Evil is Easy, Governing is Harder
As anypony who’s ever met Pinkie Pie can tell you, the line between absolute genius and absolute idiocy is exceedingly thin.
Extremes, you see, are closer to each other than to the center; reality is shaped like a horseshoe in that way. Anything, while pushed to its absolute limit, will start to resemble its total opposite. This is the so-called Law of Political Cartoonists, and it’s an undeniable truth.
Consider, now, an extremely benevolent monarch.
Celestia was drinking chamomile tea that morning, and having a pleasant chat with her sister while handling some extremely important papers. They were the kind of papers that included the words “war,” “minotaur,” and “imminent death” in bold letters. They were the bureaucratic equivalent of a big red button branded END OF THE WORLD JUST PUSH HERE.
And Celestia was barely glancing at them.
“So let me get this straight,” Luna was saying, tapping her cup of tea. It was empty already. “We do not approve of slavery anymore.”
“No.”
“Because of politics.”
Celestia looked to the side. She had perfect posture—you could use her back to measure the angles of the walls. “Well, King Sombra gave slavery a bad name, I’m afraid. Also, we believe in the idea of freedom, and how every pony deserves a list of fundamental rights.”
“Because of politics. I see.” Luna nodded, and pointed at Celestia. “But we do not pay our Royal Guards.”
A pause.
“No. No, we don’t.”
“But they are not slaves.”
“No,” Celestia said. “They’re volunteers. They offer their services to the Crown, and—”
“And Spike.”
Another pause, this time shorter. Celestia cocked her head to the side. “Spike?”
“Spike,” Luna said. “Last name ‘Dragon’, middle name ‘the’. He follows every single one of Twilight Sparkle’s orders, and lives and dies by her word. But, I take, he is not a slave.”
Celestia frowned. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a servant carrying two more cups of tea—and signaled him to serve them. Hot water, a bit of milk, and ready. “Well,” she said. “I wouldn’t say he lives and dies by her word, although I’ll admit that’s a morally gray situation.”
Luna took the new cup of tea and sipped from it. “Then I—eugh. Eeeugh. This tastes like lava, Sister.”
“And what does lava taste like, again?”
“Hot dirt.”
Celestia sighed. “I like chamomile tea.”
“Horrible taste.” Luna put the teacup down, and then looked at Celestia. “Okay. Cows.”
“…Cows.”
“Cows. What are cows?”
Celestia gave this a little bit of thought, and eventually put the END OF THE WORLD JUST PUSH HERE papers to the side. “I don’t—are we talking biology, or politics?”
“Politics.” A beat. “Wait. Cows have not evolved too much in the last thousand years, right? They are the same as when I was banished.”
“Yes.”
“Oh. Thank the stars.” Luna made a gesture as if to sweep the sweat away from her head. With the spoon. “I am still not over what happened to the possums. Okay, then—politics, Sister. We are talking politics. What are cows?”
“They’re…” Celestia frowned. “Um. Well.”
“They are slaves.”
“They’re.” Celestia squinted. “Hmm. Luna, you must understand a princess must always measure her words when—”
“You are looking for a way to say ‘slaves’ in a politically correct way.”
“I’m more partial to ‘second-class citizens’, personally.”
Luna replied to this with the biggest of smirks, which, in Celestia’s opinion, was about the worst way for a monarch to react to the discovery that their society has second-class citizens. “That is more like it. I dislike politics, Sister. I believe they come from a place of dishonesty. I am not saying I support slavery, but only a fool would—”
Celestia arched an eyebrow. “You adored having slaves.”
“They were really convenient.” Luna brandished the spoon once more. “You know what, Sister? We should become despots. That sounds like fun.”
Celestia rolled her eyes, took a sip of tea…
And something interesting happened.
It tasted horrible. The tea—the one Celestia had picked herself, her favorite tea—tasted extremely unpleasant to her tongue. She did not show this in her face, but her ears did perk up in surprise. Chamomile tea, and she disliked it.
So she said, “Well, now I wonder if we should become tyrants.”
“Really?” Luna looked at her ears, and understanding dawned on her. “Oh. The tea?”
“Indeed. Do you think it will be hard? To rule under with an iron hoof?”
“Oh, I am sure we’ll manage.”
And that’s all it took.
Three months of darkness, and Canterlot looked exactly the same—but for a Castle that was now black, and with enough spikes to make a young dragon feel inadequate. It was a hedgehog made building. Celestia now lived in a giant morning star.
Daring Do, hero extraordinaire, arrived upon Canterlot Castle with her hat in one hoof and her whip in the other.
The BOOM! of the doors to the Throne Room being kicked open echoed through the halls of the Castle like thunder through an open field, and Daring Do lowered her leg, teeth bared in a wolfish snarl. “Celestia!” she said, and her voice was raw with the thirst for justice.
Curtains drawn, deep purple walls—the Throne Room was cast in the darkest of shadows. At the end, lit by candlelight, lay an obsidian throne. Sitting on it, snow-white coat stark against the black jewels that now adorned her chest and hooves, was Celestia, the Tyrant Queen. A blood-red crown rested on her head.
She smiled, and it was the pleasant, gentle smile Daring Do had known and loved for so many years. “Daring Do,” the Tyrant said. “What a pleasant surprise.”
“Your reign is over,” Daring said. “I never thought the day when you and I fought would come, Princess… If you’re still deserving of that title.” And with absolute finality, Daring brandished her whip and pointed at Celestia. “But this is it. I’ve come to free Equestria from you. The sun is not the only thing going down tonight!”
Celestia cackled. Well, more like gently chuckled, but her official title was Tyrant so legally that was a cackle. “My dear Daring Do, I’m afraid that’s not my cup of tea.”
Pause.
“…Um.” Celestia blinked, and something that might as well have been pink rose to her cheeks. “Sorry, I—was that not appropriate? I feel that wasn’t appropriate. I’m sorry, I’m just not really used to this yet. May we start over again?”
Daring Do squinted. “Do not play with me. You kidnapped—”
“Of course, of course. This is embarrassing. I apologize.” Celestia sighed, and then offered Daring Do a little smile. “I hope you do not mind if I contact my sister, Daring Do. She’s more experienced in the matters of villainy, I admit.” And her horn lit up.
Daring Do immediately tensed, and her hoof went straight for the saddlebag. “Oh, no!” she yelled. “You do—”
With a poof! and a bit of sparkly smoke, Luna appeared right next to Celestia. She had fangs, now, and bat-like wings. Her mane and fur were both darker. “Sister? I was about to greet the Minotaur King.”
“Luna,” Celestia said. “I’m sorry, I just—I couldn’t do it. I’m afraid I messed up the one-liner.”
“Aw, really? We practiced so much, too. Such a shame.”
“I’m sorry.”
Luna shook her head. “No, no. Nopony ever said it was easy.” Then, she noticed Daring Do, who was still dramatically reaching into her saddlebag, and was by now clearly feeling inadequate. “Oh. Hello, Daring Do. You are here already?”
Daring Do squinted even harder. She looked like a racist stereotype. “You kidnapped my assistant.”
“And you bested my sister in a one-liner match,” Luna said, batting her bat-like wings and shrugging. She approached Daring Do ever-so-slightly, in an overly casual way, then looked at Celestia. “What did she say, anyway?”
“She made a reference to the sun going down every night, and then assured me that my fate would be the same.”
“Ooooh. Oh, that’s a good one. And you replied with…?”
A moment of hesitation, and then Celestia looked to the side. “Um,” she said. “About that.”
There is a certain expression that’s almost impossible to describe. The face you make when your little sibling gets naked in front of your crush, or when your twin forgets your birthday.
That’s the face Princess Luna made at Celestia.
“…You used the cup of tea line again, didn’t you.”
“I—”
Luna rubbed her temples. “It is noon. You could have just pointed out that it is noon, and so the sun is actually at its highest. This was so easy. And you went with the cup of tea line anyway.”
“I got stressed, and I could not think straight!”
“Sigh.” Luna shook her head. “You know what that means.” A flash of her horn, and a rolled-up newspaper appeared right next to her face and floated towards Celestia. “This hurts me more than it hurts you, Sister.”
Celestia didn’t falter. She faced death with dignity. “Must we?” she asked.
“We must.” Luna shook her head, and her magical grip on the rolled-up newspaper tightened. “Sister?”
“Yes?”
“Do not use the cup of tea line.”
And she whapped Celestia on the muzzle with the newspaper.
“Ouch.”
“Well then!” Luna turned around, happy face on again—it showed off her new fangs; she looked like a particularly cheery rabid dog—and made a doubtlessly friendly gesture towards Daring Do. “That being taken care of, Daring Do, we can just—”
WH-TCHK!
The crack of the whip echoed across the room, and the rolled-up newspaper fell to the floor, neatly cut in two halves.
“Enough games.” Daring Do jerked her head, and the whip came back to her. She talked through gritted teeth, the grip firmly secured in her mouth. “You kidnapped Sugar Song. Tell me where she is.”
Luna looked at the bisected newspaper, and let out a low whistle. “She is really attached to that mare, is she not?” she said.
“Oh, Luna, you couldn’t imagine.” Celestia smiled while saying this; a warm gesture that had no place in such a dark room. “For Sugar Song, Daring Do would go to Tartarus and back. They have the most wonderful of friendships.”
“Sister, that is really not the right reaction for a villain.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Celestia shook her head ever-so-slightly, and then she got up and walked away from her throne, towards Daring Do. There was no fear in her eyes, even after Daring brandished the whip. “I have kidnapped Sugar Song indeed, my dear Daring Do. I cannot tell you the reason—let’s just say, I’ve gone mad with power—but I can tell you that you will not rescue her today.”
Tension rose. The air felt strange, the room itself seemed to hold its breath. The silence was like the last few seconds before the thunderstorm strikes.
Luna stepped aside as her sister walked by, but her eyes never left Daring Do. As for the daredevil herself, she merely gritted her teeth and opened her wings, muscles tensed like bow strings.
But Celestia didn’t mind it. She merely kept on walking on. “In fact,” she said, and her voice was sweet as sugar, old as wood, “I’m afraid you might never see her again.”
Lightning struck.
Many things happened at the same time. A blur, a blink; Daring Do moved. She zigzagged and charged, headfirst, like an arrow being shot, fast, too fast for the eye—
Luna was faster. “No,” she said.
A flash of light.
And Daring fell, she didn’t trip, she fell, hard, crashing against the floor, limbs sprawled in all directions—and she felt herself being pulled amidst the blinding pain, sliding across the room like the puck in a hockey game…
And then something stopped her.
A hoof.
Luna was lightly stepping on her.
“Sister, that was careless,” Luna said, though her tone was too light for the message. “You could have been hurt.”
“You worry too much, Luna.” And Celestia walked by, never looking back, and she passed the doors, and—
Daring yelled. “YOU DON’T GET TO RUN AWAY!”
WH-TCH—
“No.”
And the whip tensed and stopped. Luna’s horn was shining. She had grabbed it mid-lash.
“The same trick will not work twice, I fear.” Luna pulled, and the whip came free from Daring Do’s teeth and flew across the room, like a snake’s carcass in a hurricane. “Although that was impressive! I did not know you could use a whip. I should read your books.”
Daring Do growled more than talked. “Luna,” she said. “You, of all ponies?”
“Well.” Luna frowned, and then looked at Daring Do—who was, by the way, still sprawled behind her hoof—with something like annoyance. “I will admit that I enjoy a more relaxed schedule than my sister, but I am still a princess. I have duties. I cannot just read everything that—”
“This doesn’t make any sense already,” Daring said, ignoring the blabber. “Princess Celestia being a villain, a tyrant, it just… I can’t understand it. But you?”
