Location: Canterlot
9 Days after Conquest of Canterlot

Canterlot, King Dainn found, was beautiful day or night despite battle damages. The last fires in the residential districts were quenched, coinciding with the end of regulatory celebratory feasts. Marble edifices shined in the sun and gleamed under moonlight, while golden rooftops caught and spread the light. Day and night, repair teams moved throughout the city, repairing blemishes to Equestria’s crown jewel, the city of light-Dainn’s true prize.

Equestria itself was without value-the workable population and resources alone made it worth twice as much as the Empire’s western provinces in Albyon, but Canterlot represented everything Dainn sought: wealth, power, beauty beyond belief, a reservoir of knowledge big enough to sate him, and a new power base outside the petty quarrels of his fellows back in the fatherland.They’d come sniffing around, eventually-in fact, he was certain King Leif was scrambling for his own army to stake his claim on the new world, but that was a concern for later.

With the establishment and integration of Equestrian and Caribou administrative centers and systems-which was still a work in progress-Dainn had decided to open up Day Court. Partially, he wanted to get a grip on what the local nobility were like, see up close what he was going to be dealing with on a daily basis for the next few years. Moreover, he wanted to establish a sense of normalcy in the populace and show himself to the citizens as an approachable and benevolent king. As much as he was loathe to admit it, Celestia had gotten that part of her rule down; prior to indoctrination, most Equestrians had genuinely loved her. His neuromancers were still arguing over why, particularly Agnar’s circle, but the fact remained and he should emulate her in this regard to maximize his rule.

After a simple private meal of oatmeal and honey, Dainn entered the throne room at 8:50. The damaged masonry from the Guard’s last stand had been repaired, mangled bodies removed, and all the stained glass windows repaired with temporary clear glass: Dainn had commissioned multiple Caribou and Pony glass makers to make replacements. The golden throne sat at the end of the room, staring down the massive doorway. Caribou elite guards, most in inscribed full platemail armor, wielding traditional runic reinforced halberds while pony guards in golden, heavily enchanted armor stood on the right proudly. Most had spears, but that weaponry was secondary to the fact that most were unicorns, and their weapons were but the first layer of weaponry they had at their disposal. Behind him followed a small, brown furred caribou stag named Birger.
Unlike other Caribou in his assault forces, Birger was a decidedly short, modest Caribou dressed in the white and silver robes common in the far northern reaches. A civilian rather than a soldier, Dainn had hired Birger on the street during one of the Barley Riots thirteen years ago, saving him from the gladiatorial pits where he’d have been fodder for the masses. For some odd reason, Birger considered this worthy of a life debt, and had vowed to employ all his accounting skills in Dainn’s name. Ivangir had once objected to such a diminutive stag following Dainn, which led to the following exchange.

“Lord, how can you have someone like him follow you? He is fit for a paper office, but to be seen next to your greatness? It’s degrading and a mark upon your great name,” Ivangir asked, fuming at the aid by Dainn’s side. Dainn valued Ivangir’s ferocity, but knew Ivangir had stepped too far. Dainn would have to put Ivangir in his place.

“1,009 247 days, 3788- 178 days, and 10,045-3 years,” Birger spoke up.

“What?” Ivangir said. “ Dainn remembered settling back in his seat with a hidden grin.

“Those are the amounts of pendallions your father, your brother, and you personally owe to the crown, all easily over the 1000 pendallion minimum required for debtor's prison, and yours is five thousand over the enslavement limit, and one hundred away from the female conversion punishment dictated for exorbitant debtors. While your father and brother have the better part of a year to pay that off, you’re well due for a payment. You should watch how much your family spends, this knowledge could land you in a lot of trouble,” Birger said conversationally, clipboard and inkwell pen in hand.

The memory and Ivangir’s subsequent furious departure and shutting up for the next three months still made Dainn smile, but this smile held nothing on the the two cages flanking the throne. If Canterlot was a conquered monument to his glory and strategic center of administration, Celestia and Luna were his crown jewels. Beautiful by pony and Caribou standards, they offered appealing aesthetic appeal and represented his entire victory far more than the thousands upon thousands of coins and tons of silver jewelery his stags had looted across Equestria. Their enslavement had given him as much power as moving his armies into Equestria proper, perhaps as much as the Heart’s alterations had.

