Midnight's Shadow: Succession Crisis

by Ponibius

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Violence, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Original Character, Mystery
Length: 91503

Midnight Sparkle is given a new assignment when the Count of Honeyfield dies without a heir. Her task of finding a heir is complicated as the estate’s residents plot for the late count’s estate—and more than the late count might be laid to rest

Midnight Sparkle's career has seen her though terrors nopony should have to endure: warlocks, hags, and worst of all, dirt. Her newest assignment promises to be no less challenging; when the Count of Honeyfield dies without a clear heir, Midnight is tasked by none other than Princess Celestia herself to oversee the transition of his estate to the count’s lawful heir. The question of why a magus of her talents and status would be given such a routine task quickly becomes moot; as the estate’s residents maneuver and plot for the late count’s estate, it’s clear that he might not be the only one laid to rest before it’s over.

Published 2017-09-11 20:10:05 UTC
Last updated 2017-11-27 21:13:59 UTC

Chapter 4

'Twas early morning when Émeraude and I finally returned to my quarters.

Only after further study of the corpse of Count High Stakes that I discovered exactly how he had died. From what my spells could discern, the late count had digested some sort of sedative in sufficient quantity to cause his already weakened heart to stop, and death followed soon after. Now the question was whether the poisoning had been deliberate or an accident. I considered it possible that somepony had merely given him too much medicine in an attempt to aid their ailing count’s sleep, but Émeraude confirmed that the local healer had been treating his illness, and that she had supreme confidence in her skills.

I could not help but think that Émeraude would not have brought this to mine attention if the count had not been intentionally poisoned. But my thoughts were becoming far too sluggish to determine what I should do next with what I had learned. The potion I had taken to revitalize my vigor waned, and left me far more tired as it drained away. I needed rest, and time to think with a fresh mind. Too much had happened since I had come to Honeyfield, and there was so much information to comb through and put into context. I had at least half a dozen suspects for what might have been a murder, and the monster which had apparently slain Shining Quest might yet be rampaging across the countryside and feasting on the entrails of the innocent right at that moment.

Could these events be related, or even mere coincidence? What I needed was more evidence—something that could be gathered from catching this murderous beast, talking with the Honeyfield healer, and interviewing the other residents of the castle and those that wished to be the next lord of the county. But that would have to wait until I had slept at least for a few hours.

I dragged myself into my quarters, tossing my cloak onto a chair as I labored to my bed. Émeraude cleared her throat, interrupting my journey. “Was there anything else you required before you retire?”

I rubbed mine eyes and suppressed a groan. “For now, I merely need some sleep. We can talk later tomorrow—today, technically. After I have slept.”

Émeraude inclined her head in a slight nod. “Very well Magus, though do try and think on mine offers ere next we meet. No doubt you have many questions still, and while I would be happy to tell you what I know...”

“I am aware.” I sighed and nodded. Émeraude seemed eager to reveal more of what she knew, but all that could be a mere front to draw me into a trap. Pretending to be helpful while really trying to trick a pony into a bad deal was exactly something one of the fair folk would do. A bargain was not to be entered into lightly with a fey, especially when she seemed to be eager to acquire something I would not readily part with. It was certainly not something to seriously consider when I felt dead on my hooves, so I opted to politely dismiss my host. “But for now I ask we part company. If you will be so kind…?”

“As you desire.” Émeraude turned to go, finally leaving me alone. Some part of me was sorry to see her depart, though that might merely have been due to her supernatural aura. Or mayhaps some part of me liked her company. I shook my head, trying to dispel such thoughts. I was not some daydreaming maiden, but a magus to be respected.

Though ‘twould be easier to command such respect were I not asleep on my hooves. I trotted to my bed and soon found myself lying under its cover.

It felt as though I had only lain my head on the pillow when somepony knocked upon the bedroom door. I groaned and pulled the covers over my head as the blasted sunrays stabbed at my tired eyes. “What is it?”

Stalwart’s voice came through the door. “Magus, we gather to hunt the monster. Are you ready?”

The events of the previous night returned to me in a flood, and I wished for naught more than to cover my head with a pillow and blot out the world for a few more hours. But neigh, I could not neglect my duties so.

“One moment.” I groaned once again and my tired limbs protested as I pushed myself out of bed, dragging myself to the door and cracking it open.

I must have looked as good as I felt, for Stalwart’s eyebrows raised slightly at the sight of me. “Are you well?”

“‘Twas a long night.” I worked to keep the irritation out of my words. “Give me some time and I will be ready.”

“Then I will see to it that the servants deliver you some breakfast while you do so,” Stalwart said. “Though I recommend against dallying. The others will be ready soon, and some of them are eager to begin the hunt.”

I took a long breath as I rubbed my throbbing brow. “Aye, of course. I will ready myself forthwith. Tell them that I will join them shortly.” What I wanted to do more than anything was to return to bed and sleep the morning away, I knew that was a luxury denied me if I wanted to be part of the hunt—and I did want to participate. Discovering what had slain Shining would unravel much of the mystery surrounding me. That, and I did not wish for the ponies around me to ruin mine opportunity to figure out what was going on. The competence of those around me was yet to be determined, and it would not do for me to sleep whilst some fantastic beast tore the ponies of Honeyfield to gory pieces, their blood spilling on the ground as they ran about screaming in pitiful terror as their predator sucked the marrow from the bones of the fallen. That would be a poor ending for all.

I excused myself from Stalwart and did what I could to make myself presentable. Between a few potions and spells, and a fine breakfast of an egg omelet and sliced potatoes, I at least felt like I could approach the trials of the day. Even if there was still a weary ache in my movements. Every fiber of my being hoped that this would be a short hunt, and that I would be able to quickly return to bed without worry of some monster smashing through my window and tearing my throat out. I wished for sleep, aye, but not the eternal rest of death.

By the time I reached the castle courtyard, there was already a considerable gathering. Between those intent on going with the hunt and those seeing them off, it looked as though almost the entirety of the castle's inhabitants were out and about. Sir Rumble was speaking with the merchant Coin Count and some of the servants of the castle while the knight’s bloodhounds ran about, barking in excitement as the hunt approached. Captain Freezy conferred with a squad of her fellow pegasi house guards, each armed and armored.

I began mine approach to the ground but was almost immediately set upon by the hounds. I scarcely had time to react before they were upon me, rubbing themselves against me and licking my face in unrequited love. This was wholly beneath my dignity, but I knew not how to fend off this pack without offending my hosts.

Rather than rush to mine aid, as was his duty as my bodyguard, Stalwart stood to one side with a faint smile gracing his lips, as if there was some perverse joke to be had in my suffering.

I heard a familiar chuckle behind me. “They adore you, Magus,” Émeraude said, stepping just short of the pack. She was irritatingly chipper for having been up just as late as myself. Damnable fae; while I felt half-dead in the morning, Émeraude looked as though she had gotten a full night’s rest.

“They do, at that.” Mine every muscles tensed as the dogs rubbed dirt onto me and licked my cheeks, undermining mine efforts to maintain my dignity.

“Do not think poorly of them,” Émeraude said. “They just wish to show their affection in their own way.” She whistled, and the dogs immediately dispersed to gather at her hooves. She leaned down and addressed them in a tone one would normally reserve for particularly young children. “Is that not right, my lovelies? You love the magus, neigh?! Oh aye! Oh aye indeed, you love the magus so dearly!”

“Your hounds seem well disciplined when you wish to bring them to heel,” I observed, vainly brushing some of the dirt off of me.

“It is something of a talent of mine.” She stroked the side of one of the hounds as it rubbed against her. “My sire adored his dogs, and he passed that love onto his children. Breeding them had been a family hobby ever since.” She glanced up at the battlements, and the ravens which had come to roost upon them. “But it seems that I am not the only one with an affinity for animals.”

Mine entourage from the Great Unkindness drew many a nervous glance from Émeraude’s own servants. I did not know why; the Great Unkindness was as well-mannered as any hunting hound, and only visited pain and slaughter upon ponies when I bid them to slay mine enemies in a black tide of feathers and talons and beaks.

“The Great Unkindness is most queerly fond of me,” I admitted. “They follow me wherever I go, and they do have their uses.” Ravens had always been drawn to me, but their affinity had only increased with time. Moreso than ever as I took lessons from Corva. “Also, they usually desire corn. Could some be delivered for them?”

Upon being recognized, the Great Unkindness started a great ruckus as they cawed, “Corn! Corn! Corn!”

Émeraude shrugged. “‘Tis better to spare a couple bags of feed than to have them ravage the countryside. I will see to it that the servants deal with the matter.”

“Will you not be joining us?”

Émeraude shook her head. “Not this time. I think my place is at my home this day.”

I was tempted to ask why, but I suspected I would only get an evasive answer on the topic. “If that is where you feel you need to be then so be it.” I glanced Rumble’s way and espied a pair of his servants struggling not to be dragged away by the score of bloodhounds on leashes. “Rumble intents on using the hounds to hunt down our quarry.” Admittedly, that would be quite useful if they could track the monster’s scent, despite some concerns that they might warn our quarry we were coming.

“They should be of some use to you.” Émeraude gave one hound a final pat on the flank ere dismissing it to her bidding. “They are trained for the hunt, and Rumble knows how to use them. He does love his hunts and this should show his talents.”

“That is good to hear.” I privately doubted Rumble’s reliability, but there was little I could do to stop him from joining in the hunt if he so desired—especially if he was the one directing the hounds. I for one could do little beyond discourage them from rubbing their dirt-ridden bodies against me, so their control was best left to the professionals.

“And what about you, Magus?” Émeraude asked. “I imagine one of your ability would have means by which to aid in the hunt.”

“I do indeed.” I showed a lock of hair from underneath my cloak. “A tracking spell using a lock of Shining’s mane should be most useful, for there are only two sources of Shining’s flesh in this world: the corpse lying within the castle, and the portions of which lie in this monster’s belly.”

Émeraude hummed to herself as she glanced at the lock. “I see. Are you sure that will still be effective? The monster has had some time to digest its last meal.”

“There are a couple other tracking spells I can attempt if this fails.” I shrugged and put the lock away. “There should still be a strong link ‘tween murder and victim still linked by blood, for Shining’s essence would still be ‘pon the creature that did this. That will be simple enough to follow.”

“So long as it resolves the matter.” Émeraude glanced to her nephew. “Though you should hurry if you are going to cast your spell. Rumble is impatient to start the hunt.”

“Aye, best not to delay any further,” I agreed. “If there is nothing else we need discuss, good day to you.”

“To you as well. Good hunting.” Émeraude gave me a slight courtesy, then turned to go, her hips swaying as she returned to the castle.

“You are staring, Magus,” Stalwart murmured.

I blinked and looked away. “I was not.”

The sergeant smirked ever so slightly. “No, of course not. How silly of me.”

I frowned and turned away from him. I had not been staring at Émeraude as she departed. I had merely been ... drawn in by her fey charms, most likely. Many of the sidhe had powerful auras, and so ‘twas only natural to be attracted to them to some extent. Aye, that was it. In any event, there was work to be done.

Thus, I trotted to the gathered hunters. As I approached, Coin narrowed his heavily bagged eyes at me. “'Tis about time you arrived. We have been dallying about whilst waiting for you. You insisted we wait until the morn before you began your hunt, but who is the last to arrive? You.”

I frowned, misliking his scolding tone. True, his friend had been suddenly and brutally killed, but that was little excuse to be so rude. “Mine apologies for being later than I desired, but there were important matters that delayed me.”

Coin snorted derisively, his face flushed. “My friend would have been avenged already if not for this delay. Who knows who else might have been slain while you dithered? This is a disgrace, and you discredit your order, Magus. When I return home, I and my friends will write a letter to Canterlot condemning your behavior in the strictest manner possible.”

I could guess quite accurately how Mother would react to such a letter if she received it, though she might at least read it in full before discarding it in the nearest hearth. While unideal, I was reasonably certain my course of action was right. Especially if I had correctly guessed what type of beast we now hunted.

Before I could tell Coin what I thought of his protests, though, Rumble entered the conversation. “Ah, quit your moaning and whining. You are yapping more than the dogs. The magus is right; 'tis foolish to go hunting a beastie such as this in the middle of the night. I did not see you rushing after it last night.”

Coin bristled at the reproach. “Because my friend had just been slain! My place was by her side.” A tremor ran through his body. “And I am a merchant, not a warrior. Let us be honest, I would have only been in the way. But the fact I am not a warrior does not preclude me from seeing that little is being done. If I saw mine employees being so sloth in doing their jobs I would have had them fired.”

“Coin Counter,” I said in a flat tone, wishing to be done with the merchant so that I could do something more constructive than argue with him. “‘Tis clear that you are grieving your friend’s death, so how about you see to her and her business? It seems you are used to doing so, and I am sure her ever-so-noble family will desire to hear what has befallen her. Truly, having such a gem lost to them will dishearten them ... as well as your business partners.” I gave him a meaningful look as I narrowed mine eyes.

Coin seemed to grasp my true meaning, for he blinked dumbly and his mouth worked wordlessly for a long moment. He recovered soon enough and drew himself up, though his tone was more subdued than it had been. “Aye, you are right. I will attend to Shining in the meantime, but above all I wished for the creature that attacked her to be slain. While I am no warrior, I have other means to get what I desire. Five hundred, neigh, five thousand bits to whoever slays this beast. I care not who does it or how, merely that it is done.”

Freezy’s nostrils flared. “We are not your bounty hunters, merchant.”

Coin lifted his nose to look down on Freezy. “I will have my friend avenged, even if I must hire a band of mercenaries to see it done. Do your job or do not waste my time further. Good day to all of you.” Without giving us time for a proper response, he turned and stomped away. In truth, I was happy to let him go. Mayhaps time would cool his temper, or mayhaps this was the real Coin Counter, now revealed that his schemes were laid bare and in ruin. I could not say for certain either way, but I did not have time to waste to find out.

Rumble spat on the ground, glaring at Coin’s back as he departed. “Damn merchants, thinking they can buy whatever they want.”

Freezy grunted in agreement. “I cannot say I will be sorry to see him leave Honeyfield.”

“Let us concentrate on the matter at hoof,” I suggested. “I will feel better once this monster has been dealt with and peace returned to the land.”

“Sounds good to me.” Rumble took a boar spear from a servant and draped it across his back. “It has been too long since I last slew some beastie and mounted it on my wall.”

“Have we found a trail to follow?” I asked.

Rumble grinned widely and patted one of his hounds. “Damn right we have. My bloodhounds have not failed me once in all my hunts, and they are not bound to today. They have the scent of this monster and are raring to run it down.”

Freezy nodded and gestured towards the window the monster had climbed through. “We also found tracks that my guards followed to the nearby woods.”

“Welcome news, then.” My horn lit up as I cast a tracking spell, using Shining’s lock of hair as a focus. “Do the tracks offer any clue about what type of monster we face?”

Freezy’s wings twitched. “We are not entirely sure. The prints were canine, certainly, but I could discern little else.”

Stalwart nodded. “‘Tis not a creature I am readily familiar with. Mine instincts say ‘tis some sort of wolf, but I am not sure what exact species. ‘Tis too large to be a normal wolf, yet too small to be a dire wolf—a full grown one, in any event.”

I immediately noted a problem with the hypothesis. “And what wolf do you know of that can climb up a sheer stone wall?”

“No natural creature,” Stalwart admitted. “I do declare that everything about this thing’s behavior is queer to me.”

Stalwart had spent time in the Long Patrol and spent years training the youth of his clan in the warrior arts, so if he did not know what sort of creature we faced, it was almost no doubt a rare or unusual one. This was yet more information I put into the puzzle before me, and a solid picture now formed.

I finished my tracking spell and immediately felt it tug in the direction of the woods. “I think it likely that we face some sort of supernatural creature. ‘Tween this creature never having menaced the county before, its strange behavior, and that none can easily identify its tracks, it strikes me that we are dealing with something alien.”

Freezy stiffened, and her eyes narrowed. “Some sort of demon, perhaps?”

I shook my head. “I see it as unlikely. I considered that myself while I was eating my breakfast, so I studied the protective wards of the castle. (1) While they are faded, they have not been broken. If a creature such as a demon forced its way into the castle, the wards would have shown it.”

1. As is the case today, many important buildings (especially castles or other such fortifications) had various wards placed on them to prevent intrusion by certain types of spirits. While varying in quality because they had to be long-lasting and able to deal with a wide variety of potential intruders, the protective wards during this time period were useful in at least slowing down an intruder, if not stopping them completely.

“Bah!” Rumble waved a dismissive hoof. “Let us stop picking over every last detail like gossiping hens and get to the hunt. We will know what we are dealing with when we see it. And whatever the monster is, a good few inches of steel should be enough to end it.”

“Knowledge is often the best weapon ‘gainst a monster,” I countered. “Understanding our quarry could make our task much easier.”

Rumble barked out a laugh. “Exactly what I would expect some bookworm magus to say. You need to spend less time with your books and more time getting out and into the world. Out here you can live your life instead of just reading about it.”

I frowned. “I find books quite useful.”

“Anyway,” Freezy interjected, “it would be best if we got going.” She opened her wings and hovered over the ground. “I and my fellow guards will watch from the skies while the rest of you proceed over the ground. We will lead the charge and harass the monster when we have identified it.”

“That sounds reasonable.” In truth, I expected Freezy to do whatever she desired when it came to battle. It seemed best to go along with any reasonable proposal. I could always assist her and her fellow pegasi with my spells from a distance.

Rumble stretched his limbs as he limbered up. “As long as thou and thy flying turkeys do not steal all the glory. We will have words if you kill the beast before I get a single charge in.”

Freezy glowered at Rumble. “I will do as my duty demands.”

Rumble returned her glower, not backing down. “And as the future count of Honeyfield, I am going to be thy master. Do not forget that.”

I interpose myself between Rumble and Freezy to stave off the brewing conflict. “Rumble, could you release the hounds? Freezy, be so kind as to start scouting ahead. The sooner we bring down this monster the better for all of us.”

The two of them glared at each other for a long moment, but eventually they broke their deadlock and turned away from one another. Rumble barked orders to his servants, and soon we were following his hounds as they sniffed out the scent of our quarry. For his part, Stalwart followed along my side.

We moved at a brisk pace. I was thankful that I had taken to running as part of my morning exercises, otherwise I would soon have found myself badly winded by the experience. As it was the start of our trip was merely uncomfortable, but not nearly unbearably so. Even if gallivanting about the countryside was not desirable to me.

As we proceeded forward, Rumble took a canteen from one of his servants and drank heavily from it, then offered it to me with a grin. “A drink for you, milady?”

I sniffed and detected the aroma of wine from within the canteen. “Should you be drinking so early in the morning?” I asked, pushing it away. The last thing a magus needed to do while chasing down a monster was become intoxicated. Such tales where it did happen rarely ended well, and usually with the magus’ sudden and premature demise.

“Bah!” Rumble took another deep draft of his wine. “You are just like my mother and Émeraude, always naggin’ me about when and how much I should be drinking. I will tell you what I tell them: I am not some wee little maiden who cannot hold his drink. Nothing wrong about enjoying a hunt with some drink, neither.”

I could not help but find many faults with his logic. “Drink will slow your reflexes and impair judgement—something that could lead to fatal consequences, such as being pounced ‘pon by the monster and having its claws rip into your flesh as his teeth clench down on your throat, both snapping your neck with a savage jerk of its head and then tearing your throat out, resulting in you either dying instantly or choking on your blood as the monster then rips out your entrails to feast upon.”

My warning had the opposite effect I desired. Rumble threw his head back in a big belly laugh. “My, you are a morbid little creature, aren’t you?!” He patted me roughly on the back, the gesture from such a large, barrel-chested stallion nearly knocking me to the dirt. “Always good to see a maiden who is not afraid of a little blood and guts! What about thee, sergeant? A drink to liven the hunt?”

Stalwart shook his head. “I do not drink while on duty.”

Rumble shrugged. “Suit thyself. Leaves more for me.” To emphasize his point, he took yet another swig from his canteen, emptying it in the process.

Recognizing the futility of convincing my sloven companion to stop drinking, I decided to concentrate on more worthwhile ventures. Since we were relatively alone, now seemed like an opportune time to ask Rumble some questions. “So, if I may change the topic, may I inquire why you desire to become the Count of Honeyfield?”

“What?” Rumble tossed the canteen to a nearby servant before turning his full attention to me. “‘Tis not hard to figure out: ‘tis mine by right, obviously.”

I shrugged, keeping my tone neutral as I continued. “Some might argue that High Stakes’ daughter should inherit the title. She is quite possibly his only remaining living child.”

Rumble snorted at the suggestion. “You would give a whole county to a little sprite like Snowfall? Come now, Magus, I love my niece to death, but a bookworm such you must know how bad of an idea that is. She would be eaten alive by the other nobles and everypony else around her. Even her mother does not want the title for her.”

“That is a point.” Child rulers rarely turned out well, and far too many things could end poorly for Snowfall. The child could end up as nothing more than a puppet even once she became an adult, or the affairs of the county could be poorly maintained. That did not even get into all that could happen to the child when greedy family and foreign enemies were accounted for as well. “Did the late count ever give his own opinions on who should succeed him?”

“Not all that much,” Rumble grumbled. “I tried to broach the topic a couple of times, but he never wanted to talk of it, not after we lost Roller. It always returned him to his melancholy, so I stopped bringing it up.” He stopped walking for a moment to scratch his chin. “He did mention the idea of Snowfall succeeding him someday when she was older. We had a few scares with his health over the years, and after Snowfall was born that offered him the chance to pass his title to his child if he lived long enough.”

“But now you are against the idea?” This was important information. I had only found a few windows into the late count’s thoughts, especially where the succession was concerned.

“Like I said, she’s too young,” Rumble replied. “Do not misunderstand me, I am not about to kick my kin out into the cold. As long as I am in charge she will have a roof over her head, hot food in her belly, and anything else she might need. I am thinkin’ I will make her a knight too, and find her a fine marriage when the time comes. Snowfall’s all I got left of High now, and I swear I will give her a happy life if 'tis within my power.”

“Admirable, even if it might run counter to her father’s wishes.”

“Bah! Best that Honeyfield were ran by a pony with a strong hoof.” Rumble grinned and patted his boar spear. “Nopony is going to push me around, something all the more important with war coming.”

“You think there will be war?”

Rumble’s grin disappeared into a grim scowl. “I do not like what I hear about this new gryphon king—what is his name—Severe or somesuch?”

“Severus,” I corrected.

Rumble waved dismissively. “Whatever. Point is, I feel war coming in my bones. ‘Tis the same feeling I got before we went to war with the pegasi. This new king came to his throne through bloodshed, and I do not see him stopping after seizing the throne. No, he’s a young king looking for glory and loot. He’s going to look around and see Equestria as a big, fat golden egg-laying goose.”

I grunted unhappily, for I too was wary of High King Severus. What I had heard of him did not give me much confidence. “Her Highness is hoping to reason with him and that peace can be maintained. Gryphonia has only just finished a decade-long civil war. At the very least, it will take him time to consolidate his reign and rebuild his nation to a point where it can go to war with Equestria.”

Not to mention Mother hoped that the lords of Gryphonia could be encouraged to ... resist to the demands of their king. (2)

2. Up to this point in time, it was a common policy for Equestria to encourage Gryphonia’s lords to rebel against their monarch, often funneling money and material support to one faction or another through the centuries in order to keep Gryphonia weak through division. Considering the few rare periods where Gryphonia was united under a strong monarch almost always resulted in a war with Equestria, it’s not hard to see why Equestria favored fomenting internal divisions.

“With all respect to the princess, I do not see it working this time around either.” Rumble led the way as we reached the edge of the woods where the monster’s tracks disappeared into, and he pulled his boar spear from his back. “If we are to face war, Honeyfield needs a strong hoof in charge, not a child just off her mother’s teats. And Shining’s dead, so no sense even considering her. Pity, too—she had a nice tight rear just asking for a good slap.”

I scowled at Rumble’s back as we continued through the woods. ‘Twas true that a child ruler was hardly an ideal choice to take over Honeyfield, but I was not so confident about leaving Rumble in charge either. While he struck me as a capable warrior when he was not sodden with drink, his character was of suspect. It struck me as unlikely he would be able to fix Honeyfield’s finances, and I could easily see him using the public coffers to feed his various hungers. Then there were his manners, his love of drink, and his behavior towards mares...

However I looked at it, I did not see a wholly satisfactory solution to the problem before me. Still, there were a couple things to bring up with Rumble. “And what of the stallion who claims to be High Roller?” I asked, stepping over a fallen log. “He says he can produce some proof that he is who he says he is, and if ‘tis true he would be the lawful heir to his father’s title.”

Rumble hocked and spat on the ground. “If he is my nephew then I am a flying pig. Let me tell you how it is: Roller meant the world to Stakes, and it devastated his father when he didn’t return from the war. Thus 'twas a great surprise to us when Roller returned to us out of the blue less than a year after the war’s end. There was great cause for celebration, and my cousin’s spirits were greatly improved by the return of his son.”

I could guess the course of this story. “And this was in fact not High Roller?”

Rumble growled and chopped down a branch blocking our way. “Aye. A couple of weeks after Roller returned to us, a knight from the Order of Sol Invictus came to us and denounced him as a fraud. The pony whom claimed to be my nephew was naught but a con artist who used illusions and transformation magic to disguise himself and swindle honest ponies of anything of value. His disguise was so perfect that none of us were the wiser. Nopony except Émeraude, anyways. She called for a knight that was on the trail of the swindler. The lass fancied herself some sort of investigator and warlock hunter.” (3) Rumble’s severe expression lightened somewhat. “She was a pretty lass, too. Pity she had no interest in a fun romp for the night.”

3. Records say that this knight was Dame White Knight, who at this point her career was on a mission to track down the con artist and identity thief Double Ditto. It was during the time period after the Lunar Rebellion that she started to gain her reputation as a formidable investigator and warlock hunter.

“And the pony who had pretended to be Roller?” I asked, trying to return the conversation to less lecherous topics.

“Arrested and dragged off in chains by the lass.” Rumble shrugged. “There were a great many ponies he had swindled, and the knight hoped to recoup at least some of their losses by interrogating him. I was more concerned with my cousin, who returned to melancholy after his son was once again stolen from him. In truth, Roller probably died during that massacre when the warlocks betrayed us, or else in the prisoner camps. I knew of more than one pony who got dragged off by those damnable warlocks and was never seen again.”

“I see.” That would explain why Rumble was so dismissive of his new would-be nephew. “It seems you have good reasons to be wary.”

“Damn right I do.” Rumble walked around a bush, his gaze switching between some overly large canine tracks and to where his hounds were going. “And that fraud was not the last to try and trick us. Though we knew to be cautious by then, and I still am now. Be honest, you cannot help but think the circumstances by which that pony had come to us was not suspicious. He proclaims this wild story about being captured by pirates, taken to Freeport, and then escaping just in time to claim his inheritance from his recently dead father. Any who believes that story deserves to be swindled.”

“It is far-fetched, admittedly.” I had every intention of being completely sure either way, but there seemed to be little reason to upset Rumble with that information.

“So, now that we are done hemming and hawing over why everypony else should not be the count, you can get about declaring me as the rightful heir of Honeyfield.” He let out an uproarious laugh and drew me close by wrapping a strong leg around my shoulders. He smirked lecherously down at me as he held me, holding me close enough to smell the wine on him. “And then after we have slain this monster, mounted it on the wall, and declare me count, we could have an enjoyable night together to celebrate?”

“I think not.” I cleared my throat and pushed out of Rumble’s hold. Whatever I might have been thinking about the succession for the county of Honeyfield, I had little desire to engage in that with him. Thankfully, Stalwart came to mine aid when he placed himself between myself and Rumble and fixed the knight with a stony face.

“Bah!” Rumble took another canteen from one of his servants. “Nothing like a good roll in the hay after a brush with death. You do not know what you are missing.”

“I think I will survive,” I informed him. “Besides, I would have you know that your great aunt offered me a similar proposal.”

Wine sprayed from Rumble’s lips as he sputtered, and he nearly fell on his face. “Ye gods, I did not need to hear that! A mare her age should not go around trying to snatch up comely fillies like that!”

“Her being a mare may only be a technicality,” I mused.

“I do not want to hear about it!” Rumble motioned sharply to one of the servants. “More wine! I want to forget I ever heard this!” He drank deeply from his fresh canteen as he departed our company. Something I did not mind at all.

“That was a bit terrible of you, milady,” Stalwart murmured.

“It made him stop, did it not?”

Stalwart hummed in affirmation. “That much is true. Nonetheless, I would be careful where the fey is concerned.”

“I have every intention of being so,” I assured him.

Still, mine interview with Rumble uncovered valuable information, even if the facts of the situation before me only seemed to be growing more complicated. Shining’s death and Count High Stakes’ murder added problems to the equation I had not needed, but the facts were what they were, and ‘twas my duty to do what I could to find justice in Honeyfield. Even if the majority of Honeyfield was unaware that their count had been murdered.

That I intended to keep to myself for the moment. If the murderer knew I was onto them, they might seek to destroy what little evidence was left of their misdeed. For the time being they must have thought they were in the clear, and that was to mine advantage.

Dealing with this monster would be an even greater boon.

We continued through the woods as we followed the mysterious tracks. The trip would not have been so bad were it not for the dirt and grime clung to me, and the fact that at any moment we could be ambushed by some supernatural predator determined to feast on our flesh.

We were in the process of climbing our way over some fallen trees when Captain Freezy flew down to us. She landed, her face as grim as ever. “We found something you should see.”

“And what is it?” I asked.

“I think it best for you to see it with your own eyes to judge first.” Something flickered over her features before she added, “I believe that was your method for investigating, was it not?”

“It has its uses.” As Mother had taught me, ‘twas practical to let everypony come to their own conclusions about what had happened during a crime before they spoke to one another. It helped prevent one party from biasing the others right from the start, especially if one of them was more prestigious than the other. In more than one instance, important facts or theories could be dismissed or left unheard merely because the most important pony in the room had spoken first and controlled the conversation from then on.

Stalwart motioned to Freezy. “Please, lead the way.”

“Very well.”

Since it looked like it would take a bit of time for us to arrive at our destination and Freezy did not seem to be in a rush to get there, I decided now would be a good time to speak with her. “Captain, would you mind if ask thee a few questions?”

Freezy glanced at me out of narrowed eyes. “What is it you wished to ask?”

“I was curious about thy relationship with the late count.”

Freezy’s brow furrowed and her voice cracked like a whip. “Why? So you can gossip about us at the Canterlot court? Will you talk with your highborn friends of the scandalous affair ‘tween a count and the head of his guard, and titter in disapproval of their bastard daughter as you sip ‘pon your fine wines?”

I glared back at her, not caring for her tone. “Neigh, I ask so that I can better understand how best to handle the succession. Gossip is of little use to me.” Not that I had many friends with which to enjoy gossip anyways. Most that were interested in speaking about such things were hardly worth speaking with to start with, or were merely trying to gain valuable information from me. Besides, I was more often the subject of such gossip than a purveyor.

Stalwart raised a hoof to try and forestall further objections. “Peace, Captain. I assure you, Magus Midnight is an honorable mare who has nothing but good intentions.”

Freezy’s gaze flicked between us before she turned to continue walking. “If ‘tis the succession you wish to hear about, then you have already heard everything I care to say on the matter. I merely wish for my daughter to receive a stipend to allow her to live comfortably.”

I had not forgotten what she had told me of course, but I was not wholly satisfied with her answer. “Thy daughter has the opportunity to become one of the great ladies of Equestria. Does that not interest thee?”

“No,” she stated firmly. “Your Unicornian titles are naught but a trap as far as I am concerned. Whoever takes on one of your titles is caught up in a terrible game where struggling with the other lords of the country becomes a way of life, whatever your intentions or desires. All of you ceaselessly play your politics, scheme, and plot to destroy one another for trivial exchanges. Neigh, I wish none of that for my daughter. Not when she is but a child.” She looked to me. “Tell me, Magus, how many children who come to inherit a title suffer an unfortunate accident, or lead short and unhappy lives where they are crushed by the burden of an inheritance they never asked for?”

“Too many.” It was no secret that inheritance going to the eldest child was an imperfect system. ‘Twas inevitable that ponies would inherit a title they were unsuited for sooner or later, and more than one great family has been destroyed because of the poor stewardship of an incapable successor. Hence why Her Highness often had to intervene personally when such things occurred. Though it was hard to deny that more than mere accidents had happened to young lords and ladies whom had yet to reach their majorities, as well as jealous family members or rivals.

The guard captain nodded. “And I want none of that for my daughter.”

“And what did her father desire?” I asked.

Freezy whirled about and snapped at me with unexpected ferocity. “I am her mother, and as Snowfall’s sole remaining parent I know what is best for her!” An awkward silence fell over the forest, Freezy’s sudden screaming taking me and Stalwart aback. Seeming to realize she had overreacted, her fierce glare soften and she averted her gaze from us. “Mine apologies. What I meant to say was that with High ... gone, ‘tis I who should make these decisions for Snowfall. My daughter is too young to decide on such a thing.”

