It was the heart of summer in the land of Equestria, and as Celestia's golden light shone warm and bright over all that was known, a foul wind rose on the outskirts of Ponyville.
The wind was an aberration; a tainted whip of frost that bore the undeniable stench of chaos. Everywhere the wind touched small things decayed and died. The sweeping grasslands to the west of town withered to a sickly mustard hue, and the orchards at Sweet Apple Acres shed both fruit and leaves, which tumbled to the earth in a rotten deluge. Even the decadent woodlands known as the Everfree Forest seemed to shy away from the infectious wind, sentient branches curling inwards and all the unholy critters scampering into burrows or fleeing into the deepest, darkest thickets.
Fluttershy didn't know where the wind had come from, but she knew it wasn’t natural.
She and all of her animal friends had come together for their rescheduled bookclub to discuss Wuthering Hooves. Their last gathering had been interrupted when Fluttershy's Cutie Mark had started glowing, summoning her to Twilight's Castle for an untimely adventure. A month had since passed, and after Countess Coloratura's concert in Ponyville, and the unprecedented return (and reparation) of Starlight Glimmer, only now had Fluttershy been able to secure a day with Angel Bunny, Harry the Bear and all of her other animal friends.
When the wind shook Fluttershy's Cottage—mere minutes into their bookclub—all of her animal friends scattered. Birds flew for the eaves. Squirrels and mice darted into dark openings. Harry tried to hide under Fluttershy's throw rug, and once his eyes were covered, he seemed totally oblivious that most of his bulking form still remained visible. Even Angel could sense the ominous miasma slamming into the cottage, and he hopped into Fluttershy's long, pink hair.
"Oh my, what's wrong?" Fluttershy gasped. She dropped her copy of Wuthering Hooves, and it hit the floorboards with a baleful thud. She spun around on the spot, seeking out the hiding places of her various animal friends. "What has you all frightened out of your wits?"
Angel pulled two lengths of her pink hair apart like a pair of drapes. He peaked his head through far enough so Fluttershy could spy him in her peripherals. His usual dominate facade was gone, replaced by a tentativeness Fluttershy had rarely seen on the rabbit. He communicated with wild gestures, motioning to the windows and making fluttering motions with his little paws.
"The wind?"
Angel Bunny nodded.
Fluttershy cocked her head and listened to the low howl that cascaded around her cottage. Now that she focused, she could definitely sense something strange lurking in the afternoon breeze. As for what that something was, she couldn't guess.
"You don't think the Everfree Forest is invading again, do you?" Fluttershy said, her tone dropping into disconcerted beats. She lowered her head and her ears drooped. She suddenly had an urge to duck under her bed and cover herself with a blanket until the wind faded.
Angel Bunny shook his head. He made more silent motions, and a burgeoning gesture like a sprouting flower.
"You think somepony is causing this wind?"
Angel Bunny nodded again, self-assured, then ducked back into the thick of her hair.
"But who would do that?"
For an instant Angel Bunny emerged, his ears erect and his face twisted into a cruel visage. Then he shrunk away, pulling Fluttershy's hair back into place.
"No! He wouldn't."
Fluttershy put a hoof to her muzzle. She was shocked. It couldn't be as Angel Bunny feared, it just couldn't! There had to be some other explanation ... but if Fluttershy had to put her bottom bit on a culprit, she would have to side with Angel Bunny. All of the evidence was around her.
She looked out her window and saw the verdant countryside paling before her eyes; the effervescent colours scarred by a monochromic tint. Even her garden suffered, her beautiful flowers wilting, shrivelling, dying.
A lump formed in her throat. If this precipitous decay was what Fluttershy feared, then she might be the only pony who could stop it. She would have to brace the wind and seek out her friend.
She would have to find Discord, and put a stop to whatever squalid sorcery he was conjuring before all of Equestria was tickled by the foul breath of the untameable beast.
She didn't have to search for long. Fluttershy found the towering draconequus on a nearby hillock, beneath a funnel of wind that had snared loose leaves, stray apples, enough branches to form three timberwolves, and what appeared to be half of Ponyville's daily mail. His slithering body was hunched over, and he rested his long, downtrodden face on a talon.
