Night Over Canterlotby Asphodel NocturnaChaptersPrologue: A Different Kind of Magic1. Coming and Leaving2. The Valiant PrincePrologue: A Different Kind of MagicThe severe, angry scowl on Amaryllis Swiftstrike's face never left as she walked through the many halls of Chrysalis's Hive. Each purposeful hoofstep came down hard on the stone floor, warning Changelings of all ages and ranks to stay out of her way. The see-through, insect-like wings on her back, several shades lighter than the dark purple of her mane and tail, betrayed her barely contained fury by twitching. A lot. As Amaryllis traveled toward the heart of the Hive, where the royal Changeling family resided, the decor gradually became richer and more embellished. Fanciful chandeliers of glowing crystals, thick rugs and tapestries finely woven from silk thread and interlaced with goldwork, and glittering displays of precious gemstones mingled with the standard magic crystal lights and blue, green, and black banners on the walls. Dark wood paneling and lovely fabric draperies adorned the otherwise plain, dark stone. After bowing respectfully to the Queen's top mage, the two armored guards in front of Chrysalis's royal quarters opened the doors without question. Amaryllis walked through the doorway with a quick nod to each sentry, menace-filled violet eyes narrowing as they zeroed in on the single Changeling in the room beyond. Queen Chrysalis was lying on her side among the furs and silk pillows piled on her black satin couch, her signature cat's smirk working full duty. A bottle of very rare Crystal Rose wine, expensively imported from some faraway country to the north, sat on the midnight-glass coffee table, next to two intricately etched wineglasses—one empty, one half-filled with the orangey-pink wine. The teal-maned Queen's devious smile widened at the sight of Amaryllis, standing stock-still by the closed doors. "Lady Swiftstrike. I was expecting you," she said smoothly, gesturing with a well-manicured, hole-riddled black hoof. "How nice of you to join me. Come, won't you sit?" Amaryllis's features hardened into a mask of ice, but after a moment, she walked stiffly over to the sitting area and chose a spot on the sofa across from Chrysalis. "Care for a little drink?" An iridescent green aura from Chrysalis's long, crooked horn encircled the bottle of wine and filled the empty glass before offering it to Amaryllis. "So, what brings you here, my trusted thaumaturge?" "You know very well why I'm here, Aunt Chrysalis," the younger Changeling growled, shoving the floating wineglass away. It flew into the wall and shattered, splatters of wine and little shards of glass spraying everywhere. The Queen watched this silently with half-lidded eyes; her amusement only seemed to grow. "My daughter!" snarled Amaryllis, rising to her hooves and leaning across the table to look Chrysalis in the eyes. "How dare you send her off on a mission when she is obviously not ready?! She is just one year old, a mere child, and yet you insist on shipping her to Zebrica—halfway around the world! And without my permission!" "Oh, yes. Astral Swiftstrike, was it?" purred Chrysalis, pawing at the air in a flippant, careless way. Her niece bristled. "She's shaping up to be a very talented, beautiful little filly, Lady Amaryllis. You should be proud of her." Those eerily bright green eyes narrowed. "Who knows? Perhaps she'll even become my best mage, my Shadow, one day. Like mother, like daughter, right?" "You stay away from her," Amaryllis seethed, horn sizzling with enraged violet sparks. Images flashed through her mind, snapshots of her past as the Queen's head thaumaturge and most reliable spy. The memories weren't pretty. "Haven't you scarred the lives of enough Changelings? I told you already, I don't want Astral to be like me! I want her to live the normal life of a normal Changeling in this Hive, safe and far from the danger that haunts me!" Queen Chrysalis's mirth instantly disappeared, and she stood up, transparent blue wings fanning out threateningly. "You would speak like that to your Queen?" she hissed. Her eyes flared with green light, filling with sudden ire. Amaryllis stood her ground, glowering at Chrysalis with an equal share of anger. "If only to protect my daughter. Of course, you wouldn't understand, would you?" Her voice took on a sneering undertone. "I bet Princess Crescent just loved her mother, especially when she left Crescent to die in—" "That was an accident and you know it." The two antagonists stared at each other with smoldering glares, wrathful energy crackling and rolling off their chitin coats in waves. "What I do know is a certain group of Changelings who could, and would, say the exact opposite . . ." Amaryllis trailed off, taking a tiny bit of pleasure from seeing the pure rage on her Queen's face. "In fact, I think—" "SHUT UP!" Chrysalis interrupted her once more, finally snapping. A violent beam of magic erupted from the tip of her horn, threatening to wrap Amaryllis in its scorching flames, but a simple shield spell stopped the attack before it reached its target. The ray dissipated into curls of black smoke, but the shiny lavender bubble encasing Amaryllis remained in place. "Really, Your Majesty?" She made the royal title sound like an insult, and then smiled to reveal small, sharp fangs. "Have at it." "You think you can defeat me by yourself, little niece?" Queen Chrysalis reared onto her hindhooves and released a volley of emerald fireballs. "No," was all Amaryllis said. Chrysalis seemed to notice that something was amiss, and her face twisted. "You insect! What have you done?!" she roared, leaping for Amaryllis— That was when the doors exploded. A flare of citrus-colored magic cleared away the smoking splinters of wood and the blizzard of burnt dust, unveiling five other female Changeling thaumaturges of distant royal blood, all clad in silk robes of midnight black, all wearing ancient-looking gemstone pendants around their necks. Lady Rosette, Chrysalis's archmage and Amaryllis's second-in-command (in the case of magics, of course), had her scarlet mane done up in a neat, low bun, its color almost matching the vibrant shade of the ruby dangling from her necklace. Lady Serenity's night-blue hair was straight and flying free; her sapphire pendant glowed like a chunk cut from the night sky. Lady Viridescence stood tall and proud as always, the tips of her leaf-hued curls partly obscuring the shimmer of the emerald at her chest. Lady Amber's wavy, luscious orange mane complimented her carved topaz charm perfectly, as did her tail. And blind-eyed Lady Pearl's floor-length white hair almost covered the gleaming moonstone that was her necklace. Lastly, in spite of their dire situation, Amaryllis winked at her friends and pulled out the amethyst that had been hidden by the neckline of her robe. Six pairs of eyes—glowing purple, brilliant red, summer blue, natural green, sunny orange, and milky white—shot daggers at their Queen, blazing with determination and defiance. "Well, Auntie?" Amaryllis turned back to Queen Chrysalis and smirked. "Not so sure of yourself now, are you?" Chrysalis's scathing gaze swept over the unflinching mages. "All of this for a little foal?" she demanded. "How petty. You five would risk your lives to save my pathetic grandniece?" "This is not just about Astral Swiftstrike." Lady Pearl Brightseer, the eldest mage here, stepped forward instead of Rosette, who was usually the leader. Her opal eyes, clouded and glazed with blindness and age, shone with the fierce light of wisdom. "Your reign of terror has gone on for far too long. Now, it is time to end that." "You can't kill me. It's a simple fact," Chrysalis growled, but her eyes darted around as if she were suddenly scared. "I have no heir. The Changeling throne will be left empty, and no one would be willing to accept just anyone." "But you've forgotten one thing, dear aunt." Amaryllis's horn began to glow, followed by the colored auras of her fellow thaumaturges. "We have the one thing that you can never have." The pendants at their necks started to sparkle as well, matching the Changelings' mane, eye, and magic shades. A bold streak of colored light shot out from each gemstone, whirling and twisting together to form a thick, single rainbow. "Impossible!" Chrysalis shouted, even as a green shield glimmered into existence in front of her, guided by her horn. "Changelings cannot summon Harmony magic! Where did you obtain this power?" "You're wrong, Majesty." Lady Rosette closed her eyes and smiled. "This is our magic." "I'LL BE BACK!" The Queen's screech split the air for seven heartbeats. And then, she was gone. "I will be back, I promise you . . ." Her whisper lingered long after she vanished. "Something's not right," Amaryllis murmured, inspecting the remains of the scene with Rosette, Serenity, Viridescence, Amber, and Pearl. "I have a bad feeling about my aunt . . ." Her eyes widened. "NO!" It can't be. She's dead! No one could have predicted it. None of them saw it coming. BANG. Jets of green flame and sprays of molten lava exploded right where the purple-maned mage stood. Smoke rolled over the others, cries of alarm ripped from their throats. The screams were abruptly cut off. The black smoke cleared. Pearl Brightseer stood alone in front of a towering Changeling Queen, sightless eyes wide with horror. The new Queen smiled thinly. "Let's dance, shall we?" 1. Coming and LeavingBadlands Hive, fifteen years later . . . Truly coming home was a concept that was completely unknown to Astral Swiftstrike. She had only ever been greeted (with quite the enthusiasm . . .) by the Queen's Guard upon returning from a mission, before being escorted straight to the royal throne room. Warm welcomes evidently did not exist here, but Astral couldn't care less. Who would, with a ruler like