“She could always decide for herself once she reaches her majority,” I pointed out. “It is the right of anypony to decline a title if they do not desire it.”

“And expose her to the dangers of being a countess in her minority? I think not.” Freezy shook her head and huffed. “It was not like this in Pegasopolis. There were no worries about who was married to who, or how a child was born. We certainly had no worries about who would rule us either, for only those that had earned their rank rose, and there was none of this conflict ‘tween ponies like you see in Unicornia.”

“Is that why the Ephorate was controlled by but a few families?”

Freezy froze in her steps. “Excuse me?”

“I think it not a coincidence that many of the ephors had parents that were also ephors,” I said. “Mayhaps ‘twas not always the eldest child who inherited their parent’s position, but it was rare for the post to drift to further than a first cousin. At least for the first four seats in the Ephorate, controlled by the Doo, Steel, Kicker, and Charger clans. The fifth was often traded between whichever minor clan had risen to prominence when the position opened, and even then each had a family that typically dominated their clans and provided leadership. Sometimes the family that held prominence changed, but that is true of Unicornia as well, as the passage of time causes some families to rise and others to fall in fortune.”

Freezy’s eyes narrowed. “Pegasopolis and Unicornia were nothing alike. Unicornia is controlled by decadent nobles and doddering magi who accomplished nothing, while Pegasopolis was ruled by honorable and strong warriors who defended Equestria.”

I scowled at the house guard captain’s attempt to scold me. “Mayhaps that was true of old Pegasopolis, but that was not true of the Pegasopolis I came to know.”

“Milady,’ Stalwart hissed, a warning I cared little for.

Freezy turned to face me. “What foolishness are you speaking of, Magus?”

I blinked slowly as I came to a stop in front of her. “While I will allow that the Pegasopolis of old may have been an honorable nation of warriors, the Pegasopolis of the last war was not. Aye, there were some who held onto their honor, but the nation as a whole had fallen. The Pegasopolis I knew declared war not because ‘twas just, but because they thought ‘twould be an easy war ‘gainst shopkeepers and farmers. The last ephors thought they could become the hegemons of Equestria by removing the rightful queen of Unicornia.”

“That is a lie!” Freezy’s wings snapped out as she glared down at me.

Stalwart placed a hoof on my shoulder. “Magus, now is not—”

“I am not done, Sergeant,” I interrupted, not bothering to look his way. “Thou wouldst declare my words a lie? Pegasopolis said it fought for the right of self-determination of mortal ponies, but the ephors continued their war when Unicornia declared they wished to keep their queen. Even when peace could easily have been obtained with Pegasopolian and earth pony independent from Queen Celestia’s rule. What’s more, for all its declarations of honor, it did not take long for Pegasopolis to call on the aid of foul warlocks for their cause.”

“It was not our wish to work with them!” Freezy shot back. “That was all Swift Blade’s work. He fooled us and corrupted our cause.”

I held Freezy’s gaze. “And yet you tolerated them within your ranks, and then you accepted the leadership of the Avatar. Even when there was an obvious evil amongst your numbers, you did nothing.”

Freezy huffed and turned her back to me. “Evil as declared by Unicornia. You are in no place to claim your justness, not when Unicornia was lead by an evil foalslayer like Sunbeam Sparkle.”

My jaw tightened at the mention of Mother. “My—while the Archmagus of Canterlot may not have been a pony of virtue, I would still take her ten times over the warlock and the Avatar. Unicornia sacrificed nopony to fight their war while Pegasopolis aided the warlocks in sacrificing two archmagi and more for their foul magics.” I lowered my voice as I continued. “And I remember well a night where an innocent filly was prepared to be sacrificed to the Avatar, all while the heterori, the best and brightest ‘mongst the sons and daughters of Pegasopolis, watched and aided the warlocks in their aims.”

“I need not listen to another word of this!” Freezy shot me one late hateful glare and spread her wings. “Follow the trail on your own. I will go on ahead to seek out our quarry. I think the monster’s company will better suit me than your own.” At that she flew off, leaving me and Stalwart alone.

My bodyguard let out a long sigh. “You should not have done that. The topic of Pegasopolis is a sore one for many pegasi.”

I turned away from Stalwart, not wanting to look at him directly. “What I said was nothing but the truth.”

“Mayhaps, but that does not mean you should have said it.” Stalwart removed his helmet to run his hoof through his yellow mane. “‘Tis unwise to offend a pony whose help we may need.”

Mine ears wilted slightly. “Aye, that is a point... I may have went too far.” Mayhaps my mother’s temper manifested within me again. She was a fiery pony, and there were times when it was most difficult for me to keep my composure. I shook my head to try and clear my thoughts. “But ‘tis frustrating to hear ponies idealizing Pegasopolis when it fell far from those ideals, especially near the end.”

“Many pegasi like Freezy have struggled since the Rebellion,” Stalwart said. “Save those that remained loyal to the Commander, pegasi who were once proud warriors now struggle to find their place in the world and make ends meet. Before, pegasi never had to worry about how they were to eat or where they would sleep, as ‘twas all taken care of by the state.”

“More like provided by Unicornia and the earth ponies,” I grumbled, scratching my leg. “Pegasi certainly seem to enjoy lording over ponies how they nobly defended us, but are slow to acknowledge how ‘twas the hard work of unicorns and earth ponies that fed them and gave them the arms and armor that let them be warriors.”

“I think that is a bit harsh of you,” Stalwart said with a shake of his head. “Most understood that cooperation was the key to all our survival, ‘tis just that most pegasi were proud of who and what they were. Now though...” He stared off in the direction Freezy had flown. “Being a house guard or a mercenary is a far cry from serving as a proud warrior and protector of a nation. And that is for those lucky enough to find a job where they can bear arms—most make do with far more mundane jobs that leaves their warrior souls crying in anguish.”

I headed after Rumble and his hounds, not wanting to fall too far behind as I fell into my thoughts. “Then mayhaps they should not have started and kept fighting a war that ultimately destroyed Pegasopolis.”

Stalwart followed alongside me, maintaining his even tone. “Few knew that was how the war would end. Most did not think Pegasopolis could lose, much less be destroyed. Pegasopolis had endured the Great Migration, numerous wars with the gryphons, the invasion of King Sombra, and countless other trials over many centuries. ‘Twas unimaginable to think the war with Unicornia would be our undoing.”

I scratched my neck as we weaved our way through the trees, thinking how best to reply. “So I am to excuse their actions because they were ignorant of what would happen? That they did not know that their course was self-destructive?”

“No, not that,” Stalwart answered. “Merely that I think it best you understand what plagues them. Their pride as warriors has been wounded, perhaps fatally. Their very spirits bleed, and it does not seem that the wound will close anytime soon.”

“'Twas my mother’s intention to fatally wound Pegasopolis,” I stated firmly. “As long as it stood and the pegasi had the means to fight, there was going to be another war, simple as that.”

Stalwart grimaced as though he had been struck by a spear. “And I am not arguing against that or your logic. But 'tis not logic I call for, but empathy.” The sergeant hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “I ask that you do not repeat what I am about to say, but I think you should know something about the captain.”

I frowned but then waved for him to continue. “Aye, I promise not to discuss what thou wilt tell me.”

Stalwart nodded. “You should know that Freezy lost much of her family during the war. The fighting in the tunnels under Canterlot in particular took their toll.” His look became distant. Mayhaps he was reminded of his own time during the siege, of being wounded or how he lost his wife during in those same tunnels. “Her brother was ‘mongst the heteriori, and died when the Avatar and her warlocks were defeated.”

Realization sparked. “Ah, they would explain why she chose to retire from the argument. I reminded her of how her brother had died.”

“And talking of the dishonor that took place in Pure Line’s manor did not help,” Stalwart agreed. “Nearly everypony lost somepony to that siege, and the pegasi who fought ‘gainst the Commander do not even have the benefit of having a victory to justify their sacrifices.” I opened my mouth to protest but Stalwart held up a hoof to forestall me. “Again, ‘tis not the justice of their cause I argue for, but understanding where these pegasi stand as ponies.”

I scowled as I mulled over his words. While I had no sympathy for the rebels’ cause, I could at least understand the pain they felt after their defeat. Pegasopolis’ defeat was total as ‘twas final. For warriors who placed so much value on their honor and pride, their souls could never recover from such a loss.

We all expect something for our sacrifices. Magi studied and practiced magic to perfect their abilities, farmers farmed to gain bounty from the land, and craftponies worked their crafts to make a profit with their wares. What was a warrior that knew only defeat? When they prepared from birth for combat only to be wholly defeated in the single most important war of their lives, and then had their arms and armor stripped from them? Even their identities had been torn from them when the clans had been dissolved. I found I did not have a satisfactory answer. The only way forward I could see was for each pegasus to find a new path for themselves that did not include war, but I knew that few of them would find that a palatable answer.

“I think I understand the meaning of thy words,” I said.

“Good, for there was another way by which you offended her.” I raised an eyebrow and he continued. “She thought you were going to give the county to Snowfall despite her expressed desires.”

“I said no such thing,” I protested. “I have made no decision yet regarding the succession and only sought to clarify where she stood.”

Stalwart held a branch out of my way so that I could move past it. “I do not think that is how she saw it. You spoke of the idea, how it might benefit Snowfall, and what her sire might have desired, all despite the fact that she had firmly stated her own wishes for Snowfall. I wish no offense, but you can come across as ... quarrelsome if a conversation becomes a debate.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Last I checked, a debate usually had at least two opponents to be an actual debate.”

“Aye, but you need not argue with everypony merely because they have given an opinion you disagree with,” Stalwart stated. “Arguments are like battles: some are not worth fighting. Because you have offended Freezy deeply, she will be less likely to cooperate with us or listen to whatever you have to say about her daughter. Was that worth winning some passing discourse?”

I let out a sigh. “In that light, neigh.”

Stalwart looked off in the direction Freezy had flown. “I will see if I can make peace with her later, once her temper has had time to cool.”

“I would appreciate it.” It seemed that I might have unknowingly been foolish. That was irksome. One of the last things I needed to do was create more trouble for myself when I already had plenty to deal with. I was far too tired to have to think so hard and consider how everypony might perceive every word I might say. At least in Canterlot I had a better idea how ponies were to take my words.

“In any event, it seems that we have found what the captain wished to show us.” Stalwart pushed aside some branches to reveal a clearing.

Rumble stood alongside his dogs and servants, tapping his hoof impatiently. “About time you got here. Freezy and her band have already struck out ahead, and I do not plan on waiting for them to get the glory. Do your business here and come along.” Without giving us time to react, he barked orders to his servants, then made off further into the woods with his dogs.

I frowned after him, but there was little point in stopping Rumble if he was determined to go. It seemed also that Freezy might hunt down the beast with her guard without assistance now that I had offended her. That could lead to unfortunate results if she let her anger cloud her judgment, but first I needed to determine what had caused both Freezy and Rumble to dash forth.

I followed the monster’s tracks with Stalwart’s assistance, and a peculiar thing revealed itself before me. Where before our quarry’s steps had seemed purposeful, even if it did not seem to have any specific destination in mind as it wound its way through the woods, they suddenly seemed to be staggering about the gale as though the creature had become drunk and could hardly remain on its paws. Then they became all the more curious: the paw prints changed, slowly shifting shape with each step until they became … hooves. Whatever it had been, the creature had evidently collapsed onto the ground, its impression faintly held by the surrounding loam.

“Most curious,” I mused.

Stalwart carefully studied the prints, and a deep frown creased his features. “What do you make of it?”

“Likely we deal with a lycanthrope,” I stated. “A werewolf most likely, unless I miss my guess.”

Stalwart’s wings twitched and he stretched them out as he glanced out into the woods. “How certain are you?”

“Reasonably so.” Feeling a particularly annoying itch, I scratched my shoulder. “The fact the attack happened during the full moon, the supernatural strength of the beast that killed Shining, its unusual behavior, and now evidence of shapeshifting before us. Though now I am curious about what type of lycanthrope we now deal with.”

“What do you mean?”

“There are three main types of shapeshifters of this variety,” I explained. “First, are those that have been cursed with lycanthropy. Usually by some form of evil magic, and are afflicted with uncontrolled transformations wherein they usually go on rampages across the countryside for some baleful purpose. The second is contracted lycanthropy, which is much the same as the first but in the form of a disease instead of something purely magical. The third and final way is through a controlled magical transformation, usually through some potion or polymorphic spell. The second options strikes me as less likely in this case, as there have been no reported cases of the disease in this area for quite some time.”

Stalwart followed the tracks of the pony-turned-wolf as they led to the edge of the clearing. “Could this be some new outbreak of the plague?”

“Possibly, but that does not strike me as likely,” I said as I followed my bodyguard. “Those infected with the disease tend to attack at random, usually the first pony they come across and on the edges of civilization. Not to mention that our werewolf ran away as soon as it slew its victim, which is unusual for one afflicted by the plague. They usually stop to consume those they attack, or will attack those who happen across them and their kill. Their behavior is usually the most like that of a natural wolf.”

“Then you think the behavior we have seen fits the other two types of lycanthropy?”

“I favor them, aye.” I nodded, scratching my leg. “A pony using magic for a voluntary transformation could have done all we have seen, and if they did the transformation right they would have remained in control of their faculties. Though a botched transformation can result in the wolf taking over, either because the magic was done poorly or the user does not have the willpower to defeat the wolfish part of their brain. Then, depending on the type of curse, an afflicted lycanthrope could have done everything we have seen. It could be the individual was cursed to hunt down Shining or was under some sort of compulsion to do so whilst transformed. Without more information, I can only speculate at this point.”

“Sounds tricky.” Stalwart led me along, following the tracks and the barks of Rumble’s dogs. “Still, we might have an opportunity to resolve this without further bloodshed.”

“That was my hope as well,” I agreed, attempting to use my tracking spell to confirm the direction of our quarry. “If we can find this pony before nightfall, then it should be a simple matter of capturing him.”

“The only issue becomes keeping him captive once we have him,” Stalwart said. “Asssuming ‘tis a him at all, in any event. These tracks strike me as belonging to a stallion, but little else can I say for certain.”

“Good to know. And aye, as you said, keeping him imprisoned will be difficult, but it can be done assuming I am given sufficient time and materials to make it work. I might even be able to cure his affliction if these transformations are a result of disease or curse. It depends on how long he has been afflicted and the exact manner of the affliction, but I know all the standard cures for lycanthropy. But first, we must find this pony.”

Stalwart nodded. “Agreed. ‘Tis likely Freezy and Rumble came to similar conclusions. Thus their impatience.” The both of us came to the top of a hill, and looking out we saw the town of Glazing before us. To my consternation, the tracks we followed led directly to it. “They probably hoped to catch this pony before they reached the town. It will be all the more difficult to find him if he got there first, for he will be able to hide amongst everypony else.”

“That was my fear as well.” I scowled as I pulled out Shining’s lock of hair. “And I think there is another problem.”

Stalwart turned his head my direction. “What is it?”

“I fear that our quarry knows we are on his track.” I held up the lock of Shining’s mane. “The tracking spell I have been using has just been cut by some form of magic. I hoped that we would be able to track him anyways even if he made it to Glazing. But now...”

Stalwart looked up at the midday sun. “But now we have but half a day to find him before he turns into a beast and slays once again.”

Author's Note

I'd like to thank my editors Chengar Qordath and Comma-Kazie, and my prereaders Trinary, Rodinga, Swiftest, Bronywriter, wolfstorm56, Stupidhand14, Alicorn Priest, and Poison Claw for all their help with putting this story together.

Chapter 5

We had but half a day to catch a werewolf before it transformed again. We did not know who it was, what this pony’s intentions were, or the exact nature of their affliction, but we needed to stop them before more ponies died. I will see it done. Pity for us my tracking spells had been countered, and our quarry was likely aware of our pursuit.

Stalwart and I made haste to catch up with the others. I knew we stood little chance of catching Captain Freezy and her fellow airborne guards, but Rumble and his servants proved surprisingly robust. Years spent hunting had given them experience I lacked, and they quickly moved through the woods towards Glazing at a pace that I could not match. It was moments like these that I cursed my short legs.

We finally caught up with Rumble at the very edge of the town. To my surprise, instead of continuing into it, the would-be lord of Honeyfield was taking time to curse at his servants and dogs.

“You mangy curs! I pay you to do one thing, and you flop it up!” Rumble stomped a hoof, making his servants wilt away from him. “I should turn the lot of you out on the street! My dogs have never lost a trail before, but now that—”

I pointedly cleared my throat. “Sir Rumble, is there a problem?”

Rumble’s face flushed a deep red. “Of course there is a problem! Somehow these dolts lost the trail! In all my years that has never happened!” He jabbed a hoof towards the servant in charge of the bloodhounds, causing the poor soul to quail in fear. “Go back and find the trail again, and I do not want to see you again ‘till we are back on track! Move, move, move!”

Having no desire to remain near their angered master, the servants scrambled to gather up the hounds and rush them back to the forest to find the trail once again.

I could not help but frown at Rumble’s abuse towards his servants. “Is it possible that the hounds are merely unable to separate one pony’s sent from another's?”

“Bah! Certainly not!” Rumble scoffed. “My bloodhounds are the best bred pack of hunting dogs in all of Equestria (1). If there’s a scent to follow, then they will find it.” A wry grin spread over his features. “I just wanted to get the help scurrying. Servants get complacent if you coddle them too often. Give them a good yell now and again and they will get hopping. Now is not the time for them to be getting lazy—not with a murderous shapeshifter running about.”

1. Indeed, to this day House Honeyfield has a well-established reputation for dog breeding, and has won a number of prestigious dog shows in more recent history.

He perhaps had a point, though I would think there were better ways to motivate ponies besides berating them in public. “Do you think the dogs will regain the scent? I am sorry to say that I do not think we will be able to follow one set of hooves amongst all the others in town.”

Rumble spat on the ground. “Not likely. Like I said, my hounds are the best. If they lost the scent, then something is wrong. Probably something magical. Magic is the only thing I know of that could foil them. Not unless we have one wily stallion who knows his way through the forest, but I doubt that.”

“What makes you say so?”

“Because the fool was stumbling through the woods like a drunkard,” Rumble explained. I accepted his expertise on the subject without comment. “He weaved his way this way and that like he did not know what he was doing. If he had any brains about how to get himself out of the woods, he would have followed the stream to Glazing. Instead the fool fell into the stream and then stumbled his way back out again. ‘Twas only when he had damn near stumbled into the town that he started going in a straight line. I am telling you, there was either something wrong with him or he did not have a clue what he was doing.”

“I see.” I scratched my neck. “'Tis possible that this stallion panicked when he transformed back into a pony and realized what he had done.”

Rumble ran his hoof through his beard. “Makes as much sense as anything else, but we still need to find him. What of yourself? Were you not using magic to track him too?”

I shook my head, and a terrible itch on my leg forced me to scratch it as well. “I am afraid that my tracking spell has somehow been blocked. I tried a couple of similar spells, but none of them worked either. I could perhaps batter my way past his defenses with the right tools and time, but I fear both are in short supply.”

“Damnation.” Rumble stomped the ground. “Well, is that not a kick to your groin?”

“What about Captain Freezy? What is she doing?” I scratched yet more, the itch being irritatingly persistent and ruining my ladylike aura in the process.

Rumble waved vaguely towards a couple of house guardponies talking with villagers on the street. “She’s running around with the guard like a mother hen, and asking everypony if they have seen anything.”

“That sounds reasonable,” I said, scratching yet more.

Stalwart raised an eyebrow. “Magus, are you well?”

I grumbled under my breath. “I know not why, but I have an infernal itch.” Looking down, I noticed a large patch of my leg was covered with a red rash. “This does not look good. Either I have contacted a flesh eating virus that is even now eating my skin to—”

“‘Tis poison ivy,” Stalwart interrupted, peering over my shoulder.

I reexamined my leg. “Or ‘tis poison ivy.” I scowled at the the red blemishes, trying to see how far it had spread. “I think I hate poison ivy. It makes me uncomfortable.”

Rumble snickered. “You probably got it walking around the woods. Mayhaps you should have been more careful about where you step?”

“I was more wary of the threat of some monster jumping out and tearing out my throat,” I growled, trying to resist the temptation to scratch. “Poison ivy did not strike me as a major threat.” Though that assessment was changing as the itching slowly spread over my body.

“If we get some time we can see the local healer,” Stalwart suggested. “She should have something to help with the itching at least.”

“What is this about itching?” a new but familiar voice said. “I hope somepony did not catch something doing something they should not have been. That could lead to an embarrassing story.”

I turned to see Subtle Song approaching us, flashing us a wide smile. “‘Tis merely some poison ivy,” I informed her as mine irritation flared. “Something I am growing to despise more and more with e’ery passing moment.”

Subtle whistled as her eyes flicked over me. “I can see why. What were you doing, rolling in it?”

“I would not be rolling on the ground or up against a tree,” I informed her. “That would be dirty.”

Subtle shrugged. “If you say so. But our lovely magus’ discomfort aside, I was curious about what is going on. I have heard rumors that somepony was murdered in the castle, but each story is more wild than the last.” She nodded to the nearest pair of guards. “And that lot has not been helpful at all. They are far more interested in barking out questions than giving answers. So would you be so kind as to tell me what is happening before I have to go to the castle itself and bed one of the servants to find the truth of the matter?”

I could sympathize with Subtle’s frustration, and it struck me as best to inform her what was going on. “I am sorry to say that Shining Quest was slain in the castle last night. We are currently attempting to find who killed her. As for what has happened...” I gave her all the details I felt comfortable telling my spymaster, including all that I had discovered in the castle and woods, as well as how we had lost the trail.

Subtle stroked her cheek as I finished my tale. “Hm, most troubling indeed. Though I noticed something queer that might be relevant to this latest unpleasantness.”

I motioned for her to continue. “If you could illuminate us about what is happening then I would be most appreciative.”

Subtle smiled with a sort of mock graciousness. “But of course, my lovely lady. At your prompting I watched over High Roller—”

“That con who's pretending to be my nephew,” Rumble corrected with a harsh grunt.

“As you say, my lord,” Subtle said without missing a beat. “I was doing what I could to learn what I could of him. ‘Twas my hope that he would come down from his room so that I could speak with him, but alas, it seemed that the only company he desired was a bottle. For he ordered more than one spirit from one of the servers at the inn, a pretty young lass who is the inn owners’ daughter. It seems that she is a childhood friend of Roller’s, and she seems convinced her friend had returned.”

“I know the lass you speak of,” Rumble said with a lecherous smile. “When I get a drink at the inn, I like to stare at Warming Welcome’s—”

“Anyways,” I interrupted, trying to keep this conversation productive. “Why do you bring this up?”

“I am getting to that,” Subtle assured me. “I merely wished to give you a complete report. Near as I could tell, High’s only guests were the family that owns the inn and a unicorn mare whom that neither I nor anypony else recognized.”

“What did she look like?” I asked

“Tall, dark-green coat with a dual-brown mane with a bee cutie mark. Here, let me show you.” Subtle’s horn glowed as an illusion of the mare formed before us. It was nopony I had ever seen before.

I looked to Rumble. “Anypony you recognize?”

Rumbled scratched his beard. “Nope, and I would remember a mare with legs that nice. Though...” He shook his head. “Nah, nopony I know. Thought there for a moment she reminded me of somepony, but I am drawing a blank. Might be she is a merchant I saw as she passed through town. Plenty of ponies that I do not know come up and down the river.”

I hummed as I considered all of this. “But why would a merchant or some other such individual passing through Glazing wish to see the pony claiming to be High Roller?”

“Mayhaps ‘twas the pony that brought him to Honeyfield.” Subtle shrugged. “Could be he made some promises for passage on a merchant barge, or even struck a friendship.”

“Somepony to keep an eye out, in any event,” I decided. “What else did you see?”

“Eventually it came time for me to retire for the night,” Subtle continued. “It did not seem likely that High Roller—or his impersonator, as the case may be—would be going anyplace after the number of drinks he had ordered. On the magus’ bill I might add.” The spymaster tsked as she shook her head. “‘Twas to my surprise that I found Roller had left his room when I awoke. I am an early riser, so I did not think he would be up before I. Especially when he should have been spending the entire morn recovering from his cups.”

Rumble snorted. “Assuming he was not merely feigning drunkenness. A con would be the type to pretend to be seeking solace at the bottom of a bottle after being rejected at the castle.”

I was not so convinced that the pony calling himself High Roller was a fraud, but still, his behavior was curious. A pony who had been deep in his drinks would not have an easy time rising early. “So what happened next?”

“I found him stumbling out of the woods a while later,” Subtle said. “He seemed even more haggard than yourselves, though from what I could see he seemed to have dodged an encounter with poison ivy.” The glower I shot Subtle’s way seemed to convince her to move forward. “Anyways, I originally thought he must have gotten so drunk during the night that he wandered out into the woods—ponies have done stranger things while under the influence of their drink. But now that I have heard your story, I cannot help but see a more sinister explanation.”

“I cannot help but concur,” I said. 'Twas possible that it was mere coincidence that High Roller came out of the forest the morning after the lycanthrope had attacked Shining, but there were too many facts the lined up against Roller. If Roller were the werewolf, ‘twould explain the lack of monster attacks in the area ‘til now. ‘Twas even possible that Roller did not even know he was afflicted with lycanthropy, or at least had not until just recently. There were plenty of recorded instance where this had been the case, especially during the early stages of the disease.

Rumble scoffed and stomped a hoof. “Knew we should have threw that scoundrel into a dungeon. Tossing him out into his rump was too good for him. Now he’s gone and murdered a mare.”

“We do not know for certain if he is our monster,” I cautioned. “‘Twould be best if we brought him into our custody and question him thoroughly. If nothing else, the next rise of the moon will tell us much.”

“And I am saying that a spade is a spade,” Rumble spat. “'Tis obvious who our villain is, but I agree that we should capture the murderer before he can escape. Then it will be the noose for him.”

I fully intended to make sure justice was done before anypony hanged. ‘Twould be most difficult to correct a misjustice if we determined Roller’s innocence after the hangmare’s rope crushed his throat into a gurgling mess of bone and muscle.

“Let us not tarry, then.” I stepped in the direction of the inn and everypony moved with me. “'Tis possible he already knows we are onto him and will attempt to flee—something we cannot allow.”

None of my companions objected, and soon we found ourselves before the inn. I briefly considered calling on Captain Freezy’s aid, but decided time was of the essence. Every minute we wasted allowed Roller an opportunity to escape. The best I could do was order a couple pegasi guards to find their captain and meet us at the inn while we searched for Roller. Not an ideal solution, but ‘twas better than the alternatives.

Our entry drew the attention of everypony in the inn. A maiden I recognized from mine earlier visit approached us with an inviting smile. She was a slightly heavyset young mare, with a light brown coat and long orange curls that draped a freckled covered face. I guessed this was Warming Welcome, for I saw no other young mares working in the inn. “What is it you desire milord? Can I fetch you a drink this fine day?”

“Outta my way!” Rumble barked, hardly missing a step as he made his way towards the stairs. “I got business with the scoundrel lodged yonder.”

Warming stepped in his way, drawing a fierce scowl from Rumble. “What is the matter, milord? Would you like for me to send a message to High to have him come down to meet you?”

“I can deliver the message just fine myself, thank you.” Rumble moved to sweep the server aside, but Warming grabbed onto his leg. “Wha—let me go, thou wench!”

“No!” Warming clung on desperately to the Honeyfield knight despite his efforts to shake her off. “I will not let you hurt High!”

“This is none of your concern!” The two of them kept struggling, and while Rumble was far larger and stronger than the serving girl, Warming refused to give in. The two of them bumped into a pair of tables, and drink and food flew through the air as the strange scene played out before us. ‘Twas not long at all before Warming’s parents emerged, screaming for a halt to the sudden madness in their business.

I was tempted to cast a spell to end this farce, but most of those I thought of to quickly end the affair risked hitting Rumble as well or one of the inn’s other patrons. After mine earlier encounter with Freezy, I did not need another important pony in Honeyfield annoyed with me.

Subtle leaned in so as to be heard over the din of battle. “We should forget this and proceed upstairs immediately. The serving wench is attempting to delay us—High Roller might be slipping out as we speak.”

I nodded in agreement. “Let us go.” Subtle led the way as Stalwart and I followed.

Warming’s eyes widened as the movement her attention. “No!”

The momentary distraction was all Rumble needed. He broke Warming’s hold with a twist of his free foreleg and, with a heave, flipped the filly onto her back. Rumble quickly followed with a punch to Warming’s diaphragm that knocked the wind out of her.

“Ha!” Rumble cawed as he stood over the gasping serving girl. “Know thy place, filly!”

Whatever transpired next did not concern me, for I quickly found myself upstairs and before the door to High Roller’s room. Subtle tried the door handle but found it locked. She swiftly stepped to the side and motioned to the door. “Sergeant, if you would?”

It took but a single powerful buck from Stalwart to cave the door in. He whirled into the inn room, frowning as he scanned it. “He’s not here.”

I followed close behind him, noting that the room was empty of even Roller’s meager possessions. My horn pulsed in a spell as I checked for magic; I found traces that were quickly dissipating, probably some recently cast spell, but I discovered nothing else. Mine eyes went to the window, which was wide open. “He has escaped. Quickly, outside!”

We ran back down the stairs, nearly running over Rumble as he tried to ascend the stairs in turn. He seemed to understand our intent, for he swiftly changed directions and led us outside.

Rumble looked up and down the street, but Roller was nowhere to be seen. “Where did he go?!”

My horn flared as I cast a spell to unravel any nearby veils or illusions, but caught no sight of Roller either. “I know not. He might have left his room only a couple of seconds after we arrived, or half an hour ago. He could be anywhere now.” I tried another tracking spell, but once more found it blocked. “There might be some truth to his story about having escaped from Freeport. Such a feat would have been difficult to the extreme, and skills and magics allowing him to avoid detection would have greatly aided his emancipation. ‘Twould explain how he gave us the slip, threw off the hounds from his scent, and blocked my tracking spell.”

“Damnation!” Rumble glared about, looking as though he wished to break something. “So you are telling me we cannot find the villain?”

“I do not think we will have an easy time of it. A pony who knows the right spells can be extremely difficult to find.” I should know; I knew many of many such spells. If I wished not to be found, even a formidable archmagus like Mother would have no small trouble discovering me. “‘Tis possible he only ran because he saw such a large party coming his way, but I am more inclined to think ‘tis because he is the shapeshifter we seek.”

“Of course he is!” Rumble stomped a hoof. “Why else would he run? Because his mother’s come calling?” He rounded about back towards the inn. “I am going to interrogate that tavern filly. Maybe she knows where the villain has gone off to.”

I shook my head. “I think it unlikely Roller would tell a serving girl where he has run off to.”

“The filly’s been fooled into thinking that scoundrel is my nephew,” Rumble countered. “Aye, he probably even bedded the soft-headed idiot.”

“I think that—”

Freezy landed beside us with a pair of her guards, cutting me off. “What madness transpires here?!”

Rumble let out a frustrated huff. “We just missed our quarry. The pony claiming to be my nephew is our murderer.”

“He is our prime suspect,” I corrected. “His guilt had not yet been determined.”

“Bah!” Rumble waved away mine objection. “Do not dance around the issue, we both know the truth.”

Freezy frowned. “How did you lose him?”

I hastily recounted. Time was against us now, for our quarry had proven to be surprisingly slippery. All our methods of tracking Roller had proven insufficient to the task, and I found myself scrambling to identify what options were left to us now that we had reached a dead end.

Freezy growled deep in her throat. “I knew I should have departed without you. We would not be discussing this if I had gone out and captured this fraud with the first light of day.”

I felt mine own irritation grow, but I decided to stay out of the argument. Stalwart’s words about not diving into every debate were yet fresh in my mind. 'Tis true that I could had pointed out that Freezy was unlikely to have done better. She did not even have my magic or Subtle at her disposal, and even fewer counters to whatever spells Roller was using, but that would only have served to further entrench Freezy against me. Neigh, best to hold my counsel until it would be of the most use.

Rumble was less restrained. “Mind thy tongue, Captain,” he growled back at her. “Thou speakest to thy future count.”

Freezy’s wings flicked and a severe glower settled over her features. “Be that as it may, you are not count yet, and I am still Captain of the Honeyfield Guard. As long as those facts are true, I will do as I feel necessary.” Before Rumble could respond, she promptly turned to the other two guards. “Arrest Warming and her parents. I wish to question them about the stallion who stayed under their roof.”

“By your command.” The two of them headed into the inn to carry out their duty.

“Thou art not questioning them without me,” Rumble said. “I wish to have mine own words with them, and have that girl punished for assaulting her lord.”

Freezy returned her attention to us. “Do as you will. But for now, if you are done wasting my time, I need to organize a search for the pony you failed to capture.” She took to the sky without bothering to wait for an answer and was swiftly out of earshot.

“Bitch.” Rumble roughly grabbed his canteen and took a deep drink. “Why my cousin was ever besodden with her, I will never know.”