“Oh, we are talking about that.”
“After all you did, after all you went through, after all you promised… and you just betray Equestria like this, again.” Daring Do didn’t move. “I trusted you. I believed in your redemption when nopony else did. And it never mattered to you?”
Luna blinked. Her face looked perfectly innocent. “There… seems to have been a misunderstanding, Daring Do. Who says I broke my promise?”
“What?”
“My redemption. It was not for this kingdom’s sake,” Luna said, with the voice used to explain the obvious. “It was for my sister. It was she whom I betrayed a thousand years ago, and she who forgave me for it. It is to her that I swore loyalty when I came back.”
Daring Do said nothing.
And Luna saw this, and smiled. “I only care for Celestia. Where she goes, I follow.” And she lowered her head and whispered into Daring’s ear. Her breath was hot and cold, her voice full of dark spice. “As far as I am concerned, Daring Do, Equestria can burn.”
And in that moment, Daring Do could hear the evil in her voice.
She couldn’t repress a shiver.
And then she moved.
THUNK!
“Gggh!” Luna felt something cold and painful in her chest, and took a step back, tripped, fell. Daring Do was holding something against her. Something black, and long, and pointy. She felt the strength abandon her body, and her eyes widened in recognition. “…This,” she whispered with what was left of her voice. “Tirek’s horn. You…”
Daring Do replied with a grim smirk. “Princess Celestia said it herself, didn’t she? I’d go to Tartarus and back.”
And that was the last thing Princess Luna heard before her magic was stolen away and everything went black.
The click-clack of keys in the dark.
Song’s ears perked up.
Somepony was opening the door to her dungeon.
Her body didn’t tense. There were many reasons for this—she’d been working with Daring Do so long that she knew to be relaxed when in danger—but mostly it was because she was chained to the wall by the neck and, frankly, there were better ways to go out than "accidentally suffocating yourself".
Whispers, outside. Song couldn’t recognize the voices. They were too faint.
Sugar Song was a petite unicorn, light blue. She wore a pair of little red glasses. She looked like a schoolteacher who gave candy to the kids who broke down crying, and she’d been held chained to that wall for weeks, maybe even months. When everything was so dark, when you couldn’t see, time had no meaning.
The door opened.
Song held her breath.
“Sugar!”
And the voice—the way the voice almost broke, like there were shards of glass in the speaker’s throat—hit her like a hammer, and the terror went away and for a moment she forgot about her shackles and tried to get up, and not even the sudden lack of oxygen made her go down. “Daring!” she yelled, and soul singers wished they could put as much emotion in her voice. “Daring, in here!”
“Sugar!” The door opened completely, now, and suddenly there was light, and Sugar Song had to blink it away for a second. “Where?!”
Everything was blurry. Song noticed she’d lost her glasses, and she hadn’t even noticed. “To your right!” she said. “In the corner!”
“Sugar Song!” The sound of hoofsteps quick against the stone floor, and suddenly Daring Do was hugging Song, careful to do it against the wall so she wouldn’t choke against the shackles. “Oh, thank the stars. I was so worried, I was just…”
Pause.
Daring Do blinked, unhugged Sugar Song, and took a step back. She coughed, covering her mouth with a hoof, and looked to the side. “Um. Glad to see you’re okay, Song.”
“What?” Song felt like waking up from a dream. “Daring, what are you…”
And then she saw the shadow of somepony else by the door.
“Uh.” And Song shook her head, coughed, and talked with a much more professional voice. “I mean. You sure took your sweet time, Yearling.”
“Well, you know how it goes. Gotta save the world here and there, fight some monsters, can’t just spend all my free time saving my assistant.” Here, Daring looked at Sugar Song, dead in the eye. “You’re okay, though, right?”
And Song didn’t nod, because her neck really hurt by now. “Yeah.”
“They didn’t hurt you?” A look around, and then Daring looked at her with that kind of smirk that shaped her face in a way that cried out for a fist. “Do you know what’s happened in these few weeks? How Equestria’s doing? What the Tyrant is up to?”
Song frowned. “No. They just…”
“So,” Daring interrupted, “they just kept you in the dark.”
A pause.
“Is it too late to ask that you don’t rescue me?”
“Ship’s sailed, Song. I’m afraid I’m all you’ve got.”
Song sighed. “You know what? My mother was right. I should’ve taken that job as a librarian.” She squinted. “Dream job, right there. Nary a pun. How long have you been planning that one?”
“Ever since Princess Luna told me where they were keeping you, really.”
This got Sugar Song’s attention, and her ears perked up. “Princess Luna,” she said. “Princess Luna told you were I am?”
“Hmm.” Daring Do produced a big, old-looking key from her saddlebags, and then started to work on Song’s shackles. “Had to force her a little. Princess?”
“Oh, can I come in? I did not want to interrupt.” The door opened a little bit further, and the shadow standing in front of it came in—Princess Luna, Song could see now. Without glasses, her vision wasn’t perfect, but it’s not like she was blind. Luna looked different, now; she had fangs, her coat was darker, and her bat-like wings were…
“…Tied up?” Song asked. “She’s—Yearling, did you tie up Princess Luna?” Another look. “With a whip?”
“Didn’t have rope.”
“Does it look strange?” Luna tried to turn around to look at her own back, but in doing so, her back also turned around, because that’s how movement worked. “Daring Do told me it did not look strange, but I feel she is merely trying to avoid hurting my feelings.”
“You… I mean, Yearling, those are some interesting knots you made there. Very elaborate. Doesn’t seem to cover all the important bits, though. Where did you learn to tie mares up like this, again?”
“Best way to immobilize wings.” Daring’s voice was gruff. “I’m a pegasus. I know this stuff.”
“Was the part around her flank needed for the wings, too?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.”
Luna cocked her head to the side. “So it does look strange.”
“Strange? Well, I wouldn’t say that much.” A clack! and the shackle around Sugar Song’s neck fell to the floor. She groaned in relief, then looked at Daring, who was now working on the shackles around her hooves. “It’s just… It looks like something Yearling wouldn’t write in one of her books out of fear of losing the PG rating,” Song said.
Daring Do glared at her. “I had,” she said, clearly enunciating each and every word, “no rope. And I had to tie her up, or else she might have flown away. Don’t make this weird.”
“I mean, R-rated books? Not what your usual audience expects, but I’ll admit they do sell well lately.” Now it was Song who had the punchable smirk on her face. “Two beautiful, defenseless mares, trapped in a dark dungeon with you, tied up, only you have the key…”
Another clack!, and Song was finally free. “Well, you’re not tied up anymore, so that’s one thing you got wrong.” She got up, tossed the key to the side—it fell to the ground with a heavy, metallic noise—and looked at Luna. “And I know you’re not stupid enough to think Luna is really defenseless.”
Song just arched an eyebrow at this, and looked from Luna to Daring Do, who was wearing her best Angry Glare. “You never denied the ‘beautiful’ part.”
“Shut up, Song.”
Song didn’t giggle, she was way too dignified for that, but she let a shameless grin get all the way up to her face. She accepted the new pair of glasses Daring Do handed her—oh, they were red too? Nice—and blinked in relief when everything became much clearer. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
“And good…” Song blinked, and looked at Daring. “Afternoon?” Daring nodded, so Song turned to Luna once more. “Afternoon, yes. Good afternoon, Your Highness. It seems like we’re enemies, now.”
Luna beamed at her. “So we are!”
“A shame.” And Song meant it. She did not let her voice show it, but her glare hardened. “I respected you, Your Highness. I thought we were friends. It seems like I was wrong.”
“There is no need to be melancholic, Sugar Song,” Princess Luna said, standing tall in spite of the questionable ropes—whip—around her wings, and she looked majestic still. “After all we have been through, I believe there will always be a bond between us, no matter what.”
Song shook her head. “Your Highness,” she said, “you betrayed Equestria. You and your sister became despots. Some things can’t be forgiven, even if—”
“Remember when we saved Hearth’s Warming together?”
Pause.
“Actually, I do. That was fun.” She thought about this. “You know, maybe I’m overreacting a little.” Song looked at Daring. “Are we overreacting, Yearling?”
“They kidnapped you and kept you in a dungeon for weeks,” Daring said. “Also, they betrayed Equestria. Reign with an iron hoof.” She squinted. “They even got an obsidian throne. Completely black.”
“…An obsidian throne?”
Luna beamed again. “It was my idea!”
“Wow. But, I mean.” Song sighed. “Yearling, Princess Luna did help us save Hearth’s Warming. And I even rediscovered the true meaning of the festivity. You have to admit, that was a good adventure.”
Daring Do didn’t relent. “It was fine.”
“It was fun!” Luna said. “I have always remembered it fondly, Sugar Song.”
Song looked at Luna, then at Daring. “Are we sure they’re evil?”
“Yes.”
“Completely? She looks the part, but Princess Luna has always seemed rather… I don’t know. Childish? Maybe this is just a game to her.” A blink, and Song looked at the Princess. “No offense.”
“None taken, Sugar Song.” Luna spoke slowly, savoring every word. “I take pride in my playfulness. An excessive emphasis on the serious side of my character is what brought my downfall on the first place.”
And here, she smiled, in a way that could have been wise and understanding, were it not for the fangs.
Pause. Daring Do glared at Luna and made a beckoning gesture.
“…That, and the raging urge to murder ponykind that swept over me,” Luna conceded with a nod. “I assumed that was a given.”
“Just wanted to make sure, Princess.” Daring turned her back to her. “Song, can you use your magic?”
“No.” This was the truth. There’d been a magic suppressor at the entrance to the dungeons—one of those doors that blocked your horns as you passed. “Not until we get out of here, at least.”
“I see.” Daring buried her muzzle in her saddlebags, and then she took out—
“…My rapier,” Sugar Song said, frowning slightly. “You brought my rapier?”
“Yes,” Daring said through gritted teeth. She was holding the sword’s handle with her mouth. “Thought you’d need it. Take it and hold it against Luna’s neck. She might try to escape.”
Luna was looking at the sword with inquisitive eyes. “Daring Do?” she asked.
“Yes?”
“Were you carrying that sword the whole time?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Saddlebag.”
“That sword is over a meter long.”
“Really good saddlebag. Worth every bit.” Daring looked back at Song. “Song,” she urged. “She’s an alicorn. No matter how much I tie her up—”
“And you tied her up pretty hard,” Song mused.
“—she’s dangerous. The more careful we are, the safer we’ll be. So take the rapier. You’re better than me with it anyway.”
Song frowned, and her ears went flat against her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “I mean, I know she’s an alicorn, but are you sure you aren’t just overreacting?”
Daring Do arched an eyebrow, but it was Luna who answered. “I have no magic left,” she said. “Well, a little. Just enough to walk, speak a little. It is impossible for me to fly this way. I am borderline defenseless.”
“Oh.” Song blinked. “Well, Yearling, see? She can’t really—”
“So it would take me a full three seconds, I would bet,” Luna added.
Pause.
Song smiled sweetly. “Beg your pardon?”
“Roughly, of course. I’ve seen you both in action, Sugar Song, and I know you’re capable enough in a fight.” Luna bowed at them, a sign of respect. Or maybe she was just checking out her own hooves. Even if that was the case, she did in a respectful way, at least. “But I believe, still, that I could crush you like a hazelnut if the need ever arose.”
Daring Do looked at Sugar Song. Song didn’t look at her; she was too busy staring at Luna, sweet smile still showing.
Luna seemed to notice the silence, and then she gave them the kind of look really big dogs give after being caught doing something naughty. It wasn’t as much apologetic as charismatic, in a ‘your throat is still in one piece just because I want it to be’ sort of way.