hers? Today was no different. Astral stalked through the Hive with three stoic Changeling guards—one on each side of her, the last tailing them. She was careful to maintain the perfect, deceptive mask that she wore every moment of every day, which she put on not just for the watchers, but for her own sake as well. She was rewarded for this by the fear, awe, and respect in the eyes of every Changeling they passed. "Astral." Lady Pearl, the eldest court thaumaturge of the Hive, stepped out of the shadows of an alcove just ahead, her moon-white mane blending surprisingly well into the darkness. She still wore the traditional, flowing robes of a Queen's high-ranking mage, but extra-fancy embroidery and an Empathy Crystal pendant signified that she was retired and holding a different position but still a master of magics. Pearl had been assigned as the Changeling Queen's royal adviser twelve years ago, just after resignation from her previous occupation. After the death of Astral's mother, Amaryllis Swiftstrike, Pearl had taken the role of guardian and teacher to the younger Changeling. She was also referred to by the ignorant drones as "Her Crazy Old Ladyship", though no one would dare say it to her face, or Astral's. One particularly impolite young guard-in-training had learned his lesson well after taking a ball of firelit thorns to the muzzle from the Hive's best combat magician and promptly getting demoted even further. "Welcome home, Shadow," Pearl greeted her, matching her stride to Astral's as they continued on through the halls. "Was your mission successful?" The question was needless, as this Queen's Shadow had never failed before. "Yes, Pearl. It's a pleasure to see you again," replied Astral, looking straight ahead. Could she ever call this place her home? "Mission Sundae Sunday is complete, and the target was taken care of." A short laugh escaped Lady Pearl. "Indeed, Her Majesty does not disappoint with the amusing titles for your missions." Astral cast a sideways glance at the older mage. Though Pearl would never say it out loud, Astral knew that her mentor harbored a deep, secret hatred for the Queen, buried inside her heart like a burning ember. However, the reason for Pearl's resentment was not within her knowledge. It must have been a very, very good reason. Pearl Brightseer's blind, opalescent eyes saw everything when everyone else saw nothing. "Ah, did the Queen say anything to you about my next assignment?" Astral asked. Between her tasks, which mostly involved assassinations and spying, she very rarely had any free time to do what she wanted. The few days she spent in the Hive were overflowing with obligations: training wayward soldiers in the Queen's Army and the Guard, inspecting the magical defenses and setting up new ones, going over attack strategies and war plans (just in case) with the other thaumaturges. "When I asked, Her Majesty only winked and said that it was a surprise you'd enjoy." Pearl's long, crooked black horn glowed iridescent white; her magic wrapped around a bejeweled gold pocketwatch hanging from her neck—Astral had always wondered why her guardian carried a watch when she could not see the time—and levitated it in front of Astral's face. "What time is it?" "Nearly dawn. Huh, I traveled all night and didn't have time to sleep," Astral said. Pearl's aura dissipated, leaving the watch to dangle on its chain. "Anyway, a surprise from the Queen? She must have been joking if she thought I would enjoy it." She snorted, blowing a stray lock of hair out of her eyes with a small puff of breath. "We are here. Prepare yourselves for the presence of our Queen," interrupted one of the guards. The two doorkeepers standing next to the throne room entrance thumped the ends of their long black spear shafts in perfect unison. Astral and Pearl fell silent, straightening even more until they were ramrods and schooling their features like marble statues. The looming black doors, carved with the large image of a Changeling swarm flying in the night sky that was gilded with silver, opened without a single creak. The throne room of the Badlands Hive was just as impressive and regal as it was terrifying. A long, wide silk carpet ran the length of the high-ceilinged, rectangular chamber, leading all the way from the doors to the throne. Silver braziers, containing cold flames of blue and green, stood in neat rows that bordered the sides of the carpet. Misshapen shadows stretched across the black floor and the dark, velvet-draped stone walls. Large shards of broken mirror hung magically suspended in the air, mostly gathered around the throne, along with a number of scattered Empathy Crystals, the most prized treasure of this Hive. The Queen's Throne itself was a tall, hulking sculpture of pure midnight marble, carrying a strange elegance within its twisted angles and sprinkled holes. And on that throne sat a Changeling Queen. She leaned forward, her body still shrouded in shadow. Only her piercing green dragon eyes could be seen, narrowed, drilling little holes into the subjects of her scrutiny. The tips of her teal mane, most of which was laced with dangling gems and neatly done up in an intricate hairdo, seemed to smolder in the sea-green firelight. "Perfect timing, Lady Swiftstrike," the Queen purred in a voice as smooth as satin yet with an underlying tone sharper than flint. "Welcome back to my Hive." Pearl, a soft growl in her throat, was ignored. Astral met her monarch's gaze with a level stare of her own. "Your Majesty. I have successfully completed Mission Sundae Sunday as of two nights ago." She forced every emotion from her voice, biting back defiance and hatred. The Queen smiled. "Wonderful. You are just like your mother—the punctuality, the accomplishments, and of course, we cannot forget the looks. Why, Mother was jealous of her own mage's beauty, did you know?" Her horn flashed green, and the biggest chunk of glass floated over to Astral, forcing the young thaumaturge to look her own reflection in the eye. The mare in the mirror wore her gold-striped, royal purple mane in a long, loose side braid that brushed the floor, complimenting the amethyst-trimmed, black silk robe that swished softly whenever she moved. Around her neck was a silver chain from which hung a crystal with glowing colors of both violet and gold. Her gaze was hard and cold, befitting of a Shadow; her left eye was golden amber, while her right was the same purple of her dead mother's eyes. Her wings were the same contrasting colors. She was scowling when she pushed the mirror away with a flare of magic. "Enough. What is my next task, Your Majesty?" Anger sparked from her coat, crackling in the air between them. "Always right on point. Fine," the Queen replied loftily. "You will have a companion for this mission, whom you will train and teach along the way. Guards, bring her in." A . . . trainee? Astral looked to Pearl for an explanation, but her mentor only shook her head. You'll see. The doors opened once more, and three Changelings stepped inside: two of them were clearly soldiers, carrying spears and dressed in lightweight black armor, walking on either side of the third figure. This one was most certainly not any common Changeling. She was small and lithe, appearing to be a few years younger than Astral, with a well-polished coat of black chitin and a long, thick mane of soft, loose curls the color of Equestria's summer sky, matching the exact shade of her petal-shaped wings. Her eyes were silver, unlike any Changeling's eyes that Astral had seen before, and she was bedecked in finery—expensive-looking silks of cerulean and silver, strings of sapphires and diamonds, gilded horseshoes and jeweled regalia that was fit for royalty and only royalty. She was beautiful, but also fragile and pampered. "This is my foolish twelve-year-old daughter, Princess Solstice," the Queen introduced. "She's your first cousin twice removed . . . or something like that. I'm sure you've seen her around the Hive, or at least heard of her. She spends almost all of her time in the library, holed up among those books she likes so much. You, Lady Swiftstrike, are going to train her to be the next Shadow." This breakable little princess was going to be her successor? Astral stared in disbelief until Pearl gave her a sharp nudge in the side. "Yes, Your Majesty," she said, snapping back into stiff posture. "And now, your mission: travel to Equestria's capital city, Canterlot, and capture Crown Prince Valiant Heart. Do not kill him, not until you get him back here," continued the Queen. "He is the son of Princess Twilight Sparkle of Equestria and Prince Blueblood VII of House Blueblood. In one week's time, the Alicorn Princesses will host a ball to celebrate the Prince's seventeenth birthday; you will ponynap him at the castle, after the event. Lady Brightseer will provide you with false invitations so that you can sneak in without raising suspicion. I expect you to return with him in a cage by the night of the new moon—in thirteen days. Is this clear?" "Crystal, Your Majesty." Astral dipped her head to the Queen. Hmm, he is close to my own age. I wonder . . . what kind of pony Valiant Heart is. "May I ask what you want the Crown Prince for?" "No, you may not. That is none of your concern, not at the moment," the Queen answered curtly. "Rest until midnight tonight, and then I want you two on your way. Understood? Good. You are dismissed. And Lady Brightseer, I want to see you in my chambers after this." "Yes, Your Majesty," Astral and Pearl chorused, bowing respectfully. "Yes, my Queen," mumbled Princess Solstice in a barely audible whisper, lowering her head. Once they had exited the throne room, Pearl gave Astral the invitations and a tiny smile. "I will not be there to see you off, but I wish you the best of luck," she said, turning to go. "That