In one cage Celestia sat, forced to the ground by numerous chains and binding ropes that restricted her movement. Rope crisscrossed under her chest and between her legs, ensuring any movement brought stimulation. Luna, on the other side wore a similar bindings, but also had heavy shackles around all four limbs, and the ropes were replaced with chains in addition to a muzzle. Both sisters had arms tied behind their backs, and were locked into positions that put their body on display. Black wing covers he hoped would be red in the next year covered their wings, while their horns were nothing more than polished stubs, the line of veins, arteries, and nerves long since severed, coagulated, dried, from the bloody stump it had once been

By the glaze in their eyes, Dainn knew they’d recently been injected with a potent combination of intoxicants and aphrodisiacs; all a step towards breaking them. Despite this, Luna tracked his progress towards the throne with deep hatred, and a muffled growl came from her cage. A guard stepped in with a stun rod, but Dainn waved him off. She wasn’t a threat behind a cage and tied up as she was. They’d tried traditional disciplinary measures with Luna; after her first escape attempt and nine injured officers, they’d moved to stun rods.

Celestia’s stare was more blank, although she acknowledged his presence with a slight turn of the head. Dainn was a bit perplexed at their continued defiance of Caribou authority and the natural order. It was a recurring problem with mares of this nation; the indoctrination only lightly touched their minds, unlike the stallions. He’d been told-repeatedly-that sculpting the minds of the stallions would be enough and structuring the spell for females was encountering unexpected difficulties, but all the same he hated leaving half the population’s pacification to traditional means. If nothing else, efficiency would drop far more than he wanted while resources were spent training them that could be better spent elsewhere.

Despite his victory well over a week ago, Dainn had yet to sit in Celestia’s throne; too much planning and organizing in between fitful bursts of sleep and shoveling food in his mouth had devoured his time. As such, he felt giddy on his way to the throne in preparation for Day Court. With a spring in his step, he took his place on the old diarchs’ throne.

Dainn promptly discovered the throne was beyond uncomfortable.

The seemingly soft velvet padding was paper thin, and disguised a hard, rigid surface covered in prickly points. The throne’s awkward proportions forced him into a rigid, attentive position. He stiffened as multiple needle like objects pricked pricked his thighs and buttocks with mild pain, nothing unbearable but more than enough to discomfort him constantly.

He hid his reaction well; neither his attendants nor the guards showed any indication of his discomfort. A sudden intake of breath drew his eye to Celestia. She stared dead ahead, her posture gave nothing away beyond the lewd appeal other Caribou and Pony stallions appreciated, but Dainn felt in his gut Celestia knew his discomfort and was laughing at him.

“My master, are you ready for the day’s judgements?” Birger asked, glancing over his clipboard and leaflet of papers.

“They can’t be worse than the nobility back home,” Dainn easily said as he tried and failed to find a comfortable position on the throne.

“I dearly hope so, shall I send for the first petitioner?” Birger asked, to which Dainn acquiesced.

The wide, golden doors at the end of the hall opened, and the guard at the door announced “Sir Gold Top and his brother Emerald Ring”. Two unicorns stepped in, dressed in fine silk suits. The left, likely Gold Top by his yellow coloration and black and yellow suit, walked in before the other gray furred Unicorn with green hair and a gray suit with green stripes up the pant legs. Between them, dragged by two leashes the brother’s held, was a blue colored mare. Her horn came to a sudden flat top an inch from her skull, the blood from the severed nerves long since dried and cleaned up. Blindfolded and collared, the two brothers dragged her into to the base of the room, her only haltingly able to follow and never fast enough for the two brothers, who themselves walked at different paces and kept pulling on her collar in sharp, jerking motions. She whimpered in obvious distress at the pulling, and tried to hurry to follow only for the other brother to pull on her leash back or forward to his position.

Dainn felt some small surprise at the distressed mare. Back in the homeland, black collar females were generally kept out of council and audience chambers entirely. Certain exceptions could be made-Celestia and Luna were evidence of that that-but most were beyond well trained, groomed females. This mare looked like they’d dragged her out of bed after a night of sex and if she weren’t blindfolded she’d likely be less than subservient. Curious as to the real business at hand, he waited for them to get close before starting,

They both bowed before him, and Gold Top spoke. “Your majesty. King Dainn the glorious, conqueror of Canterlot, savior of stallion kind-

“Bringer of the truth, rectifier of the perverse-” Emerald Ring continued.