“But,” she said, “no offense.”
And Daring and Song just looked at her.
“Yearling?”
“Song?”
“Give me that sword.”
“Atta girl.” Daring Do threw the rapier in the air, where it twirled twice—and Song gave her head a jerk and grabbed it expertly by the grip, eyes never truly leaving Luna.
Then, Song pointed the sword straight at the Princess’ neck. “So what’s the plan?”
“We get out of here. Get your magic back.” Daring Do’s eyes sparkled, and she showed her teeth. “Then, we find Queen Tyrant Celestia… and we make her pay.”
They didn’t find Queen Tyrant Celestia.
“We also did not make her pay, I must add,” Luna said after three hours of walking. “I do not know if you are aware, Daring Do.”
Daring Do didn’t reply as much as she grunted in Luna’s general direction.
“I will take that as a show of gratitude for my input,” Luna said. “And I am glad to see I was of service.” A little bit of spring—like the first week of March—made it to her step. “This is nice.”
Neither Daring nor Song replied, because they weren’t in the mood.
“I am such a good prisoner,” Luna continued.
The Dark Castle was a nightmare.
Thing is, Daring Do was good with mazes—she’d had a lot of practice with them during Ahuizotl’s labyrinthian phase—but that’s because mazes had a structure. Even the best-designed maze has a pattern, because a maze is nothing but a riddle made into a building, and unless you’re a hack writer, every riddle has a solution.
So Daring Do would look for the patterns, the little details, the way the maze worked. She would understand the maze, find the solution, dart out, and usually punch Ahuizotl right in his weird long face.
The Dark Castle, by the formal definition of the word, wasn’t a maze. It was just a mess.
Nothing made any sense whatsoever, and it was painfully clear that this wasn’t due to the Tyrant trying to confound and intimidate her enemies, and was more the work of somepony who had no idea how buildings were supposed to work.
Most corridors only turned left, even when the Castle quite clearly wanted them to go right. There were way too many doors in way too little places. Every curtain was drawn, never mind that most of the time they weren’t put in front of the windows at all. Now and then, an incredibly sturdy wall of perfectly transparent glass would stand in the middle of a room, always placed in such a way that Sugar Song would slam her face against it.
Every room and corridor tried to be more dark and gloomy than the previous—all skeletons and dark purple flames and chains and spikes. And this only added to the confusion, because everything was so over designed and individual it all looked exactly the same. Extremes often touch each other; reality is shaped like a horseshoe that way.
TONK.
“Argh!” Song didn’t drop her sword—it was still diligently pointed towards Luna’s neck at all times, although now it was held by magic alone—but she had to stop and rub her muzzle. “Oh, cookie dough,” she muttered, little tears forming in her eyes. “This is the fourth time that happened!”
They were in another corridor, now—black, purple, shades of red by their right; big news—and Daring was positively trembling with a mixture of excitement and absolute boredom. “You okay, Song?” she asked.
“My muzzle hurts.” And Song punched the wall of glass. “Ouch. And my hoof.”
“I recommend that you do not hit the crystal walls,” Luna said, leaning towards Song and ignoring the sword with the nerve of somepony who has outright forgotten there’s a scrap of metal threatening your life at all times. “That would help with the hurting.”
Song squinted at Luna. “Thanks, Your Highness.”
“I am here to help.”
“Well, then you’re not helping hard enough,” Daring said, turning wholly towards Luna, brow furrowed. “Princess, we need to find your sister. I understand that you don’t want to betray her, but she has to answer for what she did.”
“And I understand that.”
“Then tell us where she is!” Daring said, stomping a hoof on the ground. “We’ve been trekking around this stupid place for hours—just bring us to the Tyrant!”
Luna closed her eyes, and shook her head. “I cannot do that.”
Song made a face. “We can make you talk,” she said, getting the sword even closer to Luna’s neck. Then, she gave this a little bit of thought. “I mean. Probably. If you’re nice about it. Please?”
Luna chuckled, and looked at Song. “Oh, Sugar Song,” she said. “I cannot say no to such a polite request, least of all when it comes from you. We did save Hearth’s Warming together, after all.”
“You’re awfully fond of that adventure,” Daring Do said.
“It had always been a dream of mine to be the hero in a seasonal tale. Makes for a welcome change.” Luna scratched her muzzle, seemingly lost in thought. “I assume it helped that I did not try to devour any children?”
Daring Do nodded. “That’d do the trick, yes.”
“Interesting. I shall remember that advice.”
“Boy.” Sugar looked up and down at Luna. “The more I think about it, the more surprised I am at just how strongly I believed in your redemption, Your Highness.”
“I have that effect on people.” Luna nodded. “I am charismatic.”
And it was at that exact moment that someone tried to kill her.
In what was steadily starting to become a somewhat characteristic move on Princess Luna’s part, she did not flinch, or even try to dodge, when a sharp, pointy piece of metal approached her neck at sound-breaking speed.
But she was perfectly aware of it happening—and in fact, it was Luna’s eyes that Daring Do noticed; Luna’s eyes, suddenly darting to the left, and Daring Do felt more than saw the sudden blur that came from the corner, she felt more than heard the sound of sharp metal piercing through the air and—
CLANG!
Song swatted the thing out of the air like a fly, and the projectile fell to the floor in a rather anticlimactic way. “Nope,” she said, her tone bored as she adjusted her little red glasses. “Not on my watch.”
Daring Do was out like a shot before Song could even finish talking, flying towards the corner in a split moment—but there was nobody there.
“You two have incredible reflexes,” Princess Luna mused, looking at Song’s sword (which was, once again, pointed at her neck). “I must congratulate you.”
“Comes with the job,” Daring said, not really paying attention. The corridor was cast in shadows, of course it was, and the thing had come from the corn— “Actually,” and here Daring Do stopped looking for clues and looked back to Song and Luna, “what was that they threw? A dagger?”
Song used her magic to prod the thing from the ground, then inspected it. “More like a scrap of metal, actually,” she said. “Aerodynamic. Made to be thrown.”
“So like a dagger.”
“Cheap knockoff, yeah.”
Daring arched an eyebrow. “Would it have killed Princess Luna if you hadn’t swatted it out?”
Song looked at the piece of metal, and then, without saying a word, she flicked her horn to the right and shot the thing against the wall in front of her. The stone wall in front of her.
With a thud! the piece of metal got stuck. More than half of it was inside the wall now. The wall that was made, and this cannot be emphasized enough, exclusively out of stone.
So Song looked at this, and went, “Yeah. Yeah, this would—this would have probably killed her. Your Highness?”
“I believe it would have decapitated me quite efficiently, yes.”
“Hmm.” And Daring went back to inspect the corner. “Not so cheap, then, Song.”
The corridor turned to the left—Daring Do hated this Castle. She hated this Castle so much—but thanks to the stupid location of the window and some lucky curtains, the point where the two walls connected was completely dark. A perfect hiding place… only Daring was sure nopony had been there when they’d passed this spot less than a minute ago.
“There must be some kind of passage, or secret door, or something,” Daring Do said after a couple minutes, finally coming back to where Song and Luna waited. “But I can’t find anything. The mechanism probably only opens from the inside.”
Song frowned. “A one-way only secret passage? That sounds pretty useless for navigation.”
“Handy for assassination, though,” Daring said. She took a look at Luna’s bindings—but they were still as tight as ever. “Which begs the question, Princess: what just happened?”
Luna seemed to put some actual thought in her response. She was, if anything, a diligent prisoner. “Well,” she said. “I believe I almost underwent a murder, Daring Do.”
“Sharp as usual, Princess.”
“Thank you!”
“The question here is why, this just happened, Your Highness,” Song said, readjusting her little red glasses once more. She didn’t need to do it, but she liked how the gesture made her look smarter. “And who threw the… Yearling, are we calling it a dagger?”
“We’re calling it a dagger.”
“…And who threw the dagger at you, Princess,” Song finished. “Do you have any idea?”
And Luna said, “I do not.”
And Daring said, “I do.”
Pause.
Song arched an eyebrow. “Well, usually this goes the other way around. Yearling?”
“It was the Tyrant,” Daring said. “Who else? She knew you’d stop the dagger. What I want to know is the why. I know she’s crazy, but there must be a reason for this.”
“What?” Song’s eyes got wide. “Yearling, you must be joking. There’s no way Princess Celestia—”
“Queen Tyrant Celestia,” Luna and Daring corrected at the same time.
“She is sensitive about the title,” Luna added.
“…Right. No way Queen Tyrant Celestia would endanger Princess Luna’s life.” A blink. “Wait, but you’re still just a Princess, Your Highness?”
“I always thought princesses were prettier than queens,” Luna admitted. “It is always the queens that play the role of a villain in fairytales, are they not? I believed it would be better for my image to avoid such connotations.”
“Uh.” Song frowned. “Your Highness, you are a villain. You talked about eating children like five minutes ago.”
“Why, yes. But I always found myself to be rather insecure of my identity, my dear Sugar Song.”
“But you do eat children, is what I’m getting at.”
“Sugar Song,” Daring Do said, voice cold like a loveless marriage. “Would you mind not chit-chatting with our prisoner, the current second-most-evil villain in all of Equestria, please?”
“Can’t a mare satisfy her curiosity now and then?”
“Can’t you do that after we topple their regime?”
“Hmmm.” Luna looked at them both, a pensive expression on her face. “Personally,” she said, “I do not mind her inquiries, Daring Do.” Pause. “If that is what concerns you.”
“…Yes. Yes, that’s what—you know what? You two just shoot the breeze over there, and I’ll be smart by myself over here.” Daring Do took a meaningful step to the side, and put a good two meters of distance between herself and the other two mares. “Good? Good. Now, I know Princess Celestia well. I know she would never endanger Princess Luna’s life for the sake of one of her plans. But Queen Tyrant Celestia? I can’t be so sure.”
“That’s a good point, admittedly,” Song said. “Princess Celestia wouldn’t have kidnapped me either, I suppose. Still, I find this hard to believe.” She looked at Luna. “Your Highness? What do you think?”
“Song, you’re doing it again. You’re asking the megalomaniac villain for her opinion.”
“I trust my sister with my life,” Luna said, sincerity in her voice. “I believe in her. I know she would never try to harm me, just as I would never raise a hoof against her.”
“See, and now the megalomaniac villain is giving you her opinion, and you’re actually listening.”
Song nodded. “I think the same, Your Highness. You might have gone askew, but you and Princess—”
“Queen Tyrant.”
“—You and your sister share a wonderful bond.” She looked at Daring. “Yearling, I think she’s right. I trust her word.”
“Oh, come on!”
“What?” Song frowned and crossed her legs defensively. “Why are you so on edge today? Yearling, I know that Luna is our enemy, I’m not stupid, but she’s making a good point, and you know it! Did Celestia’s betrayal hurt you that much?”
“This is not about Sister,” Luna whispered.
And something in her voice made Song forget about Daring Do for a second and turn to her. “What?”
“Daring Do is not hurt because my sister betrayed her trust,” Luna explained. “Or rather, she is… but that is not what troubles her. Tell me, Sugar Song: has Daring Do ever felt this angry before, when she is the one being kidnapped?”
Sugar thought about this. (“Oh my goodness, stop listening to her!”) “She hasn’t,” she said. “I mean, she only gets close to how she is now when I’m the one—”
“When you are the one being kidnapped,” Luna finished. “Because Daring Do values your life more than hers. And I believe that, had she been the one we took, you would be hot with fury instead of her.” And there was a twinkle of something like love in her eye. “My sister and I are not the only ones who share a wonderful bond, Sugar Song.”