prince is one of the most well-guarded ponies in Equestria." "Thank you, but I don't need that luck!" Astral called after her old teacher, smiling back. She looked down and realized that she was standing in the middle of the hallway with the Crown Princess of the Badlands Changeling Hive. "Your Highness, when would be a preferable time for us to leave for Equestria?" Astral asked her. She straightened the sash of her robes, feeling a little awkward. Here she was, talking to her superior for the first time. A superior who was younger and soon to receive training from Astral. "Please, don't call me that, Lady Astral. Solstice is fine. You are older, and the one teaching me, after all, so . . . it's weird." The princess looked away, fidgeting with her jewelry. "Oh . . ." Astral trailed off, then brightened. "Well, I'll give you a deal. If I call you Solstice, then you have to call me Astral. Just that, no honorifics. Okay?" Slowly, a small smile grew on Solstice's face. "Okay!" "Do you have everything?" Astral tugged at the strap of her black saddlebags to tighten it, a checklist levitating in front of her. It was midnight, just about time to leave; they were going over the supplies on the list one more time. The basic necessities included food and water and bedrolls for travel, a pouch of Equestrian bits for the capital city, fancy gowns for the ball (where they would be disguised as ponies, of course) a collection of very sharp knives and daggers, tranquilizer darts and various nonlethal poisons. Just normal things like that. "Did you receive the invitations?" Solstice asked, struggling to neatly shove her dress into her bag. "I don't recall seeing them when we were packing." "Oh, yes, Lady Pearl gave them to me just before she went to see the Queen—here they are." Astral took the cards out of some secret pocket in her bag and brought them up to eye level. The invitations were made of a thick, cream-colored paper with ornamental gold scrollwork. Each read the same thing, in impractical, swirly gold script: You are cordially invited To Crown Prince Valiant Heart's 17th birthday masquerade ball In the Canterlot Castle ballroom On the twentieth night of this lunar cycle. Your presence will be much appreciated! "Hmm, very convincing," Solstice commented. "So, what is the plan for the next twenty-four hours?" "Travel, for the next two days, in fact. That's how long it'll take to get to Canterlot," Astral answered. She and Solstice had abandoned their usual Hive attire so that no clothing would slow their flying, but there were dark cloaks on hoof for the colder nights in the Crown City. Solstice flexed her wings, fluttering them rapidly to prepare herself for the long flight ahead. "This is the first time in years that I've been allowed to fly that far." "Oh? When was the last?" Astral looked up briefly from her inspection of a slender dagger. "I was six years old, and didn't know better at the time," Solstice remembered. "I wanted to see if I could get all the way to the border of the Badlands and Equestria. Needless to say, it didn't end well for me. Mother sent out some soldiers to retrieve me, and when we returned, she was angrier than I'd ever seen her." "I see. When I was younger, I ran into more trouble than you could imagine. Shall I relay the tales to you on the way there?" Astral sheathed the dagger and strapped it to the outside of her saddlebags for easy access. One could never be too cautious. Solstice laughed. "Please do!" Perched in the shadows of her bedroom window, the Queen watched her daughter and her Shadow leave together, with Pearl at her side. "They seem to work well together," she noted, twirling the wineglass held in her magical grasp. "Don't you agree, Lady Brightseer?" "Yes, Your Majesty." Pearl, hiding her private hatred, tilted a wine bottle forward to refill the Queen's glass with sunset-colored liquid. "A formidable pair, I would say." "Astral Swiftstrike is exactly the kind of weapon I need," the Queen went on, tossing back the wine all at once. She flashed a fanged smile, wiping her lips with the sleeve of her royal robe. "I wonder if she can really train that pathetic daughter of mine. It would be a miraculous feat, I believe." She sighed, leaning against the windowsill. "Being Queen of an entire Hive is surprisingly euphoric. After all, Mother did leave behind the most wonderful luxuries, and quite a few trophies, too. The reign of Queen Chrysalis would have been great, but no . . . she was too weak. "But I will be different, Mother. I will become the terror of all kingdoms in this world. "Soon, everyone will fear the name of Queen Crescent Chrysalis Duskheart, the greatest Queen in history." 2. The Valiant PrinceCanterlot, two days later . . . The chilly bite of the autumn air pierced Valiant's coat as soon as he stepped out of the castle's sheltering warmth. He tugged the hood of his dark gray cloak forward over his face, trying to be as inconspicuous as a pony could possibly be while wearing something like this. He did realize, however, that perhaps it wasn't the most subtle article of clothing, but the situation couldn't be helped. Valiant was lucky enough to have been able to leave without catching the eye of any guards or palace staff. Or, Celestia forbid, his arrogant, blown-up pufferfish of a father. His mother was busy with an impromptu delegation from Aquastria, the underwater kingdom of the supposedly legendary sea ponies. On an entirely different note, his father was preoccupied by his gaggle of lady admirers and—Valiant was disgusted every time he heard of it—mistresses, probably all poor unsuspecting mares that had been roped in by Prince Blueblood's charming, deceitful smile. Today was his little sister's twelfth birthday. Since Diadem was going through her "open-minded" phase, something curious and exotic from one of Canterlot's many foreign trading markets would be a thoughtful gift. The hustle and bustle of the city's largest market, dubbed Lilias, grew louder as Valiant joined the surging crowd of shoppers. He was jostled and shoved and jabbed by the suffocating abundance of bodies, but this was nothing compared to the horde of shrieking mares that had broken into last year's Grand Galloping Catastrophe—ahem, Gala. It still gave him shudders. He shook off the nightmarish memory and politely wove his way through the throng, keeping his head down and eyes alert. Ah, there. One stand in particular caught his eye. Run by a griffon and his business partner, a gray-striped zebra, it was selling a mix of peculiar artifacts from, unsurprisingly, Griffonstone and Zebrica. Perfect! Dia would love to have one of these . . . wait, is that a dragon's claw? Valiant pushed forward, muttering a hasty apology to the pegasus he'd elbowed on the way, and stopped in front of the booth. And stared. The female zebra, an older shamaness most likely, wore a flowing, patterned cloth that wrapped seamlessly around her shoulders and barrel and just barely brushed the ground. Strands and strands of gemstones and wooden beads hung from her neck, so many that Valiant could hardly believe that she could stand up straight with all the weight, and gold-and-silver bangles jingled on her forelegs. Thick golden hoops pierced her pricked ears; her long, gray-and-white braid glittered with jewels and swung back and forth like a pendulum when she stepped forward to greet customers. A strange, cloudy feeling settled over him at the sight of her. Do I know her from somewhere? I think I would have remembered meeting a zebra kahuna . . . Only when the griffon, a wiry bird with dark brown feathers and a sharp silver gaze, cleared his throat did Valiant realize that he'd been staring for a few minutes now. "Apologies for my rudeness, sir," he said in the polished voice he had practiced that morning. "I was just noticing that fascinating dragon's talon over there. Is it real?" While the zebra went to retrieve the claw, the griffon nodded, puffing his chest proudly. "Yes, in fact. Griffonstone's greatest strength and pride was once the Platinum Wing, a battalion of trained soldiers that defended the kingdom from large-scale attackers and invaders. The Wing specialized in killing dragons, and quite a lot of souvenirs from their epic battles have been discovered beneath the old castle of King Boreas. This is just one we managed to dig up." "Very interesting. May I see it?" Valiant took hold of the offered talon in his silver unicorn magic, turning it this way and that. The jade-green scales were small, hard, and smooth, like brand-new armor, and the spear-like tips of the darker green claws glinted in the sunlight. It ended in the wrist area with a clean edge, as if the talon had simply been sliced off the arm with a very sharp blade. Dragon scales did not give way easily. Yes, intriguing, but I doubt that Diadem would want a creepy dragon claw for her birthday present. He carefully placed the appendage back on the table. "Would this interest you, young prince?" He froze. They found me out! Heart thumping, Valiant turned to the zebra shamaness, who was smiling kindly at him with a knowing twinkle in her aqua-blue eyes that were so hauntingly familiar. Spread out on the shelf in front of her was a neat array of crystals, each carved with a unique symbol and shining with vibrant but also gentle colors. "You said—what—er—?" Valiant bit his tongue to cut off his own sudden stuttering. "Ma'am." "Ziahra is my name," the zebra said, lightly touching the gem-studded golden rings encircling her throat. "You are here for your sister, the second princess, are you not? I believe that these Zebrican glitter crystals will satisfy both of you." "Glitter crystals?" Valiant bent down for a closer look, still unnerved by the kahuna's uncanny knowledge and those warm eyes that seemed to look right into his mind. He realized that the