“The heart is a mysterious thing,” Subtle offered philosophically. “Who can say what drives one pony to fall in love with another?”

Rumble snorted. “Love’s nothing but trouble if you ask me. A fun romp with a comely mare now and again is all a stallion really needs. Most every stallion I knew that got attached ended up regretting it, ending up all ... domesticated.” He hawked and spat on the ground.

“Oh, I could hardly argue that.” Subtle batted her eyelashes at Rumble. “I never regretted a good roll in the hay after a long day.”

“If we can concentrate on the matter at hoof?” I interrupted. I did not need the two most amorous ponies near me becoming distracted and retreating to some farmer’s barn to engage in whatever this ‘roll in the hay’ business was. There was work to be done. “‘Twould be best if we decided on our next steps.”

“What are we going to do?” Rumble grumbled. “We have no track to follow, and this damnable fraud could be anywhere by now. Mayhaps Freezy’s band will find him, but I am not thinking it likely. And there are only so many hours before twilight.”

“‘Tis exactly our problem,” I stated. “The chances of us finding our quarry before nightfall is unlikely. We will run ourselves ragged searching every nook and cranny and end up with nothing to show for it. That is why I intend on using what time we have preparing for the night.”

Stalwart tilted his head, an intent look in his eyes. “What is your plan, milady?”

“The short of it? Fight this monster on a field of our choosing and defeat him.”

Rumble sides heaved with a great belly laugh. “Now that is more like it! Best way I can think of to deal with this pony who would sully my family name. I have been itching to smite some beastie with my spear.”

“Please do not mention itching,” I said, unable to resist the temptation to scratch my leg.

Subtle rubbed her chin. “But how are we to draw a werewolf to where we desire? 'Tis a wild beast.”

I tried to concentrate on explaining my reasoning instead of the infernal poison ivy that seemed to burn a third of my body now. “By knowing where it will go based on what we know about it. The werewolf went straight for Shining, a pony who also claimed the title Roller desired. If this were a monster with purely sanguine desires then it would have attacked somepony here in town or one of the nearby farms, not somepony all the way at the castle. Neigh, the werewolf has a purpose: to slay those that who desire to become the count.”

Or at least that was mine idea. 'Twas entirely possible some other purpose drove it, but I would not convince the others of my plan if I diluted mine own argument. In any event, I was relatively certain of my judgement of its behavior. Unless the pony calling himself High Roller was playing an overly elaborate game, all his actions suggested he desired to be the count of Honeyfield above all else, regardless of what beast he might unleash. Whether that was a conscious or subconscious desire was a matter of semantics.

“So you think the werewolf will return to the castle?” Rumble asked.

“That is where its prey is, no?” I tapped my hoof as I considered how best to prepare my battlefield. “Sir Rumble, it would be best if the servants were convinced to depart the castle for the night. There is no sense having them be in the way of danger, and I am sure we can dispense with their services ‘till the morning.”

“Sounds good to me,” Rumble agreed. “The lot of them would just get in the way anyways.”

I looked to Stalwart next. “Sergeant, I have several tasks for thee. First, I want thee to speak with Freezy and convince her to remove her daughter from the castle. ‘Twould be best if Snowfall were taken amongst the clouds and out of the werewolf’s reach.”

Stalwart nodded. “What else, milady?”

“If thou canst, tell the captain of our plans and convince her to aid us,” I said. “After that, there are two other things I wish for thee to oversee. I want the area around the castle to have a thick cloud cover—preferably lightning clouds.”

Stalwart hummed to himself. “That might be tricky. It all depends on what the local weather team has available and if I can get them to cooperate with me on short notice.”

I waved the issue off. “Do what thou canst. If something can be made of it then good—if not, ‘twill not be essential to my plans. Neigh, far more important is the next thing I wish to have addressed.” I withdrew a dagger from my saddlebags. “Listen well, for our quarry is a dangerous one: the typical werewolf possesses supernatural strength, speed, and senses. Those things are terrible enough on their own, but a lycanthrope can recover from all but the most grievous of wound almost instantly.”

Stalwart grunted and nodded. “I have heard about that. Never saw it for myself, but I knew a few ponies who hunted a werewolf once. They said that its wounds closed nearly as quickly as their squad opened them.”

“Just so. Why ‘tis necessary that we procure the wolfsbane.” I pulled my dagger out of its scabbard, revealing a pale blade. “Silver, especially inherited silver, can inflict the damage we need. Our quarry will not regenerate wounds received from a silver weapon, and inherited silver is outright poisonous to them.” I examined my dagger and frowned. “Though this will not be nearly enough.”

Judging from the paw marks I saw, one of the last things I wished to do was get into dagger range with such a beast. Falling into a melee with the werewolf with its all-too-sharp claws and teeth would likely end with my throat torn out in a bloody ruin as I choked to death on mine own blood.

Rumble crossed his legs over his chest. “So what are we gonna do about that? Sorry to say, we do not have a bunch of silver weapons lying about the castle.”

“Neigh, but you do have silverware you use to eat off of, do you not?” I put my dagger back in its scabbard. “I suggest take the silver to a local blacksmith to melt down and forge into weapons for us to use. I trust it will not be a issue for us to remove every piece of silver we can find in the castle to arm ourselves, Sir Rumble?”

“Nah.” A grin spread across Rumble’s lips. “We can always melt it back into silverware once we are done. Besides, ‘twill make for a good laugh when I tell ponies that I killed a werewolf with their soup spoons.” He laughed. “I can already see their faces!”

“Canst thou see to this?” I asked Stalwart. “Thou art familiar with forgework thanks to thy wife, so I think thee best suited for this task.”

Stalwart stiffened nearly imperceptibly. “I am not comfortable being away from your side for so long. There is only so much work that can be done before nightfall even if we make use of every hour available to us. And even then, the weapons we will be able to produce will not be of a high quality due to the lack of time.”

“If ‘tis our dear magus’ safety you are worried about, then worry not.” Subtle draped a leg around my shoulders and smiled widely. “I will watch over her while you see to that. Besides, we need weapons that can kill this monster if we are to win.”

“And I am hardly helpless,” I stated. “We should not be in mortal peril ‘till the rising of the moon. Roller ran from us at the first sight of us, and I do not see why he would suddenly switch tactics ‘till his transformation.”

Stalwart took a deep breath and nodded. “Very well then, I will do as you command.”

Rumble whistled loudly to his servants, who were still vainly trying to regain our quarry’s scent. “I will send my servants to gather up the silverware and have it delivered to the blacksmith here in town. That will give you time to deal with Freezy.” His eyes narrowed. “I wish you luck. She’s as frigid as her name suggests.”

“I will manage,” Stalwart said evenly.

“Very well, then.” Rumble dusted himself off. “If there is nothing else, I am going to speak with Warming and give her a piece of my mind about what just happened.”

I spoke up to try and head off the brewing storm. “Do keep in mind that she was likely just used by a con artist. You know yourself how easy it is to be deceived, and what good con artist could not prey upon the heart of a naive maiden?” In truth, I did not wish for him to be too harsh with a young mare who had suffered a moment’s indiscretion. Aye, she had misjudged, but ‘twould be hard to blame a pony who wished to see her long-dead friend again.

Rumble grunted. “True enough. Still, she assaulted her future lord.”

“And as a lord you need to show wisdom,” I insisted. “Keep in mind that your reputation as the County of Honeyfield would suffer if you started your reign by severely punishing some young maiden beguiled by a con artist. Being overly harsh will cause resentment ‘mongst the population and make them see you as heavy-hoofed. Neigh, I recommend merely chastising the maiden for her foolishness and warning her never to do it again. That should set her straight if she has any sense, and if that does not, her parents will most certainly give her a tongue lashing she will not forget for provoking their lord. Should she ever cross the line again, though, you will be more than within your rights to harshly punish her.”

Rumble pressed his lips together for a long moment. “Mayhaps you have a point.” He shrugged. “Alright then, I will give her a warning she will not forget and learn what I can from her.”

“Please inform me if you find out anything important.” I did not like the idea of leaving the innkeepers’ interrogation to Rumble and Freezy, but time was pressing. Whether Roller was actively scheming or a mere victim of some terrible affliction, I doubted he would have told the inn owners where he was running off to. Not when he would have to know we would question his hosts.

“And what are your own plans, if I might ask?” asked Stalwart.

“First and foremost, deal with this infernal poison ivy.”

After Subtle and I departed the others’ company, we made our way to the local healer’s home. As was so often the case in towns such as this, Herbal Remedy’s home was on the edge of Glazing: close enough to service the ponies of the community, but with a distance that made everypony feel safe from what they perceived as a queer craft. Though mayhaps ‘twas merely because such ponies prefered to be a step removed from their community? I had heard it argued both ways. As a whole, magi certainly prefered to keep their space, building their towers that both signified their status and placed them apart from their neighbors.

Herbal Remedy’s house was on the small side compared to most of the homes in Glazing, but in good repair. The particular aroma of her herbal garden drifted to me as we passed through her gate. I stepped up to the front door and knocked. We did not have to wait long before a filly of about ten years of age opened the door. The little unicorn had a lime green coat and an orange mane done up in a braid. She was probably either the apprentice or daughter of the town healer.

Her eyes grew wide as they fell upon me. “Who are you and what happened to you?!”

“Poison ivy. Is thy master home?” I put on the best smile I could despite the incessant itching that now plagued my very being. “For I would very much desire to see her.”

For some queer reason, the little filly squeaked and slammed the door shut. “Iwillgogethernowbye!” I heard the sound of pattering hooves as she ran to do so.

Subtle turned her head to look at me, but then hissed as she looked away again. “Midnight, remember the conversation we had about trying too hard with your smiles?”

“Aye, I have a very good memory. Why do you ask?”

“Because you are doing that right now.” Subtle grimaced as though she were staring into the sun. “Only worse than usual.”

I frowned, since it seemed that my smile was not appealing at the moment. “I am in extreme discomfort right now.”

Subtle stopped grimacing, and a second later her usual smile returned to her features. “Oh, do not be sour. We will work on your smile later. 'Tis a fine one when done right. Now, let us concentrate on what you came here to do. If fate smiles upon us we will find what you wished to discover.”

The door opened again to reveal a unicorn mare with a maroon coat and a mane of grey stripes. The smile on her face evaporated when her eyes fell upon me. “My heavens! My daughter was right, you have a dreadful case of poison ivy!”

I tried to keep mine eye from twitching too much as I addressed the pony I desperately hoped was the town healer. “I wholly agree with thy diagnosis. Can we skip to the treatment for this infernal malady that makes me wish to scratch my skin off?”

“Of course, of course!” Herbal Remedy threw open the door to let the pair of us into her home. “Come on in and we will do what we can for you, milady. Please, place your cloak on the rack so that I can get a good look at you. I am Herbal Remedy, if you did not know. Who are you?”

“Subtle Song,” my companion said with a pleasant smile as she crossed the threshold.

“Magus Midnight, and my thanks.” I entered the room and did as she asked.

A quick glance at the revealed the room to be a mix of a treatment room and alchemy lab. All the tools of Remedy’s trade laid before us, along with a table and chairs, and the shelves lining the walls were lined with potions, salves, bandages and many other odds and ends. It was far more humble than what I was accustomed to, but for a small town healer it likely sufficed.

Remedy hummed as she circled me, a deep frown on her lips. “Oh my. Near half your body has been touched by poison ivy. This is the worst case I have ever seen in all my years. What were you doing, rolling in the stuff?”

“Of course not,” I groused. “I would not wish to make myself dirty rolling about the ground, and considering the fiendish discomfort I suffer I would consider rolling in poison ivy to be the height of madness. Especially when the woods seem to be covered in the damnable plant.”

“Regardless of how you came about it, it has left quite a mark upon you.” Remedy stepped over to a shelf and examined its contents. “Now then, I have a pair of cures that will aid you. One will soothe your discomfort whilst the toxins clear up, and the second will remove the blemishes much more quickly but will be ... mmm, uncomfortable to use.”

“I am already uncomfortable,” I groused. “Give me the stronger medicine.”

“If you are certain.” Remedy pulled a small jar off the shelf. She stopped short of me, looking at the small jar and then at the large splotches of poison ivy that covered my body. “I do not think this will be quite enough for you. But do not worry, I will make more. Quick Remedy!”

The filly who had initially answered the door poked her head out of a nearby doorway. “Yes, Mother?”

Remedy held out the jar to her daughter. “Apply this ointment. I must make some more.”

“Okay!” Quick snatched the jar and ran over to me. “Just hold still, milady, while I rub this onto you.”

“Very well.” I sat down and held still.

The healer’s daughter pulled a glob of ointment and splashed it onto my side. Remedy saw what she was doing out of the corner of her eye and she quickly spoke up. “Quick, not so much as once!”

Quick’s head tilted. “Why?”

I found out why a second later when my body started burning most terribly. Lances of pain shot through my body, and spots flashed over my vision as I struggled not to fall over.

Quick frowned as she watched me writhe in pain. “Oh, that is why.”

Remedy stepped over, her horn glowing. “What have I told thee about taking things more slowly?” She cast a spell which numbed the pain wracking my body. “Mine apologies, but you did desire the stronger medicine.”

“Neigh. ‘Tis … fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “I much prefer the terrible body-wracking pain that feels like my whole body has been set on fire with my flesh being charred with unending screams of agony. ‘Tis preferable to that horrible, horrible itching. Give me more.”

Quick looked up to her mother, and Remedy shrugged, flicking her hoof for her daughter to continue. She applied more of the ointment in a long and painful procedure, but it did at least bring an end to the itching. It was worth it.

Once we were done, Remedy looked me over with the careful eye of a healer. “Feeling better?”

I nodded. “The itching has been supplanted by a dull pain, so I consider it an improvement.”

“The ointment should help clear that up for you.” Remedy put away the empty bottle. “Though in truth, Magus, I am surprised that you did not have any spells to cure yourself. I have little talent with magic. I have always been more skilled with my potions and herbs, but I would have thought the magi would have a spell to clear this right on up.”

“There is, but I, alas, have little talent for the healing arts.” I sighed as I remembered my various failed attempts at using healing magics. The theory behind it was not the issue for me, but ‘twas just something about my magic that could not do it. Admittedly, this was not an unknown problem amongst the magi; unicorns frequently have trouble with magics diametrically opposite to their natural talent. In my case, my talent for magics of the winter night, a time of atrophy, did not lend itself well to healing.

“Hm, a pity then. In that case I think I will give you the kinder medicine while you are here, if you are interested in buying it. It should at least help keep the worst of the itching at bay.”

“I might as well.” I pulled out some bits to pay for the medicine and for her time. “Though I had some other business to attend to while I was here.”

Remedy took the bits and placed them in a small lockbox. “Oh? Was there something else you needed treated?”

“No, not really,” I said. “‘Twas my hope that I could use thine alchemical equipment for a few hours. I have preparations I need to make.”

Remedy bit her lip. “I am not so sure about that. I have a very specific way I like everything, and—”

I jingled my bit purse. “I would of course justly compensate thee for the use of thine equipment and any materials I need.”

Remedy’s eyes lit up as she smiled. “I can see little harm in it. Come on then, I will help you with what you need.” She lead the way to the table where her alchemy equipment rested. “What did you desire?”

I examined the equipment and made a mental list of everything I would need. “First some honey, roseberry, pepper, wax, quirkroot, and alcohol. I need to set up a base compound for the potion I intend to make.”

“I have all of that.” Remedy pulled some jars from her shelves. “Quick, would you be a dear and get some sagewillow from the garden? We might need some later.”

“Okay!” Quick ran for the door. “ I will be right back!”

“Take thy time!” Remedy called after her. After Quick was gone, she shook her head and clicked her head. “That child, always racing back and forth as though there were not a moment to waste.”

Subtle grinned. “Maybe you should have chosen a different name for her?”

Remedy chuckled as she placed what I desired onto the table. “I might have undone myself in that, aye. Do you have any children yourselves?”

Subtle shook her head. “Nah, I have more than enough trouble to deal with without getting myself into more.”

“Neither do I.” Even if the subject of providing an heir to continue my new noble house was going to become a mounting pressure. Probably why Mother was ... becoming interested in my ... socializing.

“That is a pity.” Remedy gave us a warm smile. “I bet a cute couple like you would make for fine parents.”

Subtle giggled and then whispered into mine ear. “She thinks we are a cute couple. My, my, my.”

I blinked. “I—we are not—thou havest the wrong idea! She and I are not ... involved.” I felt my cheeks burn as words failed me.

“Is that so?” Remedy looked between us. “Then how do you know each other?”

“Subtle is my servant,” I was quick to say. “She ... assists me with things.” Blurting out she was a spy would not be the smartest thing I could do, though my brain was stumbling over how best to put our relationship.

“Aaah, now I see.” Remedy nodded her understanding. “I know how it is among the nobility: you wish to be discreet with your private affairs. Do not worry, I am not one to judge. A mare of my profession does not have that luxury, even if I had the inclination.”

Mine eyes widened as I realized her implication. “N-no, we are—”

A most terrible smile crossed Subtle’s lips as she wrapped a leg around my shoulders, unconcerned by the rashes covering my body. “No need to hide it, my love!” She delared with an elaborate flair that would have made a troubadour blush. “Our forbidden love will not be judged out here in the countryside! We can be exactly who we wish to be, and our love for one another unimpeded! I shall sing about it for all to hear!”

I pressed my hoof to her mouth. “Please do not do so. My body is red enough already.”

Remedy covered her mouth and giggled. “Oh, to be young and in love.” Her eyes looked out the window and her ears perked. “One moment, I must see to my daughter’s escapades in the garden.”

“'Tis quite fine, take your time.” Subtle waved as the healer headed outside.

“But, but, but...” I tried to voice an objection, but my mind was frozen as the healer departed, and my cheeks burned terribly.

Subtle leaned in and whispered into mine ear. “Just play along. Have fun for once and live in the moment. There is no harm in it. Besides, learning how to tell a convincing lie is an important skill for a pony such as yourself. Like most skills, it takes practice.”

I narrowed mine eyes. “This is how salacious rumors start.”

Subtle snorted and waved the objection off. “Rumors? Who pays attention to rumors?”

“Spies.”

Subtle rubbed her chin with her free hoof. “True, by that is a far cry from believing a rumor. If anything, creating a few of the right type of rumors will only add to your mystique.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What dost thou mean?”

Subtle shifted her leg to wrap around my waist. “Trust me on this, if nothing else: the common pony will make their own rumors if nothing is provided for them. Ponies love their gossip, and rumor is fuel for the furnace. Why do you think the most scandalous stories make the rounds? Because ‘tis enjoyable to engage in gossip and the more exciting the story the more enjoyable the discussion amongst one’s friends and neighbors is.”

“That does make a certain sense,” I allowed.

“And I would be surprised if your mother did not teach you that rumor can be used as a weapon.”

“She has said something to that effect.” I remembered more than one conversation where Mother had told me how rumor could be used to destroy a rival, and how there was power in committing certain outrageous acts to build a reputation. A single rival utterly destroyed in a public display was better than a score destroyed in secret, at least as far as dissuading others from challenging oneself.

“Then mayhaps you should use what you have been taught?” Subtle grinned. “A rumor or two about your love life, even if untrue, would help capture the hearts of ponies. How many great stories do you know that do not have some love in them? A hero that saves their future spouse, a war hero that returns to their beloved, or starcrossed lovers in a tragedy where all the forces of the universe conspire ‘gainst their love—all these are stories repeated in one form or another through the ages, and that is because they are what sing to the soul.”

“Is that why thou havest added such things to thy ballads?” I was a bit sceptical about that, though Subtle’s motives were somewhat unknown to me. Aye, I knew she worked as a spy for my mother and Her Highness, but beyond that I could only guess. Subtle was always tight-lipped about herself and her motivations, which left me suspicious.

“That is one of the reasons,” Subtle allowed. “Another is that it makes for a better story, but that risks us straying from the topic. My point is that a few of the right rumors could enhance your power and how much ponies are drawn to you.”

“Even if those rumors are false?”

Subtle nodded. “Doubly so. The fact our princess takes no lovers—that we know about anyways—has not stopped ponies from coming up with all sorts of scandalous stories about our sovereign. And even if Her Highness does nothing to promote these rumors, they still occur, and still ponies dream of what it would be like to capture the heart of the most powerful pony in Equestria, even if ‘tis naught but a dream. Though if managed right, that dream can be all the more powerful if it seems attainable.”

I crossed my legs over my chest as I thought over what I was being told. “Such as the idea of gaining my love?”

“Indeed.” Subtle playfully poked my side. “Whether you realize it or not, you are one of the most eligible bachelorettes in Equestria. The daughter of the grand vizier, a noblemare and a pony that has the ear of Princess Celestia herself. ‘Twould be most surprising if there were not ponies considering their chances with you at this very moment.”

Mine eyes narrowed slightly. “Such as yourself?”

Subtle let out a great laugh before she gave me a wide smile. “Mayhaps. Would you like me to try?”

“Um?” I was unsure how to respond to that, her closeness seemed all the more personal than it had been a just a few moments ago. “I am not sure that would be appropriate, considering the circumstances.”

“But its inappropriateness would be half the fun.” Subtle squeezed my side. “As the healer said, many nobles have their little indiscretions, especially when young. Though if you are unsure ... we could always pretend for a bit. Add a rumor or two to the pool.”

“I am not so sure about this idea...”

“Come on, it will be fun.” Subtle waved at the door Remedy had recently departed through. “Just see how it is like for the healer: she already thinks us lovers, so why not pretend just to see what it is like? And as I said, practicing your ability to lie now and again would not hurt.”

I let out a long sigh. “Fine, mayhaps a little lie in this instance will do no harm. But no more.”

Subtle nodded. “We can see after this. Now, relax and enjoy yourself. ‘Twill make it easier. I will lead the way.”

Remedy trotted back in before I could respond. “Sorry about taking so long. The last few weeks have been busy, and I had not realized that the harvesting of the garden had fallen behind. I needed to give my daughter further instructions for some of the more difficult herbs.”

“‘Tis quite alright,” I assured her. “The two of us have just been talking while we waited.”

Remedy looked between the two of us. “Oh, about what?”

“Something you mentioned earlier.” Subtle’s mouth curved into a wry grin as her hoof drifted to my belly. “Namely, how neither of us have a child to call our own.”

“S-Subtle!” My cheeks burned. This is not what we had agreed to. This spy always seemed to find way to confound me.

“What?” Her hoof rubbed my belly in a languid manner. “You need an heir for your house, do you not?”

“That is true, but...” I could not bring myself to look at either mare, mine embarrassment too profound.

Remedy held a hoof to her mouth as she chuckled. “Well, if you do not mind me saying so, Magus, I can confidently say as a midwife that you should be more than capable of bearing foals if you desire it. You are a bit on the small side, but you are in good health and have fine foalbearing hips.”

Subtle’s sides heaved as she barely suppressed an uproarious laugh. “‘T-tis true, you know.”

My jaw dropped as I struggled to respond to this, this ... I did not know what to call it.

“There is no need to be embarrassed by it.” Remedy placed some newly picked herbs on the table. “I know of more than one mare who would be jealous of you. Especially those who desire a large family. You could have it far worse than to have health, wealth, and a loving partner to aid you.”

“And our foal would be sooo cuuute,” Subtle purred.

I pressed a hoof to my face. “I cannot believe I am hearing this.” I pulled myself from Subtle and turned mine efforts to crafting the potions I desired. That struck me as the far safer topic than ... all of this.

Even if there might be some truth to it.

“‘Tis only a natural thing for every mare to consider.” Remedy spoke with a calm and professional tone honed by years of experience being a healer, all while assisting me setting up everything we would need. “Especially one of your age. I have helped bring many a foal into the world, and even carried my beloved daughter, so I would be happy to answer any questions if you have them. I have seen it all, so do not feel like you need to hold anything back from me. Part of my trade involves helping all sorts with every conceivable problem you could imagine. Next to some of the crazier things I have dealt with over the years, pregnancy and foalbirth is outright mundane.”

“I suppose thou wouldst know just about everypony in town then?” I asked, trying to bring the topic of the conversation to something safer territory.

Remedy nodded. “That is so. Whenever somepony gets sick or hurt they come to me, or I go to them.”

I began grinding up a few components gathered, working it to a fine powder. “Might I ask a few questions, then?”

“Not at all,” Remedy said. “As long as ‘tis nothing about what I have treated anypony for, at least. Many ponies like to keep their afflictions secret, as you should know. For whatever reasons, the subject of their health makes ponies become secretive.”

“I could perhaps sympathize,” I said with a sigh.

“Oh relax.” Subtle poked my side. “I was merely teasing. You can do the same to me, for ‘tis all fair game. Of course, some important points have been brought up...”

That was true enough, even if these were subjects I was not entirely comfortable with. But I did not have the luxury to dismiss topics that were embarrassing to me, not when they were of importance to my future and that of my house. Though some suspicious part of me wondered why Subtle had provoked the discussion on heirs and romance. Was trying to seduce me part of some ploy on her part to sneak an heir of her own into House Sparkle’s succession? Mayhaps this was some scheme on Mother’s part? Both were possible. Without knowing Subtle’s true motivations, I could do little more than guess.

I needed to speak with Gale about how best to tease others back. I was wholly on the defensive on this field of battle called teasing and I did not like it. Gale should be able to offer some wisdom on the topic.

“I will keep that in mind.” I put aside tempting thoughts of vengeance to concentrate on what had brought me to the healer’s house in the first place. “Though what I would like to ask about concerns High Roller.”

Remedy stopped to give me her full attention. “What did you wish to know? Is this about the succession? I had heard that you were here to decide that, and then I heard somepony had been killed by some monster last night. I did not know if ‘twas true or a bunch of hogwash.”

“‘Tis true on both accounts,” I said. “A monster slew Shining Quest last night, which is why I wished to make use of thine alchemy equipment. I have a plan by which to bring this monster to heel. Speaking of, could I have some hushwilly and a bit of lillypine?”

“Of course.” Remedy pulled what I required and placed it before me. “It sounds like you are a busy one.”

“So I am.” I finished my mixture and placed it on the burner to heat. “Though I thought I would take this opportunity to ask some questions if you do not mind. Do you know High Roller?”

Remedy nodded. “I did, if not intimately. I was an apprentice in those days, and I assisted my mother as a midwife during his birth. Fortune did not smile upon him, I am afraid—he lost his mother to plague while still very young. (2) A great pity, that. It all but broke Count Stakes’ heart.”

2. This was probably the Red Rasp that ran through Equestria during the relevant time period. While far from the worst plague Equestria has suffered, it claimed a number of lives and necessitated several quarantines before a cure was developed.

“Did he never remarry?”

“No.” Remedy grabbed a rag to start cleaning some of her instruments. “A few offers were made from a couple fellow noble widows, if memory serves, but he turned them all down. It was not too much of a problem, for he had an heir in Roller. But...”

“Roller disappeared,” I finished for her.

Remedy nodded. “Roller always seemed to find his way to me for one misfortune or another, even as a colt. Multiple broken limbs, a riled up beehive on one occasion, attacked by swans on another. That colt was a bit too adventurous for his own good. When he did not return to us after the end of the war...” She sighed.

“Have you seen the pony claiming to be Roller?”

Remedy shook her head. “I have not. After the first fake attempted to pass himself as the count’s son, I never went out of my way to see others.”

“I see.” I carefully watched my bubbling potion as I considered my next question. “It seems that the late count found a lover, since Snowfall was born of his affair with the head of his bodyguard.”

“That is so,” Remedy confirmed. “Love blossoms in the strangest ways sometimes, and the both of them were as happy with her birth as any other parents I have seen.”

“Pity the father will not get to see his daughter reach maturity then,” I said.

Remedy’s ears wilted. “Aye, a sad thing that. ‘Tis a hard thing for a child to lose a parent.” Her eyes flicked outside, though briefly.

“I believe ‘twas said he had a bad heart?” I probed. “It sounds like his death was not too sudden or unexpected.”

“That is so.” Remedy set about reorganizing her shelves. “I had been carefully treating him, but ‘twas a lost cause from the start. His health had never been robust, and we had had a few scares over the years, but he had always recovered in the past. But I had seen enough ponies on death’s door to know when a pony was not fated to recover, and knew that was the point we had reached with Count Stakes.”

“Wert thou when he passed then?”

Remedy shook her head. “Neigh, I had been pulled away that night when Honeycrisp went into labor. The count even encouraged me to go. After all, we all knew that there was little I could do for him.” Her shoulders sagged. “Pity, there might have been something I could have done for him when he started to pass, but ‘twas probably best this way. As Freezy said, he passed peacefully in his sleep, and there are far worse ways to go.”

“I can think of many,” I agreed. “Such as being attacked by a hungry swarm of spiders who crawl all over thee as they bite into your flesh with poisoned fangs, causing indescribable burning as fever eventually claims you whilst the spiders rip off tiny pieces of your flesh one little bite at a time. I imagine ‘tis a terrible way to die.”

Remedy’s mouth hung half open as she stared at me with a most confused expression on her face. Odd, I thought I had been quite clear in my point. “Err, yes.”

Subtle cleared her throat and took me by the leg. “Midnight, you are doing that thing we talked about again.”

I frowned. “Which thing? We have spoken of many things.”

Subtle sighed. “Mayhaps you should ask one of the other things you wished to ask while we are here?”

“Oh, very well.” I huffed, frustrated for not understanding what had everypony acting so oddly. “Did thou hearest anything of if Count High wished to declare Snowfall his heir? His death was imminent, so surely he must have said something about who should succeed him.”

“Hm, he said nothing I could hear.” Remedy worked at tying up some of the herbs she had just brought into the house to dry them. “Though most ponies figured Count High was going to declare Snowfall his heir sooner or later, unless he picked one of his cousins. He never seemed to like to talk about it, either way.”

It seemed that Count High Stakes was determined to leave the question of succession murky right up to his death. Or mayhaps he did not like any of the choices available to him? Whatever the truth, he kept it close to his chest. “And who would the ponies of Honeyfield like to see as their new count?”

Remedy hummed and her eyes drifted to the ceiling. “Everypony has their own opinions, but most just want somepony that will leave them alone while keeping them safe. Most are more concerned with the Compact being maintained than anything else, since it is what lines their coinpurses.” She sighed and shook her head. “Truth be told, our late count ... had a soft heart—probably too soft. He was the sort to keep to himself most of the time and did not bother anypony, which suited most of the ponies here just fine.”

“But there was a problem?” I asked as I finished setting up the ingredients for another potion.

Remedy blew a lock of her mane out of her face and nodded. “He did fine when times were peaceful. Ponies went to Rumble whenever a monster needed dealt with, and to Emeraud or the mayor whenever they had a disagreement that needed sorting. But when Honeyfield needed a leader...” She shook her head. “Things fell apart during the Rebellion, and I mean they got really bad. Between the militias fighting one another, the bushwhacking that went on and on, and the pegasi bandits that showed up later, a mare hardly felt like she could leave her home safely. I knew I did not. Not when I was carrying Quick at the time, and especially after her sire had been killed during the initial fighting.”

I tilted my head. This was the first time I had really heard anypony speak poorly of the count. “And Count High did nothing during this time?”

She shook her head. “I do not think he knew what to do. Ponies asked him to end the violence, at least once the rebels were pushed away from Canterlot, but he did nothing helpful. ‘Twas not ‘til Rumble returned that things got better, for he went about hanging every rebel that was causing trouble.” Her voice dropped to speak in a whisper. “You did not hear this from me, but rumors say that Rumble hired some of the pegasi bandits as guards to help return order to the land. They certainly played their part in hunting down their kin, as well as the malcontents who set the countryside ablaze.”

Something in Subtle’s eyes twinkled. “Oh my, how scandalous.”

“It got the job done.” Remedy shrugged. “Though ‘twas not ‘til the Royal Guard showed up and hanged anypony going about bushwhacking, rebel or loyalist, that things really settled all the way down.”

“It sounds like Honeyfield went through a very difficult time,” I said, trying to sound sympathetic. ‘Twas a story I had heard many time before in one form or another; between divided loyalties over who should be their chancellor, old family grudges, conflicts between the magnates and their sharecroppers, and a million personal feuds besides, the countryside had been a tinderbox waiting to be set on fire. The signing of some piece of paper signaling the end of hostilities meant little to ponies with scores to settle. Returning peace to the land had not been an easy task for the Royal Guard after the war’s end.

“In truth, what I desire is a count strong enough to keep anything like that from happening again.” Remedy went to the window to look out at her daughter, who was busy working in the herbal garden. “I do not want my daughter to have to go through such terrible times like that. She already lost a father she will never know to war, and she does not deserve to lose her innocence or worse to another one.”

“I can sympathize with that sentiment.” After all, I knew how cruel the madness of war could be to children. “How about we switch to a different topic? This one has soured on me.”

“I would not mind doing so.” Subtle shifted to my side and pecked my cheek, returning to that role she had assigned herself. “I liked better what we previously discussed.”

Remedy turned to give me a brittle smile. “That sounds best to me. Did you have anything in mind? Since it seems we have a bit more work to do before we will be done here.”