“Oh. Wow.” Sugar Song took a step back, and raised a hoof. “Wow, wow, wow. Back up, Your Highness. We’re not that—”
“She’s just my assistant! You’re exaggerating!” Daring Do said, slightly louder than needed. “It’s just—well, a really good assistant, of course, best I’ve ever had, but it’s merely—”
“—I mean I just work for her, really, there’s nothing else here, only that well you know how the economy goes and—”
“—I’m not ‘hot with fury’ I’m merely, you know, trying to save the world, usual business, I mean I appreciate Sugar Song but we’re really—”
“—not sharing a wonderful bond of any sorts,” Sugar Song finished.
“—we’re just being professionals,” Daring Do added.
And Luna looked at them with something that might have been appreciation, or it might have been mockery, but was most probably just a perfect mixture between the two. “I wish I had spent more time with you two before I became a villain again,” she said. “You are great company, Sugar Song, Daring Do.”
Daring grimaced, and she finally started walking down the corridor again—they’d been standing in there for what felt like centuries. The others followed. “Well, Princess,” she said. “That’s something you should have thought of before actually turning back to evil, I’m afraid.”
“Why did you even do that, Your Highness?” Song asked, as they went back to the steady pace from before. They turned left when they met the end of the corridor. Daring Do cursed under her breath. Song ignored her. “You never actually explained it.”
“Where my sister goes, I follow,” Luna said. “There’s nothing else to it.”
“Okay, then why did Queen Tyrant Celestia go evil?”
“Oh.” Luna shook her head. “I do not know myself.”
“What?”
Even Daring Do turned around and looked at her at this. “…Seriously?” she asked.
And Luna nodded. “Indeed. Of course, there are many possible reasons—my sister shoulders a great responsibility, Daring Do. It is easy to crack under the pressure, especially when you do not feel recognized.” A grimace. “I know that better than most.”
“How on Equestria was Princess Celestia not appreciated?” Song wondered. “She was loved by everypony!”
“And yet, her enemies vastly outmatched her allies,” Luna said. She did not sound chipper or child-like, now. There was venom in her voice. “Political leeches. Ungrateful aides. Power-hungry nobles, ponies who believe there is no place for an immortal rule in a kingdom made by mortals. Outside forces, entire races lusting after Equestria’s splendor.” She closed her eyes. “And my sister always turned the other cheek. I do not blame her, if she chose to put an end to all of it on her own hooves.”
Song remained silent for almost fifteen seconds, trying to take it all in. “Wow,” she finally said. “I never knew about this. I mean, it doesn’t excuse evil, but I suppose…”
“You never knew about this,” Daring interrupted, “because chances are, it wasn’t that bad. Princess Celestia was beloved, respected. Nopony would ever raise a hoof against her.”
“Would they not?” Luna asked, eyebrow perfectly arched. “Would they not, Daring Do? That flying dagger was not the first attempt against my life, and it won’t be the last—and my sister has more experience than me when it comes to these situations. She has been poisoned enough times to learn to boil her own tea herself.”
Silence. Neither Daring nor Song felt like saying anything. Luna’s words had been heavy enough to shut their mouths.
“…Which is, I must add, a shame,” Luna said. “As she has the most horrible taste. Seriously, chamomile tea.”
Daring made a face despite herself. “Eugh. Really?”
“I am afraid such is the case, yes.”
“That’s disgusting. Stuff tastes like lava.”
“…So,” Song said, slightly annoyed. “Just because she—”
“Song.” Daring Do glared at her. “I know it’s your favorite, but you have to admit that chamomile tea is—”
“I wasn’t talking about that,” Song said. Pause. “Well. A little. Just—her enemies turned Queen Tyrant Celestia into what she is?”
“Oh, hey, you remembered the title this time.”
“Yeah, I’m trying to make an effort.”
“I believe that is the most rational explanation, yes,” Luna said, nodding gravely. Then, she shrugged, this time far less gravely. “Or it could just be the sewers, really. There is simply no way to know.”
You simply cannot be a bona fide explorer—the kind that wears that weird hat, the kind that carries a whip around and makes it look imposing instead of ridiculous—without being used to surprises. Daring Do could see an entire cave turn into jelly beans, and she would take less than a second to react, because she was simply not one to be dumbfounded.
But then again, there were magical jellybeans, and then there were sewers being the root of all evil. For the first time in what felt like at least twelve years, Sugar Song saw Daring do a double take.
“The se—what?” Daring Do shook her head. “What? The sewers?”
And Luna’s mouth became a thin hard line. “The sewers,” she said—and again, venom in her voice, although a little less than earlier. “The changeling invasion destroyed the sewers under Canterlot, and we still have not fixed them. Half the tunnels are blocked nowadays, using magic is dangerous when the tunnels are so full of crystals, and the smell is just terrible. There is a lot of paperwork when it comes to the sewers, every day.”
The corridor turned left—cue Daring cursing loudly—and it led them to a door, which led them to a gigantic room. They went in.
Song looked at Luna. “…And that justifies turning evil?”
“Any measure is justified, no matter how drastic it is, if it frees us from the shackles of bureaucracy,” Luna said.
“I feel like you’re somewhat projecting when you say that, Your Highness.”
“I might accept that my moral code is a thousand years outdated, Sugar Song, and I will make an effort to learn your new ways, but in some places I draw the line.”
“Well, if we ever find her, we can ask the Queen Tyrant herself what made her start oppressing her subjects like she does, I suppose,” Daring said, glaring at Luna. “You still refuse to tell us where she is, Princess?”
Luna thought about this, then looked at Daring Do. “I believe I can actually tell you now, Daring Do.”
“What?!”
“Yes.” Luna pointed. “She is right behind you.”
They all turned around.
In the middle of the room stood Queen Tyrant Celestia.
She looked tall and royal. There was little light around them, but the dark jewels around her neck glistened like cockroaches—in a good way, if such a thing is possible—and the red-blood crown on top of her head was, in all honestly, quite tacky.
But she still pulled it off.
She looked that royal, really.
Daring Do and the Queen Tyrant locked eyes, almost involuntarily; such is the magnetism heroes and villains effect on each other. A final confrontation, if done well, will make any compass worth its salt go completely crazy.
“Tyrant,” Daring Do spat. Behind her, Sugar Song tensed, and redoubled her concentration on the rapier. Daring saw this, and acknowledged it by making no gesture or comment whatsoever—Song would get it. “Finally.”
“Daring Do,” Celestia said, voice levelled. “I see you’ve captured my sister.”
“So I have.” Daring Do let out a terrible smirk, and for a second, she was the one who looked like a villain. “And now that the night is off the board, it is time to take the Queen.”
“Oh, my dear Daring Do.” And Celestia chuckled sweetly. “I’m afraid that is not my cup of tea.”
Pause.
“Wait. Wait, that didn’t—”
“Goodness gracious Sister just call her a pawn.”
“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Luna, it’s just—” Celestia sighed. “I am not good at this.”
“I cannot believe this.”
Song arched an eyebrow. “I get the feeling there’s a story behind this.”
“There is,” Daring said, and then she tensed. “But this is no time for tales.”
And then she jumped.
With Sugar Song holding the sword—and, some would argue, the spotlight—not enough emphasis has been made on Daring Do’s speed. This is a mistake that many villains have made in the past, and that’s pretty much the main reason why Equestria still exists.
Daring Do could move faster than a cobra strikes. Daring Do looked younger than she actually was, not because of genetics, but because of relativity. She had famously raced a laser, once, and while nopony had been there to witness the result—Daring Do was still here, and the laser was not.
So it is not a small thing when it’s explained, here, that Daring Do moved as fast as she could, jumped as fast as she could, towards Celestia.
It wasn’t even a blur, because you can see a blur. It was like lightning – now it’s here, now it’s gone.
Celestia, alicorn as she was, powerful as she was, never had the time to dodge.
Not like she needed to.
TONK!
“ARGH. MY MUZZLE.”
“A-hah! See? See? I told you!” Song stomped a hoof on the floor and pointed angrily at the space between them and Celestia. “Those stupid glass walls—I hate them so much!”
“I THINK I’VE BROKEN SOMETHING.”
Song stopped looking at the glass, and turned towards Daring. “Gosh,” she said. “Are you okay?”
“I’M IN AGONY.”
“Yeah, but are you okay?”
“I do not wish to fight, Daring Do,” Celestia said, ignoring the fact that Daring Do was currently squirming on the ground, trying to remember what being not in pain was like. “I only came here to talk.” Then, she nodded at Sugar Song. “I see you rescued your assistant, in spite of my words.”
“I HATE YOU.”
“And I understand that,” Celestia said. “Such is, I believe, the fate of heroes and villains like us. To hate each other, no matter what.”
“I think this is more about the whole invisible wall trick you just pulled on her, Your Majesty,” Song mused.
“Oh.” Celestia blinked. “Is it?”
“IT IS.”
“Well, never mind my words then.” Celestia shook her head. “As I said, I came here to talk… and to check on Luna. I’m afraid I must leave soon—important business awaits me, and the minotaurs are not patient.”
Luna shot Celesta a half-smile. “I am sorry, Sister. I could not avoid being captured. Daring Do is a resourceful mare.”
And Celestia nodded. “I know. And I am sorry, but—um.” She blinked. “Luna?”
“Yes, Sister?”
“Why are you tied up like that?”
“I am a prisoner!” Luna explained, smiling perhaps a little bit too enthusiastically. “So Daring Do tied me up with her whip!” She turned around slightly, to show her full profile to Celestia, and then the smile wavered slightly. “It… looks bad, I take?”
“What?” Celestia pressed a hoof against her chest. “Oh. Oh, no, I—I mean, I wouldn’t say it looks… bad, Luna. While I do not consider myself an expert on… the subject at hand, you are a beautiful mare.”
Luna’s smile went back to normal. “Thank you!”
“However, I am your sister, and as such I find it highly uncomfortable to discuss such details.” Celestia frowned. “And I would appreciate it if you kept this kind of activity to a more, hm, private environment, Daring Do.”
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME.”
“Yearling,” Song said, looking sternly at Daring, “if even the Queen Tyrant agrees that this looks questionable, maybe the one at fault here is you. Just saying.”
“Never mind your attire, Luna. I know you suffered an attack recently.” Celestia looked at her sister with longing. “For them to attack you directly, in the open, like that… They’re growing bolder, abandoning subterfuge. Whoever they are. I hope that you are unharmed?”
Luna nodded. “I am.”
And Celestia let out a sigh, and her shoulders relaxed. “Oh,” she said, “thank the stars. I—I am sorry, Luna. I cannot rescue you yet.” She swallowed. “But I will.”
“Of that I have no doubts, Sister.”
“Do not tell them where I am.”
“I will not.”
Celestia nodded, and looked at Song. “Sugar Song,” she said—Daring was still screaming on the floor, but they all wordlessly chose to ignore her for the time being— “I do not blame you for capturing my sister, especially after we kidnapped you. And I apologize for that; I did not wish to do such a thing, but I saw myself with no other option. However, I hope you understand…”
Song raised a hoof, and Celestia stopped. “You will try to take back Luna,” Song said.
“Yes.”
“And I hope you understand, Your Majesty,” Song said, “that we will take you down.”
Celestia smiled at this. Her eyes were laughing. “You will try,” she said.
And she left, walking slowly. And she never looked back.
Song and Luna looked at her till she was gone, and then Song sighed, and looked down at Daring. “Yearling,” she said. “Are you done?”
Daring Do woke up, still rubbing her muzzle. The corners of her eyes were wet, and she was a little red, but her face was determined once again. “Yeah,” she said. “I am. You called her ‘Majesty’?”