clear stones were not just one color, but each one contained at least two hazy hues that swirled slowly inside the crystal and throbbed with faint light. "They are found . . . only in the darkest . . . most dangerous . . . of places . . ." Ziahra's eerily soft voice wafted around him like wisps of smoke curling in the air. "Longevity . . . luck . . . happiness . . . peace . . . they bring to you . . . the best that this horrid life . . . can offer." Did she say horrid? Valiant inspected a crystal that glowed with shades of indigo and pink and golden yellow, reminding him of the pretty mane that Diadem possessed but had never cared much about. The etched symbol on it looked sort of like a stylized pegasus wing. Fitting. "Ah, a good choice," Ziahra said, taking the stone from him. Her voice returned to normal. "This one, Vryheid Van Vlug, literally means, translated from Zebrican, 'freedom of flight'. It suits the princess, don't you think?" "Stop reading my thoughts!" Valiant blurted out impulsively, then slapped both hooves over his mouth. Idiot! Ziahra merely smiled, paying no heed to his outburst. "Do you wish to have it?" The glitter crystal held in her hoof flashed brighter, beckoning to him. "Yes. All right." Valiant reached into a hidden inside pocket of his cloak to take out a pouch filled with bits nabbed from his little box of self-earned savings (self-earned: the money he made by anonymously selling off his useless jewelry. And: why would a prince need bits of his own?). "No, no, no," the zebra said, pushing the gold pieces back to him, with the crystal. Her eyes had glazed over suddenly; she somehow didn't seem like herself anymore. "Young prince, further along the path you walk, there will be a much greater cost than that of this stone. Keep that in mind, and these bits, if you would." The shamaness smiled once more, the glassy look vanishing. "Keep that in mind," she repeated, and turned away to help another browser. Valiant stared after her, feeling more than a little confused and creeped-out. "I'll . . . keep that in mind," he said. He wasn't sure if Ziahra could hear him, but unbeknownst to the first prince of Equestria, the kahuna's ear twitched and a tiny sparkle entered her jewel-blue gaze. "You'll need to, young Highness," she whispered, almost inaudibly. "Oh, you will need to." Valiant levitated Diadem's glitter crystal into his pocket, determined to get back to the castle safely—and before anypony noticed that he was gone and stirred up alarm. The last thing he needed was public attention, and Royal Guard search parties attracted attention regardless of where they were or who they were looking for. He had discovered that more than ten years ago, and he wasn't planning to relearn the lesson. Just as he was leaving Lilias Market, he bumped into another pony, this time a mare who wore a black cloak similar to his own. At least, he thought it was a mare; feminine-looking, large purple eyes peered at him from the shadows of her hood. No, not all purple, he thought. The color is splattered with flecks of gold. What? "Sorry, ma'am, I didn't see you there," Valiant apologized to her in a rush. He was starting to hurry away when the mare's voice stopped him in his tracks. "Ma'am? That makes me sound old." Eyes narrowing slightly, the stranger stepped closer, but not so close that she was invading his personal space. "And why, pray tell, would I be the one to run into His Royal Highness Prince Valiant Heart at a common trading market?" Chills rushed down Valiant's spine. She knows! "H-How do you know I'm him, and not just another shopper?" He kept his words calm, but inside, his thoughts were roiling. If word gets out that I'm here . . . Celestia help me. "You are the crown prince of Equestria. Who would know you?" The mare snorted sardonically, arching one brow. He was surprised and a little impressed. It was the most sarcastic statement he'd ever heard, and coming from a citizen, no less. It was new, and he quite liked it. "Nopony?" he tried, as a response to her previously rhetorical question. She didn't laugh, although Valiant detected a hint of a smirk beneath the cloak. "Well then. Be careful on your way back to the castle, Your Highness." "I will . . ." Nodding farewell to the mare, he turned to leave. Then, another thought occurred to him, and he whipped around. "Wait! Miss—" She was gone. Among the dozens of other ponies, Valiant couldn't make out the black-clad form anywhere. Feeling weirdly disappointed, he started to head back home. But for some reason, he couldn't get those strange encounters out of his head. First the zebra kahuna, who seemed to just know him, and then this mare . . . Not to mention the floating piece of cake that morning (but it could have been a prank, courtesy of his sister and her unicorn friend). He shook his head. What was going on today? He found Diadem in the Royal Guard's training arena, beating the new recruits to a pulp in swordfighting. "Which one of you hopeless greenhorns wants to challenge me next?" the second princess of Equestria called out, brandishing the polished wooden sword she held between her teeth. There had been nearly twenty duels so far, and she wasn't even breaking out a sweat yet. Murmurs and a lot of shoving broke out among the crowd of fresh young guards until one stallion stumbled forward, a scrawny-looking blue earth pony who looked like he hadn't hit his teenage growth spurt yet. "I-I will!" he squeaked, attempting a wobbly salute. This drew snickers from various trainees, but a single look from Diadem silenced them instantly. "Very well. I admire your determination, newbie." The pale-lavender-coated royal tossed him a training sword that he fumbled to catch. "What's your name?" "Tsu-Tsunami Spray, Your Highness!" he stammered, beads of sweat gathering on his forehead. "Well, Private Spray, I hope you're ready!" Diadem looked at the day's training overseer, Captain Goldspear of the Royal Guard. "Captain, on your mark." "GO!" Goldspear shouted immediately, pounding his hoof once on the stone floor of the arena. The swords clashed soon after that. Tsunami Spray was surprisingly fast and nimble, dodging the attacks quickly, but regardless, he was no match for the princess. He was slowly losing with each parry and straight attack; sweat was streaming from his face now, but still he didn't stop. "Dia, it isn't a fair fight when they're untrained and going against you, whose Guard rank would be equivalent to the captain's," Valiant called from his spot atop the low stone wall that surrounded the area. At the sight of the first prince, Tsunami's eyes widened and he staggered, failing to block Diadem's swift attack and getting a blunted wood sword-tip in the cheek. Valiant began to feel a little bad for startling him. Whispers rose from the rest of the gathered recruits. Diadem turned her head to look at him, and her grin widened. Wow, Little Sis sure looks like she's having fun. "I'm going way, way easy on them!" she laughed around the sword hilt clenched in her mouth. "If I were being serious, these green colts would drop down dead in this arena!" At these words, several of the "green colts" turned a few shades paler. Valiant smirked as he watched his oh-so-smug younger sister. Diadem had never been much liked by their father all because she was a pegasus and not a unicorn like Valiant, Prince Blueblood, and their mother, Princess Twilight Sparkle, before she ascended. She got the rough end of the stick every time. Princess Twilight treated both of her foals fairly, but that just added to the problem and contributed to an abundance of the many fights between her and her husband. It hadn't even been Twilight Sparkle's own choice to marry the prissy, stuck-up unicorn prince who was only a prince in title and only had power because of her. Diadem had never held a grudge against Valiant for being their father's favorite—they had been the best of friends since the younger's birth—but Valiant knew that his sister resented Prince Blueblood with a purple passion. It bordered on hatred, but there were rare occasions when Father was actually kind to both of them. You deserve only the best, Dia, and I know that you will make it happen all on your own, because that's the amazing kind of pony you are. "Hey! Val! Are you dreaming again?" A purple hoof waved in front of his face and smacked him on the nose. "Owwww! Hey!" Valiant protested, shoving Diadem's hoof away. He blinked, rubbing his muzzle (which was no doubt reddening by now), and looked around. The recruits were filing out of the arena in little knots, chatting and laughing with each other as if they had been friends for years, and they hadn't just met each other days ago. "Those young stallions, beaten by a twelve-year-old, huh?" Valiant grinned, nudging his little sister in the side. "I bet they'll have some interesting stories to tell when you're done with them . . . Dear Mommy, the princess is so strong and hot! I wish I could—" Diadem elbowed him back, really really hard. "Shut up, Val!" she said, deliberately using her brother's "girl" nickname, though she was smiling, too. "Oh! I almost forgot, I have something for you," Valiant said, retrieving the crystal from his cloak pocket. "Happy birthday, Dia." She took the stone from him, turning it and flipping it over with a curious frown. "What is it?" "A Zebrican glitter crystal." He watched her reaction carefully. "This one is what—Vryheid Van Vlug?—and it means 'freedom of flight'," he said, quoting Ziahra's words. "I thought it would suit you . . . do you like it?" Diadem's face had been blank up until now, but a brilliant smile lit up her face. "It's perfect. I love it! Thanks, Val!" she shouted in his ear before throwing her forelegs around him. Valiant choked, but he was happy. After all, nothing was better than being strangled by his younger sister, right? Nothing matters to me more than your happiness.
