Night Over Canterlot

Canterlot, 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.