover story." She thought aloud, as some of the guards began carrying "her" body to the Royal Mortician, a mare by the name of Quick Stitch, a former seamstress. Twilight breathed a sigh of relief, "Well, since I won't be using my old chambers for some time, can I sleep with you?" She asked coyly. Her curled tail swayed against the floor. Celestia chuckled, "Of course "Forest." She winked, as the two trotted to Celestia's bedchambers, hoof in hoof. Meanwhile, in Blueblood Manor, Prince Blueblood and a few of his noble friends were toasting, to a plan carried out, an assassination successful. At least, that's what they thought.
II-A False FuneralRain fell hard on the "funeral" of Princess Twilight Sparkle, as if the heavens themselves were mourning. The parents of Twilight, Night Light and Twilight Velvet, as well as the Bearers of the Elements, Spike, Twilight's adopted little brother.Shining, Cadence, as well as a few others were garbed in black, a dark velvet band wrapped around their right forelegs. Though each wore an expression of sorrow as they gazed at the glass encased body of "Princess Twilight Sparkle", every so often they would shoot a small smile at the forest green "adviser" of Celestia, for they knew the truth. Celestia cast a knowing look at Twilight, or as the world knew her now as, Forest Scribe, before trotting up to the podium, on which a small microphone rested. She cleared her throat, her face a mask of mourning, as she took a small sip from her glass of water, which sat near her. "My dear citizens, last night, a group entered the bedroom of Princess Twilight Sparkle, and murdered her in her sleep." A few ponies sniffled at this. "From what I am told, they sought not her demise, but the demise of her dreams of harmony with the other nations, and allowing non-nobility say in the government" She felt warm tears run down her face, the salt licking against her lips. "Today, on this dreary day, we commemorate her, here, in the Garden of Remembrance, where all my previous students that have passed on have been laid to rest. May the Maker watch over her." She stepped off the platform, her hooves clopping against wood and stone. "May the Maker watch over her." The attendants repeated, saying a silent prayer. A few of them left, trotting back to their jobs or homes, leaving only the family of Twilight Sparkle, and her close circle of friends left. Twilight stared at "her" body, the illusion a permanent one, well, it would run out in a few years, but still. Twilight Velvet trotted up to her disguised daughter, a small smile on her face. "This must be so surreal Twily, attending your own funeral?" She chuckled lightly, happy her daughter was alive and well, as she hugged her now green furred body. Twilight nodded, "It is mom" She ran a hoof down the glass casket, inches away from the simulicrum's slightly cracked horn. "You know, maybe, if you and the others ever wanna hang out in the palace, maybe I can drop this disguise, just then." She winked, as her mother nuzzled her. "Thanks sweetie, and, I have good news!" She patted her belly, which caused a smile to break out on Twilight's face, and her eyes to glow with excitement. "Yup, I'm pregnant Twily, you can thank your father for that." she smirked at her husband, who had a look of pride on her face. "Well, we have to get going, remember to write." She linked hooves with her husband, and began to trot back to their home. Shining and Cadence likewise bid their farewells, because they had duties in the Empire, and Cadence was pretty tired from the teleport over. Quickly hugging the disguised Princess Sparkle, they began making their way to the train station, their tails and hooves intertwined, Cadence's head resting on her husband's shoulder. Her friends had chatted for a short time with the disguised Alicorn, then quickly left. Fluttershy and Rainbow's wings her interlocked in a wing embrace, as they departed for their shared home, Fluttershy's forest cottage. This left Twilight and Celestia, standing under a rain splattered tarp, where before them lay the dead doppelganger of Twilight Sparkle, her hooves crossed over her chest as if in prayer. Alternating flowers of different colors ringed the glass. ¨Well, I guess we better go. I am supposed to be dead after all, and we have work to do.¨ Twilight said, tapping the glass. ¨Of course sweetie.