Prologue: A Different Kind of MagicThe severe, angry scowl on Amaryllis Swiftstrike's face never left as she walked through the many halls of Chrysalis's Hive. Each purposeful hoofstep came down hard on the stone floor, warning Changelings of all ages and ranks to stay out of her way. The see-through, insect-like wings on her back, several shades lighter than the dark purple of her mane and tail, betrayed her barely contained fury by twitching. A lot. As Amaryllis traveled toward the heart of the Hive, where the royal Changeling family resided, the decor gradually became richer and more embellished. Fanciful chandeliers of glowing crystals, thick rugs and tapestries finely woven from silk thread and interlaced with goldwork, and glittering displays of precious gemstones mingled with the standard magic crystal lights and blue, green, and black banners on the walls. Dark wood paneling and lovely fabric draperies adorned the otherwise plain, dark stone. After bowing respectfully to the Queen's top mage, the two armored guards in front of Chrysalis's royal quarters opened the doors without question. Amaryllis walked through the doorway with a quick nod to each sentry, menace-filled violet eyes narrowing as they zeroed in on the single Changeling in the room beyond. Queen Chrysalis was lying on her side among the furs and silk pillows piled on her black satin couch, her signature cat's smirk working full duty. A bottle of very rare Crystal Rose wine, expensively imported from some faraway country to the north, sat on the midnight-glass coffee table, next to two intricately etched wineglasses—one empty, one half-filled with the orangey-pink wine. The teal-maned Queen's devious smile widened at the sight of Amaryllis, standing stock-still by the closed doors. "Lady Swiftstrike. I was expecting you," she said smoothly, gesturing with a well-manicured, hole-riddled black hoof. "How nice of you to join me. Come, won't you sit?" Amaryllis's features hardened into a mask of ice, but after a moment, she walked stiffly over to the sitting area and chose a spot on the sofa across from Chrysalis. "Care for a little drink?" An iridescent green aura from Chrysalis's long, crooked horn encircled the bottle of wine and filled the empty glass before offering it to Amaryllis. "So, what brings you here, my trusted thaumaturge?" "You know very well why I'm here, Aunt Chrysalis," the younger Changeling growled, shoving the floating wineglass away. It flew into the wall and shattered, splatters of wine and little shards of glass spraying everywhere. The Queen watched this silently with half-lidded eyes; her amusement only seemed to grow. "My daughter!" snarled Amaryllis, rising to her hooves and leaning across the table to look Chrysalis in the eyes. "How dare you send her off on a mission when she is obviously not ready?! She is just one year old, a mere child, and yet you insist on shipping her to Zebrica—halfway around the world! And without my permission!" "Oh, yes. Astral Swiftstrike, was it?" purred Chrysalis, pawing at the air in a flippant, careless way. Her niece bristled. "She's shaping up to be a very talented, beautiful little filly, Lady Amaryllis. You should be proud of her." Those eerily bright green eyes narrowed. "Who knows? Perhaps she'll even become my best mage, my Shadow, one day. Like mother, like daughter, right?" "You stay away from her," Amaryllis seethed, horn sizzling with enraged violet sparks. Images flashed through her mind, snapshots of her past as the Queen's head thaumaturge and most reliable spy. The memories weren't pretty. "Haven't you scarred the lives of enough Changelings? I told you already, I don't want Astral to be like me! I want her to live the normal life of a normal Changeling in this Hive, safe and far from the danger that haunts me!" Queen Chrysalis's mirth instantly disappeared, and she stood up, transparent blue wings fanning out threateningly. "You would speak like that to your Queen?" she hissed. Her eyes flared with green light, filling with sudden ire. Amaryllis stood her ground, glowering at Chrysalis with an equal share of anger. "If only to protect my daughter. Of course, you wouldn't understand, would you?" Her voice took on a sneering undertone. "I bet Princess Crescent just loved her mother, especially when she left Crescent to die in—" "That was an accident and you know it." The two antagonists stared at each other with smoldering glares, wrathful energy crackling and rolling off their chitin coats in waves. "What I do know is a certain group of Changelings who could, and would, say the exact opposite . . ." Amaryllis trailed off, taking a tiny bit of pleasure from seeing the pure rage on her Queen's face. "In fact, I think—" "SHUT UP!" Chrysalis interrupted her once more, finally snapping. A violent beam of magic erupted from the tip of her horn, threatening to wrap Amaryllis in its scorching flames, but a simple shield spell stopped the attack before it reached its target. The ray dissipated into curls of black smoke, but the shiny lavender bubble encasing Amaryllis remained in place. "Really, Your Majesty?" She made the royal title sound like an insult, and then smiled to reveal small, sharp fangs. "Have at it." "You think you can defeat me by yourself, little niece?" Queen Chrysalis reared onto her hindhooves and released a volley of emerald fireballs. "No," was all Amaryllis said. Chrysalis seemed to notice that something was amiss, and her face twisted. "You insect! What have you done?!" she roared, leaping for Amaryllis— That was when the doors exploded. A flare of citrus-colored magic cleared away the smoking splinters of wood and the blizzard of burnt dust, unveiling five other female Changeling thaumaturges of distant royal blood, all clad in silk robes of midnight black, all wearing ancient-looking gemstone pendants around their necks. Lady Rosette, Chrysalis's archmage and Amaryllis's second-in-command (in the case of magics, of course), had her scarlet mane done up in a neat, low bun, its color almost matching the vibrant shade of the ruby dangling from her necklace. Lady Serenity's night-blue hair was straight and flying free; her sapphire pendant glowed like a chunk cut from the night sky. Lady Viridescence stood tall and proud as always, the tips of her leaf-hued curls partly obscuring the shimmer of the emerald at her chest. Lady Amber's wavy, luscious orange mane complimented her carved topaz charm perfectly, as did her tail. And blind-eyed Lady Pearl's floor-length white hair almost covered the gleaming moonstone that was her necklace. Lastly, in spite of their dire situation, Amaryllis winked at her friends and pulled out the amethyst that had been hidden by the neckline of her robe. Six pairs of eyes—glowing purple, brilliant red, summer blue, natural green, sunny orange, and milky white—shot daggers at their Queen, blazing with determination and defiance. "Well, Auntie?" Amaryllis turned back to Queen Chrysalis and smirked. "Not so sure of yourself now, are you?" Chrysalis's scathing gaze swept over the unflinching mages. "All of this for a little foal?" she demanded. "How petty. You five would risk your lives to save my pathetic grandniece?" "This is not just about Astral Swiftstrike." Lady Pearl Brightseer, the eldest mage here, stepped forward instead of Rosette, who was usually the leader. Her opal eyes, clouded and glazed with blindness and age, shone with the fierce light of wisdom. "Your reign of terror has gone on for far too long. Now, it is time to end that." "You can't kill me. It's a simple fact," Chrysalis growled, but her eyes darted around as if she were suddenly scared. "I have no heir. The Changeling throne will be left empty, and no one would be willing to accept just anyone." "But you've forgotten one thing, dear aunt." Amaryllis's horn began to glow, followed by the colored auras of her fellow thaumaturges. "We have the one thing that you can never have." The pendants at their necks started to sparkle as well, matching the Changelings' mane, eye, and magic shades. A bold streak of colored light shot out from each gemstone, whirling and twisting together to form a thick, single rainbow. "Impossible!" Chrysalis shouted, even as a green shield glimmered into existence in front of her, guided by her horn. "Changelings cannot summon Harmony magic! Where did you obtain this power?" "You're wrong, Majesty." Lady Rosette closed her eyes and smiled. "This is our magic." "I'LL BE BACK!" The Queen's screech split the air for seven heartbeats. And then, she was gone. "I will be back, I promise you . . ." Her whisper lingered long after she vanished. "Something's not right," Amaryllis murmured, inspecting the remains of the scene with Rosette, Serenity, Viridescence, Amber, and Pearl. "I have a bad feeling about my aunt . . ." Her eyes widened. "NO!" It can't be. She's dead! No one could have predicted it. None of them saw it coming. BANG. Jets of green flame and sprays of molten lava exploded right where the purple-maned mage stood. Smoke rolled over the others, cries of alarm ripped from their throats. The screams were abruptly cut off. The black smoke cleared. Pearl Brightseer stood alone in front of a towering Changeling Queen, sightless eyes wide with horror. The new Queen smiled thinly. "Let's dance, shall we?"