Dainn felt his eyebrows rising more and more as the titles bestowed upon him grew by the minute. He knew he’d be showered with praises praises, and he liked a few of them- the Great and Powerful particularly appealed to him- but he’d been in Canterlot less than a month! How many titles and praises had they’d come up with? And how awful was the problem they wanted his judgement on?

“Bringer of cock dominance, glorious chef of true stallion equality-”

Thirty seconds of praises was the usual amount given to high officials, one minute to a king, two minutes to the emperor. This last detail pleased him inordinately, but this was getting ridiculous. They were at the 4 minute mark as far as he could tell and still hadn’t run out of praises. Also, why were so many of the praises related to penises? Had someone in his armies said he liked penises? He couldn’t think of any other reason for them to bring up cock so much.

“-and harbinger of the testicles of might!” Gold Top finished.

Dainn resisted the urge to say, “Are you done?” and instead inclined his head.

Gold top nodded rapidly. “My lord, ever since your glorious conquest, this problem has stirred and brewed, but I can no longer stand it! I demand a resolution to our dilemma!”

“I concur!” Emerald Ring said.”The present situation is absolutely intolerable.”

“And your dilemma is?” Dainn asked, glad the praises were over. Tomorrow, he was going to have a plaque placed outside with basic rules for audiences, one of which was a one minute limit on praises. Aside from the excessive penis oriented praises, the theatrics of his homeland’s nobility matched Canterlots, although he was eager to start solving the local nobility’s problems.

Back in the homeland, a lord entitled with dukedom and upwards in the hierarchy was required by ancient law to hear out key subject’s problems. These problems massively varied, as problems in life often do. Some were relatively mundane arguments. Two lords arguing over hunting rights in the forest splitting their holdings, and complaints of illegal logging and poachers. Others were quite serious: inheritance of both positions and holdings, murders, blood feuds, charges of theft, and such. One time a duke threatened large scale warfare against a fellow duke over convoluted line of rights to a productive silver mine in the Albion mountains. That had been a true test of his abilities to solve a conflict, and, while he hoped nothing so serious popped up this soon in his reign, he was eager to get see what Canterlot nobility valued.

“Your majesty, my slave, Sapphire Smarts, was in a relationship with me prior to your arrival, but Gold Top has contested my claim and demands she belongs to him!” Emerald Ring said.

“Liar! I have an equal claim! She belongs to me!” Gold top shouted, dragging her.

Emerald Ring snarled in disgust. “Do you see what idiocy I have to deal with? Please, tell this idiot brother of mine that she belongs to me.”

“No, she’s mine!”

Dainn resisted the urge to unleash a colossal sigh. His first petitioners were nothing more than children shouting “Mine!” over a slave of all things. “Have you considered splitting her in half?” Dainn asked, in what he considered a joking manner. As brothers, they could easily share her. They’d have to keep track of progeny, of course, but noble brothers should pool resources, rather than fight over something so mundane as a female.

The brothers didn’t say anything for a few moments before slowly nodding genuine smiles spreading on their faces. “That’s an excellent suggestion your majesty!” GoldTop said.

“I concur! Wonderful, I wish we’d thought of this sooner. Tell me, brother, would you like the top half or the bottom half?” Emerald Ring said.

“I always did prefer a good mouth or pair of tits in my prostitutes, so the top, preferably.”

“Ah, excellent! I shall get her pussy and ass and womb I suppose. Shame it won’t be put to use, but such is life.” Emerald Ring said, good naturedly.

Dainn felt at a loss of words. Had these stallions lost their sense? “You do realize cutting her in half is lethal?” he said. He intended the words as a joke, as he realized these stallions had to be in a humorous mood.

“Of course. No known method can sustain a severed pony beyond a few seconds,” Gold Top said. “But,i do think I know some gentlecolts at the mausoleum who could assist with preservation.

Emerald Ring nodded. “And I know a few taxidermy specialist-very hush hush and subtle, a good company and they normally do wild boar and the like, but I’m sure they can figure a workaround.”

The mare, Sapphire Smarts, whimpered and cried.

Birger had dropped his pencil onto his clipboard by this point. Dainn could only stare. They were serious. A female’s life held worth, particularly a female of attractive qualities and breeding age, but older or unattractive females could be useful. Laborers, caregivers, farm workers-anything needing simple tasks, they could be used for to free up stags to work in other, more difficult jobs. To talk as if they fully intended to go through with sawing a mare in half. . .