“She’s a queen now,” Song replied, shrugging. “Do you think we can dismiss her throwing the dagger at Luna? She sounded honest.”
“They always sound honest, Song,” Daring replied. Her voice was grim like the reaper itself. “That’s why they’re dangerous. Did you hear what she said?”
“Minotaurs.” Song looked around. “In a maze. Fitting.”
“This isn’t a maze, but I get you. Remind me to work that reference in somewhere when I write the book, it’ll make me sound smarter.”
“You’re such an artist sometimes, Yearling. You put so much thought into your work.”
“Shut up, Song.” Daring looked at Luna, eyebrow arched. “You mentioned the minotaurs, too, way back in the Throne Room.”
Song blinked. “She did?”
“Yeah. Before I got to you.” Daring was still looking at Luna. “Princess, seeing how easily Celestia found us, I assume you and her can locate each other with ease?”
Luna nodded. “Indeed.”
“But you won’t tell us where she is.”
“My sister asked me, specifically, to not do that.” Luna looked at Daring with a look that was as sincere as it was defenseless. “I am afraid you know what my stance is.”
“Hmm.” Daring Do nodded to herself, rubbed her muzzle a little bit more. “But what if I asked you—and I only do this because I know you’re a great prisoner, mind you—to tell us where the minotaurs are?”
Song smiled at this, and elbowed Daring. “Loopholes, and emotional manipulation? Somepony’s getting serious.”
“Song, it stops being effective if you point it out.”
“No, no.” Luna shook her head, and both mares’ attention was suddenly on her. “It worked nonetheless. My sister did not forbid me to tell you this, and we villains are famously obsessed with loopholes.”
“Oh.” Song blinked, then looked at Daring. “Well. That’s a relief.”
Daring gave Song a strained smile. “It’s really not.”
“What? Why?”
“How much do you know about minotaurs, Song?”
A minotaur is, essentially, a bull with opposable thumbs. If this description alone is not enough to fill you with terror, then you have never met a bull.
“What is this?!” The room was positively gigantic, bigger than even the Throne Room (which was obscene enough as it was) and yet the Minotaur King made it feel crowded with his voice alone. “You’re not the Queen! We’re forced to wait for hours, and this is the sorry escort that welcomes us?!”
“I am a princess,” Luna pointed out.
“Bah! Bah!” The Minotaur King—of the Cowliphate, if you will—made a dismissive gesture with his huge hairy hands. “Princesses! Barely worth the time! Prettier than queens, but hardly ever adequate villains!”
And Luna made a gesture that, in another universe, in another dimension, would have been a fistpump. "Yesssss."
The Minotaur King was huge, and built like a brick house. His pectorals alone stood taller than Princess Luna’s head, and his entire body was covered in thick black fur that looked hard enough to block arrows. His nostrils were the size of apples. His horns were harder, larger, and sharper than that of even an alicorn.
And between them sat a twisted, vaguely crown-shaped chunk of metal.
Around him stood his escort. His wife, the Minotaur Queen, was wearing a smaller chunk of crown-shaped metal. Toddling around was the Royal Baby—an adorable little calf who already had enough muscle to bench-press an elephant—and finally, six Minotaur Guards that didn’t so much skip leg day as devour it for the protein.
Minotaurs are the reason the term “beast” has bad connotations, and there were nine of them in the room. This didn’t spell trouble as much as it wrote it in the sky with flaming letters.
“If you dare to make a ‘nine-o-taur’ pun, Yearling,” Song whispered, “I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”
“So. You’re asking me if I’m Daring enough.”
“I am going to set fire to your house.”
“I never liked minotaurs to begin with, and this one is famous for being boisterous.” Daring Do thoroughly ignored Song, and just squinted at the Minotaur King, whose eyes were two tiny red dots a blink away from total rage. “They say he’s a dangerous monster, and I believe it. He’s imposing. Has a dangerous minotaura.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“But are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Daring pointed. “Over there?”
Song rolled her eyes, then looked.
And her eyes got wide.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” Then Daring took a deep breath, and punched Song’s shoulder. “Wish me luck, Song.”
“You’ll need it.” But Song punched Daring’s shoulder back, and there was an astounding amount of love in that gesture. “Be careful, Yearling.”
Daring nodded, and then she raised her voice. “Minotaur King!” she said, and she walked towards the gigantic beast, head held high, no fear in her eyes. “We don’t come here in the Queen Tyrant’s name!”
“Bah!” The Minotaur King glared—he couldn’t look; he could only glare, really—at Daring, and showed off his teeth in a snarl that would have steam-boiled an iceberg, gigantic nostrils flaring. “Bah! I do not care, then! I will only listen to the Queen!”
Daring Do nodded. “Your lands, your minotareas, have never held friendly relationships with Equestria. I take the Queen Tyrant’s new politics have changed this?”
“Bah! New politics? Bah!” And he waved his huge hairy hands in a dismissive way. Such a dismissive way, in fact, that he almost sent his own kid flying; the Royal Baby had been aimlessly walking around the Minotaur King’s legs for a while. “She has done nothing but change her title! We will not abide by such a weak policy!”
“Aaaw.” By Song’s side, Luna pressed both hooves against her chest, eyes sparkling. “Look at that baby. It is adorable, is it not, Sugar Song?”
“What?” Song looked at her, then at the Royal Baby. It was cute, she guessed, if you were into triceps. “Uh. Maybe?”
“Who is a cute baby?” And Luna kneeled down and lifted up the Royal Baby then cradled it in her arms. The thing liked it: it tried to grab her mane, giggling with a voice that was deeper than the ocean. “You are a cute baby, if I say so, yes you are. Oh, I could just gobble you up, yes I could.”
Silence.
“…Your Highness.”
“It is merely a figure of speech, Sugar Song.”
“Yeah, it better be.”
“She calls herself the Queen Tyrant,” the Minotaur King was yelling at the moment, “but she does not oppress her subjects! She does not kill her enemies! She just changed her castle!”
Daring Do made a face. “She kidnapped my assistant, if that’s something to you.”
“Hah! HAH!” The Minotaur King slapped one knee. His gigantic nostrils flared again anyway. “That is not something to me! I do not care for your assistant, and to be honest I don’t even know who you are! Neither do I care!” He snarled once again. “The Queen failed to impress us! This means war!”
All the other minotaurs roared enthusiastically behind the King.
Daring Do just blinked. “Uh-huh.”
“You don’t seem to be impressed!”
“Nah, I’m really not.” Daring Do pointed at the Minotaur Queen. “However, that mini-tiara on your wife’s head reminded me of something, Minotaur King.” She buried her muzzle in her saddlebag, and produced the ‘dagger’ that had been thrown at Luna. “This was used,” she said, “to try to decapitate Princess Luna. Don’t you think it looks famil—”
“Bah! Bah! I do not care for daggers!” And the Minotaur King slapped the dagger away from Daring’s hoof.
It flew across the room.
BLAM!
And then it hit the wall on the other side.
Daring said nothing. She just stared at the dust on the other side of the room. The wall had been pretty much pulverized.
“Princess Luna’s strength has been lauded across my lands!” the Minotaur King was yelling now. “No weapon would pierce her! Do not lie to me!”
“Uh…” As in a daze, Daring Do went back to her saddlebag and took Tirek’s horn out. “Nnno, I’m not lying. I just used this horn to—”
“Bah! Bah! I do not care for horns!” And the Minotaur King slapped the horn away from Daring’s hoof.
It flew across the room.
BLAM!
And it hit the wall at the other side. Exactly on the same spot the dagger had hit, too.
Silence.
Then Luna took a step forward and presented the little calf to the Minotaur King. “Here, take this baby.”
“Bah! I do not care for babies!” And the Minotaur King slapped the—
“Nooooo nononono. No.” Sugar Song pushed Luna—and the Royal Baby—away from the Minotaur King. “No infanticide, not on my watch.”
“Aaaw.” Luna made a pout. “You are not fun, Sugar Song.”
“Bah!” the Minotaur King yelled. “It is said that Princess Luna is strong! Stronger than you!” Nostrils flaring; nothing new under the sun. “I do not smile upon lies! I do not smile upon anything!” And he glared. “And who are you, to talk with me, and what are you doing here?!”
“Oh, blast it. Might as well go all-in,” Daring muttered. “Minotaur King! My name is Daring Do!” And she stuck her chest out (trying not to think on how much her hoof hurt because of the slaps) and yelled. “I assume you’ve heard about me!”
This made the Minotaur King stop and stare, mouth wide-open. And, for a beautiful second, he stopped yelling.
Then the moment passed.
“Yes! Yes!” The Minotaur King stomped on the ground enthusiastically. “I do know your name! You are a hero! A world-famous one!”
“Indeed I am,” Daring Do said, nodding. “I came here to save Equestria, as you might have guessed already. We seem to have common interests, Minotaur King. Perhaps we could help each other. The Queen Tyrant…”
“Is a bigger threat than we thought!” the Minotaur King said.
“Yeah!” Daring grinned. “Exactly!”
“To be hunted by Daring Do! That is a sign of worthiness! If she had killed you, she might have earned my respect!”
“Yeah!” Daring grinned even harder. “Exac—what.”
“But she failed! She came out short!” The Minotaur King snarled again. Behind him, the guards and the Queen tensed. “We deal with heroes in my lands, Daring Do! We kill them! We’re worthy!”
Pause.
Song looked at Daring, squinting slightly. “Sorry, I think I don’t quite—was that a threat?”
Daring nodded. “It was.”
“Should we worry?”
“I mean…?”
And Luna looked at them both, and then looked at the Royal Baby. “I do think,” she said, “we are in trouble, baby.”
The Royal Baby blew a raspberry at Luna.
And, as on cue, the Minotaur King let out a bloodcurdling roar and charged at them, horns-first.
Force equals mass times acceleration. This means that if a really big, really strong musclehead with murderous intent charges at you, he will soon be unstoppable—but during the first few seconds, he’ll be a slow, dumb mass of murder made flesh. This meant that Daring Do, who was right in front of the Minotaur King, had more than enough time to dodge.
This also meant that Sugar Song, who was fairly behind them both, was pretty much screwed.
“SONG! NO!”
Too late for Daring to do anything, Song noticed what was happening with barely half a second to spare. More out of reflex than anything else, she pushed Luna to the side to keep her safe and sidestepped herself—
But the Minotaur King was expecting it. He stopped dead in his tracks—the floor creaked under the sudden pressure—and swung his head at her, horns glistening deadly…
Cling!
And Song parried them with her sword. “Ah-hah!” she yelled. “You won’t get me that easil—”
CLANG!
The rapier went flying.
Another pause.
Song’s voice sounded strangely calm. “Well, I’m dead.”
“SONG!” Daring darted towards them. “GET DOWN! GET DOWN!”
But there was no time. The Minotaur King swung his head again, horns aiming straight towards Song’s chest—
CLING!
And Luna stepped right in front of Song, quick as lightning, and blocked the Minotaur King with the only hard enough thing.
Not her own horn.
But the Royal Baby’s.
“I love children,” Luna mused, cheeky smile on her face. “They are so useful!”
“SONG! GET DOWN I SAID!”
“I—Yearling, did the Princess just parry the Minotaur King with a baby?”
“GET DOWN!”
Sugar Song threw herself to the ground.
And that’s when Daring Do made it there, and punched the Minotaur King in the face.
He toppled backwards, like an ancient tower going down under a hailstorm. The other minotaurs roared.
Daring Do grabbed the Royal Baby and threw it at them, horns-first, javelin style. Still down, the Minotaur King roared. Behind him, his escort stumbled and tripped on the flying calf.
Daring turned towards the door. “RUN!”
They ran.
The only good thing about being chased in deadly convoluted buildings is that it should be extremely easy to lose your persecutors.