“There was one last thing I wished to discuss with thee,” I confirmed. “I wanted to know if thou havest been giving any medicines to any of the ponies in the Honeyfield Guard.”

Remedy shook her head. “I must remind you that I do not talk about the treatments I give my patients.”

“Aye, I know that, but there is a reason I ask.” I retrieved a potion from my saddlebags and gave it Remedy. “I might wish to give those guardponies one of my potions, such as this one that stanches bleeding. ‘Tis unlikely, but I wish to make sure that none of them will react poorly with your own concoctions,” I lied. “Though on my word as a magus, I promise not to tell a soul about anything you tell me relating to their health.”

Remedy pressed her lips together. “I suppose there is little harm in it. Speartip is taking some Soothing Respite to help with his arthritis, Rainy Cloud is still taking Rallying Mending to deal the pain from her broken wing, Bitter Blown has some of mine ointment for—well, a trip to the town brothel. Oh, and Captain Freezy is taking some Sweet Dreams tonic to help her sleep.”

I cocked an eyebrow when she mentioned the last one. “Is that not a rather potent tonic for such a purpose?” Sweet Dreams was normally only used when a pony was in great pain or suffering from some other malady.

Remedy shuffled. “‘Tis not something I would normally make, but Freezy asked for it specifically. She had been having trouble sleeping, you see—her lover dying was causing her no small anxiety, and worries about Stakes and the fate of her daughter kept her up at night. She swore that Sweet Dreams was the only thing that let her rest, so I carefully measured out single doses into individual bottles and gave them to her with careful instructions.”

“I see.” My gaze shifted to the shelves. “Might I look at the medicines you are proscribing to these ponies? I wish to examine them to see if they might interfere with my potions.”

“I do not see any harm in it.” She pulled the medicines from the shelves I requested. “None of it is anything special. Most of what I use is from the books I read, along with a few local medicines that have been passed down the generations.”

“Sensible enough.” I began scanning each bottle with my magic. “And is Rumble taking anything?”

Remedy snorted. “I have seen to him twice in his life. Once when he caught the pony pox as a child, and once some time ago when a rebel tried to carve him up with a dagger as he was putting order to the county. That pony has the constitution of a dragon, I tell you. I will be surprised if anything but old age kills him.”

“Quite the opposite of his cousin then?”

“Oh yes,” Remedy confirmed. “Rumble is always one to hide what he is feeling under a coat of bluster, but ‘twas not hard to tell when something bothered him, and his cousin fading before him was difficult for him. ‘Tis probably why he went on one of his hunting trips when the count was fading. Some ponies might call that callous, but everypony deals with death in different way, and some just need distance from it. Especially when ‘tis as long as drawn out as it was with the count. Not that anypony knew exactly when the count would pass at that point.”

I finished examining the medicines and mentally noted what I had discovered. “And what of Snowfall, does she have any maladies I should be aware of?”

Remedy shook her head, returning her medicines to their shelves. “Neigh, she takes after her mother and uncle. She has always been a healthy little child, and near as I can tell she shares none of her father’s weakness of the heart.”

“That is good to hear.” I returned to my potions to see them nearing completion. “I think that is the end of my questions for now.”

“Glad to be of assistance.” Remedy smiled warmly. “Though if you do not mind me asking mine own questions while we work…?”

“‘Twould be rude to otherwise,” I allowed.

Subtle smiled with an impish air. “Sure, I love to answer questions.”

“So, how did you two meet?” Remedy asked with far more innocence than the question deserved.

Subtle’s smile widened all the more as she wrapped a leg around me and began her story. When the opening details left me blushing, I knew ‘twould be a long wait for nightfall.

Author's Note

I'd like to thank my editors Chengar Qordath and Comma-Kazie, and my prereaders Trinary, Rodinga, Swiftest, Bronywriter, wolfstorm56, Stupidhand14, Alicorn Priest, and Poison Claw for all their help with putting this story together.

Chapter 6

“Thy plan is foolish.”

I scowled as Corva’s chastisement echoed within my mind. Methodically walking in a circle around the castle in the fading daylight, I held aloft a large bag of chalk dust, one of a score in a cart pulled behind me by one of the servants. “My plan should work,” I countered. “‘Tis tactically sound and based on all I have learned of lycanthropes.”

“The problem is not how likely ‘twill work, but what it foolishly risks.” It seemed that one of the consequences of opening myself to the raven spirit was that its ability to contact me even outside the Dreamscape. Where before Corva could only whisper but a few words during the night, she could now carry on full conversations of increasing length even when the sun was up. This could be useful when I had questions, but it also proved quite vexing at times, such as when Corva rather vehemently opposed mine actions.

“No plan ‘gainst such as this is without risk,” I shot back. “And I will not allow such a monster plague the countryside unopposed.”

“And thou needst not,” Corva said. “Honeyfield has several defenders to call ‘pon without placing thyself on the front line.”

I picked up another bag of chalk and resumed pouring it in a circular line. “And I am the one most suited to defeat this monster.”

“All the more reason to let the others soften up the beast first. They will be unlikely to succeed if thou wert to fall.”

I paused, misliking the implications of her words. “Are you suggesting I use the rest as fodder against the werewolf?”

“The ponies of the Honeyfield Guard made a solemn vow to protect their masters and the county,” Corva reasoned. “Rumble in turn defends his lands as a knight should. They know the risks of their duties, and coddling them does both thee and them a disservice.”

I looked up and confirmed that Stalwart directed the weather pegasi as they blanketed the sky in clouds, some of them already rumbling with electricity. Ravens also filled the sky, their caws echoing melodically. “And I have made mine own oaths, ones I do not take lightly. ‘Tis my duty to protect ponies from monsters.”

“A duty thou cannot perform if thou art dead. I will remind thee, thou hast too great a duty to Equestria to die here. Magi are too valuable to throw away their lives, and thou art far more important to Equestria than most.”

“Some would say that is arrogant to say about oneself.” I finished my circle around the castle, ending up in the gardens near the castle gate, and paid the servant for his aid.

“False modesty is its own form of arrogance.” I could all but hear Corva scowling at me. “Tell me honestly that thou art not important—thou, a magus who has the ear of Celestia herself and to whom thy mother would pass all her titles,. If there is war with Gryphonia, would thy presence not make a difference in that conflict? Hast thou no ambitions? Neigh, we both know ‘twould be a lie to claim otherwise. Yet thou wouldst throw it all away in a fool’s quest.”

Corva had a point. The fire of ambition burned within me. Where I had felt listless before the events in Appleton, I now knew where I would take my life. While I had yet to settle on some details, I knew I wished to be an archmagus someday, and nopony who sought that title could do so without being ambitious. Mayhaps that was my mother’s blood burning within me, but ‘twas not a siren’s call I could readily ignore.

I decided to switch tactics with the raven spirit instead of debating her points. “How am I to prove my skill to others if I run away from a mere werewolf? Mother advanced quickly through the magi ranks by proving she could defeat such enemies, and worse.”

Corva’s annoyed hiss echoed within my mind. “Be that as it may, she was not a fool in how she fought. Thou shouldst withdraw to the inner defenses of the castle and prepare thy defenses there. Let the others fight the monster on the outer defenses—or better yet, abscond with the lycanthrope’s targets to Canterlot and deny thine enemy of his goal entirely.”

I shook my head, pulling some of my rune-covered scrimshaw bones from my saddlebags. “I have effectively done so with Snowfall, but if I flee with Rumble as well, who might this werewolf kill instead?”

There was a moment of silence that made me wonder if Corva had lost her ability to communicate with me again, she had been suddenly cut off on more than one occasion, but then her voice spoke within my thoughts once again. “Is this about Red Steel again?”

I flinched and halted. “What about her?”

“Thou art yet haunted by her death.” Corva tsked. “Thou cannot save everypony. ‘Tis the weight of thy responsibilities and station. Ponies around thee will die, no matter thine actions.”

“I can still do my best,” I countered. “Aye, I feel guilty that Red died because I could not save her. There were means by which I could have.”

“And thou insult’st her with thy regret.” Corva let out an annoyed huff. “She made her choices and died as a warrior should. She slew her enemy at the cost of her life. Do not belittle that by second-guessing events.”

I sighed and shook my head. Corva’s argument had a logic to it. Maybe. Either way, I tired of the matter. “Fine, I will stop feeling guilty over what happened to Red. But my plan is unchanged. I cannot flee, for retreating now would cede the initiative to Roller. Right now I pick the time and place for our encounter. Will I be able to do the same in Canterlot? Where there will be even more potential victims for the werewolf to slaughter to get to his goal?”

“Thy tactics are still flawed. Thy plan requires too much to go right.”

“No plan is perfect. ‘Tis foolish to think otherwise.” I looked about the garden outside the castle gate, the buzz of the nearby apiaries echoing in my ears. I methodically started burying my scrimshaw bones one at a time in a circle. “If I find myself too badly pressed, I plan to retreat back into the castle where the Honeyfield Guard can come to mine aid.”

“Hast thou ever tried to outrun a werewolf before?”

I stopped briefly in my tracks. “Neigh, I have not. But should you not know that? I thought you said you know everything that has happened in my life.”

Corva groaned. “The question was rhetorical, Midnight.”

“Ah, I see.” I returned to burying my scrimshaw. “In that case, aye, I think I see the problem you present. Running from a werewolf would be ... difficult, to put it lightly.”

“Hence why thou shouldst rethink thy plan.”

“And I think the plan will work.” The conversation would likely had continued if not for somepony else’s voice catching mine attention.

“Busy at work, Magus?” the Duke of Blackwood asked. He was flanked by a full dozen guards, each well-armed and clad in dark green armor. Across the garden, a sky carriage bearing his house heraldry was stationed.

“We can talk about this later, Corva.” I turned my full attention to the duke. “The nature of our enemy demands the necessity of preparation.” Mine eyes flicked to the carriage. “But it seems you are making your own plans for how to deal with the crisis.”

Duke Ferme shrugged. “There seems little reason for me to risk my life. This is not my land, House Honeyfield is not of my blood, and my debt will still stand even if I depart for a time.”

“Assuming there is a House Honeyfield after tonight,” I pointed out. “You can hardly collect your debt from a bunch of corpses.”

A ghost of a grin showed itself on the Duke of Blackwood’s features. “Indeed. But still, I place my life over my money. It would hurt to lose the debt owed to me, but ‘tis a loss I can afford at the end of the day.”

I narrowed mine eyes. “Your guards could be of some assistance ‘gainst the werewolf.” The words caused a near imperceptible flicker of movement in the guardponies. Whether ‘twas born out of fear or a desire for blood and glory I could not say; warriors were often prone to wanting to prove their worth, but most were not fools who sought death, and the werewolf would be a dangerous foe. ‘Twas possible I might gain the assistance of a few more warriors to defend the castle, but that depended on what the duke thought of the matter.

“And the duty of my guards is to protect my house and its interests.” Duke Ferme stepped closer to me and his voice became very quiet. “So tell me, Magus, is it in the interest of my house to protect the Honeyfields?”

So that was the way of it: Duke Ferme wanted something in exchange for his assistance. More than a little bit of me was irritated by him playing such games during a crisis, but it did not really surprise me. Looking to their house’s interests first and foremost was all too common amongst the nobility. ‘Twas fed to them alongside the milk of their mother’s teats.

So that left me with the question of whether to strike a bargain with the duke. I could guess at least one thing he would desire: greater influence over Honeyfield. Mayhaps a guarantee that one of his house would marry the heir of House Honeyfield, for example. Indeed, considering the great debt Honeyfield owed him and the lack of a direct heir to pay it, one could argue that the county should go to his house in some manner. Either directly, or as the inheritance of his secondborn child. Another option was for me to personally give him a boon to call ‘pon later. As Corva had just reminded me, I was a pony of no small importance. His guards would be of immense help at this point in time, and their aid could mean the difference for all our lives. The issue was that I could not foresee what the duke might desire of me, but I suspected ‘twould not be to my liking. If I made a deal now, Duke Ferme would likely hold the debt over my head for a long time—and ‘twould be a heavy one, for he would be able to claim he saved my life. What could he not demand in repayment for such a boon?

I met the duke’s eyes. “Neigh, Duke Ferme. ‘Tis not within your interests.”

“A pity. I had hoped we could make some sort of arrangement.” The duke shrugged, then nodded to his guard. “Come on then, no sense dallying here.”

He started towards his carriage, but I called out to him. “I will remember this day well, Duke Ferme. Know that you could have offered your help as a friend, but instead you attempted to take advantage of me and House Honeyfield. Your character is now known to me, and ‘tis not something I will forget.”

The corner of Ferme’s mouth turned up into something resembling a smile. “And I know thee too, Magus. Thou couldst have made a powerful friend this day, and instead thou hast scorned me.”

“Some friends are not worth having.”

The duke frowned at me for a long moment. “Do try and survive the night. ‘Twould be a pity if thy new house’s future was extinguished due to a single misguided venture.”

“Aye, I would not seek to displease Mother by doing so,” I answered. “And living is far preferable for my constitution. Good night to you, Duke.”

Duke Ferme and his guards were soon away, likely not to return until the crisis was over. That unpleasant conversation past, I returned to my work of preparing for the night.

Stalwart flew down and landed near me, his eyes on the shrinking dots of the duke and his guards. “They did not cause you any trouble, milady?”

I shook my head. “Nothing I could not handle. He merely sought to make a deal with me while I was at a disadvantage, but his prices were too high. I would not give a conniving stallion such as himself a boon, nor sell Honeyfield’s future in the name of saving it.”

Stalwart’s eyes narrowed at the shrinking dots. “He has no honor or courage. He called himself Count High’s friend, but will not lift a hoof to aid his house in its time of need.”

“Because he is no friend of House Honeyfield,” I told him. “He took advantage of a weak count in High Stakes and sought to bring Honeyfield into his orbit, nothing more. He attempted to do the same to me, but I would not play his game.”

“And you are wise for doing so,” Émeraude said, suddenly appearing beside me and my bodyguard. I had not even heard her approach, much less saw her come out of the castle. “I never liked that one, and warned Stakes more times than I can remember not to trust him. He is a snake that slithers his way into your affair before it strangles you.”

“And he owns Honeyfield’s debt,” I reminded her. “An unfortunate thing when you neither like nor trust him.”

Something flashed behind Émeraude’s eyes and she flashed her teeth. “Indeed. ‘Tis my hope that you find some solution to that in your duties.”

“I might have some thoughts on how to deal with it,” I admitted. “Unlike some nobles, I have been taught the value of economics.”

Émeraude smiled. “That is good to hear, at least as long as whatever you are thinking benefits my family.”

“As you know, I take my duties most seriously.” I buried the last of my scrimshaw and turned to the fey. “And speaking of duties, I would know whether you will aid us in the defense of your family and castle.”

Her gaze turned away from mine and towards the ground. “Do you remember the story I told you about the conflict between Jasper, Azurite, and Ruby?”

“‘Twas told to me just last night, so I can hardly forget it.” I blinked slowly, remembering Émeraude’s fey-like ways of trying to convey information. “You are saying that you cannot directly interfere in a conflict ‘tween members of your family because of the Compact?” Could it be that she was telling me that the pony claiming to be her long-lost nephew actually was the real Roller? Mayhaps … or maybe she only wanted me to thinkthat for some other purpose, like tricking me into a bargain with her. This was the problem with fey: they were maddeningly difficult to understand.

Émeraude’s smile did not quite reach her eyes. “We all have our natures, Magus. Some are more constraining than others. Though...” Her pupils flashed and contracted to slits as her grin turned predatory. “I do have some room to move in. Especially if somepony were to make a bargain with me.”

Corva screamed unbidden in my head. “Do not make a deal with this one! She is like Duke Ferme—she seeks to take advantage of thee!”

“I know the dangers,” I answered, struggling to keep irritation from my tone. ‘Twas difficult enough to concentrate on Émeraude’s words without a competing voice in my head. Not to mention I did not want to look like I was carrying on a conversation with a third party when ‘twas but the two of us. That would make me seem mad when I most certainly was not.

“And what would the price be for your assistance?” I asked her. “And what assistance would you be giving?”

“It depends on what you want, and what you would offer,” Émeraude stated in a deliberately vague tone. “If it is within my power to give, we can form a bargain of equal exchange.”

I was in treacherous waters now. There were plenty of stories where somepony had overpaid for their desires. One stallion had said within earshot of a fey that he would die to have the mare of his dreams; he went on to marry the mare in question only to die when the room collapsed on him as soon as they had exchanged their vows. Naturally, I wished to avoid any bargain that would result in my whole body being turned into a red paste which leaked blood all over the floor.

Yet, that just highlighted the question of what I might be willing to bargain over. Émeraude had talked of my firstborn, naturally. Almost all fey loved the idea of having a young mind to mold to their desires. I could offer a boon to her, but giving an open favor to one such as she rarely ended well for the bargainer in question. Mayhaps I could do a quest for her, to be completed after I was done here in Honeyfield. In that event, I could get a clear idea of what was desired of me.

“Quests from the fey are rarely as simple as they appear on the surface,” Corva warned.

I stiffened. “I was not speaking to you.”

“Thou wert thinking out loud,” she explained. “As much as I mislike thy plan for the danger it puts thee in, I like the idea of bargaining with this creature even less. It is even more dangerous than the coming battle. Send her away and concentrate on the task before thee.”

I sighed and rubbed my throbbing head. Between the lack of sleep from the previous night, my journeys throughout this day, and that dreadful poison ivy, I was exhausted. Not ideal circumstances to make a dangerous deal with one such as Émeraude.

“Mine apologies, but I must turn down any bargain for the time being,” I informed her. “Now if you do not mind, I have more work to do to protect your home and your family.”

Émeraude sighed and her head drooped. “That is a pity. A great deal of trouble might have been avoided if an agreement could have been made. For what it is worth, I wish you the best. It may be hard for you to believe, but I do like you, and hope no harm comes to you.”

“I would like no harm to come to me as well,” I said. “No harm coming to me is in my best interest.”

Émeraude’s smile returned to her. “Then make sure to guard your life. You know your foe, even if not as well as you think. I will leave you to your task. May the night be kind to you.”

“Goodnight, Émeraude,” I said as she departed. I was not entirely sure what to make of the fey. ‘Twas possible she was merely trying to manipulate me, or mayhaps she was actually trying to aid me, if in her own odd way. Of course, ‘twas entirely possible she intended both.

Whatever the truth of the matter, I still had work to do. I yawned and concentrated on the circle I had set up earlier, enchanting it with an alarm spell. High Roller might have been able to avoid me when I sought him earlier, but he would not so easily be able to bypass this magical tripwire.

Stalwart looked at me as I did my work. “You look tired, Magus.”

I rubbed mine eyes, yet another reminder of my fatigue. “Between last night’s events and Émeraude’s request to speak with me in thine absence, I did not get much sleep.” It seemed best not to mention to my bodyguard that I had gone to the crypt alone with the fey. That was the type of thing that would upset him, for obvious reasons.

The sergeant's eyes narrowed. “Will you be ready to face the night?”

I yawned again and nodded, mine alarm now complete. “I will be fine. I will sleep as much as I need to once the werewolf has been defeated.”

Stalwart grunted. “If I may suggest something, milady, mayhaps you could retire to take a nap?”

“I am not so sure that is wise,” I said. “There is no telling when our quarry might arrive.”

“Aye, but...”

Stalwart trailed off as a raven descended in our direction. I lifted a leg and allowed the bird to perch upon it. Archduke Glittering Coin, Sixth of His Name, Lord Protector of Many and Varied Baubles of the Great Unkindness, and Assistant to the Wise and Powerful Midnight Sparkle bowed to me and spoke in the raventongue. “Raven Queen, everything is ready as you ordered. The wolf-pony will not come within sight of the castle before we spot him, that I swear on the part of all ravenkin.”

“Then thou hast pleased thy raven queen,” I answered in kind. “After this night is done and the beast struck down, ‘twill be a time of festivities.”

There was a sparkle within the black orbs of Glittering Coin. “And then there will be corn?”

I nodded. “How could I not reward those who serve me so well?”

A thunderous cry rose up from the Great Unkindness circling overhead. “Corn! Corn! Corn!”

Stalwart sighed and pulled off his helmet to run his hoof through his mane. “No matter how many times I experience that, ‘tis always unsettling.”

I raised an eyebrow in the sergeant’s direction. “Why so? They are just ravens who desire corn.”

He shook his head. “Nevermind me, milady.”

Since he asked me to pay him no mind, I returned mine attention to Glittering Coin. “Thou knowest my desires. As soon as the wolf-pony is seen, report to me immediately. I will deal with the monster myself.”

Glittering Coin bowed again. “Of course, Raven Queen! By your leave I do your work.” He flapped his wings and took off to rejoin the rest of the Unkindness. Between their presence and my magical alarms, it should be all but impossible for High Roller or the werewolf to approach the castle unnoticed.

That finished, I turned to face Stalwart. “Thou canst return to thy station, Sergeant.”

Stalwart did not immediately move. “I would feel better being at your side.”

“And I would feel better if thou took thy station and played thy part in my plan,” I informed him. The sergeant stiffened and did not heed my command. Mine orders probably went against the order Lady Shadow had given him to always stay at my side. Mayhaps a different approach would work with him. “Do not worry, the werewolf cannot sneak up on me in the gardens when I have placed so many wards, and thou wilt be able to spot the werewolf well before it reaches me. And thou wilt have our first surprise ready when our foe arrives, wilt thou not?”

Stalwart grunted. “That is true.” He picked up a spear with a silver-tipped head that had been propped up against the birdbath. The spear was not of a craftmareship that any artisan would take pride in, but time had necessitated expediency in the weapon’s construction. “I will do as you have commanded, but I will return to your side if the battle continues for too long.”

“That is fine,” I allowed. If that logic was what let the sergeant follow mine orders, so be it. “Is there anything else?”

He shook his head. “Neigh, milady. By your leave.” He spread his wings and took off for the sky, the clouds’ rumbles mixing with the caws of the ravens.

That left me to the final touches of my preparations. Returning to the birdbath and my runic scrimshaw, I activated its latent energies. The runes flared to life with blue fire, and an energy entered the air. Something felt sharper in the area, like I was running through the forest in the middle of the night during a hunt. The runes seemed to be working. They should draw the werewolf with its sanguine tastes to the garden, its primal instincts pulled by the scent of a plentiful hunting ground. I had made this particular scrimshaw to draw in predators into traps, though I had never had the opportunity to use it before. It should work in theory, but there was a big gap between theory and practice.

Thus, I waited.

I quickly remembered why I did not like waiting. I thanked whatever gods were out there that I was not born a common soldier, for spending hour upon hour on guard whilst nothing happened would have driven me to madness. The idea of pulling out a book to read came to mind, but that would not do; a book could easily distract me in a poor moment, and there was a good chance that the book would end up drenched in the lifeblood of mine enemy. I did not wish to ruin a perfectly serviceable book in such a manner.

A pity there was nopony to talk to. Rumble, Freezy, and the rest of the house guards were inside the castle, setting up their defenses in the feasting hall. Stalwart was in the clouds, and Subtle Song should be exactly where I wanted her to be. Thus, I was alone by mine own design.

I was so very, very bored.

I scratched where the blisters from the poison ivy flared up again. I pulled out Herbal Remedy’s ointment and slathered it on. That done, I was reminded about how bored and tired I was.

I sat down and waited as the sun sunk over the horizon. I closed mine eyes and...

“Magus!”

I returned to consciousness with a start, suddenly aware of somepony shaking my shoulder. Stalwart stood tall over me as I rubbed the blurriness from mine eyes, grimly staring towards castle. The ravens were cawing with great excitement and the clouds continued to rumble, arcs of electricity flashing in the night sky above us.

He shook me again, jolting me to full wakefulness. “Something is happening in the castle. We must go.”

Oh no, nonono, I had fallen asleep at the worst possible time. Damnation, I had been able to keep myself awake as long as I kept myself busy, but the moment I sat to rest...

Before I could finish chastising myself, a great howl echoed from the halls of the castle.

How? How had the werewolf gotten into the castle? A quick check of mine alarm circle showed that ‘twas not breached. It would surely have awoken me if it had been triggered, to say nothing of the swift response the Great Unkindness would have delivered if they saw the beast approaching. I had made mine orders clear to them, and Raven Queen or not, I would have found myself roused from slumber quickly enough with a swift peck or two from their beaks. My mind whirled as I tried to make sense of this breach.

A terrible realization struck me. High Roller would not have needed to breach my defenses if he had already been inside them. Had he not spoken of secret passages into the castle? Aye, I recalled I had even goaded him to tell me where to find them as proof of his identity. I had not considered that Roller might do something as bold as hide under our very noses after fleeing from Glazing. There were so many places he could have gone, but I had not considered the mind of the pony I sought. Honeyfield Castle was his home, his rightful seat, and there were invaders in it. What is more, he was desperate. If he did not slay his perceived enemies outright in a single night as a werewolf, we were likely to hunt him down and either capture or slay him the following morning.

I had been a fool. Was this the information Émeraude wanted to bargain for? Doubtless she knew of the secret passages, and probably even exactly where Roller had been. She might have been able to lead us right to him if I had bargained with her earlier, and we could have easily captured him before his transformation.

Another howl rang out in the night, this time joined by equine cries. Stalwart roughly shook my shoulder. “Magus, what should we do?”

I shot to my hooves. Now was a time of action, not of reflection. “Sergeant, return to thy station. I will pull the werewolf outside to do battle with it. Be ready for me.”

“But—”

“Do as I command!” I barked, turning towards the castle gate. “And remember to take the potion I gave thee!” I did not look back to see if he heeded my words, for I had set my full concentration on finding the werewolf.

‘Twas not difficult to locate our quarry. I found a dead guard not far into the castle, so much of this throat torn out that his head nearly parted. There was no time to lament the fallen, for more of the living would soon join them if this werewolf was not stopped. The blood trail was not difficult to follow, and it led me exactly where I expected it to. The sounds of battle rang down the stone hallways, guiding me to the feasting hall.

I arrived just in time to see the werewolf sink its teeth into the throat of another guard. Her scream was cut short as the werewolf broke her neck with a swift jerk of its head. I got my first good look at the lycanthrope as it stood before me, blood from its latest victim dripping from its jaws. The beast resembled a massive wolf with thick grey fur, one which stood taller and broad as Stalwart. It bared its wicked teeth, its yellow eyes flicking about the room for more prey.

The monster’s latest victim joined two other ponies in death, their bodies ravaged and cast aside by the rampaging beast. More pegasi guards fluttered about the ceiling, looking for a moment to strike, while a trio of earth pony and unicorn guards stood around Rumble on the opposite side of the hall.

“Get the bastard!” Rumble roared. He charged with the guardponies around him, silver spears levelled. With the hall’s tables and chairs pushed aside, they had plenty of room to make their advance unobstructed.

Rather than retreat or try and flank the ponies charging it, the beast charged right at the pony that stood between High Roller and the succession. Rumble stabbed with the skill of a longtime hunter and knight as they closed. The werewolf dodged at the last moment, a line of red streaking the speartip as it scraped along the back of the beast’s neck. In a single fluid movement, the werewolf brought its whirled its head around and snapped at the offending weapon, shattering its shaft and sending the speartip clattering to the floor.

Without so much as slowing, the werewolf ran right into Rumble and the guards, scattering them like bowling pins and continuing on right through the formation of charging ponies. The lycanthrope even had time to grab the rearmost guard’s hindleg in its jaw, breaking it with a savage jerk. The werewolf released the pony and continued forward, only to turn and pivot with preternatural speed and dexterity a heartbeat away from slamming into the far wall.

The monster was everything I feared and more. Its charge had left Rumble and the others at a disadvantage as they desperately tried to recover from being tossed about. Seeing the danger, Captain Freezy and a pair of her fellow pegasi guards dove from the ceiling to intercept the intruder. The werewolf zigged and zagged, making it difficult for the guardponies to get a proper bearing with so little time and space to work with in the hall.

One guard missed completely, having misjudged where the werewolf would turn. The second underestimated its speed and overshot, impotently stabbing as he passed and missing the target entirely. But the first two pegasi had hemmed in the werewolf, and Freezy was on target. She braced her spear for a strike, but the werewolf suddenly whirled about and leapt at the guard captain. The two of them collided in a clash of steel and flesh, and quickly fell to the ground in a tumbling mass.

They wrestled about the floor in a violent grapple for several frantic seconds. Then, the werewolf’s jaws closed on Freezy’s wing, crushing the hollow bones of her wing and bending in a direction nature never intended. It then pinned its prey to the ground, its bloodsoaked teeth descending on Freezy’s neck.

A solid block of ice spared Freezy from joining her companions in death. The werewolf jerked in surprise as it found its muzzle frozen open, stepping off the guard captain as it tried to register what happened. I then fired off another spell, this time sending half a dozen ice shards into the werewolf’s flank.

“BEAST!” I roared, augmenting my voice with a spell. “I SET A TRAP FOR THEE, AND THOU WILT DAMN WELL FALL INTO IT!”

The werewolf bit down and shattered its icy muzzle. Instead of paying attention to me it turned its gaze back to Rumble, who had re-armed himself with a spear borrowed from one of the wounded guards’ and stood guard over him. One of the pegasi took the opportunity to dive down and pull Freezy away. She screamed in pain as the momentum jostled her wing, but it at least took her out of danger. Denied easier prey, the werewolf charged the Honeyfield knight.

I made it regret ignoring me. A solid wall of ice rose between the werewolf and its intended prey right as it leapt for the knight. The sharp crack of skull on ice echoed through the hall as the beast hit the wall at full speed. Not content to leave it at that, I threw all the heat energy I had gathered whilst casting mine ice spells. A small orb of fire shot at the werewolf and burst like a fire gem on contact.

Rumble roared with laughter, protected from the fire by the icewall. “Burn, thou mangey mutt!”

My horn glowed as I prepared to cast more spells. I was not ready to bet my life on that last spell slaying the beast. Indeed, as the haze cleared I saw that the werewolf had not been struck down; it smoked, most of its fur having been charred away, and its body was covered in savage burns that would have killed or incapacitated any mortal creature. What was worse, I could see the burns regenerating at a truly impossible rate, the ugly wounds smoothing over with fresh skin and new grey hair growing over the vanishing scar tissue.

Aye, this battle was just beginning.

The werewolf slowly padded forward, seeking the edge of the ice wall so it could strike at Rumble once more. Either it did not understand the threat I posed or it did not care. Whatever the case, I was insulted, and ‘twas not an insult I would tolerate. The question was how to get the werewolf to shift its focus to me. If setting the beast on fire was not enough to convince it to attack me right away, then what would?

An idea struck me.

Once again, I unleashed the Royal Canterlot Voice. “WEREWOLF! I, MAGUS MIDNIGHT, DECLARE THEE, HIGH ROLLER, A MURDERER! AS ROYAL MAGUS I CONDEMN THEE, STRIP THEE OF THY TITLES AND INHERITANCE, AND DAMN THY NAME BEFORE ALL! THOU WILT NEVER INHERIT THE COUNTY OF HONEYFIELD WHILE I DRAW BREATH, SO LET IT BE KNOWN BEFORE PRINCESS AND COUNTRY!”

The werewolf snapped its head around and peeled back its lips in a snarl. Excellent, I now had the werewolf’s attention. The problem was that I now had the werewolf’s attention. ‘Twas a most vexing paradox.

Luckily, I had expected such a contingency and enacted my plan accordingly: I turned and ran away as quickly as I could.

A glance over my shoulder confirmed that the werewolf had given chase, its choler now risen. Much more distressingly, it was closing on me. I was not a fast runner even with the exhaustive training I had received from Stalwart, and the werewolf’s strides were long and strong. But this was no mere hoofrace between athletes, and I had no intention of being run down and slain.

My horn sparked, and a globe of darkness formed behind me. Within the darkness I coated the floor in ice. A moment later, I heard rather than saw the werewolf lose its footing and crash to the ground. It slid along the floor until it came barreling out of darkness globe and slammed into a suit of decorative armor along the wall. Unfortunately, it recovered far too quickly for my liking and was soon back on its paws and chasing me yet again.

Still, the maneuver had bought me a precious few seconds. I tried the same trick again, but this time the werewolf was prepared this time and dug in its claws into the ice to propel itself forward. I quickly changed tactics, casting the same combination of spells yet again as I continued running, only this time I placed a wall of icy spikes just beyond the darkness. Confident it had beaten my trick, the werewolf plowed forward, only to impale itself on the wall of spikes with a yelp. Not wanting it to be held up on the ice too long, I cast another fireball that set both the werewolf and the icewall ablaze.

This time the beast was slower in chasing me. It knew I was dangerous prey, dangerous enough to hurt it. Its caution bought me enough time to run back out the castle gate and into the gardens. A smile blossomed over my lips as we came to a battlefield of my choosing. I reached the center of the gardens and slid to a stop.

Even with its more cautious gait, the sheer speed of the monster caught me off guard, and I barely cast a barrier in time. The werewolf crashed into my shield with such violence that I was knocked from my hooves and bounced about inside it. The monster viciously clawed at my shield all the while, biting at the protective bubble to break it open and get at the pony inside.