Not even the specialty houses back in the capital allowed that, and those elderly or barren females were considered fully disposable.

“You must be kidding,” King Dainn said, voice tinged with disbelief. Something had to have gone wrong with the indoctrination. Maybe it had fried their brains, or maybe the neuromancers had screwed up with their sense of morality. They couldn’t be seriously considering cutting a mare in half and necrophilia to settle a dispute.

The brothers looked at him and back at each other, before, in unison, speaking, “We never kid regarding our sister, your majesty.”
“WHAT?”

Both brothers left fuming, but accepting of Dainn’s judgement. He’d ruled them unfit to care for Sapphire Smarts, and had claimed her with the compensation of 250 bits and added her to the castle household’s hordes of cleaning maids. Back in the homeland, Dainn in no way could have gotten away with claiming a female slave as his own, particular one born of “nobility”, but these were ponies. Caribou naturally came first, and Dainn had a particular waking nightmare of the two brothers successfully reproducing with their sister.

“Birger...is that the norm in this land?” Dainn spoke in a low tone once the audience hall was empty aside from him, guards, princesses, and Birger.

“Master, I can legitimately say I have no fucking idea. I know nobles can be an eccentric lot, but this was beyond anything I’d ever seen.

“Hopefully, the next isn’t as bad,” Dainn said as the guards admitted another pair of arguing stallions.

“What is the problem, gentlecolts?” Dainn asked after the two stallions, one green stallion and one brown stallion bowed.

“He stole my tulip bulbs and put them in his garden for the upcoming Canterlot Tulip Competition!”

“Please, you can’t afford tulips of that rarity and shade of red!”

Dainn stared at the two arguing stallions, and leaned over to Birger with a whisper. “Wine, goblet, now.”

“Of course, master,” Birger said, leaving Dainn behind.

One cup later. . .

“-it is my firm belief pears should be heralded as the ultimate fruit among all natural fruits and replace apples at every brunch-”

Two cups later. . .

“-all earth ponies should wear grade B size 12 clown shoes, color red-”

Three cups later. . .

“-and that is why all profits belong to the quill maker, and not the pegusi who donated the feathers in the first place-

Four cups later. . .

“As such, unicorns of sufficient blood strength should be exempt from any and all taxes-”

The last petitioner left the hall, visibly dejected at how his reasonable request to jail his neighbor for the audacity to let his tree grow one inch over the fence line had been rejected without further comment by the glorious King Dainn.

Dainn noticed his cup was empty, and he longed for another five or ten to make the afternoon fade away but knew anymore and he’d be on the road to inebriation. A motion in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Celestia still held in the same rigid, provocative pose, but he could swear she had looked bizarrely satisfied before her neutral mask etched itself back on. He couldn’t fathom why for a moment, but realized she knew. Regardless of how she dealt with it, these were the same stallions she’d faced, and it was his turn to suffer their apparent stupidity.

He pulled a standard issue stun rod from his belt, which he kept next to a long dagger with a silver edge gifted to him by his father the night before his suicide and beside a small incinedary orb guaranteed to reduce four unarmored targets to ash in 12.5 seconds. Not for the first time, he marveled at just how impractical the standard issue Mk Series 2 Stun Rod was. While the runes inscribed into the pointed, black metal were marvelous from a casual glance, the power required meant a charge would be entirely expended. It would take thirty seconds to recharge, drawing upon the magic core of its wielder. In a desperate situation, that draw could exhaust the wielder further. In those thirty seconds, it was little more than a short, pointed club
. A standard spear, a short sword, hatchet, devoted club or any number of crossbows or antiquated bows would be a more viable weapon, yet it was still standard issue to issue Mk 2 stun rods to all occupying forces for one specific reason: sheer, unholy, paralyzing pain.

He brought the stun rod down on on Celestia’s shoulder. For a split second she stared. She started screaming. The ball gag did nothing to hinder the sound as it pierced the hall. Several guards shifted slightly, as if in discomfort. The electricity coursed through her, alighting every nerve with pain. She lost control of her muscles and spasmed. Luna howled, and pulled at her chains to the point they dug into her flesh in bloody lines with spreading bruises, but they held. Celestia, despite the pain it must have caused her to go against the restraints, curled in on herself in twitching agony, muscles writhing and veins bulging as every muscle in her body contracted at once.