Should.
“I hate this place!” Daring yelled as she flew by, wind roaring like thunder in her ears, yet not loud enough to drown the sound of nine minotaurs screaming bloody murder not far away from them. “I hate this place, I hate this place, I hate this place!”
“Why are they so good at following us?!” Song screamed. She was being carried by Daring Do, because there was no way she’d have been able to run this fast. “How are they still behind us?!”
“The Minotaur King has an amazing sense of smell,” Luna stated calmly, gracefully gliding right next to them. “He is probably following us by our scent, Sugar Song.”
“Oh, right. Yeah, he had huge nostrils, didn’t he?”
“I hate this place!” Daring Do shot a wild look at Luna. “And how are you flying?! Where’s my whip?!”
“I took it off.” Luna closed her eyes apologetically. “I did not think I could fly with it.”
“But I took your magic!”
Luna shrugged. “The Minotaur King broke Tirek’s horn. I got it back.”
Song readjusted her glasses. They were flying at top speed, so the gesture was needed, for once. “But you didn’t escape. And you saved my life, too.”
“Well, I am your prisoner.”
Behind them, the minotaurs roared again. They sounded closer. Daring gritted her teeth and tried to fly a little faster.
“Yearling.” Song’s voice was heavy. “I’m slowing you down. Maybe you should—”
“No. Shut up.” Daring gritted her teeth even harder. “Scent. Scent, scent, scent, they follow our scent, how do we get them out, how do we lose—Princess!”
Luna almost flinched. “Yes?”
“The sewers! You said the smell was horrible! Would it be enough to cover our scent?”
Luna thought about this. “…Yes,” she said. “Yes, I believe it would.”
“THEN GET US THERE RIGHT NOW!”
So Luna shot a burst of magic at the floor beneath them.
The effect was immediate. There was almost no sound—the floor didn’t explode; it merely turned to dust—but there was a blinding light, and for a moment they stopped in their tracks almost immediately. There was a sudden pull, as the air got sucked into the empty space that had been occupied by a ton of rock and stone.
And then there was the smell.
They didn’t waste time talking. The minotaurs were too close. They just jumped right in, and flew into the sewers. There was almost no light down there.
Stressful minutes followed.
They flew in random directions, trying their hardest to get lost. They turned right—Daring let out a wordless triumphant yell—a thousand times, went up, went down. Half the corridors were dead ends. The sewers were more a network of caves than anything: the walls felt naturally grown, full of crystals and little gems, and only the doors and passageways were carved.
But if anything, that only made the destruction more apparent. Entire sections were impossible to traverse, huge chunks of debris blocking the way, forcing them to go around or even go back. It felt like a bomb had gone off down there.
The minotaurs didn’t seem to have this problem—they merely powered through every single wall, creating a passageway if there was none.
But at last, finally, they lost them.
“They’re going the wrong way,” Daring said when they finally let themselves stop. They were panting slightly. “I heard them tear down a wall somewhere to the right—we’ve lost them. The smell did help us.”
Song swallowed, and frowned. “Yearling.”
“I know.” And Daring’s frown darkened. “Trust me, I’ve noticed.”
“What?” Princess Luna looked at them, confused. Then, she blinked. “Ah. Of course.” She closed her eyes, her horn flashed…
Song’s ears perked up. “Oh,” she said. “Oh!” And she grabbed her rapier, which Luna had just invoked in front of her. “Thank you, Your Highness!”
“You are welcome.” Another flash. “Daring Do, here is your whip.”
“Hey. Pretty sweet of you, Princess. Wasn’t expecting that.” Daring grabbed the whip, and eyed Luna. “…Want me to tie you up again?”
Song gave her a strange look, almost smug. “Oh, you’re asking for consent now. You’re such a wonderful lover.”
Daring glared. “Why did I rescue you, again?”
Luna looked at them both and let out a heartfelt chuckle—which soon turned into a small cough fit. Once it passed, she wrinkled her muzzle. “Ugh,” she said. “The smell got worse. I still remember my time, when sewers were not yet a thing—and I cannot help but think it was a better method.”
This caught Daring Do’s attention. “It got worse, you said? Princess, did the sewers always smell like this?”
“What?” Luna cocked her head to the side. “Of course they did. Was it not for this reason that we came down here in the first place?”
Daring Do said nothing. She just looked at Song.
Song nodded. “Your Highness,” she said. “We were not talking about my rapier before. What we noticed is… this is not the smell of sewage.” She pointed at the canal in front of them—the one that should have been carrying waste. “The sewers are completely dry.”
“What?”
“Indeed.” Daring Do’s eyes were fiery once more. “I think we might have found whoever threw that dagger at you, Princess. There’s more things happening in this place than we thought. Because, this?” And she took a deep breath. “This is the smell of gunpowder.”
The Castle had defeated Daring Do with its mindless nonsense, but the sewers had been built to make sense. If every labyrinth is a riddle, then she solved this one with haste.
The smell got stronger and stronger as they got closer to the center. “We’re approaching where the Throne Room is,” Daring mused. “Or at least where it was, in the old castle. I don’t know about this one.”
“We kept it in the same place,” Luna said. “Because it was, I believe, a hassle to do otherwise.”
Song shrugged. “Convenient. So, gunpowder under the throne?”
“And daggers thrown at the Princess,” Daring added. In the distance, they heard the minotaurs breaking another wall. They were closer than before—but they kept walking. “I think we’re dealing with a rebellion here, Song. And judging by the smell, there’s a lot of gunpowder around. This has been a long time in the making.”
“So this started before Celestia even became the Queen Tyrant?”
“My sister has many enemies,” Luna said. “I have told you so.”
“And they’ve grown more confident, because I don’t remember ponies throwing daggers at your neck before you turned evil, Princess,” Daring said. “I don’t like this.”
“So what are we going to do, Yearling?” Song poked her on the side. “Help the rebels or…? I mean, we are supposedly fighting Queen Tyrant Celestia.”
“I don’t know yet. I don’t like gunpowder.” Daring squinted. “I guess we’ll see when we get there.”
And they got there.
The sewers grew more spacious, all of a sudden—and in the perfectly carved wall there was a huge metal door, the first one they’d seen since they came down there. Faint sounds could be heard from the other side, and the smell of powder was almost unbearable, rotten eggs and stale sulfur.
Song and Daring Do looked at each other, and nodded.
They kicked the door down.
Now—rebellions are hardly a new concept. For as long as civilization has existed, there have been ponies who thought they could improve it; and usually, it’s the kind of improvement that involves beheading someone else. Every individual in this world is unique, but crowds think exactly the same, no matter the place, time, or culture.
Daring Do and Sugar Song had been there for most of them. They’d orchestrated the fall of Sleipnir the Eight-Legged, they’d prevented the Rise of the Colt Pixies, they had witnessed the death of the Thestral King.
And yet, of all the marvelous, horrifying rebellions they’d ever known, this one, this little gunpowder plot? This is the one that surprised them the most.
Because when they kicked the door open, what they saw inside that room weren’t ponies. What awaited them were…
“…Cows?” Daring asked, completely dumbfounded. “What?”
And behind her, Luna’s eyes widened. “Oooooh. Ooooooooooh!” And her mouth widened in a grin. “I knew it! I knew something like this would happen! Oh, I cannot wait to rub this in my sister’s face. This is what happens when you do politics.”
Cows, indeed. Almost thirty of them, brown, black, and white. Most were drinking from huge mugs of—gosh, Song hoped that wasn’t milk, because that would be weird. Every cow had a green bandanna wrapped around their forehead.
Sugar Song and Daring Do looked at the cows.
The cows looked at Daring Do and Sugar Song.
The room, cows aside, was full of rebellious paraphernalia. Defaced pictures of Princess Celestia, of the Tyrant Queen, of both Princesses Luna. A pirate flag. Maps of Canterlot full of red marks and crosses. A million barrels that stank of gunpowder.
Then Daring’s ears perked up. “Oh, hey. So that’s why the dagger reminded me of the Minotaur Queen's minitiara!”
Song looked at her. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Their cultures are really similar.” Daring made a broad gesture with her hoof. “So, same blacksmithing techniques. I mean, they’re pretty much the same species anyway.”
“Right.”
Then one of the cows yelled with a high-pitched voice. “It’s the Princess!” she said. “We’ve been found!”
And that’s when the stampede happened.
Force equals mass times acceleration. This means that if many slightly unathletic cows charge at you at the same time, they will soon be unstop—
“Nope,” Daring said.
PLAF!
And one uppercut later, the first cow of the bunch was sent flying, and that was pretty much it for the stampede. The rest of the cows took the much more sensible option of quietly shuffling backwards instead.
Luna closed the door behind them and cast a spell on it. “There,” she said. “Now they cannot escape from us. We are free to do as we please.”
“Kind of grim a thing to say, Your Highness.”
Daring waved her hoof to cool it off, and then looked at Song. “This is a little underwhelming, don’t you think?”
“After the minotaurs?” Song smiled. “A little, yeah. But still, Yearling… A cow rebellion? Never would’ve crossed my mind.”
“You!” The leader of the cows—easy to identify: she was wearing an eyepatch—made her way out of the crowd and pointed an accusatory hoof at the heroes (and Luna). “I know who you are!”
Daring arched an eyebrow. “Lost your chance to say ‘who you arrrrr’ there, buddy.”
“I am not your buddy! You’re Daring Do!” the cow continued. “A friend of the Queen Tyrant! An ally of the tyrannical empire that’s enslaved our people for millennia!” Then she turned around, hoof in the air. “DEATH TO THE CROWN!”
“DEATH TO THE CROWN!” the cows replied in one voice.
“Wonderful,” Daring said. Then she raised her voice. “I’m not an ally of the crown anymore! I swore loyalty to Princess Celestia, not the Queen Tyrant. What is this?”
“This!” the cow yelled, horrible smile on her face, “is our fight for freedom! This is the cows finally getting back what belongs to us! This is us breaking free of our shackles, defeating our oppressors! No longer will we be seen as second-class citizens!”
“Well, I suppose I can get behind that,” Daring Do said, frowning. “I don’t dig the pirate flag, but if this is about fighting the Queen Tyrant, we can maybe work togeth—”
“Our pony oppressors!” the cow continued. “Just like you! Just like everypony else!”
There is one rule in any fight. One rule that, no matter what, you must never break: do not underestimate your enemy. Even if they’re a bunch of obviously unprofessional cows, even if you can beat them up with three hooves tied to your back, never think you’ve won until you’ve won.
While the cow with the eyepatch was screaming, one of the cows in the background had emptied her mug of whatever, and filled it with powder from one of the barrels. She then raised it carefully, trying her best not to be noticed.
Luna, Song, and Daring noticed. They silently watched her, waiting for her move. Anticipating it.
Not like it ever mattered.
Because the Minotaur King chose that exact moment to break through the outer wall.
KRRRNCH!
“RRRAAAAAAAAARGH!” He pointed at Daring Do. “I’VE FOUND YOU!”
Daring flinched. One cow screamed.
And that’s when the stampede actually happened.
There are probably worse things than being trapped in a room with thirty panicky cows and pure unadulterated minotaur rage. Daring Do had some interesting things about being set on fire, for example.
But still, at that moment? Daring Do barbeque didn’t sound that bad.
The entire situation went out of control almost immediately—when the cows started running, and this time they were running for real, Daring and Luna were forced to just fly above them to avoid being ran over.
But Sugar Song had no wings, and as good a swordfighter she was, there are things you simply cannot parry.
“HEYYY-YAAAA—”
Clang.
“—AAAAAAW SHOOT—AAAAAAARGH!