¨ Celestia gently pecked her marefriend on the cheek. As the rain fell around them, Twilight cast a thin shield spell around them, as a sort of magical umbrella. The rain dripped on and down the nigh invisible barrier of magical energy, leaving thin trails, which quickly dissipated against the field. Together, hoof in hoof, the duo left the garden. Twilight Sparkle may be dead to all save a close few, but Forest Scribe lived. Under this persona, Twilight could only pray to bring her hopes and dreams of peace to fruition. It had been a little over two weeks since "Twilight's" funeral. Alongside being an adviser to Celestia, Twilight had taken on the role of being Celestia's personal hoofmaiden, so that she could stay close to her marefriend. Flash and Sunset, being the closest in proximity to her, would often stop by. Celestia, keeping up the guise of a lover and Princess in mourning, often refused to speak about Twilight when she was brought up, or deflected the question entirely. Whenever her Council sent a new law for her to look over, Celestia would have Twilight, or as the world knew her as, Forest Scribe, check it over with her, and give her advice. Thankfully, Twilight had read up on legal terminology and the like when she was still learning on how to be the Princess of Friendship. Such an occurrence had found the two in Celestia's room. A crackling fire blazed in the chiseled stone hearth. The door was locked, twin guards stationed outside. The guard's armor had been set to "Defense Mode". In place of their normal, often ceremonial mode, their armor now covered the entirety of their bodies. The normally thin magical protection barrier around their armor was now strengthened significantly. Their mana-spears were freshly sharpened, the stun lasers they could fire had their efficiency boosted by at least ten percent. Slung across their backs were mana-launchers, polished steel crossbow like devices, that when cocked, would fire bolts of magical energy. The type could be changed at the flick of a switch. The two were alert, gazing at each and every point of entry into the hallway. "So, what law are we going over now Celly?" Twilight asked, sipping a cup of warm cocoa, marshmallows bobbing in the liquid. Celestia smiled slightly, and levitated a rather large parchment infront of her. Twilight quickly grabbed a quill, and a fresh pot of ink, and set them next to the bill. That was when she noticed the name of the requester. "Hmm, what could Blueblood want?"
III-Scholary QuestionsIt has been a little over a month since the funeral of "Twilight Sparkle.". By now, "Forest Scribe" was one the main topics amongst the other advisors of not only the Councilors, but also by some of the junior Celestian scribes. Their senior members, those directly under Forest, were told the truth in due time. While two of the five had been opposed to the idea of non-Equestrian races taking a place amongst society, the other three were quite accepting of the idea. All five, under a binding oath to serve the Princess, agreed to keep the fact that Twilight Sparkle still lived under wraps. Forest's hooves clacked against the tiled floor. She had just gotten a field report from acting Captain of the Royal Guard, Flash Sentry, her ex, about some bandits in the northern Dragontail Mountains. From what the recon teams had gathered, they seemed to be a joint coalition of Unicorns, and Minortaurs. As Celestia's personal advisor/hoofmaiden, and with all the senior guards running drills, it had fallen on Twilight's shoulders to deliver the message. That, and with all the errands she had to run, with some of the...rather odd demands from a few of the more eccentric nobles, such as Lord Morning Wood wanting permission to expand his mansion on top of a public pool situated next door, she was tired as Tartarus. "So, who exactly is this...Forest chick anyway?" A smooth, creamy voice asked. Twilight turned, just as she was about to exit the scribe's quarters. Sitting around a table were three Junior Scribes, a Griffon, a Changeling, and a Dragopon, a half-Pony, half-dragon offspring. Twilight wracked her brain, trying to remember their names. The Griffon, his name was Wind Cutter, the Changeling, her name was Ichorous, and the Dragopon, if memory served, was Drel'Kas Stone, Drel'Kas being the Draconian word for Burning. Should I speak up? Twilight asked herself, glancing at the reports nestled in her magic, and then back to the assembled group. "You mean aside from being Celestia's personal hoofmaiden?" Ichrous smirked, her eyes smokey. "I don't think any of us or our superiors have actually asked." She placed her head on her chin, humming in thought. Her insectoid wings buzzed every so often, breaking up the relative silence of the group. "Actually," Drel'Kas piped up, sipping her juice, "Councilor Iron Wood apparently asked Princess Luna when she was about to pass by him in a corridor earlier today." The other two turned to face the Dragopon, who was the apprentice to Iron Wood's half-sister, Sand Bagger. "So, the official story is that she's some bastard filly of Lady Lichen Scribe." The Scribe family, of which Twilight had taken part of her pseudonym from, were an offshoot family of the main Sparkle Clan. Lichen was her father's cousin, twice removed from their mother's will