1. Coming and LeavingBadlands Hive, fifteen years later . . . Truly coming home was a concept that was completely unknown to Astral Swiftstrike. She had only ever been greeted (with quite the enthusiasm . . .) by the Queen's Guard upon returning from a mission, before being escorted straight to the royal throne room. Warm welcomes evidently did not exist here, but Astral couldn't care less. Who would, with a ruler like hers? Today was no different. Astral stalked through the Hive with three stoic Changeling guards—one on each side of her, the last tailing them. She was careful to maintain the perfect, deceptive mask that she wore every moment of every day, which she put on not just for the watchers, but for her own sake as well. She was rewarded for this by the fear, awe, and respect in the eyes of every Changeling they passed. "Astral." Lady Pearl, the eldest court thaumaturge of the Hive, stepped out of the shadows of an alcove just ahead, her moon-white mane blending surprisingly well into the darkness. She still wore the traditional, flowing robes of a Queen's high-ranking mage, but extra-fancy embroidery and an Empathy Crystal pendant signified that she was retired and holding a different position but still a master of magics. Pearl had been assigned as the Changeling Queen's royal adviser twelve years ago, just after resignation from her previous occupation. After the death of Astral's mother, Amaryllis Swiftstrike, Pearl had taken the role of guardian and teacher to the younger Changeling. She was also referred to by the ignorant drones as "Her Crazy Old Ladyship", though no one would dare say it to her face, or Astral's. One particularly impolite young guard-in-training had learned his lesson well after taking a ball of firelit thorns to the muzzle from the Hive's best combat magician and promptly getting demoted even further. "Welcome home, Shadow," Pearl greeted her, matching her stride to Astral's as they continued on through the halls. "Was your mission successful?" The question was needless, as this Queen's Shadow had never failed before. "Yes, Pearl. It's a pleasure to see you again," replied Astral, looking straight ahead. Could she ever call this place her home? "Mission Sundae Sunday is complete, and the target was taken care of." A short laugh escaped Lady Pearl. "Indeed, Her Majesty does not disappoint with the amusing titles for your missions." Astral cast a sideways glance at the older mage. Though Pearl would never say it out loud, Astral knew that her mentor harbored a deep, secret hatred for the Queen, buried inside her heart like a burning ember. However, the reason for Pearl's resentment was not within her knowledge. It must have been a very, very good reason. Pearl Brightseer's blind, opalescent eyes saw everything when everyone else saw nothing. "Ah, did the Queen say anything to you about my next assignment?" Astral asked. Between her tasks, which mostly involved assassinations and spying, she very rarely had any free time to do what she wanted. The few days she spent in the Hive were overflowing with obligations: training wayward soldiers in the Queen's Army and the Guard, inspecting the magical defenses and setting up new ones, going over attack strategies and war plans (just in case) with the other thaumaturges. "When I asked, Her Majesty only winked and said that it was a surprise you'd enjoy." Pearl's long, crooked black horn glowed iridescent white; her magic wrapped around a bejeweled gold pocketwatch hanging from her neck—Astral had always wondered why her guardian carried a watch when she could not see the time—and levitated it in front of Astral's face. "What time is it?" "Nearly dawn. Huh, I traveled all night and didn't have time to sleep," Astral said. Pearl's aura dissipated, leaving the watch to dangle on its chain. "Anyway, a surprise from the Queen? She must have been joking if she thought I would enjoy it." She snorted, blowing a stray lock of hair out of her eyes with a small puff of breath. "We are here. Prepare yourselves for the presence of our Queen," interrupted one of the guards. The two doorkeepers standing next to the throne room entrance thumped the ends of their long black spear shafts in perfect unison. Astral and Pearl fell silent, straightening even more until they were ramrods and schooling their features like marble statues. The looming black doors, carved with the large image of a Changeling swarm flying in the night sky that was gilded with silver, opened without a single creak. The throne room of the Badlands Hive was just as impressive and regal as it was terrifying. A long, wide silk carpet ran the length of the high-ceilinged, rectangular chamber, leading all the way from the doors to the throne. Silver braziers, containing cold flames of blue and green, stood in neat rows that bordered the sides of the carpet. Misshapen shadows stretched across the black floor and the dark, velvet-draped stone walls. Large shards of broken mirror hung magically suspended in the air, mostly gathered around the throne, along with a number of scattered Empathy Crystals, the most prized treasure of this Hive. The Queen's Throne itself was a tall, hulking sculpture of pure midnight marble, carrying a strange elegance within its twisted angles and sprinkled holes. And on that throne sat a Changeling Queen. She leaned forward, her body still shrouded in shadow. Only her piercing green dragon eyes could be seen, narrowed, drilling little holes into the subjects of her scrutiny. The tips of her teal mane, most of which was laced with dangling gems and neatly done up in an intricate hairdo, seemed to smolder in the sea-green firelight. "Perfect timing, Lady Swiftstrike," the Queen purred in a voice as smooth as satin yet with an underlying tone sharper than flint. "Welcome back to my Hive." Pearl, a soft growl in her throat, was ignored. Astral met her monarch's gaze with a level stare of her own. "Your Majesty. I have successfully completed Mission Sundae Sunday as of two nights ago." She forced every emotion from her voice, biting back defiance and hatred. The Queen smiled. "Wonderful. You are just like your mother—the punctuality, the accomplishments, and of course, we cannot forget the looks. Why, Mother was jealous of her own mage's beauty, did you know?" Her horn flashed green, and the biggest chunk of glass floated over to Astral, forcing the young thaumaturge to look her own reflection in the eye. The mare in the mirror wore her gold-striped, royal purple mane in a long, loose side braid that brushed the floor, complimenting the amethyst-trimmed, black silk robe that swished softly whenever she moved. Around her neck was a silver chain from which hung a crystal with glowing colors of both violet and gold. Her gaze was hard and cold, befitting of a Shadow; her left eye was golden amber, while her right was the same purple of her dead mother's eyes. Her wings were the same contrasting colors. She was scowling when she pushed the mirror away with a flare of magic. "Enough. What is my next task, Your Majesty?" Anger sparked from her coat, crackling in the air between them. "Always right on point. Fine," the Queen replied loftily. "You will have a companion for this mission, whom you will train and teach along the way. Guards, bring her in." A . . . trainee? Astral looked to Pearl for an explanation, but her mentor only shook her head. You'll see. The doors opened once more, and three Changelings stepped inside: two of them were clearly soldiers, carrying spears and dressed in lightweight black armor, walking on either side of the third figure. This one was most certainly not any common Changeling. She was small and lithe, appearing to be a few years younger than Astral, with a well-polished coat of black chitin and a long, thick mane of soft, loose curls the color of Equestria's summer sky, matching the exact shade of her petal-shaped wings. Her eyes were silver, unlike any Changeling's eyes that Astral had seen before, and she was bedecked in finery—expensive-looking silks of cerulean and silver, strings of sapphires and diamonds, gilded horseshoes and jeweled regalia that was fit for royalty and only royalty. She was beautiful, but also fragile and pampered. "This is my foolish twelve-year-old daughter, Princess Solstice," the Queen introduced. "She's your first cousin twice removed . . . or something like that. I'm sure you've seen her around the Hive, or at least heard of her. She spends almost all of her time in the library, holed up among those books she likes so much. You, Lady Swiftstrike, are going to train her to be the next Shadow." This breakable little princess was going to be her successor? Astral stared in disbelief until Pearl gave her a sharp nudge in the side. "Yes, Your Majesty," she said, snapping back into stiff posture. "And now, your mission: travel to Equestria's capital city, Canterlot, and capture Crown Prince Valiant Heart. Do not kill him, not until you get him back here," continued the Queen. "He is the son of Princess Twilight Sparkle of Equestria and Prince Blueblood VII of House Blueblood. In one week's time, the Alicorn Princesses will host a ball to celebrate the Prince's seventeenth birthday; you will ponynap him at the castle, after the event. Lady Brightseer will provide you with false invitations so that you can sneak in without raising suspicion. I expect you to return with him in a cage by the night of the new moon—in thirteen days. Is this clear?" "Crystal, Your Majesty." Astral dipped her head to the Queen. Hmm, he is close to my own age. I wonder . . . what kind of pony Valiant Heart is. "May I ask what you want the Crown Prince for?" "No, you may not. That is none of your concern, not at the moment," the Queen answered curtly. "Rest until midnight tonight, and then I want you two on your way. Understood? Good. You are dismissed. And Lady Brightseer, I want to see you in my chambers after this." "Yes, Your Majesty," Astral and Pearl chorused, bowing respectfully. "Yes, my Queen," mumbled Princess Solstice in a barely audible whisper, lowering her head. Once they had exited the throne room, Pearl gave Astral the invitations and a tiny smile. "I will not be there to see you off, but I wish you the best of luck," she said, turning to go. "That prince is one of the most well-guarded ponies in Equestria." "Thank