I grit my teeth as I poured on more magic to keep the shield together as cracks and tears formed on its surface. The sanguine thirst of the lycanthrope formed an aura about it, filling me with a dread as it forced its jaws far too close to my head.

A great burst of light flashed in the sky, followed a heartbeat later by the crack of thunder. The werewolf convulsed as the full power of a lightning bolt coursed through its body. Seeing mine opportunity, I gathered mine energy and struck out. A powerful burst of icy wind slammed into the werewolf’s chest and sent it away from me. It flew through the air for a rather impressive period of time before slamming into the ground with bone-shattering force.

I took but a moment to glance up, and saw Stalwart abandon the lightning cloud he had just expended to move to a fresh one. Satisfied that his part of the plan was going as it should, I quickly rose to my hooves. There was no time to waste; if the momentum of battle turned against me even slightly, I would die. The werewolf had shown how it could easily tear ponies apart if it could bring its teeth and claws to bear. That was simply something I could not afford. My spells and wits had thus far spared me a gruesome end, and I was determined not to let the werewolf recover.

I thus pulled a potion and a ball of wax from my saddlebags, the items I had specially prepared at Herbal Remedy’s home. I was in such a rush to open the potion that I broke the top of the vial clean off instead of pulling out the cork as I had intended. I downed the honeylike potion and shivered as its magic spread through me.

The werewolf was also rising back to its feet, and I could see and hear its bones cracking back into place as it steadied itself. I decided not to give it any time to recover. Carefully aiming, I threw the wax ball straight at it. The werewolf shielded its head under a still-straightening leg and blocked the missile with its shoulder. The ball exploded into a fine red mist as the alchemical pepperbomb went to work. The werewolf immediately started hacking and whimpering as searing pain swept over its eyes, nose, and mouth. Even from a distance the magically augmented pepper made mine eyes water. For the werewolf, with its preternaturally enhanced senses, the experience must have been excruciating.

Shame for the werewolf that I spare no pity for it in my heart, not when it had caused so much unnecessary bloodshed. I was far from done with inflicting terrible pain to the murderous monster. Stalwart seemed to be of a similar mind, for he swiftly moved a second lightning cloud above our quarry and sent another lightning bolt shearing down upon the monster. Once more it convulsed as arcs of electricity ran through it, setting all its hair on ends. The werewolf fell to the ground, but I doubted that it was dead. There was only one thing that could kill such a monster for sure.

Still, Stalwart had bought me valuable seconds to proceed. I created a trio of ice shards and launched them one after another, each flying out and puncturing a different box that sat scattered about the garden—each on the home of its own apiary. An angry buzz rose up from the beehives as their instincts to protect their colonies kicked in.

I stood calmly as the bees swarmed around me, for Herbal Remedy’s potion made me feel like one of their number. The same was true for Stalwart, whom I was pleased to see had taken his own potion. That left but one target for the angry bees. The werewolf had barely gotten its bearings when it started yipping and howling as the bees swarmed it, unleashing hundreds of poisonous strings on the beast. The monster tried scraping the bees away from its face as they stung again and again at its eyes and nose, even resorting to rolling on the ground to try and get them off, but it was no use.

As I guessed it would, the werewolf returned to its feet and ran, faced with a foe it could not fight. Letting the monster flee to terrorize the countryside again was of course unacceptable, so I reached out and touched the magic of the scrimshaw bones I had buried in the garden earlier. A blue shield rose up from the ground to surround the battlefield. The werewolf once more slammed into a solid wall and desperately clawed at the barrier in an attempt to escape. It would eventually succeed given enough time, but I had no intentions of allowing the beast the necessary hours to try.

A dozen of mine ice darts joined the stinging bees, puncturing the werewolf’s back and making it howl. It turned to face me, its steps unsteady, the two of us now enclosed together. With flight now denied, fighting was its only option for survival.

Now that its sense of sight and smell were yet compromised, ‘twas time to attack the last sense it could readily use to find me. My horn glowed as I cast a concussive blast right over the werewolf’s head, and it whimpered as the earsplitting boom shattered its eardrums. Still, it remained on its paws. Thus I shot a violent gust of ice-cold wind at mine enemy. It smote the werewolf square on the chest and carried it until the werewolf struck the shield. It fell listlessly to the ground, involuntary convulsions running through its body.

It did not rise easily this time. As I had intended, the energies from the moonlight that powered its fell transformation were blocked by the thick clouds hanging over it. I pressed mine attack, creating a torrent of ice shards that rained down on the monster, letting up only after I felt my magic begin to wane. Scores of ice shards littered the ground and punctured the still lupine form.

My breath came in deep gasps and sweat soaked my coat. Bees continued to buzz about the garden, staying above the frost-covered grounds and plants around us. Mine attack was not as efficient as it could have been, so taken I had been by the frenzy of battle. Not using Mother’s technique for fire as well as ice here was deliberate on my part, for I did not wish to burn away the bees that harassed the werewolf, but I could have taken more care with the latter. Still, it seemed to have brought the beast down.

I swallowed with an all-too-dry throat and retrieved the silver spear I had placed near the center of the garden, not daring to take mine eyes off the werewolf. It was still moving, if only barely, and its whines echoed through the gardens. Unless it was doing a poor job of playing dead the werewolf was incapacitated. Though that brought forth the question of what to do now; I could attempt to capture the werewolf and wait for him to turn back into a pony, then either try and cure him of his affliction or simply keep him captive. But after thinking it over I rejected the idea. I doubted I had the means to safely keep the beast captive ‘til dawn, and this particular lycanthrope had proven particularly strong. It must have been powered by a potent curse. No natural-born lycanthrope, diseased individual, or controlled transformation could have produced the results I saw, not without some especially potent artifact or the aid of a very powerful being. After the carnage I witnessed in the dining hall, I could not bring myself to take the risk of letting this monster escape.

Stalwart landed besides me, glowering at the beast. “Are you well, Magus?”

I nodded. “I am fine. Let us finish this before the monster recovers.”

Stalwart’s brow furrowed and his grip tightened on his spear. “Do you wish the honors of the final blow, or shall I dispatch the beast for you?”

“Lead the way, Sergeant.” My horn lit as I prepared no less than half a dozen spells for use. “I have a shield ready to protect us in case the werewolf suddenly rises. Concentrate on smiting it.”

“Sounds good to me.” As we carefully approached the werewolf, I got a better look at the results of my plans to bring it down. A living blanket of bees crawled over the werewolf’s blood-matted fur, dozens of ice shards laid scattered about the area, those which had struck true emerging from its scarred flesh as the wounds slowly closed. Its breath came in shuddering gasps, likely a result of all the venom coursing through its system.

I cast another ice spell that froze the werewolf’s body in place, lest we risk it rising suddenly. I wasn’t confident the ice could actually hold it if it really wanted to escape, but ‘twould slow it down. For its part, the werewolf barely reacted. Stalwart hefted his spear to strike true at the werewolf’s heart.

“Halt!”

The command hit me like a physical force, and my body froze as the magic behind it turned my body rigid as a statue. ‘Twas only with an exertion of will and magic that I broke the spell and turned my head to the speaker. The air shimmered behind us there as a magical veil dissipated, revealing Émeraude Gracieux. She was not alone.

Half a dozen werewolves flanked Émeraude, and they spread out to form a semicircle around us, each of them growling and baring their teeth. The bees around us dissipated as though driven off by some aura. Émeraude and her pack stopped once they cornered us against the shield, leaving us nowhere to run that would not involve teeth and claws.

Stalwart stepped in front of me, his wing blades and spear at the ready. “Stay behind me, milady.”

I appreciated the sentiment, but I did not think standing behind my guard would do me much good if the werewolves attacked. It had taken a carefully prepared battlefield and the full measure of my power to defeat one of their number. Fighting six more all at once would likely only end with mine innards dangling from my ravaged belly like oddly colored snakes. As they had not attacked yet, there might be a way to talk our way out of this predicament; if not...

I stood tall and addressed the fey with what dignity I could muster. “Lady Émeraude Gracieux, ‘tis a pleasure to see you this night. Even if ‘tis something of a surprise.”

Émeraude smiled in return, though ‘twas a decidedly cold gesture. “Not too much of a surprise, I think.” She pointed to a nearby bush. “Considering your little spy was ready to put a cold iron crossbow bolt in me. You can have her come out now, by the way—I assure you, she is no threat to me.”

I could not help but grimace. It had occurred to me earlier that Émeraude might be a problem during the battle, and thus after I concluded my business at Remedy’s home I had ordered Subtle to sneak into the garden and be ready to counter the fey. It seemed that Émeraude had countered my counter. “How did you know?”

Émeraude chuckled, making me feel as though I were the source of some joke. “Because I know what sort of pony you are, Magus Midnight. Our talk in the crypt was quite illuminating on how you think. You are a devious and paranoid mare. Do not take those things as an insult, I quite approve of how you think, but it does lead to ... a bit of predictability, we will say. ‘Twas only natural you would see me as a potential threat and thus take precautions ‘gainst me.” She chuckled again. “‘Tis flattering, really. Still, if you could recall her...”

I glowered at the fey. Had she manipulated me from the start? I should have been more careful about what I said to her. Now my schemes had been for naught. “Come on out, Subtle, if thou art really compromised.”

The bushes moved as Subtle stood up. The spy was covered in all manner of foliage she had sewn into some kind of camouflage suit. On either side of her head were a pair of butterfly-winged fey no larger than a writing quill, each holding a blade to her throat. Subtle’s crossbow was untensed, its string likely having been cut earlier. It seemed that my spy had been found out and disabled as a threat early on, and all while under my nose. Though it probably had not been that difficult when I had fallen asleep at an inopportune moment. Damn mortal weaknesses.

“And set aside the crossbow,” Émeraude said. “I do not wish for thee to get ideas, like trying to stab me with the bolt.”

Subtle smiled in a manner that did not seem at all friendly. “Take away all my fun.” She tossed the crossbow away while one of the pixies cut the belt holding the bolt quiver, sending it tumbling to the ground. “And here I thought you were the type that liked getting poked now and again.”

Émeraude grinned. “I thought much the same of thee, but it seems thou art not as eager as I first imagined. Well, some of us do ... suffer anxiety, and we all know how that can affect a pony’s performance.”

“As can an uncomely partner.” Subtle turned her head so as to not face Émeraude. “And I hear the smell of wet dog is most uncomely.”

I raised an eyebrow as I looked between them. “What in the world are you two talking about? This make no sense in relation to what we are doing.”

Subtle’s sides heaves in a long, deep sigh. “Midnight, when or if we manage to survive this, we are having some more talks.”

“What about?”

Subtle slapped her face with a hoof. “What say we concentrate on survival for now?”

Émeraude nodded. “That is a highly relevant topic for you.”

One of the werewolves stepped forward and growled at me, serving as an ample reminder of the danger we were in. Still, I let none of the fear I felt reflect in my voice. “Very well. You did not attack us when you could have ambushed us. There must be a reason for that.”

“I hardly desire to kill you or your retinue.” Émeraude flashed me a smile that showed her teeth. “Surrender to me, and nopony dies.”

I tilted my head. “And place myself at your mercy? I can think of many ways for how that could end poorly.” I knew of many stories about ponies who had been captured by the fey and stolen away to their strange realm. Most of them were not pleasant.

“More poorly than how fighting me will end?” Émeraude shook her head. “It took all your strength to beat but one werewolf. You have used up much of your magic while we are still fresh. Let us be honest, you are beaten. You were as soon as I revealed myself.”

“And I say ‘tis not as simple as that.” I pointed my spear to the werewolf at my mercy. “If I guess correctly, you wish to save this one. If you attack I could deny you your prize.”

Émeraude’s brow furrowed into a glower and the werewolves all growled, taking a step forward. “Slay him and you will not survive the night, that I promise you.”

“No doubt.” I met the eyes of each of the werewolves, not removing the spear from their defeated kin’s throat. “But your victory would be a hollow one. What is more, if I am slain you can be assured that more magi and guardponies will come to Honeyfield looking for you.” I narrowed mine eyes as I stared the fey down. “I am sure you can imagine how my mother will react to my murder, and Her Highness to that of her royal agent. You will know no peace.”

“True.” Émeraude ran a hoof through her mane. “But I can always retreat to the plane of the fey. Even Princess Celestia will have trouble reaching me, and from there I can simply wait out the threat and return to the mortal realm at a time of my choosing. ‘Twould likely be when everypony that is a threat to me is long dead and I have become but a legend at most.”

She had a point there, but with logic I found a threat she could not ignore. “That is perhaps true, but what of your house?”

She became deathly still, and when she spoke again, ‘twas not in a voice that had the boundless confidence of before. “What do you speak of?”

“‘Tis quite simple,” I answered. “If my mother cannot strike at you directly, she will find other means by which to get her revenge. And she has the perfect means by which to do so: the succession of Honeyfield is in dispute. In such an event, Her Highness is well within her rights to absorb the county into her own royal demesne.”

Émeraude stepped forward, apoplectic. “She would not! The Compact...”

Now I had her attention. By threatening to take away the one thing she could not afford to lose, I had reversed the momentum of the conversation. “Do you wish to take the chance? My mother can be a very vindictive mare, and would argue against maintaining a house which enables creatures that butchers Equestria’s magi and guardponies. If I am slain, the argument for Her Highness to end House Honeyfield would be ... persuasive.” I blinked slowly. “Tell me, if the Compact were broken, would it strike you dead? Or mayhaps you would be reduced to a mere shell of what you are now? Perhaps you would merely fade away.”

Émeraude did not answer my question. “I am not going to give up so easily. Aye, ‘tis a profound risk to me, but where the Compact might be broke, you will be killed if it comes to battle. The promise of retaliation is a cold promise to a dead mare.”

“Indeed so.” I removed my spear from the werewolf’s throat. “That is why instead of surrendering, I propose a parley. Violence benefits neither of us, while negotiations might bear fruit.”

Émeraude stared at me for some time before finally nodding. “Very well, a parley then. But one that will only last an hour—I will not have you delay things ‘til daybreak and see mine advantage stolen from me.”

Unfortunate, ‘twas my hope that I could string out the debate until the dawn as a worst-case scenario. Mother had taught me plenty of delaying tactics for negotiations, but it seemed they would not be wise to use this night. “Agreed.”

“And you and your companions will drop all of your weapons.” Émeraude’s eyes flicked over me. “And you will remove everything from your person, for I know how magi can turn anything into a weapon. Nor will you cast any spell for the course of the parley.”

I frowned at this suggestion. “You would have me leave myself and my companions defenseless? That strikes me as a poor idea.”

“I cannot bring myself to break a parley. Ponies on the other hoof... Well, how many parleys have been broken by ponies in the past?” Émeraude shook her headhoof. “Very well; you may pick up your weapons at the end of the parley, but you will drop those weapons where you stand.”

I saw another problem with such a deal. One always had to be careful about deals with fey, and right now I was negotiating with our lives on the line. One misstep would undoubtedly prove fatal. “And what about your ... hounds? You cannot break a parley, but they are not fey.”

Émeraude sighed and rolled her eyes. “Very well, I promise that they will not attack you during the length of the parley. But one more thing: you will let me heal my nephew and make him comfortable. His suffering distresses me, and ‘tis not something I will tolerate.”

Ah, so that proved it conclusively: the werewolf was High Roller after all. “I cannot help but worry that you wish to heal Roller so that he might escape under his own power. He might even be allowed to slay more ponies, something I cannot allow.”

Émeraude grumbled something under her breath that I doubted was flattering. “Allow me to heal Roller and I swear that he will not be allowed to escape for the duration of the parley.”

Subtle snorted and shook her head. “So that you can add his strength to that of the other werewolves if it comes to a fight? That sounds like a stupid allowance.”

Émeraude narrowed her eyes at the bard. “My nephew’s strength would make little difference. The balance of power is already decisively in my favor, and one more werewolf will make little difference. But I will concede the point, and promise that he is not to be allowed to leave the garden ‘til the parley is over.”

‘Twas not hard to see the loophole in that proposal. “He will not be allowed to hurt anyone during the course of the parley, and you will do everything in your power to stop him from leaving the garden or hurting anyone else—even if that means slaying him. No half measures, he is to be stopped by whatever force you can bring to bear.”

I could all but hear Émeraude grind her teeth. “Deal.”

I nodded. “Deal.” A shiver ran up my spine that had nothing to do with the cooling night air. “Then let us negotiate.”

“First thing’s first,” Émeraude said. “Drop your weapons while I see to my nephew.”

I nodded to the others and dropped the silver spear. They dropped what remained of their weapons, and I removed my cloak, saddlebags, and silver dagger I had at my waist. Once all of that was on the ground I sat opposite of Émeraude, thinking how to respond. I needed time to think. I had but one hour to find a solution out of this. I did not wish to see High Roller get away from his crime and kill again, but I was at a sore disadvantage.

For her part, Émeraude stepped over to her nephew and knelt down beside him. She sighed and waved a hoof over him, shooing the bees away. “Oh my poor nephew, what has become of thee?” In an intricate example of spellcraft I could not have hoped to replicate, she melted away the ice holding her nephew in place, healed the worst of his wounds and, to my surprise, reverted him from his werewolf form. His features slowly returned to that of a pony, leaving a groaning High Roller lying on the ground.

Roller’s face was still swollen from so many bee stings, but his eyes fluttered open and he looked up at his aunt. “H-help me,” he rasped, reaching up with a hoof that Émeraude grasped.

“I am, my nephew.” She pecked his forehead. “Just give me a few minutes and everything will be fine.”

“B-but—”

“Shhh.” Émeraude stood up, leaving her nephew on the ground. “Leave this to me.” She walked over to a table and set of chairs that had survived the battle between me and the werewolf. The furniture was made entirely out of wood, but as seemed to be the case with all the furniture in the castle, there was no iron in its construction.

She sat down and smiled at me. “Shall we proceed?”

“I think so.” I sat opposite her, and the two of us stared at one another. Silence hung between us for a long time. ‘Twas a contest of wills to see who would break the silence first. Perhaps ‘twas not the wisest thing for me to delay negotiations with an hour long parley, but I needed to show I was not afraid either of Émeraude or the time limit.

In the end, ‘twas Émeraude who broke the silence. “Let us get to the point. I only desire that my nephew not be slain, and granted his freedom.”

I still needed time to think, so I asked a question to delay the decision on what should be done. “So you admit he is your nephew now? ‘Twould have saved a great deal of time if you had told me that when he first arrived at the castle. Ponies might still be alive right now.”

Émeraude shrugged. “If only I could have, but I could not while my family quarreled over the succession, and that information was too valuable to you for me to give it away for free in any event. But ‘tis irrelevant now that Roller has been defeated. He cannot be the count now, for you would not allow it, and you have proven the victor of your contest.”

“And now that he is at my mercy, you think I would free him to kill again?” I narrowed mine eyes. “I would be remiss in my duties to allow that when he has already slain multiple ponies.”

Émeraude shook her head. “Neigh, I would not suggest such a thing. Surrender him to my custody, and I swear to take him to the realm of the fey where he can join my hounds and bring no harm to any in the material plane. I promise he will not be allowed to return, and will be bound to that promise.”

“No!” Roller tried to push himself up onto his hooves, but he proved too weak to do so. “The county ... it belongs ... to me!”

Émeraude sighed and gave her nephew a forlorn look. “Thou undid thyself, Roller. I am sorry, but thou art unsuited to be the Count of Honeyfield.”

Roller glared at his aunt. “This is all your fault! You-you turned me into a monster!”

Émeraude crossed her legs over her chest. “I gave thee my blessing, Roller. ‘Twas up to thee to do with it as thou desired.”

“You... you tricked me!” Roller tried to push himself up again, but only collapsed in impotence. It seemed that while Émeraude had healed him, she had not left him in a state where he could do much. “This was not what I desired!”

Émeraude raised an eyebrow. “Was it not?” When she spoke ‘twas with a perfect imitation of Roller’s voice. “‘I want the power to take back what is mine—to be given the opportunity to seize my birthright.’” Émeraude’s voice returned to her own. “That is what you bargained for, Roller. Do you not remember?”

I looked between aunt and nephew, the pieces of the puzzle sliding into place and confirming what I had suspected. Roller had made a poorly worded bargain with his fey aunt, and she had granted his wish after a fashion. She had given him power, undoubtedly, but one he seemed unable to control. Then Émeraude gave him every opportunity to claim the title of count, even if his methods had ultimately undone them. “So that is the truth of it. You visited Roller at his room in the inn and made a bargain with him. What is more, he bargained poorly, and you gave him this curse.”

Émeraude’s eyes narrowed. “My blessing, thank you. ‘Tis Roller’s own fault if he poorly used the blessing I gave him. He could have controlled his transformation, but instead he let the red rage consume him. He launched a headlong attack that you defeated. All his misfortune is his own fault.”

“I did not know what you would do to me!” Roller slammed his hoof against the ground, groaning after doing so. “I did not wish for any of this to happen!”

“Is that why you decided to hide in the secret passages under the castle?” I asked. “Where you would transform and slay everypony in the castle? I find your motives suspect.”

That momentarily stunned Roller. “But ... I did not...”

I crossed my legs over my chest. “I would have given you the benefit of the doubt if you had surrendered to me after the night you murdered Shining Quest. I would have sought to cure you of this affliction—or blessing as your great aunt calls it—and considered you a victim of your aunt’s wiles. But instead you ran, and deliberately created a situation where ponies were slain by your rampage. As far as I am concerned, you are a murderer and should receive nothing but my contempt. You should hang for your crimes.” Not that I considered Émeraude innocent in all of this, but being too hostile towards her this nought could undo me.

Roller’s ears wilted to his head and he ceased his attempts to rise. “But...”

Émeraude tsked and shook her head. “As I said, thy misfortune is of thine own invention. If thou hadst shown patience and measured the character of the magus, thou wouldst have realized that she would not have stopped ere she had discovered the truth and made thee count. Instead, she will deny thee thy prize because of thine actions.”

“What?! No, she...” Roller’s gazed flipped back and forth between me and Émeraude. “She would not have granted me my title! She was conspiring with the others to deny me mine inheritance!”

“The only thing I conspired to do was to discover the truth and act accordingly,” I countered. “It is as your aunt says, if you were the rightful heir to Count High Stakes then you could have become the count. But your terrible crimes now supercede your rightful claim.”

“No, it cannot...” Roller slammed his hoof time and again against the ground. “No, no, nononono! Not after I came so far...” He broke down into sobs and curled up upon himself.

Émeraude turned to me and let out a heavy sigh. “You see what those slavers have done to my poor nephew? They have made him mean, spiteful, short-thinking, and unsuited to rule. And after all the work I did to help prepare him to be count someday.” She let out another long sigh. “Nothing to be done now except repair the damage as best I can.”

“Though I have to wonder what part you played in this, Émeraude.” She tilted her head at my words, and so I continued. “I cannot help but wonder if you sabotaged your nephew, whom you would have identified as unsuited to rule Honeyfield. ‘Tis clear he was distressed by the succession being in dispute, and after what he experienced in Freeport as a slave. This made him a prime target for your manipulations, and as we have seen, the bargain he struck cost him the very thing he desired in the end. What is more, the first night he attacked, he struck down Shining—a false claimant to be sure—but nopony else. In doing so, he both eliminated somepony who would pose a threat to the Compact and gave the rest of us time to prepare for the next night. There are plenty of spells I can think of that you might have used to cause the werewolf to flee the castle.”

Roller’s mouth worked wordlessly before he found his voice. “Aunt Émeraude, is this true?”

Émeraude leaned back in her chair and steepled her hooves. “That is certainly an interesting theory.”

“And you have attempted similar manipulations in the past, if the story you told me about Azurite is any indication.” Little surprise she hid the truth behind a veil of mystery, but I was relatively certain I was right. “So tell me, what did Roller trade for in his bargain? What did you receive in exchange for your ‘blessing’?”

Émeraude grinned widely. “Nothing. Yet.”

Mine eyes widened as I slowly turned to Roller. “You fool, did you honestly make a deal with a fey and not negotiate what you were to pay?” Of all the things one could do with the fey, one of the worst is to make a bargain without first settling one what one would give. To be in debt to one of the fair folk was to invite disaster, for they could demand anything of equal value to what they gave, and they could do so from their own queer judgement.

Roller’s ears flattened. “I did not think...” His shoulders hunched and his eyes turned to the ground.

“Neigh, you did not think.” I turned my attention back to Émeraude. “So what do you intend on taking from him? Surely you must have some plan.”

“That is part of what I wished discuss during the parley,” Émeraude said. “I intend to take Roller to mine estate in the realms of the fey, where he would join my pack.” She gestured to the gathered werewolves around us. “He will enjoy the liberation of running with his kin through a pristine forest under an aurora sky with a sanguine moon, where bountiful prey will be his to slay and feast upon.”

“But I do not wish for that!” Roller exclaimed.

“Then thou should not have bargained so poorly, my nephew,” Émeraude chided. “There was much thou couldst have asked for, and thou could have been more mindful of the price. But thou wert not. I do not wish to be harsh, but thou simply must face the truth of it.”

I examined the werewolves and remembered something she has said within the crypt. “So this is the form your ‘liberation’ takes? That of monsters who give into their beastial instinct with the rising of the full moon?”

“And how does it compare to the existences of so many ponies?” Émeraude demanded. “To endlessly toil in a mundane existence day after day, bound by duty ‘til their nasty, brutish, and short lives finally end? How many ponies are alive but do not live? What I give my pack is freedom from all of that—to truly live and do as they wish.”

“If it is so wonderful, then why should I allow you to abscond with this murderer?” I narrowed mine eyes at Roller at he lay pathetically near my discarded equipment. “He should face justice for his crimes, not reward.”

Émeraude chuckled as though to herself. “But you would be punishing him by giving him to me. Do you not see? When I collect my price, the Roller before you will be dead for all intents and purposes. His old identity would vanish, his goals in life quashed, and for the rest of his days the reality of his failure will press on him.”

“So you argue that ‘tis both blessing and curse?”

Émeraude shrugged her shoulders. “One could argue that ‘tis a matter of perspective. However you see it, I have the advantage, and I plan on taking my nephew as part of my price. ‘Twould be wise of you to accept that. Stand aside, and you and your companions will remain unharmed. Know that I hold no malice for you—you sought only to defend my home and family, and I can hardly seek redress for that. What more would you desire?”

What was I to do? Roller would be punished in a fashion, but would that be justice for the slain? What is more, would it be right to leave Roller to the fate he inflicted on himself? Aye, his aunt played a part in it, but she was a being without morals, or at least those known to pony standards. ‘Twas like dealing with fire: it could benefit or harm ponies, depending on its application.

I did not wish for me and my companions to die, either. That would be the most likely result of a battle, but if I did not fight, Roller would slip through my hooves. In that case he would both escape pony justice and subsist as nothing but a slobbering beast for who knows how long. ‘Twas a dubious situation, and one for which I had no true answer.

Roller looked between me and his aunt, a bewildered expression on his face. Mayhaps his mind had become rattled by all his experiences. He was certainly in a desperate situation.

Then an idea struck me.

“You make a persuasive case, Émeraude,” I said, shrugging. “‘Twould be foolish for me to risk more lives to try and stop you. When the parley is over ‘tis mine intention to take my silver weapons and equipment and withdraw, leaving you to take your nephew.”

Émeraude let out a relieved sigh. “‘Tis good to see that you see reason, Magus. I knew you would make the right choice.”

“Though I do wish to say one thing before I retire.” I leaned forward to meet Émeraude’s gaze. “I take umbrage with your ‘blessing’, for I think your freedom is but another form of slavery.”

Émeraude’s eyes narrowed. “You would consider my blessing to be a curse, for all the power and freedom it offers?”

I held my stare. “If I am denied control of my mind or body by another, then I declare it to be slavery. Furthermore, if I found myself in such a loathsome situation, I think I would take my silver dagger, remove it from its sheath, and then plunge it into my heart. For I would find death preferable to the fate you offer High Roller.”

Émeraude squared her jaw. “Then be glad that thou did not make such a bargain for—” Her eyes widened and she bolted up. “No!”

She had only gotten out of her chair when Roller plunged my silver dagger into his breast. He grunted in pain and went limp. Émeraude was immediately at his side, cradling him as blood flowed from his wound. Her horn glowed as healing magic flowed into Roller in a doomed attempt to save his life. Inherited silver was anathema to the lycanthrope, and the wound was a fatal one besides. But still, Émeraude tried. Roller was of her blood, her nephew, and he was hurt. What else could she do but try and save him, however forlorn the hope?

“No, no, no!” Tears streamed down Émeraude’s face as she poured more of her magic into Roller, even as he became less and less responsive. “Stay with me! Thou wert going to be fine, you fool! Why didst thou do something so foolish?!”

High Roller, son of Count High Stakes and heir to the County of Honeyfield, died in his many-times-great aunt’s embrace. I watched on as Émeraude tried to deny the truth and repair a wound that would not heal. Though Roller’s death was a product of my plans, it brought me no pleasure. I had convinced a pony to whom life had been nothing but cruel to kill himself. I knew that the last thing he would want to be was a slave again. After all he had gone through as a Freeport slave, death would surely have been preferable.

Mayhaps ‘twas justice, and mayhaps ‘twas saving him from a fate worse than mere death, but this was not the victory I desired. Strange I should feel pity for the aunt and nephew when but a little time ago I was determined to slay him myself. Mayhaps ‘twas because all the blood, suffering, and death was ... avoidable.

Émeraude’s sides heaved as she wept over her dead nephew. I considered walking away, but knew that would be unwise—for I knew what was to come.

“You!” Émeraude’s head snapped in my direction. “You did this to my nephew!” She gently laid Roller onto the ground and rose to her hooves. Her yellow eyes glowed in the darkness, her lips curled back to bare her teeth as they slowly sharpened and lengthened, her body twitching as it grew, and her features becoming more lupine by the second. When she spoke her voice came out as a guttural growl. “You are going to pay in blood for killing my nephew!”

The werewolves growled and closed on me and my companions. Subtle’s eyes flicked to her weapons, but the nearest of the lycanthropes would be on her before she brought them to bear. ‘Twas much the same for Stalwart, though he held stock still, probably guessing how it would end if it came to battle.

The critical moment had come, and I kept my body as still as possible. Any hint of fear would be the end of me, so I kept my tone steady as I addressed the fey. “Did I? I think you are mistaken. I have done nothing but follow the letter of our parley. Have I picked up any weapons? Neigh. Have I cast any spells or retrieved any of mine equipment? Of course not. All I have done since the beginning of this parley is sit here and negotiate with you. Nothing more, nothing less.” I blinked slowly. “If your nephew preferred death over fulfilling his half of the bargain and slew himself with a weapon you demanded I discard, then that is your own fault.”

To the fey, there is no spirit to an agreement—only the letter. They were most often the ones to creatively interpret the rules and the agreements they made, but that blade could cut both ways.

Émeraude blinked and stopped her advance. “But you, you...”

“Have done nothing,” I said in an even tone. “Correct me if I am wrong, but I have not broken the parley. Do you intend to?”

Émeraude hissed and flinched back as though struck by an iron poker. “You are ... correct. And I will ... not be breaking the parley.” Her features morphed back into something closer to that of a pony’s, and she held up a hoof for her pack to stop. She took several deep breaths as she glared at me. “Damn you, damn you to Tartarus for being right.”

Mine ears wilted, and I could no longer meet her gaze. “I am sorry for your loss.”

“Sorry? You are...” Émeraude’s shoulders twitched and she chuckled. “She is... How dare you be...” Her head rocked back as she laughed. ‘Twas no laugh born out of pleasure, but of madness and pain. She collapsed to the ground, clutching her sides as she laughed without restraint. Tears ran down her cheeks as her mad laugh rolled on and on. ‘Twas ... not what I expected, and I knew not what to do but sit there as she laughed.

Eventually the laughing stopped, and Émeraude pulled herself onto shaky hooves. “Damn you. You do not even have the decency of enjoying your victory over me.” She wiped tears from her eyes. “You killed my beloved nephew and y-you look at me with ... pity? What type of cruel creature are you, Midnight Sparkle? You give me hope one moment only to strike me down with despair the next. You do not look pleased with yourself, or like you have delivered justice. This was of your design, your intention, but you sulk in that chair like ‘twas you who was thwarted this night. I can understand the self-righteous paladin, the heartless magus, and merciless acts of the depraved. All of them act out of some passion or to achieve some aim. But not you. What are you, Magus?”

I considered the question before answering. “I am myself.”

Her sides heaved in a harsh chuckle. “Now I see the blood of your progenitors running in your veins. My, what a creature they created. I think I underestimated you now. It has been too long since I faced an opponent as worthy as yourself.”

I did not say anything. I knew not what to say. What could I say?

Émeraude walked over to her nephew’s corpse, her ears lying flat as she stared at his still body. “If you have no objections, I will take my nephew and retire. There ... is a place I have for the members of my family who cannot be buried with their kin in the crypt.”