The wind grew more powerful the closer Fluttershy came to Discord. She had to claw her way through the spinning gale, which threatened to lift her off and toss her across town, but she dug her hooves into the dirt and held on, clenching her teeth and keeping her wings tucked into her back. She thanked herself lucky that she had forced Angel Bunny stay back at the cottage, or else he might have been whisked away. He hadn't wanted to stay behind, and she'd used the Stare on him three times without success, only prevailing once she informed her pet rabbit that she'd be going to deal with Discord directly.
She inched closer, climbing the small hill.
"Discord!" Fluttershy cried, though her demure voice was drowned out against the churning maelstrom.
Discord sat at the apex of the hill, uncaring and unchanged.
"Please, I need you to stop this!"
Once again the draconequus didn't respond.
Suddenly, a rare rage bubbled inside of Fluttershy. She thought of her animal friends cowering in her cottage, and all of the pets and critters of Ponyville that were no doubt terrified of this unnatural wind. Worst of all, she thought of those helpless creatures of the wild with no place to hide, and no one to hug them tight and tell them everything was going to be okay.
She planted her hooves in the ground, took a deep breath, and snapped.
"YOU'RE GOING TO STOP THIS RIGHT NOW, DISCOOOOOOORD!"
The sound of her voice, raw and volatile, cut through the wind and shattered the single funnel above Discord, who flinched and cast a worried gaze over his shoulder. Vagrant envelopes skipped lazily out of the sky as rotten apples splattered the hillside, one of which fell right for Fluttershy’s head.
She swatted the apple out of the way with a hasty slide of her hoof, expelling the last of her rage and immediately shifting back to her pleasant demeanour. She seemed surprised by her outburst, but not at all displeased with the results. If her tutorage under Iron Will had taught her one thing, it was that someponies deserved a teeny, tiny taste of an assertive tongue. It was certainly brutish, and totally unbecoming of everything that Fluttershy was, but she knew the power such outbursts could provide.
"Fluttershy!" Discord spat, gawking at the appearance of the lemon-coloured pony. "What are you doing here? Is Twilight too busy saving Equestria from some great evil again?" He raised his paw and talon and made all his digits dance rapidly in a mocking gesture.
"I came to you alone because I wanted to give you a chance to explain yourself," Fluttershy said, her voice passive once more, almost pained. "What were you doing, Discord?"
Discord brushed Fluttershy away with a tiresome wave his paw. "I was having some alone time, tending to my thoughts, trying to make sense out of the great, existential weave that is my mind." He snapped his head back to her and glared. "Or has her Great Majesty Twilight decreed that such alleviating acts are now forbidden in her Kingdom?"
"Look at what you've done."
Fluttershy waved her hoof over the disheveled landscape, littered with debris. A few lingering envelopes still flitted along, and in the distance at Sweet Apple Acres, Fluttershy could witness her friend Applejack cursing and bouncing up-and-down before the ruined orchards.
"If you ask me, I'd say it's an improvement."
"You know better than this, Discord," Fluttershy said, her tone brimming with disappointment. "Why would you cause such a mess? It's not right."
Discord paused. He looked down at Fluttershy, frowned, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I suppose I should apologise."
"Yes. You should."
"I didn't mean to do this. I have a lot of magic, Fluttershy, and when I get ... emotional," he said distastefully, "things can get a bit unstable. I've never had to worry about it before because discord was my name. These days, however, I guess I need to be a bit more careful." He lowered his head. "I'm sorry."
"That's okay." Fluttershy hovered in mid-air so she could place a tender hoof on Discord's shoulder. "It was just a mistake, nothing that can't be fixed. If you're upset though, you know you can come talk to me."
"You were busy with your bookclub today. I marked it on my calendar, and I didn't want to disturb you."
Fluttershy offered him a tender smile. "I wouldn't have minded. If you need me, of course I'll understand."
Discord returned the smile.
"Now, tell me what was wrong."
Discord's eyes dilated and he quickly cast his gaze aside. "Oh, that little thing. Well. It, um ... I just, had a bad dream."
"Oh, you poor thing." Fluttershy lowered herself to the ground again and regarded Discord with a scrutiny that was all concern. "When I have a bad dream, I wake up miserable, too. You just have to remind yourself that what you see isn't real, and if it's too much to bare, Princess Luna is always watching over us, and she will help you if you ask."
"This wasn't something our Princess of the Night could conquer. No. She may control the fabric of our dreams, but this was more than just a dream. It was a memory."