Under most circumstances, he wouldn’t have bothered to discipline her. That responsibility lie with her trainer Leug and his assistants. If they’d been alone, he wouldn’t have bothered and instead noted it as another peculiarity of her seeming intelligence, so far beyond the does of his homeland. However, she’d obviously taken pleasure in his own suffering in a setting among his guards and advisor. Someone aside from Birger (who surely noticed) , could have seen the slight smile she had in response to his lapse.
That unknown guard, pony or caribou, could spread the rumor. “Don’t you know? The slave sun princess laughs at the king! She is absolutely uncontrollable.” The damage to his reputation, as slim a possibility as it was, could be troublesome to outright deadly. Kings had been slain by ambitious lieutenants for far less a reason than an uncontrolled female, conquest prize or not.

Thirty seconds later, Celestia still spasmed, but her screams had subsided. From what he understood, that was an accomplishment, as most mares kept screaming for a minute. He idly considered stunning her again, but put his stun rod away instead. He’d made his point.

“So, that was an eventful Day Court. Do we have anyone else?” Dainn asked, hopefully. He knew he was going to limit appointments and have his officers screen the petitioners for relevant appeals, and not petty arguments over whose tree was in whose yard.

“Master, it’s only been three hours. You still have four to go.”

Dainn resisted the urge to sigh or run out of the room screaming. Instead, he sat back on the awful throne, buttocks and lower back sore as he awaited the next petitioner. Luna still howled, while Celestia was still aside from the slightest rise and fall of her chest.

Dainn’s ears went rigid at the sound of a commotion beyond the doors. Beside him, Birger stiffened and stared intently at the doors. The guards, first the Caribou and the ponies who followed their example tensed and drew weapons. A few unicorns horns ignited, and balls of flame coalesced in the air around several.

The second tallest being Dainn had ever seen stepped through the door. A guard in gold army-a pegusus-stood behind him, hands up as if ready to stop him but hesitant to approach something so huge. Further in the hall, Dainn would have felt his heart drop at over a hundred other nobles waiting for an audience, but the being occupied the majority of his attention.

It stood over seven feet tall, a full head taller than most of his stags and easily tall enough to look Dainn’s lieutenant Ivangir in the eye. His coat of gray fur was short, and thinned around the chest to gray skin beneath. Atop his head he had to sharp, pointed horns, making him seem larger than he was and large enough to rival the aged racks some elderly Caribou maintained. Most impressive of all was his rippling muscles. White tunic and black trousers or not, the muscles bulged out and, combined with its strong jawline, would make more than a few stags Dainn knew salivate.

Dainn felt an intense desire to see one of these in the gladiatorial pits back home, and decided he would find one to fight in the Equestrian pits once the Council sent representatives to establish the first pits in Equestria.

Before, Dainn had only learned of the beings in the Guide to Equestria provided in the libraries at the Crystal Empire. He now realized the books failed to do them justice, nor had the dossiers provided to by Shining’s agents.
The minotaur stared at the much shorter guards ready to eviscerate and burn him, and snorted. Dainn noticed the nearest guard’s halberd trembling in his hand, and realized he had to act before someone did something stupid.

“Now now, I do believe Ambassador Strong Arm has every right to visit me during Day Court,” Dainn said, loudly to his guards. An ambassador certainly had more right than the overfunded and overdressed children panicking outside, at least. “Stand down, and allow the ambassador through.”

Dainn felt a tinge of giddy excitement course through him. Dealing with an ambassador of a foreign nation and species was going to be an entirely new experience. While ambassadors weren’t entirely known to the Caribou, the only foreign ambassadors his people routinely interacted with were the eastern dragon enclaves. And those interactions boiled down to not jumping when anywhere from a hundred to a thousand showed up outside a major settlement with a declaration of a desire to trade out of absolutely nowhere. His people had gradually grown used to the mysterious traders who came and went as they pleased, outside a few isolated instances of armed conflict.

Giddy anticipation consumed Dainn because he was dealing with an foreign species to his own-sure, they were bipedal, but minotaurs were odd: half hairless, half furred, five fingered hands to the normal four fingered hands (for ponies and Caribou at least), massive horns, size matched only by adolescent dragons or the eastern one eyed giants, and more. Moreover, Strong Arm was his key to dominating the entire region from the frozen tip of the Crystal Empire to the far western reaches of Saddle Arabia..