I flicked my hoof for her to go. The whole experience had exhausted me, and I wished to be done with it. “You may retire as long as your pack withdraws with you.”

She nodded and placed Roller on her back. “Goodnight to you, Magus.” She and her pack disappeared from sight, leaving me and my companions alone in the garden.

I had slain my monster, but I did not feel the victor that night.

Author's Note

I'd like to thank my editors Chengar Qordath and Comma-Kazie, and my prereaders Trinary, Rodinga, Swiftest, Bronywriter, wolfstorm56, Stupidhand14, Alicorn Priest, and Poison Claw for all their help with putting this story together.

Chapter 7

I watched Captain Freezy Hail as she slept.

‘Twas the night after High Roller’s death, but while we no longer faced the immediate threat posed by the werewolf, I had other matters to resolve. The Honeyfield succession, for one, in addition to one other significant problem to address ere I could consider my work complete.

I myself was well-rested, having retired after mine own lengthy research. But as so often happened, I had found myself once again restless after dusk had fallen. I knew not why, but some nights I could not bring myself to sleep. ‘Twas as though my body were powered by some outside force. The poison ivy which plagued me did not help in the least, either. Thus, I sat on a cushion in the bedroom and waited in Freezy’s bedroom as she slumbered.

It seemed that she kept her own quarters despite her status as the late count’s lover, though whether ‘twas a matter of propriety as Freezy’s status as Captain of the Guard or some other reason was not agreed upon by the castle staff. Freezy was the type to keep her thoughts to herself from mine understanding. The other guards were even less helpful, for they would tell me little about their captain. Probably due to a sense of loyalty, or perhaps something a bit deeper. According to Herbal Remedy, many of the pegasi in the castle had formerly been bandits, and so it made sense that they would not be quick to speak of their shameful past.

Freezy yawned and turned in her bed. Her wing had been put into a cast, and her body was swathed in bandages and balms as it healed from the werewolf’s vicious attack.

For a moment it seemed that she had returned to the depths of sleep before her eyes snapped open and she jerked upright. “What are you doing in my bedroom!?”

“Watching thee sleep,” I said. “And now I am speaking with thee.”

“Get out!” Freezy jabbed a hoof towards the door.

I blinked slowly. I did not understand why ponies became so upset with me when I politely waited for them to wake up instead of rousing them in the middle of the night when I had pressing things to discuss. “Neigh, I have something important to speak with thee about.”

She glanced out the window to see the waning moon in the sky. “Can it not wait ‘til sunrise?”

“Technically, but I would prefer to take care of this immediately.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And what if I were to call ‘pon my fellow guards and have you removed from both my room and the castle?”

I shook my head. “‘Twould do little good, I think. I have placed a privacy spell ‘pon the room. Even if thou wert to leave the room and call for aid, I am still a royal magus on royal business. If I wish to see thee then I will. Unless they wish to be arrested for laying their hooves ‘pon a royal official, there is nothing they can do.”

Freezy squared her jaw. “You realize how little you set a pony’s mind at ease?”

I nodded. “I have been told that on multiple occasions, aye.” Not that I knew why. Everything I did was perfectly reasonable to me.

Freezy growled and turned her gaze from me. “Very well, out with it. What is so important to bother me in the middle of the night?”

“I have finished the rough draft of my proposal to Princess Celestia for how to deal with the succession dispute.” I levitated papers over to her. “I thought I would show it to thee before I told everypony else it's contents.”

“This better be worth waking me.” Freezy snatched the papers out of the air and rolled out of bed, hissing when her hooves hit the ground. She pushed aside the pain and activated a nearby light gem, bathing the room in a yellow glow as she started reading. ‘Twas not long before her eyes widened and her head snapped around. “What is the meaning of this?! I told you, my daughter is not to become the Countess of Honeyfield!”

Her anger affected me not at all. I had grown used to the mare’s general hostility, and so I let her anger flow past me. “So thou made clear. But still, I think this best for the county and thy daughter.”

“The best for my daughter?” Freezy quivered in rage. “Are you trying to kill her?!

It seemed I had made a wise decision in casting the privacy spell, or her yelling might very well have woken the entire castle. That would have been unfortunate for what I had planned. I kept my cool and addressed Freezy with as much detachment as I could manage.

“‘Tis hardly mine intention to kill a child,” I said. “I am attempting to give her the best future I can provide given the circumstances.”

“‘The best future’?” Freezy crushed my papers in her hooves. “Do you not remember the madness and carnage from last night?! One noble fighting another for some petty title in an all-consuming bloodbath. Is that the fate you would damn my precious Snowfall to?”

“‘Tis hardly that bad most of the time.” I stood up to face the guard captain. “Life is filled with conflict. The only question is whether you have a choice in its outcome. When Snowfall becomes the countess, she will at least be the master of her own destiny when she reaches her majority. She can choose to lead Honeyfield in the direction she desires, or she can abandon her title for another destiny. The choice will ultimately be hers.”

“And what until then?” Freezy stomped a hoof. “She is vulnerable. Everypony both within and without will plot ‘gainst her.”

I shook my head. “Not thee, I would hope. Did thy fellow guards spend every minute plotting ‘gainst thy count? I suspect Émeraude desires Snowfall to be the countess, and for all his flaws, I doubt Rumble would plot ‘gainst his niece. Aye, many of Honeyfield’s neighbors plot ‘gainst it, but that is true to some degree wherever you live. There is always a foreign enemy no matter who you are. What matters is how one protects oneself from them.”

“I care not, and this is what I think of your proposal.” Freezy crumpled the papers into a ball and threw it into my face. “Try to make my daughter the countess if you desire, but I will fight you. I will take this to the courts and even beseech your princess if I must. You may be a magus, but I am Snowfall’s mother, and I forbid this.”

I maintained my calmness in the face of her uncouth behavior. “A pity then that thou wilt not be given a choice in this matter.”

Freezy stomped her way over to me ‘til we were face to face. “Such arrogance. Of course I have a choice.”

“‘Tis not arrogance.” I shook my head. “‘Tis quite logical, in fact. Thou wilt not have a choice in the matter because I am placing thee under arrest for the murder of Count High Stakes.”

Freezy flinched back as though I had burned the flesh, muscle, and sinew from the bones in her arm. “W-what!? What slander is this!?”

“Not slander, I think.” I gave her a level stare. “The evidence quite clearly points to thee.”

“What evidence?” The guard captain trembled as she glared at me. “What possible evidence have you fabricated to accuse me with?”

I tilted my head, watching her reaction, the tenseness in her frame, the shaking, the way her pupils had shrunk. She was unhinged now, imbalanced by my words. Good. That would make the rest of this easier. A pony who had found her center was much harder to provoke into making mistakes. “How about we proceed in the following manner? I recount the events involving High Stakes’ murder, and if I make any mistakes thou wilt correct me.”

“Play your damnable game then,” Freezy growled. “I will enjoy picking apart your lies.”

“Very well.” I sat back down on the cushion and stared at the furious warrior. “To start with, I think it important to outline the motivations of the murdered and the murderer for this evil event. Thy disfavor of thy daughter’s inheritance is obvious to both of us, but what were her father’s thoughts in his waning days? He knew his death was inevitable, and so made preparations for the sad event, and made Snowfall his heir both to provide for his natural born daughter and only known surviving child, and maintain the Compact. Am I correct about this?”

“You have no proof of High’s thoughts,” Freezy sneered. “You base your accusation on nothing but an assumption? Pathetic.”

“Not on nothing,” I declared. “For one, ‘tis suspicious that High Stakes’ will had disappeared, especially when ‘twould have cleared up much about his intentions. What is more, all his writings from at least the last year have disappeared—as though they were purged. Stakes was no thorough recordkeeper from mine understanding, but for everything to disappear...”

“He was sick,” Freezy countered. “He did not have the energy to write.”

“But he had ponies to aid him, such as thyself,” I pointed out. “What is more, there is a curious piece of evidence missing from thine own accounts.”

Freezy raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Thy desires for thy daughter were clear: a stipend sufficient to give Snowfall a comfortable life. A reasonable enough request if she were not to become countess.” Mine eyes narrowed. “So tell me, Captain Freezy, why art thou unable to produce a single piece of writing from the count approving such a thing?”

Freezy blinked. “I ... did not think to ask.”

I shook my head. “That is a lie. For a mother so concerned about her daughter’s welfare, ‘twould have been grossly irresponsible for thee to not discuss thy daughter’s inheritance with her father as he lay dying. Thou art clearly suspicious of the nobility, and not without reason, so surely thou must have feared that some cousin of Stakes’ would swoop in and leave Snowfall empty-hooved. But thou cannot produce anything to approve thy daughter a stipend.”

Freezy was slow in responding. “We could not agree on what Snowfall would receive before he died.”

“Really?” My scepticism was plain upon my face. “What is a few thousand bits to a dying stallion who, by all accounts, loved his daughter? While I would accuse thee of murder, thou dost not strike me as greedy. Thou hast the spartan tastes of a Pegasopolian warrior, that much is clear from the sparse decor of thy quarters, so I severely doubt you two could not agree on a more-than-reasonable amount for a stipend. Neigh, the reason thou canst not produce documentation is because you could not agree on whether Snowfall should be countess.”

Freezy’s good wing twitched and she started pacing the room. “Nothing but conjecture. This means nothing.”

I cut her off with a gesture. “I am not done there. My guess is that you could not agree on what to do, and as he lay dying the late count said that he would make Snowfall his heir. All he would have to do is declare that in front of witnesses, as he no doubt did in his will, and then thy desires wouldst be undone. So that meant you had to act and quickly.”

“I did not murder him!” Freezy snapped. “High died of a weak heart. Everypony knows this.”

“Or so ‘tis said.” I stroked my cheek as I considered how best to lay out the evidence. “Thou shouldst know, I examined High Stakes’ corpse and discovered he had been poisoned. Of this I was sure, it seemed that Émeraude was onto thy scheme from the start and ensured his corpse was preserved well enough for somepony like me to properly examine it.”

“Poison?” Freezy snorted. “I am a warrior, I know nothing of poisons. If he was poisoned it must have been somepony else.”

“‘Tis not that hard to learn how to kill a pony with poison,” I countered. “Especially when there is a book within the castle study that lists a great many medicines and their use.” I narrowed mine eyes. “Including a powerful potion known as Sweet Dreams.”

Freezy jerked to a stop. “What is your point?”

“I am getting to that.” I looked out the window and into the night sky as I spoke. “I confirmed with Herbal Remedy that thou received doses of Sweet Dreams from her. In fact, thou explicitly requested the medicine from her to allow thee more peaceful slumber. This is curious for a couple of reasons. There are better medicines to aid a pony with shaken nerves sleep, and this potion has properties dangerous to those with weak hearts.”

Freezy grimaces as her good wing snapped out. “This proves nothing. I am no healer. How would I know any of this? I only requested Sweet Dreams because I heard from other ponies that ‘twould aid a good night’s rest, which I desperately needed.”

“As I said, there is a book in the study library that contains everything thou wouldst need to know,” I stated. “I have read it for myself. And I know thou art literate, or else thou couldst not have read the proposal I gave thee at the beginning of our meeting. What is more, the aura of Sweet Dreams matches that of the poison I detected in High Stakes. I know thou hadst plenty of opportunity to feed him the poison. He died when thou wert present and Remedy was away helping another mare with her foaling. ‘Twould have been a trifle for thee, his lover and guard captain, to take his food and drink from the servant giving him his nightly meal and lace it with the toxin. From there events would have taken their natural course.”

“Anypony could have given him a poison through his food or drink.” Freezy’s gaze shifted around wildly. “A malcontented servant, for example.”

I shook my head. “I checked with Remedy earlier today as I confirmed my theories for this crime. Nopony else in the castle has received Sweet Dreams in many fortnights. ‘Tis a medicine typically used for ponies in great pain. And another curiosity, despite the obvious pain thou art in, thou didst not request Sweet Dreams after being maimed by the werewolf. I have already examined thy rooms and found none of the Sweet Dreams in thy quarters, even in the trash. All the requested doses long gone.”

“None of this means anything!” Freezy stomped a hoof. “You have nothing!”

I blinked slowly. “I have a motive, I have the means, and I have the opportunity. That is plenty to arrest a pony for, and that is exactly what I intend to do.”

“And what if I do not intend on being arrested?” Her eyes flicked towards her spear, which was leaning on a rack my the wall.

“Mayhaps I am biased, but I would recommend ‘gainst resisting me or attempting to flee.” I looked at her broken wing. “For one, thou art badly injured. ‘Twould be unfortunate if thou wert to open thy stitches or otherwise worsen thine injuries, in addition to any other wounds thou might suffer.”

Freezy clenched her jaw. “‘Twill not be a long fight ‘tween us. Mayhaps you are a master of magic, but I am but a couple steps from you. More than close enough for my purposes.”

“I suggest thou rethinkest how a fight ‘tween us would go,” I cautioned. “Remember that ‘twas I who defeated the werewolf while the beast tore thee and thy fellow guardponies asunder. What's more, dost thou think I am so foolish as to risk myself by confronting thee all by myself and without timely aid? I would ask thee to consider the possibilities. Stalwart could be right outside the door, possibly with Rumble, who I am sure would love to avenge his murdered cousin. That is not even mentioning Émeraude, who could be in this very room under a veil without thy knowledge. How would she feel about her murdered nephew? Tell me, does the Compact prevent her from intervening if a guard captain attempts to murder a guest?”

Indeed, Sergeant Stalwart was indeed standing by my side at that moment, completely invisible by my magic. I could also feel Émeraude watching us on her own accord through the mirror with a scrying spell. But Freezy did not need to know that. Best she be paralyzed by doubt; as Corva had taught me, a pony could rationalize their way through what they knew, but there was nothing so frightful as the unknown.

Thus, I felt confident appearing alone. This had some benefits like the fact that we could have a more intimate conversation. There were things a pony was far more likely to talk about in a private conversation than in public. ‘Twas disarming to speak with a pony in such circumstances, and secrets were more likely to reach a pony’s lips.

Freezy took a step back and started pacing around me. “I can still run.”

“I do not doubt it, though how far thou wouldst get is another question.” I levitated out a lock of Freezy’s mane I had cut off while she had slept, and at the sight of her hair Freezy’s hoof instinctively shot to her head. “But thine injuries will slow thee, and I can follow thee anywhere with a tracking spell. Not to mention thy daughter will slow thee down as well, for I do not believe thou wouldst abandon her to save thyself.”

Freezy’s leg jerked forward to grab the lock of her mane from my magic, but stopped herself short. She just held her leg in that half-committed pose ‘til she finally lowered it. “Can you not let us go? We have done you no harm. All I wish is for my daughter to be safe, for her to grow up happy. High he ... he was already dying. His last act would put our child in untold peril. All I did was give him a quick and painless death. What harm have I done?”

I shook my head. “If a pony falls out a window but is shot by another pony with a crossbow and dies before hitting the ground, then ‘tis still murder. Aye, High Roller was dying, but ‘twas thee who slew him. Whatever thine intent thou must answer for that crime. I cannot ignore this, nor can I allow thee to flee with thy daughter.” I scoffed. “What wouldst thou do? A guard who murders her master will find no work. Wilt thou go back to banditry?” Freezy flinched at that. “And what life couldst thou provide Snowfall? Wilt thou teach her to be a bandit as well? Will she be forced to rob travelers and steal from farmers to survive until she meets her end at a guardpony’s blade or the end of a noose?”

“No! I... I... I...” Freezy slumped and sat on her bed, her head bowed. “Can you just not tell anypony? What is the harm in leaving me and my daughter in peace? We are not ne’er-do-wells, we are only ponies trying to make our way in the world. My daughter has already lost one parent—would you deny her the other?”

Mine ears wilted as she reminded me of the cruel necessities of my duty. “Separating a mother and daughter was not an idea I enjoy, but thine actions demand a response. If thou didst not wish to risk somepony separating thee from thy daughter, then thou should not have proceeded as thou didst.”

Freezy wrapped her forelegs around her body and her voice became a distant thing. “So that is it, is it? I am doomed? What am I to do? You know what they do to ponies who murder a noble. ‘Twill be the noose for me, and my daughter will be an orphan. I might as well take my spear now and fall ‘pon it so might at least die honorably.”

“I would not consider all hope lost.” I shrugged and scratched my leg where my poison ivy flared. “If thou wouldst admit thy crimes then ‘tis possible thou wilt be shown mercy, or perhaps some deal could be made to avoid a trial. Taking a pony to court always contains an element of risk, and thus ‘tis safer for a prosecutor to give a plea bargain to a defendant. And a sufficiently clever lawyer might free thee entirely. Much of the evidence I have presented is circumstantial, and a judge might not be impressed with it. Not to mention the judge thou receivest might be soft-hearted and determine thy crime is not so terrible as to merit a hanging.”

Freezy looked up at me, her mouth half opened as words failed to be said for a time. “I do not understand. You would destroy me with one hoof, but then offer me hope with the other? You insist that I should face justice, but then say justice might not even be done, or that the justice leveled will be soft? What is this?”

I frowned and turned my gaze back to the waning moon. “‘Tis the truth.” While I could not approve of her crime, I did not hate Freezy. As a wise mare once told me that an act done out of love could not be wholly evil, even if it might not be right.

Freezy’s gaze returned to the floor and silence descended over us. ‘Twas some time before the disgraced guard captain spoke. “I did love him, you know. High ... All I wished to be was an honorable warrior, as mine ancestors had always been. After the war I knew not what to do. The clans had been destroyed, and the pegasi cast to the winds. Those first few years after the war...” She buried her face in her hooves. “Coming to work for High was the first real bit of good fortune I experienced since Clan Doo was dissolved. He was ... kind to me. Sincerely kind. I...”

Freezy’s voice cracked as she tried to continue. “When Snowfall was born I was well and truly happy for the first time in far too long. If not for that damned weak heart of his...” A most pitiful whine escaped her throat. “What will you tell Snowfall? How could she not hate the mare who slew her father? How could my poor sweet daughter possibly understand what I have done?”

I sighed and shook my head. “I am not exactly sure what I will tell her. But ... I think it might be best if ‘twere her mother who explained it. I am perhaps not the best judge of such things, but in mine experience a child can forgive her mother of much at the end of the day. I can speak with her and prepare her for thy words. I cannot promise much, but ‘tis all I can think to do.”

To my surprise, the choleric and withdrawn mare before me broke down into unrestrained sobbing. She drifted to lie down on her bed and cried, bearing the pain and agony in her heart for me to see.

Captain Freezy Hail of the Honeyfield House Guard, murderer of her lover Count High Stakes, did not resist me as I arrested her.

A unit of the Royal Guard arrived the following day. They had responded to our call for reinforcements against the werewolf, but they served just as well taking Freezy into custody. They were now guarding her in the town jail, as I did not feel safe with Freezy in the castle dungeon. ‘Twas asking for trouble to leave her where the ponies she had led could easily reach and free her if they so desired. Neigh, better if there was some distance between her and the ponies she knew so intimately.

With Freezy safely in captivity, that left me to deal with the matter which had actually brought me to Honeyfield: the succession that had caused so much misery for so many people. ‘Twas something of a relief to finalize my plans and have everypony brought together in the parlor of the castle. This meeting was not as large as the first one I had, however unsurprising that might be with the absence of Shining Quest and Captain Freezy. That left the ponies I had called for this meeting, Sir Rumble Rapids, Duke Fierté Ferme of Blackwood, Émeraude Gracieuse, and Coin Count. It had not seemed possible after the first meeting I had with these ponies, but now they looked ‘pon each other with even more loathing and suspicion than before. Everyone except Émeraude, anyways. She was still smiling as she reclined on a couch as though nothing were amiss. Somehow, that made me even more worried.

I came to stand before the hearth as I addressed everyone, my notes floating before me for review if needed. “As all of you know, I have finished my proposal to Princess Celestia and wish to share them with you before I depart for Canterlot.” Something that could not happen too soon in mine opinion. Honeyfield had worn me down, and I desperately desired the services of a healing magus to cure me of this infernal poison ivy. Still, I had my duties to complete first.

Rumble grinned widely and rubbed his hooves together. “Get on with it already. Tell everypony that I am to be the new count so that we can get that straightened out.”

I shook my head. “Mine apologies, Sir Rumble, but you are not to become the next Count of Honeyfield.”

“What?” Rumble bolted to his hooves. “What madness do you speak?!”

“‘Tis not madness, but simple logic,” I told him. Though it did seem best to deal with who was going to be the next count. These ponies would be nothing but on edge until I did so. “Snowfall is High Stakes’ only surviving child, and thus should inherit his title and properties.”

“She is but a child!” Rumble objected.

“Indeed.” I turned to face the angered knight. “And that is why you will be serving as her regent. She will need somepony to act in her stead ‘til she reaches her majority, and her uncle strikes me as the best choice for this.” No doubt with Émeraude to act as an advisor for the more delicate parts of ruling, unless I missed my guess. From everything I had heard, the two of them had actually been ruling Honeyfield in place of the late count anyways. Best to just acknowledge the status quo and make it official until Snowfall was old enough to rule in her own name.

“But—”

“Sit down, nephew,” Émeraude interrupted, her voice firm. “‘Twill be a decade and more ere Snowfall will reach her majority, and even then she will depend on thine aid in running the county. Thou wilt have plenty of time to have thy fun and be count in all but name.”

I nodded. “And even when she reaches her majority, I will write a letter encouraging her to give her beloved uncle a generous stipend as thanks for his service as a loyal and capable steward for her county when she was unable to rule in her own name.”

Rumble growled as he sat back down and crossed his legs over his chest, but said nothing more. It seemed that he knew he was beaten, and hopefully it would not hurt when he would still receive much. Serving as a regent was hardly a bad position to find oneself in, especially when ‘twould be a long regency. That was assuming he did not take the opportunity to plot against his niece, in any event. Regencies were always difficult propositions because of that possibility, but all I could do was to make the best of the situation I had before me.

Duke Blackwood grinned as he looked at Rumble out of the corner of his eyes. “I am sure the regency will suit thee, my dear sir.”

“Stuff it,” Rumble groused.

I decided to step in before this meeting became an argument between the two prideful stallions. “Duke Ferme, I have also thought how best to address the debt Honeyfield owes you.”

“Oh?” The duke of Blackwood’s ears perked up. “I hope thou considered one of the options we spoke of earlier?”

“Aye, I considered them.” My smile and tone both turned to ice. “And did not find them suitable to allowing Honeyfield to prosper.”

Duke Ferme’s grimaced and turned away from me. “I hope thou art not going to do something so crude as to absolve Honeyfield of its debt merely because it has a new lord? ‘Twould be a shame if I would have to remind you of how important it is for the lords of Equestria to be able to collect on their debts.”

“Oh no, nothing so unfair to you, my lord,” I answered. “But I hardly think it fair to place such a terrible debt ‘pon the shoulders of a child countess. Thus I will propose to Her Highness that the Royal Bank should purchase the debt owed to you in its entirety, and then treat the debt as a loan to Honeyfield. Rather than whatever ... interest you would level ‘pon her and her county, the royal government will only require payments to cover a very reasonable interest rate ‘til such a time Honeyfield’s finances and economy has fully recovered.”

Duke Ferme’s brow furrowed into a fierce scowl. “Thou dost overstep thyself, Magus. This is well beyond thine authority to authorize.”

“But not that of our princess.” I tilted my head as I met the duke’s gaze. “She would be well within her rights to do such a thing, and as I have said, ‘tis my decision to make as her royally authorized representative.”

“And I will certainly protest this proposal in person before Her Highness,” Duke Ferme snarled. “This scheme of yours insults me.”

“That is of course your right, my lord.” (1) I thought it was rich he would accuse me of a financial scheme when he himself had schemed against Honeyfield. He had attempted to bribe me, threaten me, and used the crisis with the werewolf to try and gain leverage against me and the county. That was not something I would readily forgive or forget. The fact that my plan would cut this duke’s legs out from under him while strengthening the crown at the same time did not bother me at all. I certainly felt better with Her Highness being in control of the Honeyfield debt than the duke, who only wished to abuse that debt to force concessions from House of Honeyfield.

1. The duke would indeed go to the royal court to protest Midnight’s proposal, though perhaps unsurprisingly the meeting did not go as he would have liked. Grand Vizier Sunbeam Sparkle, always looking for opportunities to undercut the nobility, naturally sided with her daughter’s proposal, and Princess Celestia ended up giving Duke Ferme some advice on the finer points of generosity.

Rumble flashed a grin at the duke. “What is the matter? It not to your enjoyment to have the magus buck over your plans as well?”

Duke Ferme bristled, but did not dignify Rumble’s remark with a response.

The next to step forward was Coin Count. The merchant smiled as he addressed me. “Before we finished, I would like to thank the magus for avenging my friend. Her soul can now rest in peace with that monster slain.”

“I was merely doing my duty,” I said.

“A pity you could not accept the bounty I offered.” Coin shrugged. “Nothing for it, I suppose.”

“Under the circumstance I thought it might be a conflict of interest.” Especially considering I knew of the merchant’s endgame. While Shining had been trying to fool the county, I did not think the crime deserved her life. Pity I had no real proof for Coin’s misdeeds, but the death of his friend was probably punishment enough given the circumstances. That, and the other half of my plan. “Still, if thou wishest to put thy bits to good use, thou canst donate the bits to a charity. Mayhaps something Shining would have approved of.”

“That sounds like a fine idea.” Coin turned to face Rumble. “At that, it sounds like most everything is now sorted out. Sir Rumble, would you mind meeting with me once this gathering has been dispersed? There are a few business ventures I would like to run by you that might be quite beneficial to us both.”

“Bah!” Rumble leaned back in his chair and did not look at the merchant. “I do not want to have to go over every coin that passes through the county.”

“It is part of thy new duties, Rumble.” Émeraude smiled pleasantly. “I can of course assist thee in this unwelcome burden if thou wouldst prefer.”

Rumble grumbled something but did not answer her.

“There is but one matter of business I wish to discuss before I am done,” I continued. “Considering the crown will be investing a considerable amount of money in the county, I will be recommending that a royal agent, if not a full commission, look into what untapped potential there might be in the area to make it more prosperous, and thus able to pay back the crown sooner.” I looked directly at Coin. “Who knows? We might find some hidden gems within the county.”

With any luck, the royal officials sent should be able to find that hidden gem deposit and allow the Honeyfield’s to exploit it for itself instead of losing it to some greedy merchant consortium. Especially if I were to prod those officials in the right direction. That would do much to improve the county’s fortunes.

Coin stiffened and his eyes narrowed, skillfully concealing his choler. “Yes, that might be a possibility.”

I kept my face neutral. “Indeed, so I must put a hold on any of House Honeyfield’s major financial dealings before a royal decision can be made.”

“I ... see.” Several emotions flickered over Coin’s features, eventually ending with him pressing his lips together as he continued to glare at me.

It didn’t seem that Coin was willing to cede that he had been scheming. ‘Twas probably most intelligent on his part to say nothing and privately admit defeat. That would reduce his losses, admittedly, especially in comparison to getting into a conflict with me. “And at that I am done with mine announcements for all of you. I will meet with some of the servants and common ponies of the country later this evening. You may all go if you wish.”

Everypony shuffled out, Rumble making his way to the kitchens to no doubt secure a skin of wine from the cellar. Coin and Duke Ferme both made a point of giving me decidedly unfriendly looks and remained silent as we parted company. No surprise there.

“My my, you certainly know how to make an impression with ponies.” Émeraude grinned at the back of Duke Ferme as he walked through the doorway.

“I dare say that I have made no friends this day,” I agreed. “‘Twould be a surprise if anypony was sad to see me leave.”

“Oh, I would not know that.” Émeraude flashed me a smirk. “As they say, the mark of a good compromise is that it leaves nopony happy.”

“Does that count if it makes you several mortal enemies?” I wondered aloud. Duke Ferme would certainly seek to make me pay for removing his hooks from Honeyfield, and I doubted Coin Count’s business partners would be quick to forget how I had cost them what might end up being a fortune. Well, Mother has survived much of Equestria despising her to one degree or another, so I should be able to do the same with a hoofful of powerful individuals doing the same towards me.

Émeraude held a hoof to her mouth as she chuckled. “I think that means you negotiated a particularly balanced deal.”

I frowned as I considered the full implications of my decisions. “One that heavily favored a child countess for Honeyfield.”

Émeraude shrugged. “Trying to make everypony happy is a fool’s venture. ‘Tis best to concentrate on making the parties important to you happy, and damn the rest. While you have made some enemies today, I think the fact that others will see you as a fair mare who takes her duties seriously will outweigh that. At the end of the day, you should be able to survive Ferme and Coin’s displeasure. Going back home to a displeased princess or grand vizier would be a much trickier proposition.”

“That much is true...” Even if pleasing Mother and Her Highness had not been mine only concerns. “And what of Rumble? He did not seem pleased he did not become the count.”

“Hm, walk with me, Magus.” Émeraude wrapped her foreleg around mine and we headed towards the door, Stalwart dutifully following behind us. Perhaps she wished to take us away from prying ears, for she cast a privacy spell over us as we walked into the hallways. “I think Rumble will fume for a time, but his choler will abate. I plan on encouraging him to go on a hunting trip to let him cool off. Really, I think he will simultaneously curse and thank you in good time.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Why is that?”

Émeraude grinned and shook her head. “Rumble does not know what he wants. I will be surprised if he does not grow to hate most of his duties as regent, and will be thankful when he realizes he escaped the burdens and duties that come with a title. As I said, he is much happier being a knight than he would be as count.”

“Then Snowfall should be safe from any ... indiscretions, her uncle might make?” Indeed, my greatest fear was that he might do something to Snowfall in a bid to seize her inheritance.

“I would not worry too much,” Émeraude said. “Rumble is many things, but a kinslayer is not one of them. He loves his niece, and once he sees the wisdom of your decisions he will support Snowfall unwaveringly.”

We stopped for a moment at a window overlooking the gardens in the courtyards. “And unless I miss my guess, you are quite pleased yourself.”

Émeraude’s smile took on a sly edge. “And why ever would you say that?”

I scowled at her. She knew exactly why, even if she played coy with the facts. “Because I have given you one of the things a noble fey would most desire: a young mind to groom in the image they desire. And not just any mind either, but that of your great-niece and Countess-to-be. Not only that, but you can work without the counterbalancing influence of her mother or father.”

Émeraude ran a hoof through her mane. “Indeed, and I have great hopes for Snowfall. In truth, the blood of my family has been getting a bit thin as of late. The mixing of blood ‘tween my house and that of a pegasus warrior should reintroduce some badly needed steel.” She spared me a glance. “Though I was a bit surprised that you did so considering the events of the previous night. Most ponies would have taken all of that quite personally, not even getting into how they would have used my nature alone to argue ‘gainst me helping to raise the child.” She tsked as she shook her head. “As if I have no experience doing so.”

“I admit I was quite reluctant to do so for those very reasons.” I looked down at the garden and saw a small playground, and a little filly that I quickly identified to be Snowfall. She was rocking back and forth on a swing. Watching her made me wonder what all must have been going through her thoughts as I planned her future for her. “But I had to decide who would raise her when I set upon arresting her mother. Mayhaps I can take her to Canterlot and arrange for a caretaker, but that would be a difficult adjustment on top of everything else that has happened. I imagine she would like to stay with what is left of her family, and ‘tis my hope that you and Rumble will treat her well.”

“I assure you, she will want for nothing,” Émeraude readily answered. “This is her home, and we will give her the love and attention she deserves. The poor child has already lost too much. ‘Tis best she receives some stability for a time, and that can only come from her family and home. I assure you, I will mold her into a fine countess and pony. I have more experience at it than most.”

Whatever her faults, Émeraude still seemed to care deeply for her family, and she would not have desired Snowfall to become countess if she intended harm upon the child. The Compact did not allow her to make deals with the children of her family from mine understanding, which was at least one small assurance. Also, from what I had read from the family records she had helped raise a number of the children in the family, and done so competently. Even if those children had a way of being ... exemplary, one could say. ‘Twas far from a perfect solution, but ‘twas the best available to us.

“That is good to hear.” I turned to face her. “Though I do have to ask about the ... fallout from last night.”

The smile disappeared from Émeraude’s lips. “‘Twould be best to clear the air on what is going to happen.”

“I will get right to the point, then.” I inhaled and braced myself. “Will I have to fear for my life the moment I step out of your home? Will every night of the full moon be another of terror when the howl of wolves haunts me? For the rest of my days will I have to worry about the revenge of Émeraude for the death of her nephew?”

Émeraude met mine eyes with her own. “Will I have to fear the magi and Royal Guard for giving bargains to my family of their own free will?”

We held one another’s gazes for a long moment before I shook my head. “Neigh. While I would not call you a virtuous being, neither can I quite classify you a villain. What is more, killing you would destroy the Compact. If I did that then ‘twould destroy the prosperity of the ponies of this county and beyond, and ‘twould deny Snowfall of a powerful protector during a time when she is extremely vulnerable.”

Émeraude’s smile returned to her. “It seems you have met my high expectations once again, Magus. Far too many would have had a short-sighted view of the situation, and have hurt a great many ponies out of a ill-serving sense of justice.”