"A memory? You know you're not like that anymore, Discord. You don't have to be afraid of who you used to be."
Discord remained silent. Tears glistened in his eyes, and although he tried to hide his sorrow, Fluttershy reached out and caught his face, holding it parrallel to her own.
"You're hurting. Discord, please, tell me so I can help you," Fluttershy begged. She shared the pain pulsing in her friend's heart, and her own tears began to well up and overflow.
"It was a memory from before. From long before. Before I knew the power of chaos."
"What do you mean before?"
Fluttershy was bewildered. As far as she had ever known, Discord had been born as a perverse creature, whose only cause was to distort the balance. His transition to the light had been strenuous, on both himself and all those around him, but she thought it had been done by showing him the magic of friendship. It seemed utterly absurd that there had been a time before, that perhaps Discord had known about the other side of the coin and had still chosen the darkness.
Discord stared at Fluttershy, and their tears bubbled and took flight, floating away on the feathers of his uncouth magic. "Maybe it would be better to show you."
He clicked his talon, and the two of them disappeared in a brief flash of light. All they left behind were the few bubbles of teardrops that bounced along without rhyme or reason.
Fluttershy squealed as she popped back into existence and scuttled close to Discord's side., where she gaped at her new surroundings, bewildered and unnerved by the desiccated landscape.
They were in an ancient stone courtyard littered with rubble. All the masonry from nearby walls and towers had cracked and crumbled. Nowhere stood a single edifice in its original, unmolested form. The song of war had destroyed this once noble city, and the hand of time had worn away at all of the edges that remained. There was no greenery though. Not a single plant or weed grew from any crevasse, and the tranquil skies of Equestria had been subsumed by a ghostly vortex of blood and ash.
"We're are we?" Fluttershy gasped. She wondered idly if any critters had taken up nest in this forgotten structure, but even Fluttershy couldn't ignore the overpowering pressure of emptiness that seemed to loom behind every jagged shadow.
"This is Coltstantinople," Discord revealed. He waved a paw over the ruined city, as if unveiling a brilliance only he could see. “And this is where I was born."
"Oh. I—I've never heard of it," Fluttershy said tentatively. "Twilight would probably know about it though."
"No, she wouldn't."
"Oh. I see."
"It may surprise you, my dear Fluttershy, but Twilight doesn't know half of what she thinks she does. She only sees fragments. She barely knows anything about me. She barely knows anything about her beloved mentor for that matter."
"Celestia? What do you mean?"
Discord blinked. He tilted his head and looked up at a high tower, the highest that stood in the broken city, like the skeleton of a tree that had been struck by bolt of lightening. "This is her home, too."
"You knew Celestia before?"
Discord shook his head. "I didn't know her. Not like this." He motioned to himself with paw and talon. He was maudlin, and the grimace on his face was not without remorse. "I was not born as Discord."
Fluttershy's eyes shot open and her ears pricked into the air. She was speechless.
Discord sighed, as if he had anticipated such a stunned reaction. "I want to tell you everything ... If you'll listen."
"You know I will," Fluttershy said. She gripped his paw with her hoof, though she was more timid that usual. "I'm your friend, and I will listen to everything—anything—you have to say. As long as you promise me one thing."
He didn't hesitate. "Anything."
"You tell me everything and you leave what happened behind you. I don't want you to blame yourself. You're not who you used to be, not anymore.”
Discord tried to smile, but it buckled and turned into a sullen frown. "I suppose I should start with my name."
"Your name?"
"I told you, I was not born as Discord. I was not always a draconequus. I was a unicorn, and the Court Jester of Coltstantinople, once the largest city in the world. My name was Diamond Iscariot, and the things I did may well be forgotten, but they can never be forgiven.”
Chapter One: A Smile in the Dark
At the stroke of midnight a shudder rippled through the grand palace.
The ancient architecture groaned under the sudden stress. The birdlime between the stones crumbled as if pressed between mortar and pestle, and small fissures manifested sporadically. Royal portraits were tossed from the trembling walls, crashing and cracking on the floor, and revered statuettes toppled and shattered. For the length of twenty-three seconds, raw, unabated chaos wielded the sceptre of Coltstantinople.