before she was reinstated. They were a well known family of clerks and financial advisers. The Lichen and her husband were on good terms with Night Light and Velvet, and had vowed to keep Twilight's secret safe. Lichen's husband, a dragon by the name of Vass'Ectomy Scribe, had used his abilities as a lawyer and former signature inspector to falsify and plant records of "Forest" as a child born out of wedlock. "Heh, figures." Wind said, popping a small chunk of freshly cut Neigh York style steak down her beak. Ichorous glared at her, as that bit had come from her plate. Wind rolled her eyes as Ichorous pulled her plate further away from the griffon. "You know, I bet she bribed or banged the princess for that position!" Drel spat out his juice, coughing hoarsely, as he locked his thighs together. "Think about it, some filly popped out of some illicit relationship Lady Lichen had, becomes the personal hoofmaiden to Celestia, that's the only way she could get in that high!" She guzzled her milk down, slamming the cup back down onto the table. "Maybe Princess Luna or Cadence recommended her?" Drel brought up, clearing his throat. "I mean, with how depressed, and rightfully so, Princess Celestia was, having somepony to listen to would have helped immensely." He finished his plate, the cutlery clattering onto the well made porcelain plate. The other two glanced at eachother, and shrugged. The three scribes resumed a normal conversation. Meanwhile, Twilight Sparkle, as she was known to all but a few now, Forest Scribe, slipped out of sight. She still had to deliver these reports. The thick door to Celestia's personal chambers slowly swung open. Plates with flecks of food and cake on them were neatly piled in a corner. Celestia was laying on a cushion, a copy of some Neighponese manga propped open before her, Her well toned flank was facing the door. Twilight mentally snickered, and gently plucked a quill from the nearby table. As quietly as she could, she tickled the solar monarch's flank with the feather. Celestia squeaked in surprise, and burst into laughter. Twilight chuckled, dropping the feather. "Here are the reports, Princess Celestia." She said, gently setting the stack of papers onto Celestia's desk. Here they could relax, away from the politics and petty squabbles of the nobility. She sat across from Celestia, who had calmed down by now. "You know, sometimes I wonder how you keep your hooves off me during meetings." She teased, dropping the Pritish accent she had adopted for her role as Forest Scribe. She plopped down on a nearby pillow, smiling. She cracked her joints, letting out a sigh of relief. Celestia giggled, her self-developed mask of regal perfection falling away to reveal the mare beneath the title of Princess. "Ah, it is quite a challenge "Forest" she said, removing her regalia. Her golden aura levitated them over to a specially made case, where anypony who was not Celestia or her sister, and it could detect any and all glamour based spells, would find a rather nasty shock awaiting them. She never slept with it on. "I've often fantasised of having you just drop the disguise during a meeting so we could cuddle. It would stave off the boredom." She chuckled, as the sound of rain splashing against the windows of the castle could be heard. Her eyes roamed to the clock. "It seems its almost time for bed." She got up, combing her mane. Twilight followed suit. Soon, the two mares were snuggling up together in bed, Meanwhile, in Blueblood Manor.... As Sir Amadeus Blueblood and his staff slept quietly in their chambers, a small light flickered in the bedroom of one Prince Blueblood, heir to the noble House of Blueblood. In his hoof he held an orichalchum dagger. This rare mineral, which one could only be found in a sparse few mines, or on fallen meteors, was one of the few things that could harm an Alicorn, or one of the minor Spirits, such as Discord . Princess Celestia and Luna had made it so any and all found would be under careful survelliance by top smiths and guards, all deposits were to be immediately reported to any of the princesses, with an added reward of around 500 bits per deposit. Blueblood didn't really had a need for it now. Its purpose had been served. It had taken him weeks of careful planning, and maneuvering the seedy underground of the black market to even acquire this exquisitely crafted blade. It's dark green, glass like surface reflected the light of the small table lamp he possesed. It was a trophy, and when his children were born, he would show them the blade that had kept any peasants or foreigners from stealing jobs from hard working Equestrians. He switched off the light, and hid his prized dagger, that he had lent to his comrade the night of the assassination, in a hollowed out spot beneath his bed. He fell asleep, dreaming of tomorrow.