Admittedly, ‘twould have been easier to justify trying to destroy the fey. Easier, but not necessarily right. What is the point of destroying a monster when doing so would cause more harm than good to the ponies I was ostensibly trying to protect? Neigh, that was foolishness, and what is more, selfish. As a magus ‘twas not my duty to serve mine own self-righteousness, but that of the needs of the ponies of Equestria and my princess. Sometimes that meant doing things that did not sit well with me for the sake of the greater good.

“And you?” I pressed. “Once again I ask, will I have to fear Émeraude in turn?”

Émeraude shook her head. “I think not. While I am terribly wroth about the needless death of my nephew, I ... am taking it as a lesson for the future. Pride was my downfall that night. I have grown dangerously arrogant in recent years. For too long I have been a big fish in a small pond and thought nothing could best me. I should have had one of Roller’s kin sit on him, or taken some other measure to keep him from doing something foolish while I negotiated with you. Instead I created an opening that allowed him to kill himself during a moment of utter despair.”

“Having me drop the one weapon that could slay him right next to him was foolish,” I agreed. “But as Mother always taught me, one should take advantage of every opening an opponent creates. At the end of the day, I did not have to beat you and your werewolves, but merely deny you your prize without getting myself torn into bloody chunks.”

“Indeed.” Émeraude let out a long sigh. “Underestimating a dangerous opponent is not a mistake I will make anytime soon. Complacency has hurt my family in other ways too; I should not have let matters degrade as they have.” She scratched the top of her head. “I would not have allowed my house to be so taken advantage of as it has been in the old days. I did not wish to be too strict with my family in my desire to let them be who they wanted to be. That is something I will watch for in the future.”

Émeraude looked back out the window. “What is more, you did save Rumble’s life in the battle with the werewolf and kept Snowfall well away from danger, and sought to protect my home to no small danger to yourself. I think all things considered we can consider the scales balanced, neigh?”

The way she put it it sounded like the balance was in my favor, but on a whole I thought it best to clean the slate while ‘twas a good time for it. Many a mortal had tried to trade favors with the fey on and on, and like a gambler who kept playing when they were on a winning streak, came to a bad end. Neigh, best I prevent some sort of blood feud now while I could.

“I think that reasonable,” I said. “A conflict would benefit neither of us.” That was no small relief. ‘Twould not have been unlike many fey to continue the conflict out of spite. It probably helped that Émeraude’s survival depended on harmony with ponies.

“Those are my thoughts as well.” Émeraude squeezed my leg as she kept up her smile. “Not to mention I am quite pleased that you managed to discover my poor High Stakes’ murderer. I was worried I was going to have to scream it in your face to get you to figure out some evil had befallen my nephew.”

I turned my head from her, trying to find something else to focus my gaze on. “I suspected something ill might have occurred here after our first conversation. ‘Tis that I desired to find out more about Honeyfield and the ponies here before I did anything hasty.” I blinked slowly. “Such as make a deal with a fey with a tendency to turn ponies into werewolves.”

Émeraude rolled her eyes. “Do not judge something before you have tried it. I assure you, ‘tis quite the liberating experience. Especially for a pony who must always constrain herself such as yourself.” She leaned in to whisper conspiratorially. “I saw you when you unleashed your full fury upon Roller. The fear, the exhilaration, that sensation of standing on the precipice of disaster and yet smiting your foe down with your full might. In the face of death you never felt more alive. You were made to use power, to wield the power of life or death over others. It is your birthright.”

I did not know what to say to that. Was it true? If I was being honest with myself, part of me relished the idea of facing that werewolf when I prepared for battle with it. ‘Twas an opportunity for me to prove myself, and for me to show exactly what I could do. I had spent the months since Appleton training, educating, improving myself, and then I finally got my chance to put all that hard work to use—all in a righteous cause against a foul beast that needed to be smitten. And in the fury of battle I had enjoyed it. Aye, I had also been scared, for death was just one misstep away against something as dangerous as the lycanthrope, but that had only made my victory all the more intoxicating.

Then there had been my negotiations with Émeraude. I had dove into the precarious battle of wits, and no small part of me enjoyed that contest as well. It felt ... right somehow, in my very blood. I had helped destroy a stallion who had fallen to the machinations of his devious fey aunt, and it brought me pleasure. Aye, it had sickened me as well, but I could not deny the parts of me that liked defeating my foes and meting out justice to the guilty.

What did this say about me?

To my surprise, Émeraude wrapped a leg around my neck and drew me close. “As a fellow being born to a purpose, a fellow bastard, and one creature of power to another, embrace what you are. You cannot change your nature any more than I can. ‘Tis best to revel in it and be the best yourself you can be.”

Mine ear twitched. “Did you ever try and be someone that was not yourself?”

Émeraude’s eyes turned to the floor as her ears wilted slightly. “Once, long ago, and it only caused me and those around me great misery. You can change a great deal about yourself, you can learn, experience new things, learn new ideas, improve your skills, discipline, and a hundred other things. But you can never change what you are deep inside. All you can do is embrace it or live a lie.”

“I will ... take that under advisement.” ‘Twas certainly something to think over. Philosophy had never been a subject that particularly interested me, but there were applications to it. I could not help but think figuring out who and what I was would be important, especially when I did not know the answers to those questions.

Émeraude nodded. “Now with all that out of the way...” She leaned in all the closer to whisper into mine ear. “I see no reason we could not be friends—or even closer than friends. As I said, it has been a long time since I have been bested by any pony, and I find that...” Her eyes lingered over me. “Intriguing.”

I swallowed, Émeraude’s close proximity was ... very close. My knees shook slightly and my heart suddenly threatened to burst out of my chest. “Um, is that so?”

“That it is.” She grinned and her eyes shined. “My previous offers are still on the table, by the way. In addition to some pleasurable evenings, I could give you some help with your lack of heirs. The mixing of our bloods would be quite potent, I assure you, and no small thing to consider with a young house such as yours. Besides, I am sure you would make for a fine mother.”

I seized on the concept of dynastic politics, such was far more familiar ground to me than ... the other matters she was suggesting. “And I am sure you would not mind having a child of your blood be the heir of my house.”

“It would certainly not hurt.” Émeraude shrugged, keeping close to me, her tall form making me feel dwarfed in comparison. “And you deserve better than some inbred noble fool who has done nothing with his life. Neigh, you deserve someone that can give you the aid you need, and I can do that. I can teach you new magics, introduce you to powerful fey, and teach you things you have not dreamt of yet.”

I frowned. “For the right price.”

“Prices you can afford, and better than most.” Émeraude cupped my chin to raise my gaze so that we could look at one another. “Power does not come cheaply. The only question is what are you willing to pay to get it?”

“That much is true.” I withdrew from her touch and turned to face her. “But as you said the price for power is not cheap, and while I can probably pay your price, making a bargain with you is not something to do lightly. Especially when I do not know everything a deal with you will entail. So making a deal with you is something I am not ready to do right now.”

Émeraude continued to smile pleasantly. “That is not the same as you saying you will not consider making a deal with me.”

I frowned. “No, I suppose not. But there is no need to rush at this moment, if some sort of bargain can even be reached ‘tween us.”

Émeraude shrugged. “If that is your desire, I am fine with waiting and negotiating in the meantime. Though do not wait forever, you are the one far more pressed for time than myself.”

“I will keep that in mind,” I said. “But I will not be in Honeyfield for long. There is much I need to speak with Her Highness about.” I would have to prepare for Freezy’s trial, for one. Not to mention I wanted to get ahead of Duke Ferme and Coin Count, for both of them would no doubt move against my proposals. ‘Twould be best to meet with Princess Celestia first for a fait accompli before they could gather their friends and allies.

“I suspected that might be true.” She sighed and returned her attention to the playground below us. “Though I suspect you have one last duty to finish before you can leave Honeyfield.”

I nodded. “Aye, I shall see to it before I depart. I might need to return to Honeyfield to carry out Her Highness’ wishes, but I cannot say for certain what she will call on me to do.”

“A pity then,” Émeraude said. “But if nothing else, we should get to meet again at the upcoming archmagus conclave. ‘Twill be good to show Snowfall what they are like, and introduce her to some of the movers and shakers of Equestria. ‘Tis never too soon to meet the great and powerful.”

“That is true enough.” The Archmagus of the East March was going to retire soon, and his replacement would need to be voted on by a conclave. It was my plan to accompany Mother there and cast my vote for her preferred candidate, Daylight Shimmer. Though the opposition was making a strong effort to prevent that. It might be a very close conclave, which meant Mother was going to need mine assistance more than ever. “Though you plan on attending as well? I do not remember seeing you at any of the previous conclaves.”

Émeraude frowned and her happy tone disappeared. “High Stakes was never interested in the mages’ politics and intrigue, and thus I could not accompany him to them. A great pity, I greatly enjoy the conclaves. They are so fascinating to experience, and ‘tis so enthralling to match my wits against the mighty and wise magi of Equestria to benefit my family.”

“And to make more bargains, no doubt.” The conclaves were always highly political affairs. The competition to become an archmagus was almost always a difficult contest as factions from across Equestria vied to put the pony they desired into the post of archmagus, a position of considerable power and influence. ‘Twas not hard to imagine Émeraude prospered in such an environment.

Émeraude’s smile returned. “Many a magi has benefitted from mine aid, even if one of my blood has yet to ascend to the office of Archmagus.” Her eyes lingered over me. “But there is always hope for the future if a pony of sufficient talent were born within my family.”

‘Twas not difficult to discern Émeraude’s desires. “I will keep that in mind. But for now, I must really get going. If you do not mind...”

“Oh no, you are quite fine.” Émeraude waved for me to go. “‘Til we meet again.”

“Aye, ‘til the conclave, then.” I departed Émeraude’s company, not sure what I was going to do about this tricky fey that had taken an interest in me.

I headed down to the castle courtyard garden with Stalwart following beside me. We soon found ourselves standing before a little playground—one which looked relatively new, especially in comparison to much of the old and worn-down architecture of the castle. There sat the pony with whom I was duty-bound to speak.

Snowfall sat on one of the swings, slowly rocking back and forth as she stared at the ground. She seemed lonely as she minded herself. I wondered if she had any playmates. She must have, for the servants and guards likely had their own children at the castle. Or mayhaps her behavior ‘twas due to melancholy. That would make sense with her mother’s arrest and the death of her only brother. Both a result of mine actions... This was going to be a difficult discussion.

Still, ‘twas my duty to do my best to describe the situation to the filly, no matter how difficult a task that might be. Damnation, I think I felt less apprehension fighting the werewolf. But I still had my duty.

Not procrastinating, I addressed Stalwart. “I will speak with the child alone, Sergeant.”

“Are you sure, milady?” His gaze was fixed on Snowfall. “I could help you if you desire.”

I was sorely tempted to dump this task on the sergeant. He had far more experience dealing with children than myself, and ‘twas not as though I had any kind of special talent in this type of thing. But that would not be fair to my faithful bodyguard, and forever would I have to remember how I shirked my duties.

I shook my head. “Neigh, I should be fine. Just stand to the side if I need thee, and I will take care of this.”

“As you say.” Stalwart followed me as I walked up to Snowfall.

After staring at the child for longer than I probably should have, I finally summoned the will to address her. “Snowfall? I was hoping that we could speak.”

Snowfall’s ears wilted and she would not look up at me. “‘Kay.”

I sighed. This was going to be as difficult as I suspected. At least she had not fled from me like some children seemed to now and again, for whatever reason. I sat on the swing next to her as I continued speaking. “So hast thou heard that thou art the new Countess of Honeyfield?”

She nodded slightly. “Mhm.”

I should perhaps congratulate on her ascension, but that seemed like a poor thing to do considering the circumstances. “And hast thou heard of what happened to thy brother?” In the end I had decided to tell everypony that Roller had indeed been the werewolf we had sought and that he had been slain, even if I had not included every detail of the encounter.

Snowfall nodded, still not looking at me. “Mhm.”

“Didst thou know anything about him?”

She shook her head. “Father showed me a painting once and told me a little of him, but...” Her shoulders hunched.

Based on what I knew of the late count, he had not spoken much of his son after his disappearance due to the pain it caused him. ‘Twas a pity Snowfall would never get to know him. But justice needed to be done, and ‘twould have been cruel to leave Roller to a fate he did not desire. At least in the end he had gotten the choice to follow the fate he desired—even if those facts were of little comfort right now.

I was hardly the one to talk of her departed brother with her if she did not desire it, so I moved onto a more pressing topic. “And thou hast heard that thy mother has been arrested?”

Snowfall’s shoulders jerked. “Aye, but...” To my surprise, she leapt off of her swing and scurried over to me, pressing her forehooves against my chest and looking up at me with pleading eyes. “Please free her! Mother is a good pony! She would do nothing wrong!”

I was not ready for the sudden pressure on my chest, and the swing was not the most stable base to be sitting on. Soon I found myself flailing about my legs to try and regain my balance. Snowfall tried to get off of me, but in doing so she shoved off of me and sent me falling to the dirt. “Oof!”

“Sorry! Sorry!” Snowfall’s eyes widened as she circled around me, unsure what to do. “I did not mean to push you off!”

I groaned as I sat up, trying to keep the seat of the swing from smacking into my face. “‘Tis fine, child. ‘Twas an accident.”

Stalwart steeped next to me and offered me a hoof. “Let me help you up.”

“My thanks.” I took that hoof and got back to my hooves. I brushed at the dirt that now clung to my coat and cloak. Damnation, I had just gotten clean. ‘Twas like the universe found enjoyment in my suffering. “So then, where were we?”

Snowfall scraped a hoof along the ground and kept her gaze to the ground. “I was asking if you would please free my mother.”

I sighed and shook my head. “Mine apologies, but I cannot do so. There is evidence that she has committed a crime, and she must stand trial to determine her guilt or innocence.” And most likely, her punishment.

Snowfall looked up at me. “But why? What did she do?”

“She...” I saw Stalwart shake his head. We had discussed this subject earlier and he had insisted that I was not the pony to explain Freezy’s actions to Snowfall. I knew I did not enjoy it when ponies listed my mother’s many faults in front of me. “I will take thee to see thy mother here in a little bit, and she will explain what has occurred.” Part of me felt the coward for leaving this for Freezy to deal with, but at least this way she could give her daughter the answers she deserved. ‘Twas the best that could be done, probably.

“Oh.” Snowfall’s shoulders slumped and she sat back down on the swing. “Wh... what will happen to Mother?”

“It depends.” I sat back down on the swing. “‘Tis my plan to take her to Canterlot to stand trial. Considering the nature of the crime, Princess Celestia might very well judge the matter personally. How it will go will depend on several factors.” The murder of a count was certainly sensational enough to justify her attention to the case. Considering Freezy had committed the murder to disrupt the succession of a noble house, the nobility were liable to demand that Freezy be harshly punished in order to dissuade others from attempting the same. Not to mention the fact that Freezy, as the captain of the Honeyfield Guard, was an oathbreaker who had murdered her master.

I was reasonably certain the evidence against Freezy was damning enough to convict her, and other investigators were likely to be assigned the case to make sure there was nothing I missed. But I knew I had my mare, and if Her Highness presided over the case she would likely see it my way after I explained mine evidence to her. The only question was whether Princess Celestia would see the frightened mother who had erred terribly in order to protect her daughter or the oathbreaking manipulator who had attempted to bend the Honeyfield succession to her will with murder. I could not say for certain which way it would go. Her Highness was a kind-hearted pony, but she could level harsh judgements when necessary. After all, she had broken nations in order to protect the peace and stability of Equestria.

But what to say to a small child? I did not wish to cause her more distress than I already had, but I did not see a clear path to doing so.

The moment of hesitation on my part gave Snowfall the opportunity to ask a question. “Is there anything I can do for Mother?”

I considered the question carefully. “Listen to what she has to say, and if she desires it, thou canst come to Canterlot to support her.”

“But I am the Countess,” she protested. “Does that not mean anything?”

I shook my head. “Thou art still a child. ‘Twill be some time ere thou canst wield the power of thy house. And even if thou wert in thy majority, thine influence would be limited.”

“Oh.” Snowfall sniffed and returned her gaze to the dirt, gently rocking herself back and forth on the swing. “I-I...” She squinted her eyes shut as she fought back tears. “I want my mother and father!” She buried her face in her hooves and sobbed.

Mine ears wilted. So much undeserved misery had been brought into this child’s life. Knowing not what else to do, I drew her into a hug as she cried. “I know, child. I know.”

Author's Note

I'd like to thank my editors Chengar Qordath and Comma-Kazie, and my prereaders Trinary, Rodinga, Swiftest, Bronywriter, wolfstorm56, Stupidhand14, Alicorn Priest, and Poison Claw for all their help with putting this story together.

Chapter 8

The following takes place about a month after the previous section. Little of note happens after Midnight’s discussion with Snowfall, so I determined it would be best to skip ahead to future events.

Midnight writes nothing of what Snowfall and Freezy Hail said to one another, likely out of respect for their privacy, and the return trip to Canterlot was uneventful. After that, the Honeyfield succession isn’t mentioned again in Midnight’s journals until Freezy Hail’s trial.

I entered Princess Celestia’s private audience chamber shortly after receiving her summons. Where normally the floor was left open for ponies to stand, instead many seat-cushions had been set in neat rows for those gathered to listen to the proceedings. A pair of desks at the far end of the room faced the throne, which currently sat empty.

I was unsurprised to see a number of ponies from Honeyfield gathered in the chamber. Freezy Hail caught mine attention foremost as she sat at the accused’s table, her counsel seated beside her. Stripped of her arms and armor, the former house guard captain sat quietly with her head bowed. The experiences she had been subject to had taken a toll on her, for she seemed a very different pony from the proud and fiery mare I met in Honeyfield. Little surprise when she had slain her lover, dishonored herself, been stripped of her rank, and now helplessly awaited her sentence.

Still, she was not without supporters. Four of her fellow Honeyfield guardponies sat behind her in solidarity. Snowfall was not there, and I suspected that either her mother or other family members had decided not to include her in this sullen moment. Rumble squirmed in his seat while his Great Aunt Émeraude calmly sat beside him. Duke Fierté Ferme and Coin Count were there as well, each quietly talking to the other. The only ponies whose presence was unexpected was a small group of knights of the Order of Sol Invictus gathered nearby.

Curious. ‘Twas a small gathering in spite of the stir this case had created amongst the nobility. The only ponies here must have been directly invited by Her Highness, though why Princess Celestia would conduct things in such a manner was a question in and of itself. Perhaps she wished to address the more private affairs before publically declaring her rulings.

In any event, considering the sour looks I received from nearly everypony in the room upon entering, I decided it would be best if I sat by myself and pulled out a book to read. No one except perhaps Émeraude would desire my company after all that happened during my time at Honeyfield, so I saw little point in making myself or any of them uncomfortable. Part of me wondered if Mother would be proud of how I had managed to make so many enemies in such a short period of time or if she would lambast me for my behavior. ‘Twould likely be both.

I did not get far into my book before Princess Celestia entered the room. I and the other ponies rose in respect to our sovereign until she seated herself upon her throne.

Her Highness was grim as she addressed the court. “Freezy Hail, rise to face thy judgment.” Freezy dutifully did as she was instructed, her face carefully void of emotion. “For the foul and evil crime of murdering thy liege, whom thou wert sworn to protect, I must level a most stringent punishment. Freezy Hail, thou wilt spend the rest of thy days in atonement for thy crime. From this day until your last, thy life will be dedicated to charitable works under the supervision of the Order of Sol Invictus, to whom I entrust thy sentence.”

Interesting. Her Highness had decided to show mercy to the former house guard captain. There was precedent for it when the accused confessed their guilt, and while a life of atonement and charity would not be an easy one, ‘twas a kinder fate than the noose. She would still have her life, in addition to a purpose to that life, and I did not see the Order mistreating her.

I was somewhat ambivalent about the decision. She should be harshly punished for slaying the pony she had sworn to protect, but on the other hoof I could understand Freezy’s motives, even if she had gone about them in the incorrect manner. Really, the pony I felt the most pity towards was Snowfall. The poor child had just had her whole life thrown into heartbreak and chaos. The only good news was that her mother would live to see her grow old.

“Do you have anything to say, Freezy Hail?” Princess Celestia asked.

Freezy shook her head, her ears flat against her head and her eyes low. “I do not, Your Highness.”

Princess Celestia nodded. “Very well. Please be seated.” After Freezy complied, Her Highness turned her attention to the other ponies in the room. “Furthermore, I would like to address the Honeyfield succession. I realize this is somewhat unusual, but I think it prudent to settle the matter with everypony here.”

Ah, so that would explain the nature of our audience. I had been curious how Her Highness intended to resolve the issue, and when. I had of course offered mine own suggestions for a resolution, but she had not told me directly what she thought of them.

When nopony objected to the proposal, Princess Celestia continued. “First, I shall make Snowfall a ward of the Crown, since neither of her parents are in a condition to raise her. Furthermore, she should be raised by a proper family, and after making some inquiries, I had found a pair of fine ponies within the Order of Sol Invictus willing to adopt her.”

“Y-your Highness!” Freezy bolted to her hooves, earning a scowl from some of the nearby guards. “If my Snowfall is to be raised by the Order, can I please work near where she is to live?” She bit her lip. “I beg of you ... she is all I have, my reason to live. If no other comfort is to be given to me, at least give me the opportunity to see my daughter grow into a mare.”

Princess Celestia nodded. “Assuming thy good behavior, I will grant this request.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Freezy sniffed and rubbed her eye. “That is ... thank you.” She sat back down, no longer looking like the utterly defeated mare she had been but a couple minutes ago.

“Though I state that is not all,” the Princess said. “Snowfall will also be given a stipend as she deserves as the daughter of a count. She will also be made a squire under the tutelage of the Order and raised to be a knight of honor.”

Émeraude stood and she frowned at Her Highness. “She is to be a knight? So then is Snowfall not to be the Countess of Honeyfield?”

“Hah!” Rumble smirked at his aunt. “Told you I would become count. I am the only right pick, after all.”

Princess Celestia shook her head. “Neigh, I am afraid that neither Snowfall or Sir Rumble Rapids are to become count.”

Rumble’s head snapped in Her Highness’ direction. “What?!”

“Instead, I have decided that in light of recent events that the County of Honeyfield will be absorbed into the royal demesne,” Princess Celestia continued. “House Honeyfield will be disbanded and its estates seized by the crown.”

Émeraude quivered as she glared at the princess. “But the Compact—”

“Shall be renegotiated,” Princess Celestia interrupted. She frowned deeply as she met Émeraude’s furious glare. “I have determined that the affairs of Honeyfield have fallen to a state where they need to be repaired under royal supervision before I can return it to my subjects, and amongst those affairs I intend on addressing are the specifics of the Accord. I expect thee to remain in Canterlot until this business is settled.”

“You cannot just do this!” Émeraude stomped a hoof. “My house has served you for centuries! It was founded under your direction by my sire. My family is not extinct, and taking their titles and property from them has no justice!”

Princess Celestia’s face was a stony mask as she addressed Émeraude. “‘Tis well within my power given the circumstances. What is more, thou above all others shouldst know that mine actions are just. The surviving members of thy family will be accounted for. Rumble will become a royal knight, for one, and Snowfall has already been accounted for. ‘Tis my hope that I can negotiate with thee to make a new Compact which allows my subjects in Honeyfield remain happy and prosperous, but I will do what is ultimately in their best interests for their safety. Especially in light of recent events.”

Émeraude trembled in fury, but gradually sat down. “Very well Your Highness,” the fey spat.

Rumble crossed his legs over his chest and gave his aunt a sour glare. “A fine job you have done. I could have been a count if not for you.”

Émeraude let out a harsh huff. “Now is not the time, Rumble.”

For myself, I was discontent. I had thought I had come up with a suitable solution to maintain House Honeyfield, but Her Highness had discarded it wholsale. It might not have been perfect, but I thought ‘twould receive greater consideration. Especially when the current solution would take Snowfall away from her family and home, though she would at least be allowed time with her mother. Here I had made the best solution I could to satisfy the princess, but it seemed I had failed.

Duke Ferme was the next to speak. “And what of the debt that Honeyfield owes my house? That has still not been resolved.” His eyes momentarily shot my way.

Princess Celestia gave the duke a pleasant smile. “Thou should of course receive thy due compensation.”

Duke Ferme smiled back, though his smile was a far less pleasant thing. “That is good to hear. Though if the crown does not wish to part with so much of its coin due to this unexpected and undeserved debt, I would of course be willing to consider alternative measures by which it could be resolved.”

“Naturally.” Her Highness’ smile widened. “Though there is one little problem.”

Duke Ferme’s smile became a less confident thing. “And what problem would that be?”

The princess shook her head with an exaggerated sigh. “Alas, the late count’s financial records are not what I would declare as ... complete.” That was excessively generous to the horrible mess I discovered in Honeyfield. I had managed to get a rough estimate of the sum Count High Stakes owed the Duke of Blackwood, but ‘twas not what I would call a full account. “Considering the inaccurate nature of those records, I must seek alternative means to confirm how much is owed. I have thusly decided to have auditor Busy Body look into the matter, starting with the financial records of the Duchy of Blackwood.”

Duke Ferme’s smile broke like a window that had just had a rock thrown through it. “That is not necessary, Your Highness. I assure you, I have brought all the necessary records with me for your perusal.”

The duke’s sudden discomfort did not surprise me. Busy Body was an infamously rigorous auditor. (1) More than one pony had been destroyed when the auditor had discovered evidence of tax fraud or other illegal financial practices. Considering what Duke Ferme was willing to do to a pony he called his friend, I could well imagine what he might do to a stranger.

1. Busy Body was an agent of the royal treasury who was despised by many among the affluent in Equestria for his knack for uncovering illegal financial practices. Known for being intelligent, hardworking, and incorruptible, he was subject to several assassination attempts during his career.

“But I insist.” Her Highness’ smile became overly sweet. “I would not wish for thee to feel cheated of thy bits.”

“'Tis quite alright.” Duke Ferme squirmed in his seat. “In fact, I forgive the debt. Consider it a gift to the crown. I would not wish to be seen as minsterley, after all.”

Princess Celestia frowned slightly. “If thou art certain...”

“I am quite sure,” Duke Ferme insisted. “I seen no reason to worry over a few bits.”

I would have argued about this being over only a ‘few bits’. The sum owed by Honeyfield was substantial, but it seemed that Her Highness had successfully intimidated the duke into releasing the debt, and all without a single harsh word. I suspected Mother would wish to sic Busy Body on the Duke anyways—after the debt had been forgiven in writing first, of course. If the duke was willing to give up such a substantial sum of money, then there must have been something considerable he did not wish the crown to know about. Mayhaps Her Highness already knew something about Ferme’s misdeeds, and had thus felt confident about this ploy she had used. Now I felt somewhat foolish I had not come up with something so clever.

“'Tis thy decision, my good duke.” Princess Celestia turned her attention to Coin Count. “I believe thou also had business in Honeyfield?”

Coin stood and smiled as he addressed the princess, though the gesture did not reach his eyes. “That is correct. My business associates believe that there might be untapped business opportunities in the county worth investing in.”

“And thou and thine associates are free to do so. I welcome good investments into territories I oversee.” The princess let that hang in air for a moment before continuing. “Of course, any natural resources in the area will first need to be examined, and as thou probably knowest, 'tis my policy to have such resources be exploited by the highest bidder and whose proposals best please me.”

Coin’s smile became something more akin to a grimace. “Aye, I am aware, and I will pass that onto mine associates.”

It seemed that Her Highness would be no kinder than myself to Coin Count. At the very least, he and his business consortium would not be getting their gem mine without a rigorous bidding war. With Honeyfield to be part of the royal demesne, ‘twould only be a matter of time until the gem deposits were found by royal agents, and thus the scheme would be at an end.

“Thank you.” Celestia’s smile faded. “And my condolences for the loss of thy friend.”

“Aye.” Coin sighed and ran a hoof through his mane. “My thanks for that. Shining was ... a good friend.” His gaze briefly turned my way. “At least her murderer is dead. It brings little comfort, but ‘tis something.”

“All I can do is encourage thee to move forward with thy life,” the princess said. “Remember the happy times thou hadst with her, but continue forward nonetheless.”

Coin nodded slightly. “I will take that under advice.”

Princess Celestia rose her head to address all those gathered. “If there is nothing else to address, I would like to call an end to this trial. Are there any objections?” When nopony spoke, then princess stood and stepped away from her throne. The knights from the Order of Sol Invictus immediately took Freezy Hail into custody while everypony else made their way to the door. I started moving to do the same when Her Highness called out. “Magus Midnight, wouldst thou attend to me for a while?”

I stopped, apprehensively curious what she might want from me. “What is it you desire of me?”

The princess smiled in an unreadable manner. “Walk with me, if thou wouldst.” She led the way and cast a privacy spell about us. Whatever she wished to speak of, she did not wish for others to overhear us.

Once we were in the hallways, I decided to ask a question. “Are you displeased with me, Your Highness?”

She looked at me out of the corner of her eye. “Should I be?”

“I do not think so.” The disquiet in my heart grew as I thought over the details of the princess’ announcements. “Yet you rejected nearly all my proposals for dealing with the Honeyfield succession. I cannot help but think you are displeased if that is the case.”

“I am hardly displeased with thee,” Princess Celestia said. “‘Tis merely that I saw a better means to set things right in Honeyfield.”

I grimaced. “So you are saying that my proposals were insufficient? Strange, I had thought they were designed to please you.”

We entered the main throne room of the palace, though ‘twas largely empty except for the odd guard or servant carrying out their duties. “I think it might be best if I were to explain my reasoning. Was my sentence for Freezy displeasing to thee?”

I shook my head. “Neigh, I can see the logic in thy mercy. Freezy murdered her liege and that needed to be harshly punished, but I do not think her an unrepentant ne’er-do-well, but a scared mother who let her fear control her.”

“Those were mine own thoughts as well.” The corners of her mouths turned up into a smirk. “Though I suspect thy mother will lambast me for being merciful again.”

“Mother is not one for mercy unless it can be turned into some sort of advantage.” She was certainly capable of mercy. After all, she had argued for giving clemency to any rebel that laid down their arms at the end of the Lunar Rebellion, though that was merely to expedite their surrender. Harshly punishing every individual pegasus for the sins of their leaders would only have provoked them to fight to the death.

“Indeed so,” Her Highness agreed. “But just because the two of us disagree now and again does not mean I do not value her advice.”

I narrowed mine eyes. “Is this some sort of talk about how even if you do not always agree with my proposals you still value my counsel?”

Princess Celestia’s smirk widened. “Something like that.”

I sighed. “Some days I wonder if I will ever stop being lectured to.”

Her Highness shook her head. “Just because thou art no longer an apprentice does not mean that thy lessons have ended. Thou hast moved from learning from books and lectures, aye, but now experience is thy teacher.” She stopped before the pane glass window of her and her sister’s discovery of the Elements of Harmony. “Understand, I hardly expected perfection with thy first assignment. I have been doing this for many generations, so ‘tis hardly fair for me to expect thee to come up with a solution to the succession on par with mine own, and that is not even getting into how we are both to have our own opinions of the matter.”

“They why send me at all?” I felt my frustration grow. It was feeling like I was doomed to failure no matter what I did now. “Either mine opinions would differ from your own, or mine inexperience would make mine efforts insufficient. What use was there to me trying in such circumstances?”

“A great deal, actually.” She turned her gaze to the stained glass windows. “For one, ‘tis always valuable to get a second opinion. As the Princess of Equestria, ‘tis far too easy for me to become lost in an echo chamber.”

“I suppose that is a good point,” I allowed.

“Second, I only have so much time in the day,” she continued. “It would have taken me days to fly out to Honeyfield and then interview everypony to determine who should succeed, and even then I fear I would rush the task so that I could return to the many other things that require mine attention. That is not even getting into all the issues of changing my schedule to allow me time to go to Honeyfield, the trouble of creating a royal procession, how I and my retinue’s arrival at Honeyfield would have disrupted the lives of the ponies living there, and a hundred other issues. Sometimes such things are necessary, but in this case I think ‘twas not.”

I sighed and nodded. “Those are also good points. ‘Twould not have been efficient for thee to go to Honeyfield given the circumstances.”

Princess Celestia turned to face me. “And thou didst a fine job. Thou gathered the information I desired so that I could make an informed decision. While my decisions differed from thy recommendations, thy work was nonetheless instrumental.”

“That is ... good to hear.” I felt my cheeks flush. Even when I was displeased with Her Highness, her compliments were quite charming.

The princess smiled and placed a hoof on my shoulder. “Thou also stopped a werewolf from ravaging the countryside and uncovered Count High Stakes’ murderer. Either one of those things would have been above and beyond what I had called for, and I daresay ‘twould have been beyond the ability many of my servants would have been able to accomplish. Do not for a moment think I am displeased with thee, especially when this was intended to be a simple refresher task.”

I took a deep breath and nodded. “I will keep that in mind.” I was feeling a bit better now, though I still had questions. “So why did you decide not to have Snowfall raised by her uncle and great-aunt?”