Diamond Iscariot woke amid the madness. He blinked forcibly and rubbed at his heavy eyes to ward off the unnerving tremors, believing the violent oscillations to be nothing more than a lingering fragment of his dreams. When the shaking refused to cease, he cast a hasty spell of tranquility, though it similarly had no effect. It wasn’t until Iscariot heard the telltale shatter of glass above his head that he sensed something was wrong.
He snapped to full consciousness and pirouetted out of his bed, narrowly avoiding a hail of stained-glass shards that pierced the sheets. He breathed ruggedly and stared at the shards, then reeled his gaze up to the jagged hole in his window. The patterned image of Coltstantine I holding up the city with his fore-hooves had been substituted for a panoramic view of the city landscape, and as the last of the tremors faded, Iscariot watched in horror as one of the nearby spires slipped on its foundations and stumbled to the city floor, where it burst in a cloud of dust, stone and destruction.
"By the King's hooves!" Iscariot swore. His mouth hung agape and his teardrop beard dangled languorously. He picked himself up and darted to the broken window to assess the widespread damage.
The city below was in shambles. Beyond the rubble that littered every street, the very bedrock of Coltstantinople had fractured, and the earth itself had risen and fallen in bitter slices. Although the royal guard was already on the scene, tending to the injured and warning stunned ponies away from precarious structures, Iscariot knew that it would take all of the magic in the city to reverse the damage—and even then it might not be enough.
He trotted to the door of his disheveled chamber and poked his head into the hallway. The tumult was just as dire inside the palace as in the city streets. Where ponies weren’t darting back-and-forth, they were tending to the fallen treasures or simply sitting against the walls, thunderstruck by the devastation.
Iscariot reached out a hoof and seized the attention of a frantic guard dressed in sapphire panoply, which was broken and dented. He was out of breath and coated with a thick layer of grit.
"What happened?" Iscariot exclaimed.
The guard looked as Iscariot, his eyes wide and unblinking. He seemed in shock, and when he spoke, it was with a lateral vacancy, as if his body was here and his mind was somewhere else. "The Ottomare Empire. They've finally ... reached home."
Iscariot's heart leaped into his throat. He had had nightmares of this day. Perhaps every Coltstantinopian had shared in those same nightmares; of the day the Ottomare Empire cast the shadow of war over the city Iscariot and everypony else called home.
“Well, isn't that wonderful,” Iscariot muttered, and his words were numbed by fear and fatigue. “Is this a siege then? Do we make a stand?”
“We ... We think it's isolated. For now.”
Iscariot nodded and breathed a bray of relief. “Thank you. Take care.”
As the guard departed, Iscariot's horn sparkled. He summoned six small, rainbow-coloured balls from an overturned chest in his room and a large ball almost twice the size of himself. He performed a backflip and landed on the large ball, then promptly began juggling the other six with his fore-hooves as he rolled into the hallway.
He was the court jester after all. If terror had gripped the city, it was his duty to alleviate that tension. He would perform for the crowd and make a clown out of himself, all so he might offer a few stray laughs. Sure, most of them would be superficial and without any real solemnity, but smiles were still contagious even if they were feigned, and eventually his burdened audience might even start believing the collected lie.
Besides, there was a certain therapeutic quality to acting the fool. It calmed Iscariot’s nerves and stilled the air around him. If nothing else, even if the charade failed to impress, like any great artist he was performing for himself and attempting to salvage his own sanity in this hour of madness.
He flipped and spun and juggled his way through the palace halls. He earned a few isolated chuckles along the way, though he attracted scowls more than anything else. In the main corridor, however, he only exacerbated the chaos when he executed an aerobatic technique, rebounding off one of the walls which collapsed under his weight, causing a chain reaction that saw the entire palace kitchen buried under a swamp of broken stone.
Before he had a chance to come to his senses and understand what he had done, Iscariot was instantly reprimanded by Brutus Ironhoof, Captain of the Guards.
“Get your foolish hooves out of here, Iscariot!”
Iscariot brushed himself off and lowered his head remorsefully. “I heartily apologise. I was only trying to improve the mood.”
“If you want to practice being a ballerina,” Brutus said, “go and dance in the ballroom. Leave the reparation to the real stallions, you idiot.”
A vehement cheer rose among the attending guards, who sneered and thrust spears and shields into the air. One protesting guard even tossed a bruised tomato at Iscariot, though it was easily deflected with a quick whip of air.
“I do have permission from King Cosmos to be where I think I am warranted.” Iscariot was prideful in his declaration, almost to the point of hubris. “You do not get to order me hither-and-thither, Brutus."