Not for lack of trying, however.
“Sugar Song!” Daring had to stop herself from flying to the rescue—uncomfortable as it was, a stampede of cows wasn’t lethal, and there were bigger fish to catch. “Dang it—Princess, can you get to Song and…?”
“DARING DO!” the Minotaur King roared. “I WILL KILL YOU!”
“…On second thought, Princess, how ‘bout you stay here and help me instead.”
“IIIII HEEEEAAAARD THAAAAAAT!”
The Minotaur King didn’t wait for Daring Do’s witty reply—instead he just charged, as minotaurs often do, waking clouds of gunpowder with his furious stomping. “RRARGH!” He swatted at Daring Do. “RRRARGH!” Twice.
Daring Do dodged without issue, although the wind caused by the Minotaur King’s movements was enough to ruffle her feathers. “Hah!” she said. “Too slow!”
“Indeed.” Luna had dodged, too, and now her eyes shone white. Her horn started to glow. “Do not worry, Daring Do. Now that I have my magic…” sparks started to come off the tip “…this will be eas—”
BANG!
The cloud of gunpowder exploded.
Luna went flying and hit a wall with a plaf! smoking slightly.
At least, the Minotaur King also wobbled—but the explosion hadn’t hit him as hard as it had hit Luna, so he didn’t fall. He merely opened his arms wide, as if preparing for a hug, and then brought both palms together in a deadly clasp, crushing Daring between his palms.
Or trying. “Olé!” Daring dodged by moving forward, flew right in front of the King’s dumb angry face, and gave him a cocky grin. “Now, now, Minotaur King. I know I’m great, but don’t you think applause so soon is overdoing it a little?”
He headbutted her.
CRONCH!
“BWARGH!”
At least he hit her with his forehead, and not with his horns. Daring Do was sent flying, too—but unlike Luna, she didn’t hit a wall. She hit the ground.
The ground thirty cows were currently stampeding over.
Everything became too much of a mess to see where she was going. Nothing but an endless sea of hooves hitting her, screams in her ears, and red in her eyes. She could feel bruises forming already, and soon enough, she would feel her bones breaking under the pressure.
She tried to scream.
The sound was drowned by the stampede.
The Minotaur King kept rampaging around the room, to no avail. With the door locked, the cows were trying their hardest to run away from him, and that meant running in circles. Daring Do was soon dragged by the current, and the Minotaur King lost sight of her.
So he just started grabbing cows and throwing them aside. “DARING DO!” he yelled. “THIS IS NOT ENOUGH! I WILL GET YOU WITH MY OWN HANDS!”
And then, loud like the cock of a gun pressed against your forehead:
WH-TCHK!
The crack of a whip.
The Minotaur King heard it, and turned around, looking for the source—only to find that he couldn’t; the whip was rolled around his right horn, tugging, keeping him in place.
But the Minotaur King could not be tamed. He snarled, clenched his fists and he pulled with a strength out of this world…
…and dragged Daring Do out of the bovine avalanche with a pop! that sent some more cows flying. She had the whip between her teeth, and Sugar Song between her hooves.
The whiplash almost propelled them to the other side of the room—but Daring Do managed to stop in time, and then she just stood there, hovering, Sugar Song hugging her tightly, forelegs around her neck.
“See?” Daring whispered, eyes never leaving the Minotaur King. “Just as planned. You okay?”
Song’s eyes were wide. She was panting. “Y-yes. Yes, I, I’m—”
Daring nodded. “Good. I’m really, really sorry for this.”
“What are you talking abooooOOOOAAAAAA—?”
Daring Do grabbed Sugar Song with both hooves, spun around to gain momentum…
“—AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—”
And threw Sugar Song as hard as she possibly could, and then darted right after her.
Back by the door, the Minotaur King finally finished unwrapping his horn, and he threw the whip aside. He turned to Daring Do. “I AM GOING TO—”
“—AAAAAAAAARGH!”
PLOMF!
He got hit right in the face by a screaming Sugar Song travelling at terminal velocity, and then Daring Do came right after, and punched him in the stomach with the momentum of a particularly angry bullet.
The Minotaur King felt the air leave his lungs.
He fell.
Sugar Song rolled away from his face, too dizzy to even talk, and promptly fell to the ground, limbs sprawled in all directions. Daring Do managed to land much more gracefully, and she stepped on the Minotaur King’s chest, slightly harder than necessary.
“We can dance to this tune all day, King,” she said. “But I capoeira and you barely manage the Pony Pokey. So how about we talk.”
The Minotaur King glared at her. He looked like at any moment steam would come out of his nostrils. But he did not say a word, and he didn’t slap Daring Do aside.
“That’s more like it,” Daring said. “You and I have the same goal in mind, Minotaur King. You might not like heroes—but you consider the Queen Tyrant your enemy. We can work together. Even this rebellion, stupid as it is, can be useful. If we get rid of the gunpowder, if we make sure no innocents are harmed, I’m sure that…”
Daring Do’s words died in her mouth.
She hadn’t noticed with the thrill of the fight, but the room had gone completely silent. The cows weren’t screaming anymore—and they weren’t stampeding, either. They were merely standing with their backs against the furthest wall, looking at something behind them.
Heck, even the Minotaur King wasn’t looking at Daring Do. She was going to say something about this but then the voice came.
“Please, do not stop talking now, my dear Daring Do,” it said, and Daring’s pupils shrunk until they became two dots. “I believe I found your speech really interesting.”
The door had been opened.
The Queen Tyrant was there.
Slowly, Daring Do turned. She faced Celestia, and now that Daring was standing on top of the Minotaur King’s chest, she was as tall as her. “Queen Tyrant,” she said. “We finally—”
PLAF!
“ARGH!”
The Minotaur King slapped her away, and got up with surprising speed for someone this big. “Queen Tyrant,” he growled.
The Queen Tyrant shot him a lazy smile. “Minotaur King,” she said. “May I ask why your escort is trying their hardest to destroy my sewers?”
For somepony surrounded by people who wanted to kill her, Celestia certainly wasn’t stiff. Her shoulders and ears were perfectly relaxed, and she moved like she’d just spent an hour at the spa. In front of her, floating with yellow light, was a small cup of tea.
The Minotaur King squinted, in that way dumb people do. “Bah!” he said. “Bah! Because you’re weak! You call yourself a tyrant, but you do not oppress! Heroes roam your Castle, and you do nothing! You failed to impress me!”
Celestia nodded absent-mindedly, as she took a long sip from her cup and walked into the room. She meandered to one of her defaced pictures on the walls, and gave them an appreciative look. “I see,” she said. “A shame to hear that, Minotaur King. The Cowliphate and Equestria have never had friendly relations, but I hoped you and I would solve that.”
“Bah!” The Minotaur King punched his own chest. “Bah! We do not befriend the weak! We crush them!”
“I see.” She kept moving through the room, and whenever she got close to one of the cows, they would let out a yelp and move out of the way. Celestia paid them no mind. “I do not think of myself as a weak monarch, Minotaur King, but I must admit that I do not do shows of strength.”
Pause. A sly grin made its way to her face, and everybody saw it, even though she was facing a wall.
“One could say,” Celestia continued, “they are not my cup of tea.”
And she threw the teacup to the ground between her and the Minotaur King.
The effect was immediate—the teacup, made of the finest porcelain, exploded into a million pieces. It made most of the cows flinch, although neither the Minotaur King, Daring, or Sugar Song batted an eye. And then…
Ffsssshhhhhhhh—
Then they noticed that whatever had been inside that teacup was dissolving the floor wherever it touched it. Dissolving it faster than any acid Daring Do had ever seen.
And Celestia had been drinking that.
“Oh, please, do excuse me,” Celestia said, and everybody turned to her once more. She was looking at the hole in the ground with a neutral expression. “I did not know it would do that. I guess the poison in my tea was a little stronger than expected.” And she turned to the cow with an eyepatch, and smiled. “Yet not strong enough, I’m afraid.”
The cow’s eye went wide. “You… You knew?” she whispered.
“Of the conspiracy?” Celestia asked, cocking her head slightly to the side. “Of course. I have been acquainted with poison for many centuries, my dear cow. That was not the first attempt against my life. I am sure it will not be the last.” Then she turned. “Minotaur King, I must ask you for forgiveness once more. I have some business to attendto—my people are, ah, trying to take me down, it seems.”
The Minotaur King blinked. “Uh.”
“Of course, I am sure you’ll understand,” Celestia kept saying. “After all, you are a tyrant yourself. You know how revolutions start.” She looked at the cow. “They are merely, I assume, tired of being second-class citizens?”
The cow looked at Celestia. Then, at the Minotaur King. Then, at the rest of the cows.
Then she gulped. “Y-yes.”
Celestia nodded. “And you were expecting to blow up my castle, I assume. “
“Um.”
“A shame, then, that I found you. This is an impressive amount of powder. Perhaps now that your rebellion has been thwarted, the sewers will be safe to roam once more.”
The cow said nothing. The other cows also said nothing, but it was clear they were merely following their leader’s example.
So Celestia smiled. And, with an almost maternal air, she lowered her head to the eyepatched cow’s ear, and said, “This is the part when you run.”
And that was pretty much it for the cows, really.
There’s something inherently comical in seeing thirty terrorized cows all trying to squeeze through the same tiny doorway at the same time, but somehow, Daring couldn’t even manage a chuckle. She just laid there, watching, and she kept watching until the last screaming bovine was out of the room, the sound of her hoofsteps fading away through the sewers.
Something pressed against her side, then—Sugar Song, frowning slightly. “We let them run?” she asked.
“The sewers are a labyrinth,” Daring muttered back. “We’ll get them later.”
“I hope. They stepped on me a lot. It hurts.”
“Are you okay?”
“Also, you threw me at the Minotaur King like I was a brick.”
“Yeah, but are you okay?”
“With that said and done, Minotaur King,” Celestia said, and immediately everybody snapped back to attention. The room felt gigantic, now that it wasn’t crowded. “I suppose I still must address your last point. There are heroes in my castle.”
The Minotaur King looked at Daring Do. Daring Do squinted back at him, and mouthed the words “anytime you want, buddy.”
“However,” the Queen Tyrant went on, “you’ll notice that my sister betrayed me and joined them, and she is currently blown up in that corner.” She nodded towards the still-smoking Luna. “As for Daring Do and Sugar Song—I will admit, I did not think they were worth my time.”
Sugar Song tensed. Daring and Celestia locked eyes.
“But if you believe you can do anything to oppose me, Daring Do,” Celestia said, and she made a beckoning gesture and offered the sweetest of smiles, “you are more than welcome to try.”
Dramatic pause.
Daring Do had gone to Tartarus and back, just to rescue Sugar Song. She’d trekked the twisted version of Canterlot Castle, she’d faced alicorns and minotaurs alike. She’d been trampled by a stampede, used a baby as a javelin, used her best friend as a javelin.
She had done all those things, and more, for the sake of revenge. For the sake of taking down Queen Tyrant Celestia, who had betrayed her, who had hurt her so badly. She had done this for the sake of Equestria, but mostly, she had done it for herself.
Nothing, absolutely nothing, would stop her from standing to the Queen Tyrant, and taking her down.
But this was not the Queen Tyrant she was seeing.
Dark jewels or not, blood-red crown or not—she had seen that smile before.
This was Princess Celestia.
So Daring Do hung her head down, and spoke with defeat, because she felt defeated. “No,” she said. Sugar Song looked at her with surprise, but she went on. “I can’t do anything. I surrender. You win.”
Celestia nodded.
And the Minotaur King started to laugh.
“Hah!” he said, slapping his knee. “Hah! Hah-hah! Hah!”