Unlike his fellows back in the Republic of Minos, Strong Arm was exposed to the initial indoctrination pulse. While the heart, unfortunately, couldn’t be moved, its power to amplify neuromancy was unbelievable. If Strong Arm had been in the city, he’d surely fallen under the same indoctrination which brought all of Equestria’s stallions to Dainn’s side. Through the ambassador, he could get a hold of Minos’s other leaders, and his neuromancers could reeducate the Minotaurs into a subject state with a proper set of ethics.

Moreover, in dominating Minos, they would gain access to the reaches past the southern tip of Equestria and the straight between Minos and Equestria proper-gold, silver, and platinum from Saddle Arabia, exotic slaves and animals and spices from Zebrica, and the verdant fields of Maretonia.This was not to mention the mountains of iron and copper Minos harvested from its mountains every year. This was not even to mention securing the Minotaur population as subjects to the Caribou Empire.

Dainn had seen his people’s future in the new world, and he fully intended to make sure he was at the forefront in claiming it.

The minotaur shoved past the armored guard who had gotten ready to try and grab him, sending the pegusus sprawling to the ground if he hadn’t caught himself by fanning out as he caught himself. Dainn noted the hostility and aggression the minotaur radiated off, but explained it away as a racial trait. Most of his books were adamant on aggression in Minotaur society.

“Welcome, Strong Arm,” Dainn said pleasantly, finding the minotaur larger up close than he’d initially thought. “I apologize for the rough treatment my guards gave you, but if you must understand, you came unannounced and-”

“I stand before you on behalf of the Senate of Minos to declare our ultimatum!” Strong Arm said, loudly to the point most would consider it shouting.

Dainn could only stare, stunned at the interruption. He was used to equally ranked Caribou interrupting him in arguments and in private friends doing so, but never from one who was indoctrinated, and never from one of the lesser races. It wasn’t supposed to be psychologically possible in indoctrinated individuals.

“Nine days ago your people overran Equestria. An emergency session of the Minos Senate was called the day after, and Councilor Irons relayed the following demands,.” The minotaur pulled a cylinder from his shirt, unrolled a scroll, and began reading.

“1. All Caribou forces are to withdraw from Equestria.

1. Princesses Celestia, Luna, Cadance, and Twilight Sparkle are to be returned their positions within the Equestrian government, alongside any and all deposed officials.

2. All Equestrians enslaved by the Caribou are to immediately be freed.

3a. All mental holdings on Equestrian citizens are to be released, and further use of mental magics banned on territory belonging to Equestria, the Republic of Minos, or the Tribal Confederation of Zebrican States hereafter referred to as the Triple Alliance

1. The Caribou Empire is to sign a nonaggression pact with Equestria, the Republic of Minos, and the Tribal Confederation of Zebrican States.

2. The Caribou Empire is to pay reparations to Equestria in the form of 100,000,000 bits to the Triple Alliance for damage to the psyche and lost revenue in addition to damages sustained during fighting.

3. Failure to comply with any of these demands within two weeks of delivery on the third of Moonshine, Era of Harmony, or endangerment of official messengers shall result in the seizure of all foreign assets and a declaration of war with the Caribou Empire from all members of the Republic of Minos .

Strong Arm carefully rolled the scroll back up, back into its cylinder, and carefully tossed it at Dainn’s hooves.

Strong Arm looked to the wide eyed Celestia and Luna. “Celestia, Luna,”he addressed both, one at a time as he looked them in the eyes. “Hold on. You’ve long been friends to Minos, and we have not forgotten.” Strong Arm said, voice much softer and warm.

Celestia and Luna stared, wide eyed. Tears brimmed in Celestia’s eyes, while hope etched itself onto Luna’s face, alongside a savage glee in no way marred by the gags.

Strong arm looked back to Dainn. “Good day, sir,” Strong Arm said, putting enough acid into his tone to melt through steel.

Numb, Dainn watched Strong Arm march out of the hall, his heavy hooves resounding with each step. When he reached the massive doors, rather than wait for the guards to activate the lever to mechanically open it, he wrenched the door open with a horrific screech, casually displaying a level of strength few Earth Ponies ever matched and strength Caribou might find once or twice a generation.

“Master? What happened?” Birger asked

Dainn didn’t respond. Instead, he was rapidly coming to one inescapable conclusion.