IV. Hidden Knives, Hidden RegretsThe Royal Gardens, one of the most peaceful locations in the entire castle. Celestia and Luna would often come here to think, be alone from the politics and age old feuds of the various noble families. On this warm, summer night, the garden was quiet, save for the chirping of crickets, and the soft clanking of the ebony infused steel boots of the Night Guard. The Nightcore Regiment, comprised primarily of vamponies, were on their rounds. One of their number, a half Zebra, half Earth Pony mare turned when she heard the faint sound of unarmored hooves. She quickly turned, her spear's tip glowing. Alongside being a melee weapon with good reach, the spears of both the Day and Night guard were enchanted so they could fire a beam of magical energy, where it could be set to lethal or stun. She turned to find a familiar, infamous among the castle staff, noblestallion, facing away from her. ¨Prince Blueblood?¨ Ebony Hawk asked, surprised. She cocked her head, ¨What are you doing out here at this hour?¨ She asked Celestia's many times great nephew. Blueblood's ears perked up when he heard Ebony's voice pierce the relative silence of the gardens. He quickly spun around, his blonde mane swishing behind him. He put on an insulted expression, one he used often. ¨I am merely taking a stroll. I couldn't sleep well, not since....the incident.¨ He said, his tone even. He used all the breathing exercises he learned during a diplomatic meeting to Sri Lama to calm both his breathing, and his heart from beating too quickly. ¨I believe you have rounds to be completing guardsmare?¨ Ebony merely nodded, holding in all the things she wished to say to the pompous prince. ¨Then do so.¨ Ebony turned, and went back to her rounds. Prince Blueblood exhaled sharply, wiping his brow. He turned, and trotted to a secluded part of the garden, his sole saddlebag jiggling slightly. The prince found what he was looking for. It was a large hedge in the shape of a horseshoe. A large redwood tree created a natural umbrella from rain and heat alike. A bench sat in the middle of the horseshoe, facing the hoary tree. He ran his manicured hoof over the smoothed surface of the ancient stone bench. Turning around, he slowly sat on the bench, setting the saddlebag on his lap. ¨Time to business then.¨ Blueblood said to nopony in particular. His horn lit up, as the clasp on his bag, the Blueblood family crest, came undone. He opened the bag, revealing a single object occupying the finely tailored saddlebag. He held the object in his magical grasp, and slowly slid a bit of the dark cloth away, revealing the gleaming metal of a thin blade. ¨I have to bury you.¨ He said to the knife, one of many that had ended in the life of Princess Twilight Sparkle. The assassination had occupied his thoughts for some time now. It gnawed at the edges of his psyche like a parasite. With that, had come pangs of guilt, which he quickly drowned with the company of some of the finest mares bits could afford, and by focusing on his work on Celestia's Council of Lords. Blueblood stood up, the blade floating behind him. It spun slowly, like a sharp top. He bent down, focused on a patch of earth by the tree, in between two thick roots. Using the training given to him by the best tutors his father could get him, he could focus his magic on more than one object, The ground lit up, as clumps of cold earth rose up, and landed in a neat pile beside the growing hole, His breath caught in his throat as he beheld a lockbox. He gentley pulled it out of the ground, and opened it. It had never been locked. His eyes gazed at its contents. They were all from his days as a foal and a colt, when he had been carefree, with Celestia playing games with him, carrying him around. He wiped the tears from his eyes before they even formed. There was a sack of bottlecaps, his emergency currency stash for when, and if, the friendship megaspell bombs ever fell. They never did, but he had been prepared, alongside that were various other items, photos of him in various ¨cutesy¨ outfits, riding on Celestia's back while he was dressed in a sailor suit, and many more. One showed his sixth birthday party. A faint smile came to the prince's face as he recalled the happy memories. Seventeen Years Ago A young Blueblood smiled, as he blew out the small flames on the six candles adourning his cake. Hooves were heard applauding the birthday colt. His mother, Sparkling Wine embraced him. ¨Happy birthday Blueblood.¨ She smiled, pecking her son on the cheek. He had giggled, and returned the hug, or as much as his young forelegs could. His father, Amadeus, looked at the duo, never smiling. He rarely did, and rarely gave compliments to his son. It was always commands, or criticism. His father had always said he was part of a proud legacy that dated back to the Long Night, when the brainwashed Wendigo legions had went into a bloody, three year war with Equestria and the neighboring lands, when winter lasted for three years, blanketing the nation in cold and depression. How it was through the efforts of Clover the Clever's newly made spell, coupled with a little help from the...¨mud pony¨ Crystal Heart, were they finally able to drive the Wendigoes back to Jotunheim, and restore the true king, Fimbulvetr, back on the throne. ¨Happy birthday Blooey.¨ Celestia smiled, trotting over to her nephew. Blueblood had grinned, and glomped his aunt's neck in a heartbeat. Blooey had been a nickname young Blueblood had come up with, since he had detested, at that age, having a word like ¨blood¨ in his name. ¨What ever happened to those days?" Blueblood whispered, running a hoof across the picture. He was so innocent, so...happy. He sighed, choking back tears as he placed the items back into the box. He gently laid the dagger inside, and closed the box. ¨I'm sorry.¨ He said, placing the box back into its hiding place. But, he wondered, who was he apologizing too. Was it Princess Twilight, the mare who he had conspired to murder? Or was it his younger self, that playful colt that was always smiling, always laughing? He sighed, burying the box once again, albeit quickly, sloppily. He stood up, fixing his mane. He ran his hoof across his cheek, finding the remnants of a tear. With one last glance at the tree, he turned, and trotted back to his chambers, head bowed low.