you, but I don't need that luck!" Astral called after her old teacher, smiling back. She looked down and realized that she was standing in the middle of the hallway with the Crown Princess of the Badlands Changeling Hive. "Your Highness, when would be a preferable time for us to leave for Equestria?" Astral asked her. She straightened the sash of her robes, feeling a little awkward. Here she was, talking to her superior for the first time. A superior who was younger and soon to receive training from Astral. "Please, don't call me that, Lady Astral. Solstice is fine. You are older, and the one teaching me, after all, so . . . it's weird." The princess looked away, fidgeting with her jewelry. "Oh . . ." Astral trailed off, then brightened. "Well, I'll give you a deal. If I call you Solstice, then you have to call me Astral. Just that, no honorifics. Okay?" Slowly, a small smile grew on Solstice's face. "Okay!" "Do you have everything?" Astral tugged at the strap of her black saddlebags to tighten it, a checklist levitating in front of her. It was midnight, just about time to leave; they were going over the supplies on the list one more time. The basic necessities included food and water and bedrolls for travel, a pouch of Equestrian bits for the capital city, fancy gowns for the ball (where they would be disguised as ponies, of course) a collection of very sharp knives and daggers, tranquilizer darts and various nonlethal poisons. Just normal things like that. "Did you receive the invitations?" Solstice asked, struggling to neatly shove her dress into her bag. "I don't recall seeing them when we were packing." "Oh, yes, Lady Pearl gave them to me just before she went to see the Queen—here they are." Astral took the cards out of some secret pocket in her bag and brought them up to eye level. The invitations were made of a thick, cream-colored paper with ornamental gold scrollwork. Each read the same thing, in impractical, swirly gold script: You are cordially invited To Crown Prince Valiant Heart's 17th birthday masquerade ball In the Canterlot Castle ballroom On the twentieth night of this lunar cycle. Your presence will be much appreciated! "Hmm, very convincing," Solstice commented. "So, what is the plan for the next twenty-four hours?" "Travel, for the next two days, in fact. That's how long it'll take to get to Canterlot," Astral answered. She and Solstice had abandoned their usual Hive attire so that no clothing would slow their flying, but there were dark cloaks on hoof for the colder nights in the Crown City. Solstice flexed her wings, fluttering them rapidly to prepare herself for the long flight ahead. "This is the first time in years that I've been allowed to fly that far." "Oh? When was the last?" Astral looked up briefly from her inspection of a slender dagger. "I was six years old, and didn't know better at the time," Solstice remembered. "I wanted to see if I could get all the way to the border of the Badlands and Equestria. Needless to say, it didn't end well for me. Mother sent out some soldiers to retrieve me, and when we returned, she was angrier than I'd ever seen her." "I see. When I was younger, I ran into more trouble than you could imagine. Shall I relay the tales to you on the way there?" Astral sheathed the dagger and strapped it to the outside of her saddlebags for easy access. One could never be too cautious. Solstice laughed. "Please do!" Perched in the shadows of her bedroom window, the Queen watched her daughter and her Shadow leave together, with Pearl at her side. "They seem to work well together," she noted, twirling the wineglass held in her magical grasp. "Don't you agree, Lady Brightseer?" "Yes, Your Majesty." Pearl, hiding her private hatred, tilted a wine bottle forward to refill the Queen's glass with sunset-colored liquid. "A formidable pair, I would say." "Astral Swiftstrike is exactly the kind of weapon I need," the Queen went on, tossing back the wine all at once. She flashed a fanged smile, wiping her lips with the sleeve of her royal robe. "I wonder if she can really train that pathetic daughter of mine. It would be a miraculous feat, I believe." She sighed, leaning against the windowsill. "Being Queen of an entire Hive is surprisingly euphoric. After all, Mother did leave behind the most wonderful luxuries, and quite a few trophies, too. The reign of Queen Chrysalis would have been great, but no . . . she was too weak. "But I will be different, Mother. I will become the terror of all kingdoms in this world. "Soon, everyone will fear the name of Queen Crescent Chrysalis Duskheart, the greatest Queen in history."
2. The Valiant PrinceCanterlot, two days later . . . The chilly bite of the autumn air pierced Valiant's coat as soon as he stepped out of the castle's sheltering warmth. He tugged the hood of his dark gray cloak forward over his face, trying to be as inconspicuous as a pony could possibly be while wearing something like this. He did realize, however, that perhaps it wasn't the most subtle article of clothing, but the situation couldn't be helped. Valiant was lucky enough to have been able to leave without catching the eye of any guards or palace staff. Or, Celestia forbid, his arrogant, blown-up pufferfish of a father. His mother was busy with an impromptu delegation from Aquastria, the underwater kingdom of the supposedly legendary sea ponies. On an entirely different note, his father was preoccupied by his gaggle of lady admirers and—Valiant was disgusted every time he heard of it—mistresses, probably all poor unsuspecting mares that had been roped in by Prince Blueblood's charming, deceitful smile. Today was his little sister's twelfth birthday. Since Diadem was going through her "open-minded" phase, something curious and exotic from one of Canterlot's many foreign trading markets would be a thoughtful gift. The hustle and bustle of the city's largest market, dubbed Lilias, grew louder as Valiant joined the surging crowd of shoppers. He was jostled and shoved and jabbed by the suffocating abundance of bodies, but this was nothing compared to the horde of shrieking mares that had broken into last year's Grand Galloping Catastrophe—ahem, Gala. It still gave him shudders. He shook off the nightmarish memory and politely wove his way through the throng, keeping his head down and eyes alert. Ah, there. One stand in particular caught his eye. Run by a griffon and his business partner, a gray-striped zebra, it was selling a mix of peculiar artifacts from, unsurprisingly, Griffonstone and Zebrica. Perfect! Dia would love to have one of these . . . wait, is that a dragon's claw? Valiant pushed forward, muttering a hasty apology to the pegasus he'd elbowed on the way, and stopped in front of the booth. And stared. The female zebra, an older shamaness most likely, wore a flowing, patterned cloth that wrapped seamlessly around her shoulders and barrel and just barely brushed the ground. Strands and strands of gemstones and wooden beads hung from her neck, so many that Valiant could hardly believe that she could stand up straight with all the weight, and gold-and-silver bangles jingled on her forelegs. Thick golden hoops pierced her pricked ears; her long, gray-and-white braid glittered with jewels and swung back and forth like a pendulum when she stepped forward to greet customers. A strange, cloudy feeling settled over him at the sight of her. Do I know her from somewhere? I think I would have remembered meeting a zebra kahuna . . . Only when the griffon, a wiry bird with dark brown feathers and a sharp silver gaze, cleared his throat did Valiant realize that he'd been staring for a few minutes now. "Apologies for my rudeness, sir," he said in the polished voice he had practiced that morning. "I was just noticing that fascinating dragon's talon over there. Is it real?" While the zebra went to retrieve the claw, the griffon nodded, puffing his chest proudly. "Yes, in fact. Griffonstone's greatest strength and pride was once the Platinum Wing, a battalion of trained soldiers that defended the kingdom from large-scale attackers and invaders. The Wing specialized in killing dragons, and quite a lot of souvenirs from their epic battles have been discovered beneath the old castle of King Boreas. This is just one we managed to dig up." "Very interesting. May I see it?" Valiant took hold of the offered talon in his silver unicorn magic, turning it this way and that. The jade-green scales were small, hard, and smooth, like brand-new armor, and the spear-like tips of the darker green claws glinted in the sunlight. It ended in the wrist area with a clean edge, as if the talon had simply been sliced off the arm with a very sharp blade. Dragon scales did not give way easily. Yes, intriguing, but I doubt that Diadem would want a creepy dragon claw for her birthday present. He carefully placed the appendage back on the table. "Would this interest you, young prince?" He froze. They found me out! Heart thumping, Valiant turned to the zebra shamaness, who was smiling kindly at him with a knowing twinkle in her aqua-blue eyes that were so hauntingly familiar. Spread out on the shelf in front of her was a neat array of crystals, each carved with a unique symbol and shining with vibrant but also gentle colors. "You said—what—er—?" Valiant bit his tongue to cut off his own sudden stuttering. "Ma'am." "Ziahra is my name," the zebra said, lightly touching the gem-studded golden rings encircling her throat. "You are here for your sister, the second princess, are you not? I believe that these Zebrican glitter crystals will satisfy both of you." "Glitter crystals?" Valiant bent down for a closer look, still unnerved by the kahuna's uncanny knowledge and those warm eyes that seemed to look right into his mind. He realized that the clear stones were not just one color, but each one contained at