The Captain of the Guards stepped forward, his bulking, robust form almost eclipsing the gangly court jester. “Do not try and wave your authority around with me.” His voice was deep and cruel, and although Iscariot tried to stand tall, he was nothing more than a field mouse against the night hawk that was Brutus. “You're nothing but a joke.”
Iscariot rolled his eyes. “That's kind of the point.”
Brutus snapped and swung a hoof, which was enamelled with decorative platinum and bespeckled with jewels. He hit Iscariot smack in the muzzle, and the force of the blow immediately dropped the unicorn to the splinted tiles.
“Don't let me see you again tonight, or you'll regret it.”
Iscariot would have quipped back—it was in his very nature to counter chastisement with chastisement and he never backed away from a challenge, especially from a meat-head like Brutus Ironhoof—but his jaw was now bruised and swollen, and by the time he was able to form words through the throbbing ache, Brutus had stormed away.
He picked himself up and worked his mouth to gauge the damage, though it wasn’t anything serious and the blow hadn’t even drawn blood. He quickly realised, however, that he was being irreverently ignored by everypony present in the main corridor. The royal guard was working around him as if he was a piece of debris to be ignored for the time being, and all of the servants kept their eyes averted with acute disregard.
He frowned. He tried to break a conversation with some familiar faces, but it was evident that Brutus had left an infallible impression, and everypony thought it would be advantageous to follow by example. To top it all off, Brutus had even seen to have Iscariot’s rainbow-coloured balls pierced and deflated.
Iscariot didn't take it personally though. He knew how much pressure was currently piled on top of the Captain of the Guards, and the poor pony probably wasn't going to find a wink of sleep for the next few days, not until this incident was thoroughly cleared and the city’s security appropriately attended to.
Iscariot drew back into the shadows and skulked away from the main corridor. He passed other ponies who were busy cleaning or bandaging the injured, and while he offered a hoof a couple of times, his proposals were always ignored or he was simply dismissed.
He took to wandering the outskirts of the palace, idly inspecting the ruination of the proud city. He mused on the power that would have been required to mutilate the city so severely in such an isolated snippet of time, and the more he thought about it, the more he feared the pending invasion and the eradication that would follow. This perpetual war, which had been fought for generations—over a cause that had long-since been forgotten—was going to destroy Coltstantinople. He could sense it. The doom hung heavy in the air, like a blanket of humidity, and sooner or later the storm was going to burst.
And there was nothing he or anypony else could do about it.
He soon found himself traipsing through the Botanical Gardens. It broke his heart that even this slice of paradise had been throttled by the fingers of chaos. Trees that were tent times older than Iscariot had been uprooted, and soil, rocks and mud had been scattered all around. The lake itself had disappeared, having seeped away into a fresh crack in the earth. All the ornamental pillars dating from the time of the now-defunct Romare Empire—the very foundation stones of Coltstantinople—had also fallen, and many lay splintered and broken. Perhaps the only article in the Garden that remained intact was the stone bench, which stood on a pavilion overlooking the barren lake.
And sitting upon it was the Princess.
Iscariot stopped in his tracks, as if hitting an invisible shield. He had already royally annoyed the Captain of the Guards tonight, so he had no intention of interrupting Her Majesty’s peace and quiet. He turned and attempted to whisk away, but he caught his hoof on one of the fallen pillars then lost his balance, skipped ludicrously across the downslope of a knoll, and toppled straight into the empty basin.
It was the princess who saved him. Only inches from plunging into the marshy lakebed, she cast a spell of levitation, which surrounded Iscariot in a protective, glowing orb. He was then lifted out of the lake and dropped off on the pavilion where the Princess presided.
Iscariot kept his eyes low, as custom dictated, for he did not wish to offend her more. Only those of regal status were honoured enough to freely gaze into the eyes of either Princess—the two shimmering gems of Coltstantinople—and while Diamond Iscariot was respected within the grand palace, he was still stranded on one of the lower rungs of the ladder.
But she smiled at him, and although he couldn’t see, he could hear the glee in her voice. "I understand my father pays you to act foolish, Diamond, though I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself.”
“You know my name, Princess.” Iscariot was near-breathless. It was a great honour to be spoken to by a Prince or Princess in such a civil tongue; it was a sign of reverence to have either speak one’s name in casual conversation..