“Ugh.” From the corner, the smoky figure of Princess Luna arose. Her fur was darkened with ashes, but she looked mostly okay. “My head. What is happening?” she looked at the Minotaur King. “Are we laughing? I can laugh. Hah!”
“Hah-hah!” The Minotaur King slapped his knee once more.
“Wah, hah, hah!” Luna replied. “What is happening? Did I explode?”
“Yes, Princess,” Song said, still looking at Daring. “You—you can’t use magic when surrounded by gunpowder. It explodes.”
“I see. I did not know that. I am afraid gunpowder is a recent invention,” Luna said. “Hah!”
“Hah! Hah!” said the Minotaur King.
“Wah, hah, hah! I am in agony. I am in dire need of medical attention.”
“Song,” Daring said, elbowing her friend and nodding towards Luna, “go with her.”
“What?”
“To the hospital, or something. There are doctors in Canterlot, she’ll probably know where to look.” Daring shrugged. “She can probably blow a hole in the ceiling and fly you away.”
“But Daring, the Queen Tyrant—”
“I’ll explain later. Don’t worry, we’re safe.” She looked at Song in the eyes, and repeated: “We’re safe. Princess Luna is not a villain anyway, and she’s hurt.”
Sugar Song frowned, but she got up anyway. “Your Highness,” she said. “Let’s go. I’ll bring you to the hospital myself. I’m sure they give wonderful treatment to their oppressors.”
“Wah, hah, hah!”
“And you can stop laughing, now.”
"What happened, while I was unconscious?"
“I have no idea.” Song looked at the Minotaur King. “I think we… lost?”
“My dear Sugar Song,” Celestia said. “You did. Thank you for your understanding.” And then her horn flashed. “Take this.”
Song flinched, but grabbed the document Celestia had appeared anyway. She took a mere glance at it, and then her ears perked up. “Is this a map? Of the sewers?”
“Yes.”
“But I thought they were too old? That all the maps had been lost?”
Celestia smiled again. “They are,” she said. “And they were. But I am older. As you can see, there’s only one exit, which goes through the other side of the mountain. If Luna is not too badly hurt, perhaps you could…?”
Song blinked in understanding, but sudden doubt swept over her face. She looked at Daring Do… and Daring Do nodded. So Song rolled up the map and kept it. “Will do, Your Majesty. See you later, Yearling. You’ll have some explaining to do.”
“Sure.”
Song nodded. “Come on, Your Highness. We’ve got stuff to do.”
“Wah, hah, hah!”
“I said you can stop laughing now.”
Daring Do, Celestia, and the Minotaur King were left alone in that big sewer room full of gunpowder and rebellious items, and the King was still laughing. Eventually, however, he managed to catch his breath—and he immediately passed an arm around Celestia’s shoulders.
“You are not weak!” he said, goofy stupid grin on his face. He somehow managed to make it look menacing anyway. “You are a true tyrant! You even defeated Daring Do!”
Celestia smiled at him. “So it seems, my dear Minotaur King.”
“We can be friends now, yes! Yes!” He laughed again. “I was wrong! You are not weak!”
“You should probably go fetch your escort, King,” Celestia said, subtly pushing him towards the door. “They don’t know of your change of heart yet, and I’m afraid they are destroying my sewers still. I would love it if they stopped before hurting some of my subjects.”
“Yes! Yes!” the Minotaur King couldn’t squeeze through the tiny doorway, so he just blasted through the wall with minimum effort. “I believe you and I can be friends, now! Two tyrants, yes! Yes! Hah-hah-hah!”
He left.
Daring and Celestia, now, completely alone. None said a word for what felt like hours.
And then Daring sighed, and got up. “Let me guess,” she said. “The minotaurs just happened to destroy the sewers in a way that fixes them completely.”
“I believe,” Princess Celestia said, “that minotaurs are smarter than they look. They must have not destroyed any critical part of the cave system, or else everything would have crumbled down by now. They probably kept themselves to destroying anything that blocked the main path.”
“Wonderful.”
Celestia chuckled. “I assume, then, that you have seen through my schemes? What gave it away?”
Daring rolled her eyes, and walked out of the room. Celestia followed. “The teacup, I suppose,” Daring said after a while. “Or the entire speech, rather. Too perfect. Too planned. You’re not a dramatic pony—this was rehearsed.”
Celestia nodded. “Guilty as charged.”
“Also, you kept messing up your lines. Talking about teacups, and whatnot.”
“I like that line.”
“It shows.” Daring Do sighed. “Why?”
Celestia said nothing, for a moment or two. She just looked at the ceiling, seemingly lost in thought.
Then she talked. “I like chamomile tea,” she said.
Daring arched an eyebrow.
“I have been poisoned many times, Daring Do. I know a fair bit about poison. I also know how chamomile tea tastes—and lately, I found out that my personal selection tasted wrong.” She shrugged. “Not too much; just a little. They overdid the dose, they grew impatient. Luna pointed out the flavor, and I merely put two and two together. Somepony was trying to kill me. Again.”
“Hmm.”
“The minotaurs were growing belligerent, too,” Celestia continued. “We’ve never gotten along, Equestria and the Cowliphate, and I was afraid war was imminent. Minotaurs are interesting beasts. They only respect one thing, and that is individual strength. A strong leader does not listen to her people. Strong leaders kill heroes and create empires.” Celestia shook her head. “As a Princess, I could do nothing. As a Queen Tyrant? Perhaps I could stop a war.”
Daring Do said nothing. She kept walking.
Celestia looked at her, and then looked around. They were getting close to the hole Luna had created, not so long ago. Close to the exit.
“…And of course, the sewers were a mess,” she added.
“So you become a bad guy all of a sudden,” Daring Do said, “and the Minotaur King accepts your invitation to come to Equestria and maybe palaver with you for once. You kidnap Sugar Song, and in doing so make sure that I am here, and that I’m angry. The Minotaur King sees this, approves of it, and then chases me to the sewers. And in the meantime, he cleans them.”
“Being named the Queen Tyrant also made the assassins feel validated,” Celestia said. “I’ve seen many conspiracies in my lifetime, Daring Do. They all think they’re doing it for the greater good. If you show them they’re on the right path, they grow confident. They grow impatient.” A smile. “They move from poison to gunpowder… and they make themselves easier to find.”
“And I take care of that too, of course.”
“You are a brilliant pony, Daring Do. With the rebels being this active, I knew you would notice them. And locate them.”
Daring frowned. “And you let them go?”
“Did I?” Celestia asked, arching an eyebrow. “I think they’re being taken care of, my dear Daring Do.”
Song and Luna stood right next to the sewers’ exit, listening to the sound of thirty cows getting closer by the second. Song had her rapier again. “So your head still hurts, Your Highness?” she was asking.
“Indeed. I do not think I can use magic, Sugar Song. Wah-hah—”
“Please, don’t.” The sound of the thirty cows got even louder. Song brandished her rapier, and tensed. “So, do you want to sit this one out, Your Highness?”
“Oh, of course not.” Luna smiled. She was still perfectly relaxed. “I do not need to.”
“No?”
“No. I admit there are thirty of them, and I am weakened, however. So this will take me around, say, five seconds.”
“Huh.” Song shrugged. “Well, if you say so.”
Thirty seconds later, the cows arrived.
Luna was proven right.
“An elegant solution,” Celestia was saying. They’d arrived at the hole, and they flew up—soon enough, they were back at the Castle. With the Princess leading, however, they were not going to get lost. “That I couldn’t hope to solve nearly half as quickly without resorting to drastic measures. I’m sorry, Daring Do. I did what I had to.”
“You went mad with power.”
Celestia smiled. “I apologize again. I needed you here, I needed you to fight against me. That’s why I kidnapped Sugar Song.” She shook her head. The corridor turned left. “We never hurt her—we kept her in magical stasis. Fed her twice a week. The strain on her body is much less than she thought.”
Daring nodded. “And your ruling as Queen Tyrant?”
“Oh, the Minotaur King was right about that. I barely did anything.” A chuckle. “I have a very special student, Daring Do, and I think she would have never let me do this if I had truly oppressed my subjects.”
“What about the cows?”
“Let’s call that a lucky coincidence.”
“Hm.”
Riddles are hard, up till you know the answer. Canterlot Castle was not a riddle, but Celestia still knew the way—and soon enough, they arrived at the Throne Room. It was still dark and broody, but Celestia wasted no time opening the curtains, getting some light in there.
And suddenly it felt much more like home, Daring mused.
When she talked, however, there was no whim in her voice. “You didn’t tell me.”
Celestia was busy with the throne at the moment—trying to decide if she was going to keep the obsidian, probably—but she turned around almost instantly. “Beg your pardon?”
“Your scheme. You wanted me to come here and impress the Minotaur King, and find out about the rebellion, and all that.” She squinted. “But I could have done that easily without thinking that you had betrayed me. You hurt me, Celestia.”
Celestia’s expression was grave. “I’m sorry.” And she sat on her obsidian throne. “But I had to.”
“Why?”
“Because I pick my own tea, Daring Do,” Celestia explained, and her voice was soft. “I have done so for centuries—but suddenly, there was poison in it. To be able to sneak past my security measures, they… They had to be close, whoever they were.”
“So you didn’t tell me.”
“I didn’t tell anypony,” Celestia said. “I became the Tyrant Queen. Because, to be able to poison my tea, they needed eyes and ears everywhere. I needed them to grow impatient, bold—and I couldn’t risk them knowing I was not a real tyrant… But then, it turned out, it was the milk that held the poison. I shouldn’t have worried, and the conspiracy was much smaller than I thought.” She smiled. “Let’s call this a little lesson of humility. I shouldn’t have done this. I’m sorry.”
Daring Do sighed. “Princess, I—” And then she stopped. A blink. “Wait a moment,” she said. “You didn’t tell anypony?”
“No.”
“Not even Princess Luna?”
“No.” Celestia cocked her head to the side. “Why?”
“Uh. I just.” Daring Do sat down on the floor, and rubbed the back of her neck. “…Huh. You know, maybe you should keep an eye on her, just in case.”
“Oh, I don’t need to. I know she would never betray me.”
“No, yeah, that’s true—but she has some really interesting ideas about children, you see.”
“I am sure I needn’t worry, my dear Daring Do.” And then Celestia’s horn flashed, and she went back to normal. Her crown turned golden once again. The black jewels disappeared. Her eyes became gentler.
And Daring Do grunted. “So that’s it?”
Celestia nodded. “That’s it. I’ll hold palaver with the Minotaur King. The rebel cows will be prosecuted in due time. The sewers are halfway fixed already, and it will be easy to finish them. I will continue to rule as a Queen Tyrant for a month, and then I will go back.” Her eyes sparkled. “And I hope that my little ponies will forgive this little scheme of mine.”
And that was it, really. That was the end of the adventure. Daring felt it—call it a gut feeling—and she relaxed, though she couldn’t help feeling a little bit bugged. It was like cheating. There had been no final battle, no great evil to take down.
But at least Celestia was still her friend. And, she noticed, she really liked that.
So perhaps it wasn’t all that bad. Just a bit annoying.
“Princess,” Daring Do said, taking off her hat and stretching her wings, already thinking on how she would explain this to Song. Should she mention Luna hadn’t been faking? Probably not. Those two liked each other a lot; better not to risk ruining their friendship. “This was needlessly complicated. Sometimes I cannot tell if you are an absolute genius, or an absolute idiot, and I say that from the bottom of my heart.”
And Celestia replied to this with a grin. “Oh, my dear Daring Do. I must say, there is really not that much of a difference between the two.” And there was a twinkle in her eye as she spoke. “Reality is shaped like a horseshoe, that way.”