least two hazy hues that swirled slowly inside the crystal and throbbed with faint light. "They are found . . . only in the darkest . . . most dangerous . . . of places . . ." Ziahra's eerily soft voice wafted around him like wisps of smoke curling in the air. "Longevity . . . luck . . . happiness . . . peace . . . they bring to you . . . the best that this horrid life . . . can offer." Did she say horrid? Valiant inspected a crystal that glowed with shades of indigo and pink and golden yellow, reminding him of the pretty mane that Diadem possessed but had never cared much about. The etched symbol on it looked sort of like a stylized pegasus wing. Fitting. "Ah, a good choice," Ziahra said, taking the stone from him. Her voice returned to normal. "This one, Vryheid Van Vlug, literally means, translated from Zebrican, 'freedom of flight'. It suits the princess, don't you think?" "Stop reading my thoughts!" Valiant blurted out impulsively, then slapped both hooves over his mouth. Idiot! Ziahra merely smiled, paying no heed to his outburst. "Do you wish to have it?" The glitter crystal held in her hoof flashed brighter, beckoning to him. "Yes. All right." Valiant reached into a hidden inside pocket of his cloak to take out a pouch filled with bits nabbed from his little box of self-earned savings (self-earned: the money he made by anonymously selling off his useless jewelry. And: why would a prince need bits of his own?). "No, no, no," the zebra said, pushing the gold pieces back to him, with the crystal. Her eyes had glazed over suddenly; she somehow didn't seem like herself anymore. "Young prince, further along the path you walk, there will be a much greater cost than that of this stone. Keep that in mind, and these bits, if you would." The shamaness smiled once more, the glassy look vanishing. "Keep that in mind," she repeated, and turned away to help another browser. Valiant stared after her, feeling more than a little confused and creeped-out. "I'll . . . keep that in mind," he said. He wasn't sure if Ziahra could hear him, but unbeknownst to the first prince of Equestria, the kahuna's ear twitched and a tiny sparkle entered her jewel-blue gaze. "You'll need to, young Highness," she whispered, almost inaudibly. "Oh, you will need to." Valiant levitated Diadem's glitter crystal into his pocket, determined to get back to the castle safely—and before anypony noticed that he was gone and stirred up alarm. The last thing he needed was public attention, and Royal Guard search parties attracted attention regardless of where they were or who they were looking for. He had discovered that more than ten years ago, and he wasn't planning to relearn the lesson. Just as he was leaving Lilias Market, he bumped into another pony, this time a mare who wore a black cloak similar to his own. At least, he thought it was a mare; feminine-looking, large purple eyes peered at him from the shadows of her hood. No, not all purple, he thought. The color is splattered with flecks of gold. What? "Sorry, ma'am, I didn't see you there," Valiant apologized to her in a rush. He was starting to hurry away when the mare's voice stopped him in his tracks. "Ma'am? That makes me sound old." Eyes narrowing slightly, the stranger stepped closer, but not so close that she was invading his personal space. "And why, pray tell, would I be the one to run into His Royal Highness Prince Valiant Heart at a common trading market?" Chills rushed down Valiant's spine. She knows! "H-How do you know I'm him, and not just another shopper?" He kept his words calm, but inside, his thoughts were roiling. If word gets out that I'm here . . . Celestia help me. "You are the crown prince of Equestria. Who would know you?" The mare snorted sardonically, arching one brow. He was surprised and a little impressed. It was the most sarcastic statement he'd ever heard, and coming from a citizen, no less. It was new, and he quite liked it. "Nopony?" he tried, as a response to her previously rhetorical question. She didn't laugh, although Valiant detected a hint of a smirk beneath the cloak. "Well then. Be careful on your way back to the castle, Your Highness." "I will . . ." Nodding farewell to the mare, he turned to leave. Then, another thought occurred to him, and he whipped around. "Wait! Miss—" She was gone. Among the dozens of other ponies, Valiant couldn't make out the black-clad form anywhere. Feeling weirdly disappointed, he started to head back home. But for some reason, he couldn't get those strange encounters out of his head. First the zebra kahuna, who seemed to just know him, and then this mare . . . Not to mention the floating piece of cake that morning (but it could have been a prank, courtesy of his sister and her unicorn friend). He shook his head. What was going on today? He found Diadem in the Royal Guard's training arena, beating the new recruits to a pulp in swordfighting. "Which one of you hopeless greenhorns wants to challenge me next?" the second princess of Equestria called out, brandishing the polished wooden sword she held between her teeth. There had been nearly twenty duels so far, and she wasn't even breaking out a sweat yet. Murmurs and a lot of shoving broke out among the crowd of fresh young guards until one stallion stumbled forward, a scrawny-looking blue earth pony who looked like he hadn't hit his teenage growth spurt yet. "I-I will!" he squeaked, attempting a wobbly salute. This drew snickers from various trainees, but a single look from Diadem silenced them instantly. "Very well. I admire your determination, newbie." The pale-lavender-coated royal tossed him a training sword that he fumbled to catch. "What's your name?" "Tsu-Tsunami Spray, Your Highness!" he stammered, beads of sweat gathering on his forehead. "Well, Private Spray, I hope you're ready!" Diadem looked at the day's training overseer, Captain Goldspear of the Royal Guard. "Captain, on your mark." "GO!" Goldspear shouted immediately, pounding his hoof once on the stone floor of the arena. The swords clashed soon after that. Tsunami Spray was surprisingly fast and nimble, dodging the attacks quickly, but regardless, he was no match for the princess. He was slowly losing with each parry and straight attack; sweat was streaming from his face now, but still he didn't stop. "Dia, it isn't a fair fight when they're untrained and going against you, whose Guard rank would be equivalent to the captain's," Valiant called from his spot atop the low stone wall that surrounded the area. At the sight of the first prince, Tsunami's eyes widened and he staggered, failing to block Diadem's swift attack and getting a blunted wood sword-tip in the cheek. Valiant began to feel a little bad for startling him. Whispers rose from the rest of the gathered recruits. Diadem turned her head to look at him, and her grin widened. Wow, Little Sis sure looks like she's having fun. "I'm going way, way easy on them!" she laughed around the sword hilt clenched in her mouth. "If I were being serious, these green colts would drop down dead in this arena!" At these words, several of the "green colts" turned a few shades paler. Valiant smirked as he watched his oh-so-smug younger sister. Diadem had never been much liked by their father all because she was a pegasus and not a unicorn like Valiant, Prince Blueblood, and their mother, Princess Twilight Sparkle, before she ascended. She got the rough end of the stick every time. Princess Twilight treated both of her foals fairly, but that just added to the problem and contributed to an abundance of the many fights between her and her husband. It hadn't even been Twilight Sparkle's own choice to marry the prissy, stuck-up unicorn prince who was only a prince in title and only had power because of her. Diadem had never held a grudge against Valiant for being their father's favorite—they had been the best of friends since the younger's birth—but Valiant knew that his sister resented Prince Blueblood with a purple passion. It bordered on hatred, but there were rare occasions when Father was actually kind to both of them. You deserve only the best, Dia, and I know that you will make it happen all on your own, because that's the amazing kind of pony you are. "Hey! Val! Are you dreaming again?" A purple hoof waved in front of his face and smacked him on the nose. "Owwww! Hey!" Valiant protested, shoving Diadem's hoof away. He blinked, rubbing his muzzle (which was no doubt reddening by now), and looked around. The recruits were filing out of the arena in little knots, chatting and laughing with each other as if they had been friends for years, and they hadn't just met each other days ago. "Those young stallions, beaten by a twelve-year-old, huh?" Valiant grinned, nudging his little sister in the side. "I bet they'll have some interesting stories to tell when you're done with them . . . Dear Mommy, the princess is so strong and hot! I wish I could—" Diadem elbowed him back, really really hard. "Shut up, Val!" she said, deliberately using her brother's "girl" nickname, though she was smiling, too. "Oh! I almost forgot, I have something for you," Valiant said, retrieving the crystal from his cloak pocket. "Happy birthday, Dia." She took the stone from him, turning it and flipping it over with a curious frown. "What is it?" "A Zebrican glitter crystal." He watched her reaction carefully. "This one is what—Vryheid Van Vlug?—and it means 'freedom of flight'," he said, quoting Ziahra's words. "I thought it would suit you . . . do you like it?" Diadem's face had been blank up until now, but a brilliant smile lit up her face. "It's perfect. I love it! Thanks, Val!" she shouted in his ear before throwing her forelegs around him. Valiant choked, but he was happy. After all, nothing was better than being strangled by his younger sister, right? Nothing matters to me more than your happiness.