Multiple things raced through his mind.

He’d counted on at least a month before a sluggish response from other nations. In part, this was because Equestria was a major power in the area, and to be taken over from within by the Caribou would be so shocking as to slow and discourage a hostile response. Dainn wasn’t naive enough to believe conflict wouldn’t arise, but ideally most other nations would be too hesitant to respond by the time the rest of the Caribou army and the indoctrination corps arrived and formulated plans of attack while also giving him time to consolidate his position in Equestria, incorporate its infrastructure into his own, and entrench his forces

That plan was dead.

Dainn was not a neuromancer himself, but knew most of the basic techniques behind their art. Other kings loved their gigantic ships, or beam batteries or runic knights or blood magics, but Dainn loved neuromancers for their, in his opinion, most useful ability: Indoctrination. Through manipulation of the mind, they could turn enemies on themselves, sow chaos in the ranks, learn valuable information, steal technology, craft perfectly loyal spies able to fit in among the enemy. Furthermore, an indoctrinated populace should be virtually incapable of revolt. Their love for the ruling Caribou would overturn any negative feelings outside periods of extreme duress, and thoughts of rebellion or outwardly hostile acts towards ruling Caribou should never enter their minds.

This process usually took a period of weeks to accomplish on a single individual, but the Crystal Heart had amplified the neuromancer core’s abilities a hundred fold, and enabled them to reach every pony in Equestria at once, and should have affected everyone regardless of species.

Strong Arm was not indoctrinated.

Dainn didn’t know how, or why, but he knew in his gut Strong Arm was not among their ranks. Discarding the extreme hostility Strong Arm displayed which he’d initially dismissed as natural Minotaur aggression, Strong Arm’s delivery of the ultimatum cemented his defiance. Had his indoctrination been complete, he would have mentioned the ultimatum but offered ways to circumvent and reeducate his people. He was in Equestria, and had by all reports been in the city when the indoctrination pulse from the Crystal Empire activated. Yet, he showed no signs of subservience-in fact, Dainn knew he’d have murdered all of them if given the slightest opportunity.

Dainn’s plans were dead. In their place, he had a burgeoning war on the horizon with a species who, in at least some instances, could resist indoctrination amplified by the most powerful artifact Dainn had found in Equestria, something straight out of the Age of the gods as far as Dainn was concerned.

Dainn wanted nothing more than to hold his head and groan. aloud. Everything had gotten so complicated with this new factor he had to deal with. Maybe he could sic one of the other kings on Minos while he formulated a new strategy? He’d have to write several dozen letters to his contacts back in the Homeland. . .

Instead, he privately thanked the gods drinking was an embraced part of Caribou culture and asked, “Birger? Cancel Day Court for the time being and bring me another bottle of wine-I don’t care which, and summon Agnar to my chambers and arrange a meeting later with the lieutenants still in the city. We have much to discuss, and need to move the plans up.” His plans for the changelings were much more pressing, and he needed to move plans forward weeks if not months in advance.

“As you wish, young master.” Birger said. “May I inquire what shall be done for the good Minotaur ambassador and his embassy?”

Dainn thought for a moment, unsure how to deal with a foreign power’s messenger, but decided it was better safe than sorry. “Deport them, I suppose. If they resist, burn it to the ground.”

Birger nodded wisely at his decision, and many of the guards found his solution practical. If they resist, burn them to the ground. What a practical solution, they thought.

Author's Note

I'm alive! And this story is not dead.

Fooled you, didn't I?

Half this chapter's been sitting in a gdoc for the past six months, and I just haven't had the energy or inspiration to finish it up with university and work bogging me down. Still, I'm not done with this series, and I'll try and post something more regularly from now on...at least, not once every ten months or so.

This chapter is where it also gets confusing. I'm not writing this chronologically, and this is an anthology of shorts. So this chapter technically takes place before Chapter One...I'm just not sure how to mess with the chapter layout to showcase that. I will be keeping a list of chapters in chronological order in the description, though.

Finally, I am curious to know whether you guys and gals find my attempt to characterize Dainn as something more than a racist sexist caricature of a viking interesting or not. I don't intend for him to be a big main character in this series, but he will show up every now and then-he is the villain, after all, and I intend for him to have his own ark throughout the series.

Anyway, hope you enjoy, and if please comment. I feed off comments, and grow stronger with them!