She giggled. "Look up.”
Iscariot obeyed. He raised his eyes slowly, following the contours of her shoulder and crest, mesmerised by her silky smooth coat, which was the colour of midday clouds. Her cosmic hair, floating freely as if caught in a breeze only the Princess could feel, was beyond conscious elucidation, and her eyes … those magnetic orbs of glimmering purple, and her dark, alluring eyelashes, they completely captured Iscariot and held him on the spot as if he’d been lassoed. Oh, he’d seen her plenty of times from afar, and when he performed for the royal family, he always watched her with ephemeral glances, never lingering long enough to arouse suspicion. To behold her at this distance, though, was simply sublime.
"I should not be so coy, Princess,” Iscariot said, his voice weak and tender.
“My father may disagree, though I prefer to look into the eyes of the ponies I speak to.”
She smiled heartily, and it melted Iscariot’s heart. He flushed a stark shade of red and his legs quivered so violently his knees almost clipped together.
"Would it be pretentious to ask you a question, Princess?” Iscariot asked, his words slow and nervous.
"It would not. And please, call me Celestia."
Iscariot would do no such thing! To call the Princess anything besides her title was to incite the wrath of the King, and far greater ponies than Diamond Iscariot had been sent to the dungeons for fraternising with the Princess of Coltstantinople. He would uphold all of the rituals and traditions as were to be expected of the court jester.
Those butterflies in his stomach begged to do otherwise though …
Iscariot cleared his throat, then excused himself for effectuating such a discourteous gesture.
The Princess smiled again. “What is your question?”
”Why are you,” Iscariot said, pausing mid-sentence to try and calm his nerves, “out here all alone?”
"My father wanted me out of the palace, in case there were any after-shocks."
"Is your sister—I mean the Princess Luna—is she okay?"
The Princess nodded. “My sister will be fine. She doesn't sleep in this realm."
Iscariot cocked his eyes, though he didn't query further. Unless the Princess desired to explain, it would be considered rude to try and excavate an answer.
"Do you know what happened?"
"The Ottomare Empire has evidently learned to control the elements," the Princess said with an air of defeat, "if only one of them. Our forces are continuing to wage war in the Western Lands, but if they have tapped into the elements, all it will take to destroy our city is a few rogue sorcerers."
Iscariot swallowed. "Is that what happened tonight?"
"No, tonight we believe only one sorcerer attacked us. This was nothing more than a test, to gauge our weaknesses and to measure the strength of their newfound power."
Iscariot was speechless. One sorcerer was able to break Coltstantinople? It couldn't be. The devastation was so widespread, so absolute … but if the Princess was right—if the Ottomare Empire had tapped into the elements themselves—it could spell the end of not just Coltstantinople, but the entire world could be swept away under such volatile power.
"That's very unsettling news, Princess."
"Which is why you're going to be a very important asset for morale over the next few weeks."
Iscariot blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
"When the night is darkest, Diamond, we all need to remember how to laugh."
Iscariot bowed respectfully. ”I'm honoured that you have such a high opinion of me, though I think Captain Brutus and his men do not share your enthusiasm."
The Princess cocked her head and grinned. It was a mischievous grin, something he’d expect to see in a mirror, not on the Princess herself. It was so unbecoming of her that Iscariot almost burst out laughing.
"I'll handle Brutus,” she said with a scintillating twist to her words, “and you keep doing what you do best."
Iscariot didn't believe her. He figured the Princess was making a joke on his behalf, and he didn’t mind so much. He existed for that reason. He was the court jester, a joke unto himself, and if the Princess could draw humour from him—in whatever way she saw fit—he considered himself still valuable. Yet when Iscariot saw Brutus the next morning, the bedraggled Captain of the Guards actually saluted and bowed his head before Iscariot. His entire retinue followed the Captain’s lead, and for every bemused word that Iscariot muttered, four-dozen soldiers chuckled and bellowed as if someone was tickling them behind the ear.
Although he knew he should have been appreciative, Iscariot couldn’t help but feel terrified by the turn of events. When the King called an emergency council to discuss the recent attack, for which the court jester’s presence was also required, Iscariot absolutely believed his encounter with the Princess would be held to the question, and he’d then be banished to the dungeons for the remainder of his life.
But at least it would give everypony something to laugh at for a while.