Princess Celestia’s face creased into a small frown and she started walking further down the throneroom. “‘Tis a for a few reasons. Foremost, after interviewing Sir Rumble Rapids, I determined he would likely forever be more of an uncle to Snowfall than a father to her.”

I tilted my head as I followed Her Highness. “Of course he will always be more of an uncle than a father to her. He is her uncle and not her father, unless a great many ponies had been lying to me about Snowfall’s heritage.”

The princess chuckled and shook her head. “Thou dost not grasp my meaning. Snowfall needs parents who will raise her as their own, and give her the love, care, and discipline she needs to grow into a fine pony. Rumble is ... loving, in his own way, but he is far more the fun-loving uncle than a stern parent that a child needs to create structure in their life. To be a parent is to be equal parts teacher, disciplinarian, and guardian. Rumble lacks the qualities Snowfall will need in her life, and I do not see him growing into the role as most parents do when they find themselves with a child in their lives.”

“Qualities you think these ponies you are entrusting Snowfall have?”

Princess Celestia nodded. “They already have two children of their own, and I have every confidence they will do a fine job including Snowfall into their family.”

“And what of Émeraude?” I blinked slowly. “She also has experience raising children, and she is of Snowfall’s blood.”

Her Highness stopped before another stained glass window, this one depicting the Liberation of Manehattan, with the Royal Sisters leading an army of three pony nations to face the gryphon defenders. “Because I do not trust that fey. I suspect she has been behind far too many family tragedies in her desire to keep her house strong.” Her hoof lightly touched the picture of her sister, bedecked in her black arms and armor as she led the charge. “Family should never fight one another, and someone who provokes such conflicts in the name of making their house stronger is cursed in spirit, for they will find no true happiness in their actions. All they will have is power if they are the victor, but they will not have their family to love.”

“But what if power is what is needed to make others happy?” I questioned. “A leader who is powerless or pony who is beholden to a family member ill-suited can lead their house to yet more tragedies. What’s more, the common pony could suffer terribly under poor leadership.”

Princess Celestia smiled sadly. “The necessity of such an action will bring joy to nopony—trust me on that. ‘Tis not a choice I would wish on anypony.” She withdrew her hoof from the glass. “And I would condemn anyone who would intentionally provoke such conflicts. Émeraude has played her family members against one another, and what’s more, she threatened thee while thou conducted thy duties. That is not the type of thing I can tolerate lightly, and I intend on bringing her to heel by renegotiating the Honeyfield Compact. No more turning ponies into werewolves, threatening mine agents, or inviting conflicts amongst family.”

I thought back to Émeraude’s story about Azurite and his siblings. His actions had resulted in the death of his siblings, and based on what Émeraude had told me, had found little joy in becoming count. Neigh, in addition to the weight of his office, he had chained himself to the guilt of slaying his brother, and took a series of actions that resulted in the unnecessary death of his little sister. Even Émeraude had been unhappy with how events had transpired, and she had probably manipulated her family into conflict in the first place. Who knew how many family tragedies were of her design. Yet she kept doing it over and over again—her latest victim being her nephew High Roller—for she was a being without free will. She could do little else but what her nature demanded of her, even if it eventually led to the destruction of her house.

“I understand where you stand now.” Mine ears wilted and mine eyes fell to the floor. “I feel somewhat foolish now, but I knew not how to defeat her without it resulting in a bloodbath as magi and guardponies battled werewolves and fey under a full moon in a preventable conflict as each slaughtered one another at behest of their masters in an orgy of violence.”

The princess shook her head. “A battle with Émeraude would be a daunting conflict for nearly anypony. I cannot incriminate thee for seeking compromise and trying to maintain the prosperity of the county, even if that peace would be imperfect. Hence why I am taking on this burden myself: she has less to threaten me with, and she knows I am more than capable of destroying her if I must.”

“I still feel the fool.” I scraped a hoof along the floor. “I wish to be a great magus someday, though this is not the story of a great magus, but of a pony playing at being great.”

Princess Celestia shook her head. “Thou art too hard on thyself.” She sat on her throne and pointed to the grand vizier’s chair next to her. After a moment’s hesitation, I complied and sat in my mother’s chair. It felt strange to sit where Mother conducted public business from, even if this was an informal meeting. Yet did not Mother intend for me to sit here someday? I had even fantasized about doing so, but ‘twas a queer sensation now that I was here.

Once I had settled into the chair, Her Highness continued speaking in her maternal tone. “Thou art a new magus, Midnight, and already I have been asking difficult tasks of thee—more difficult than even I suspected. Mistakes are bound to happen. Even with all mine experience, I still err.” Her eyes drifted to the stained glass window that depicted the Lunar Rebellion and Shadow’s victory over the Avatar. “Overall, thou didst quite well considering what thou wert up against, as I have already said, and thou gave me everything I needed to make a proper judgment for the Honeyfield succession.”

I slumped in the chair. I knew Her Highness was trying to make me feel better, but a powerful melancholy had already fallen over me. “As you say, Your Highness.”

A small frown spread across the princess’ lips. “So my magus, how often does thy mother speak of her discontent with my decisions?”

I was wary to admit the truth, but even moreso about lying to the Princess. “Often.”

She nodded. “Quite often, I daresay. I can hardly think of a month where we have not disagreed on some course of action, especially when pragmatism confronts idealism. Wouldst thou consider thy mother to be a poor official because she disagrees with my decisions so often?”

“Neigh, of course not,” I was quick to say. “‘Tis the duty of an advisor to give her opinion to her sovereign, even if she might disagree with it.”

Princess Celestia smiled impishly. “And so should it not be with thyself as well?”

I frowned, having been captured in the logic trap constructed for me. “Aye, I have no counter to thine argument.” I was beginning to appreciate Mother’s times of frustration with the princess. Being lectured to could be irritating, especially when one was made to feel foolish.

“While I appreciate it when my servants hold themselves to a higher standard, I do not wish for them to do so to a level where ‘tis a detriment to themselves,” Her Highness informed me. “I have high hopes for thee, and I will have need of thee in the coming days.”

I tilted my head. “Me?”

“Of course.” To my surprise, Princess Celestia wrapped a wing around me. “Thou hast great potential. Already it has shone through in Appleton and Honeyfield.” She smiled as she squeezed me with her wing. “I know thou hast the ability to become a great archmagus someday, and ‘twill bring me great joy to see thee ascend to those heights.”

I blinked. That was not something I really expected Her Highness to say. Both I and my mother desired to see me succeed her as an archmagus, but royal approval was beyond mine expectations. “You really think so? ‘Tis my desire to become an archmagus someday, though that goal seems a very long ways away.”

“Most worthwhile goals can seem that way, but ‘tis a goal within thy reach.” The princess’ brow furrowed. “Though there are two pieces of advice I would give thee.”

Considering Her Highness would have to approve mine appointment, it seemed wise to accept whatever wisdom she might have to offer. “I would be happy to hear your words.”

“The first is to keep thy mind open and flexible,” Princess Celestia said. “Thou art an intelligent and gifted young mare, so ‘twould be prudent to use all of that to thine advantage. I am confident thou couldst have come up with similar ideas if thou hast allowed thy mind to do so. Do not let others constrain thy thoughts, or think that just because things have always been done one way they should always be done so. Always be ready to change the dynamics of the situation facing thee.”

I considered her words carefully. “I think I understand what you say. For example, if we find parts of the Compact with Émeraude undesirable, then we should seek to change them if possible. By thinking I had to deal with the Compact as it stood, I had limited mine options.”

Her Highness nodded. “Just so. Whenever thou dost find thyself in undesirable circumstances, seek a method by which to change turn. Do not work within the constraints thine opponents give thee—break through or around them in a way they had not considered. By giving thyself more options thou dost give thyself more power to act. Never forget this.”

“I will contemplate this wisdom in the future.” It gave me something to think about. Far too often I had felt constrained in one manner or another. Mayhaps the answer to my quandaries was to rethink them and approach them from a different direction. “What was the other point you wished to make, if I may ask?”

“This one is more warning than wisdom.” Her Highness looked to the window of the Royal Sisters’ defeat of King Sombra. “Be careful in thy pursuit of power, for that path is a treacherous one, and many a pony has fallen to evil by taking the wrong turn to their destination. I see great potential in thee, but potential cuts two ways. The more capable the pony, the more good or evil they contain within themselves.” She nodded at the depiction of Sombra. “King Sombra was one of the most gifted unicorns I had ever seen. Had he used his abilities for good, his reputation would have rivaled that of Starswirl the Bearded. But instead of using his powers for the benefit of ponykind he chose to enslave everypony around him with his power and become a most terrible tyrant. Now the crystal ponies are but a memory, their great nation lost to history, and the world more empty for it.”

I frowned. “I hardly have any intention of becoming a great and terrible ruler who uses her magic to dominate the whole of Equestria through insidious mind control magics, where the totality of all my citizens’ lives are nothing but a miserable state of soulless toil, where even death is no release as their bodies are treated as nothing but future undead masses intended to continue an endless cycle of tyranny and oppression, as the foulest magics are now a fact of life, and make the nations of the world tremble at the mention of my name. Such would be evil.”

Princess Celestia sighed and shook her head. “I know thou wouldst not seek such a path. But that is the insidiousness of it: even a righteous pony can fall under the right circumstances.” She pointed to her sister’s image in the glass. “My sister was once one of Equestria’s greatest defenders. Monsters, demons, and foreign invaders all fell before her, and she helped me bring justice and harmony to the land.”

She hugged me closer with her wing. “But then jealousy drove her to madness, and I did not see the danger for what it was ‘till ‘twas too late. Her madness drove her to attack me and threaten all of Equestria, and I was forced to banish her to the moon. My one true partner in life is now imprisoned, and now I must forever fear what she will do to the ponies that I spend my life protecting.” Her Highness pulled aside the locks of my mane so that she could examine my face. “If she is willing to harm a child for the sake of her mad ambitions, what is she not capable of?”

I could not continue matching the princess’ gaze and turned mine eyes to the floor. The memories of the closing days of the Siege of Canterlot were not pleasant ones. “That is something to keep in mind. If a pony such as your sister could fall—a hero for all of Equestria for so many centuries—then it can only serve as a warning to the rest of us.”

“That is not the legacy I would wish for Luna, but aye.” Princess Celestia let out a long sigh. “Just be mindful of the dangers of thy path thou followst, dear Midnight. ‘Tis the way of the magi to seek power and knowledge, and both contain their own dangers. All that separates the magus and the warlock are the magics they use and what they are willing to do to achieve their goals.”

I nodded. “I will keep that in mind, Your Highness.” These were warnings I had heard from other magi in the past. Often the most terrible of warlocks were former magi who had fallen to evil. Hidden Facts had been an archmagus before he revealed his true loyalties and created the Avatar of Nightmare Moon.

The true question was, why did Her Highness speak of this with me personally? Was she suspecting mine intentions, or mayhaps of the path I was on?

“Good, then.” Princess Celestia stood and smiled down at me. “But enough of such morose discussions. If thou hast the time, I would like it if thou couldst join me for lunch and some cake. It has been too long since just the two of us sat down to talk, and I am curious to know of thine exploits.”

“That sounds fine by me.” I could hardly reject such an invitation from the princess unless I had pressing business, which I did not. Mother would certainly scold me if I did not take this opportunity to get in Her Highness’ good graces.

“Excellent.” The princess wrapped a wing around me and led me towards the royal garden. “I did wish to know if anypony has caught thine eye as of late?” A mischievous smile slowly spread on her lips. “Romantically?”

I failed to suppress a groan. It seemed Her Highness intended to use me for her midday entertainment. The things I did for my princess...

Author's Note

I'd like to thank my editors Chengar Qordath and Comma-Kazie, and my prereaders Trinary, Rodinga, Swiftest, Bronywriter, wolfstorm56, Stupidhand14, Alicorn Priest, and Poison Claw for all their help with putting this story together.

Chapter 1

The following selection comes from Midnight Sparkle’s journals from House Sparkle’s private collection. While Midnight published many of her more famous adventures in her memoirs, her personal writings are peppered with other exploits and assignments she took part in. These right here are her writings for the events that occurred around the succession crisis for the title of Count of Honeyfield.

I have decided to bring this particular story to the attention of my readers to show Midnight’s growth as a magus since the incident in Appleton. All available records say that Midnight spent much of her time after her confrontation with the Hags of Appleton honing her skills, in addition to several small assignments for her mother and Princess Celestia and taking part in a particularly memorable Snowball War at the Kicker Clanhold. However, this incident was Midnight’s return to being a proper field magus, and one tempered by her experiences at Appleton.

The summons from Princess Celestia reached me at midday, and while I had been busy working on an enchantment project for Mother I could hardly reject my princess’ call to see me. I thus headed to the palace to find Her Highness. The royal guards were awaiting me at the palace entrance, and they readily escorted me to my destination.

I caught up with Princess Celestia as she was leaving one of the meeting rooms of the palace. As was only proper, I waited while everypony left and Her Highness made her final parting words to her advisors. Once the others were gone, I approached Princess Celestia and bowed before her. “Your Highness, you summoned me?”

She smiled radiantly at me and motioned for me to rise. “Hello, Midnight. Walk with me. There is something I would discuss with thee.”

“As you wish.” I rose and followed her out to the palace gardens.

After the long winter, the spring brought a garden determined to make up for lost time with its vibrancy. Luxurious flowers and other plants surrounded us, many of them exotic rarities. Through hedgerow and shrubbery, ‘twas not long before we emerged where she kept the garden’s other decorations. I was always curious how many of the statues were merely statues and how many were her defeated foes—enemies forever trapped in stone and unable to act as their existence dragged on through the centuries as the elements slowly beat down upon them and madness slowly gripped them in their inability to interact with the world. Sadly, Her Highness’ answers were customarily cryptic to my inquiries. The habit made me wonder if her cooks had to decode enigmatic phrases just to determine what to make for her breakfast.

I stepped well clear of Discord’s statue. He had even spoken to me once when I had been wandering the palace gardens, and it was mildly disturbing to hear that I was one of his favorite ponies. (1) I could only pray he was only playing one of his games, and asked Princess Celestia to tighten whatever wards she had over the demigod.

1. I’ve spoken with Discord, and he confirmed to me that Midnight was indeed one of his favorite ponies. In his words, “Chaos and trouble followed her around like a lost puppy. What’s not to like?”

Eventually, I stopped before a statue of some fey noble wielding an elaborate bow and turned to Her Highness. “What was it that you wished to speak with me about?”

“How fare thy studies?” Princess Celestia asked as we walked past several statues.

“They have been going very well,” I informed her. “I have made several breakthroughs lately.” Mother, Morning Star, and Corva had been especially helpful in that regard. With the aid of such skilled teachers and my new drive to make myself a better magus, I had found that my spellcraft had become all the better over the last few months. I was admittedly quite proud of myself, even if I was not as skilled as I desired. My practice duels with Mother showed my limits too readily, and Corva regularly pointed out where I was ignorant. They were humbling experiences, even if I learned much.

“I am pleased to hear it.” The Princess smiled and then turned her attention to the fey statue. ‘Twas a female of striking beauty and grace that shone through even stone. It seemed almost, alive, and as though ready to loose the arrow from its bow. “Though I hope thou canst spare a while away from thy books and mother?”

I nodded. “But of course. As always, I am at your disposal.”

“It has been a while since thou embarked upon a proper magus mission,” Her Highness pointed out. “This one should be much less exciting than the last one.”

“That would be best,” I stated. “Nearly being slain by hags, put into their cauldron, and having my flesh gnawed from my bones by their crooked teeth was not something I enjoyed.”

“And certainly not anything I wanted to have happen to thee.” The princess started walking again, pausing before each statue ere continuing onward.

“‘Tis good to hear you desire my continued existence.”

“Naturally.” Princess Celestia smiled indulgently for me. “Besides, thy mother was quite upset with me. She was most wroth when she learned of the extent of thine injuries, and I hardly wish to endure that again.”

I frowned as I considered this. “Mayhap that is why I have not seen many serious assignments since Appleton.” Mother could be quite protective of me. She has burned the flesh from the bones of a number of ponies who had threatened me in the past. Not that I needed my mother to always protect me. I was a full magus now, and could take care of myself.

“It was certainly a consideration.” I noted some discontent in her words, but she cleared her throat and seemed to will it away. “Fortunately, she approved of this mission, so she will have naught but herself to bother if it goes awry.”

“That is ... good,” I hazarded.

The Princess stopped to fully face me. “On that topic: art thou familiar with the County of Honeyfield?”

I stroked my cheek as I recalled what I could. “‘Tis a county a little to the north of Canterlot, if I remember right. ‘Tis the source of a popular brand of mead, but little else of note comes to mind. I do not believe I have had the pleasure of meeting its count here in Canterlot, and I have not visited myself.”

Normally I knew more about the major title holders and their lands than that, but this one was too obscure for me. It helped when I had at least had words with the noble who ran the estate in question. Considering Mother was both the Archmagus of Canterlot and Grand Vizier, many among Equestria’s nobility sought her favor, and as a result I had met many of them during dinners and other social occasions. The Count of Honeyfield was one of the rare exceptions to that, though—at least among those ponies whom Mother counted as foes.

“Indeed so.” She sighed. “Alas, Count High Stakes recently passed away, and there is some dispute regarding the succession.”

I frowned. “Did he not have an heir?”

“Not a single unambiguous one,” she elaborated.

That did not sound like fortuitous words. Especially when Her Highness had called upon me with an assignment. “I have a feeling you mean to tell me that there is more than one ambiguous potential heir.”

“Yes. It seems to be quite a tangled mess.” Her gaze turned towards the sky and focused on something I could not see. “And naturally, it is up to the count's liege lord to solve it.”

And that would be Princess Celestia herself. Whenever the succession of a title came into question, it fell to Her Highness to resolve it. Such things happened now and again, usually when there was no proper heir to inherit the title. That had been unusually common in the years since the Lunar Rebellion. Many among the nobility had been slain during the war, and many lines of succession had been cut as a result. Mother had assisted Her Highness in sorting out more than one battered house in the aftermath of the war, and the problem had caused considerable discord among the nobility.

“Ah, I think I see the crux of the issue before you,” I told her.

Her Highness nodded. “Indeed, and I need somepony to untangle the knot of conflicting claims.”

“Is there anything else you can tell me about Honeyfield and those who would claim its title?”

“I could, but I would prefer not to,” Princess Celestia answered with a cryptic smile. “I do not wish to sway thine opinion, for 'tis thy judgement and honesty I value most here.”

“Ah, I see.” I saw the problems she was alluding to. Mother had complained to me on multiple occasions that too many of her advisors put more effort into determining what she wanted to hear than addressing the given issue of the day. Likely the problem was all the greater for royalty, when so many sought royal approval.

I hummed to myself as I considered mine assignment. “That does not sound so difficult. I merely need to assess each claimant, then come back to you with a report on their suitability to take up the county. The only problem I can forsee is that I might need to wade through a vile, bottomless pit of lies and deceit as each claimant seeks to manipulate and deceive me toward their own petty ends.”

Princess Celestia smirked. “That is precisely what I expect thou wilt need to deal with. But I would not have asked thee to do it if I did not think thou couldst. Thou mayest, of course, recruit whatever retinue feels suitable.” She levitated a sealed scroll to me. “And thy papers announcing thy status as an agent of the crown.”

“My thanks, Your Highness. I am sure there are some whom I could find use for in this endeavor.” A couple of names came readily to mind. “If there is nothing else, I will prepare to go to Honeyfield immediately.”

She nodded. “Best of luck then, Midnight.”

It was not long afterwards that I was combing the streets for the first pony I intended to bring with me to Honeyfield. With the aid of a tracking spell, I found myself before a tavern. Entering the establishment, I found it to be a well-appointed business with fine, sturdy, and comfortable furniture, simple paintings, and the welcoming smell of hearty food intended to attract the reasonably prosperous craftponies of the district. One of the first things that caught my attention were the sounds of a lyre and the beautiful voice of the mare playing it.

Subtle Song sat on a cushion near the hearth, plucking at her instrument as the ponies in the tavern listened. Most likely none suspected that Subtle was in fact an agent of the crown acting in the role of a bard, though it probably helped that she certainly had the skills to play the part. Even from across the room I could tell that I had caught her attention, for a smile grew on her lips.

Not wishing to be rude or draw too much attention to myself, I walked over to an empty table and sat. A waiter soon appeared before me, and I ordered some simple juice and fried potato slices so as to pass the time until Subtle’s performance ended. With little else to do but wait, I listened to her song.

And then fair noble Midnight,
did nobly strike the fiend.
And valiantly she battled.
She would not let the foul hags steal her famous beauty...

As I listened to the lyrics, I quickly determined that the song was that of my encounter with the hags in Appleton. Though mayhap her song was sprinkled with ... embellishment. Plenty of them, especially where I was concerned. (2)

2. The ballad still survives to this day in Songs of the House Heartstrings. I can also confirm that Midnight’s accusations of embellishments, especially when compared to her memoirs, is warranted. Especially any of the passages alluding to Midnight’s beauty or any part where Subtle Song and Midnight interacted.

I nearly jumped out of my seat when the waiter dropped off my order. It was all I could do to pass her the bits required for the meal without making a complete fool of myself, and I quickly pulled my cloak’s hood over my head to hide myself. It only got worse at the end. My meeting with Subtle after defeating the hags went from a simple talk to ... something altogether more illicit. Members of the audience hooted and hollered, and all I could do was pull my cloak tighter around me in the hopes that nopony would recognize me or notice mine inflamed cheeks.

Thankfully, the song finally came to an end before I did something extreme. Applause rose up, and a collection plate was sent around the tavern. Patrons dropped bits into it in thanks for Subtle’s performance, and I did the same. A pony of my station could not be seen as miserly, of course.

Subtle stood and bowed for her audience, gathered her pay for the evening, and headed over to my table.

I fixed her with a level stare as she sat. “I see that accuracy is not necessary for thy songs.” Gale’s presence had not been mentioned even once over the course of the song. Though I had to wonder if that had more to do with whatever drove the animosity ‘tween Gale and Subtle, rather than mere artistic license.

“If the facts get in the way of what makes an entertaining song...” Subtle shrugged uncaringly. “‘Tis what ponies wish to hear. In truth, it is becoming one of my more popular songs, for it has a little of all that draws ponies in. Adventure, a stalwart defender of the people, vile monsters to be slain, heartache, and...” A wry smirk worked its way onto her features. “Romance.”

“I find it difficult to believe that anyone would wish to hear a song about me.”

Subtle smirked proudly and placed her lyre on the table. “They will want to hear any song when I make it. A mare of my skills could enrapture a crowd with a song about breaking my fast.”

I could not say whether Subtle was merely exaggerating or speaking the truth. Near as I could tell, she had a great talent for music, so what she said might very well be true, but that was not the reason why I had come to her this day. “I see. Then I hope that thou art not so popular that I cannot pull thee away from thine audience to accompany me on a mission.”

“Well, I could always use some new material,” Subtle assured me, popping a sliced potato into her mouth.

“‘Tis unlikely that this will be something for the bards to sing,” I told her. “As of right now, Mother frowns upon me going out and slaying monsters, and the task before us is merely to decide who will inherit the title of Honeyfield. It seems there is some dispute on the matter, and ‘tis for me to resolve.”

Subtle’s smile lost some of its luster. “Oh. Well, in that case I can always apply a little artistic license.” She grinned and scooted closer to me, very close. “Though really, Midnight, if you wanted some time alone with me away from prying eyes...”

I spluttered at the indecent suggestion. “I assure thee, that was not mine intent!”

“Oh?” Her lips puckered into a pout. “Pity.”

“‘Twould be indecent for me to treat a pony serving me so,” I explained, trying to regain my mental footing. “A superior should not take advantage of her lessers.”

A smirk grew on her features and she leaned in to whisper into my ear. “Who said you would be taking advantage of me? And perhaps you could do with a little indecency.”

My cheeks burned at the suggestion. I had a feeling I was going to profoundly regret bringing Subtle along for this assignment. “B-but I would not! That is, such thoughts have not...” Words utterly failed me. This was exactly why Mother was pressuring me to find a pony to bed. The fact that she was right about me getting too flustered by the idea of coitus only made it all the more infuriating.

Subtle covered her mouth as she giggled. “You know where to find me if the desire strikes you later.” A final smirk crossed her mouth before she leaned back away from me. “So ... what task lies before us?”

Thankfully, recruiting Sergeant Stalwart Kicker proved much less embarrassing. Lady Protector Shadow Kicker had put him at my disposal, so he was more than willing to see to my safety. To cut down on travel time, Mother had given me permission to use the royal courtier sky carriages as needed—something I was thankful for, since that made traveling much more convenient.

The next morning saw us flying over the county of Honeyfield. Farms and patches of forest dotted the land below us as a pair of pegasi pulled the carriage through the air. I took interest as Castle Honeyfield appeared on the horizon. It sat on a hill dominating the river that ran through the county.

Further down the river bank was the town of Glazing, a small barge lazily pulling into its docks. As we approached, more details of the castle became apparent. It must have been some time since any of the lords of the castle had felt seriously threatened, for a great many extensions had been made to the original structure. Stone buildings had been constructed both within the castle wall and along its exterior in a manner that struck me as somewhat haphazard. Being familiar with Canterlot’s add-on-tower-obsessed architecture, I could readily recognized the additions to the castle as being that of the whims of generations of Honeyfield lords, with each successive count or countess adding to the structure as need or desire drove them.

Stalwart, who had chosen to fly besides the carriage rather than relax within its interior, motioned for the pegasi pullers to begin our descent. We made a gentle landing on the road leading to the castle, and I stepped out to stretch my legs from the flight. Subtle did very much the same, yawning loudly as she did so.

As I looked around to take in our surroundings, I noticed the fields of sunflowers with periodically placed crates, each nearly the size of a pony. Even from the road I could hear the buzz of the beehives within the boxes. Several of the farmers working the castleside farm stopped their routines to stare as us and talk quietly among themselves.

Having stretched my legs, I pulled my silver-and-blue-trimmed cloak out of the carriage and clasped it around my neck. As I did so, a trio of pegasus guards wearing the yellow and green of House Honeyfield approached us. Each of them was grim-faced at the sudden arrival of guests at their lord’s residence, though they seemed hardly threatening as far as guards went.

The mare at the center of the trio stepped forward. She was powerfully built, with faded orange coat and dark-green mane largely hidden by her helm. Her face had a striking fierceness to it that, while not particularly comely, was still what most would consider handsome.

“Greetings, travelers,” she said, her tone formal. “I am Captain Freezy Hail of the Honeyfield Houseguard. What brings you to our late lord’s home?”

I stepped forward to address her. “I am Magus Midnight, and this is my retinue: my bodyguard, Sergeant Stalwart Kicker, and over here is my servant, Subtle Song.” I motioned to each of them. “I have been sent here by Princess Celestia to assess the county and assist her determination as to who shall inherit the title of Honeyfield.”

Freezy’s eyes flicked over me and narrowed slightly. “And you have papers confirming this?”

“Of course.” I produced the necessary paperwork. Complaining about a bodyguard’s suspicion did about as much good as complaining that the rain was wet.

The houseguard captain looked the papers over and, unlike more than one illiterate guard I had been challenged by over the years, actually read the document. “Everything seems to be in order.” She returned the papers to me. “Shall I escort you to the castle, Magus?”

“I would appreciate it,” I answered. I motioned at the pegasi who had flown us here and the carriage. “Also, if I could have my luggage seen to and my retinue taken care of, I would be most appreciative.”

“Of course.” Freezy nodded to one of her fellow guards. “See to the luggage and get these ponies a warm meal.” The guard saluted and went about his assigned task, allowing the captain to turn her attention back to me. “If you will follow me, I will show you into the castle.”

We followed after her and took in the castle as we approached its gate. Up close it was easy enough to see that ‘twas an older castle, its stones weathered and splotches of moss growing up along the wall. There was also a need to maintain the place. One of the roofs of the adjacent buildings sagged quite noticeably, paint was badly faded and chipped in many places, and wood of the gate was in need of replacement.

“Looks like it's seen better times,” Stalwart observed.

“Aye, it does seem to be in mild disrepair,” I agreed, noticing cracks within the wall in bad need of a fresh layer of mortar. It made me wonder if Castle Honeyfield’s income had suffered, or if it had simply been neglected. There was more than one example of impoverished nobility in Equestria, and a county suffering from poverty would help explain why I had not see the late count at court. (3)

3. Most likely this was a result of Count High Stakes earning significantly less income than the county was accustomed to. Like most regions in Equestria after the Lunar Rebellion, records suggest that Honeyfield suffered from an economic depression that was typical of the Great Ennui. Census records indicate that the population of Honeyfield dropped by around 4-5%, with a disproportionate amount of those casualties being among the young adults of the population. There was also widespread property damage in the county as competing groups of militias attacked one another. Add all of this to the decrease in income across Equestria and a fall in trade, the end result was a 37% drop in taxes collected compared to the prewar period.

“It is still a lovely estate,” Subtle said as we entered the castle courtyard. Within we found a large floral garden typical in style to other country manors. This much at least seemed to be in good repair.

I decided to be diplomatic. “It could be a fine estate with some work.”

Subtle nodded in agreement. “It just needs a caring hoof.”

“Then mayhaps the next count will do so,” Freezy answered with perfect neutrality.

“Or countess,” someone called out from our flank. A striking figure stepped out from the garden that immediately drew my attention. At first glance I thought she was a unicorn, but a more careful look quickly dismissed that. She had the horn and equine form of a unicorn and a lithe and graceful body that seemed to flow as she walked, with a green coat like spring grass, and a long, flowing mane that was the yellow of sunlight. But there were a few features that dispelled the idea she was a pony. First and foremost were her yellow cat-like slitted eyes. Her facial features were also too angular and sharp for a pony, her ears more pointed than normal, and she possessed an exotic beauty that was normally only seen among the idealistic artistic portrayals of beauty.

A fey, unless I missed my guess. Though I was not sure what exact species. Mayhap she was one of the sidhe, a noble fey, and not a creature to trifle with. Either way, I had not expected to see one such as her in Honeyfield—at least not within the castle ground—and it was something to be cautious about. Fey were by nature tricky creatures, and a sidhe could be of immense power.

“Aye, it could be either,” I said diplomatically, taking her measure in as I spoke. “And with whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?”

The fey gave me a wide and extremely inviting smile, and I got the impression she was quite happy to see me, something that only made me more nervous. “I am Émeraude Gracieuse, and I welcome you to Honeyfield. Might I have the pleasure of knowing your names?”

I inclined my head in agreement. “I am Magus Midnight, and 'tis a pleasure to accept your hospitality on behalf of myself and my followers.” There was little to be gained by offending the fey right at this moment, especially when she had offered me hospitality. Hospitality was a binding contract where fey were concerned, and while it struck me as strange that Émeraude could offer hospitality for the castle to start with, it still stuck me as wise to accept the offer. ‘Twould keep this Émeraude from immediately trying something like ripping my screaming soul from my body and dragging it to some foul realm of existence to torture for untold eons.

“Come, come. I am sure you are tired and hungry after your long journey.” Emerald motioned towards the main keep, and the rest of us followed her.

I felt the pang of hunger in my belly when I was reminded that it had been some time since I had a proper meal. “Some food and drink would not go amiss after our trip.”

“Then we will provide some for you.” Émeraude turned to lead us into the main keep. “So, what brings a royal magus to our fine home?”

“I am here to help Princess Celestia choose who will be the next Count of Honeyfield,” I announced. “She wishes for me to see all the proposed candidates and give a report announcing their suitability.”

Something I could not read twinkled behind Émeraude’s eyes as she tilted her head to look my way. “I am entirely certain you will make the right choice.” There was something implied in the words she had just said. A demand, mayhap, or a threat? It had been meaningful either way.

“I have every intention to be diligent in my duties,” I told her. “The candidates will be judged based on their suitability to carry out their duties and the legitimacy of their claims.”

“That is all we can ask for,” Émeraude agreed pleasantly. Soon we found ourselves in a well-appointed dining hall. Our hostess stopped at the head dining table, which had been situated on a podium to allow the master of the castle to oversee the guests in their hall. “Would you care for fresh mead and sweetcakes? I can have some brought for you all.”

Subtle leaned close to me. “Careful about fey and gifts,” she murmured.

“Yes, thou shouldst be wary of this one,” Corva whispered within my mind. “She is the most dangerous one here.”

Ever since I had made contact with Corva, the raven spirit had been able to speak with me with gradually increasing frequency. Corva said ‘twas merely that she was having an easier time speaking with me as I opened up to her. What this exactly meant or whether this was something to be concerned with, I did not know.

In any event, they were right to be cautious. Accepting gifts from a fey could easily indebt you to them, and the fair folk always collected their debts. It was but one of the ways that dealing with the fey was potentially dangerous.

The fey had any number of strange magics, and while they could tell no lies, that was not the same as telling the truth. More than one pony had been ensnared by misdirections, questions, implications, and assumptions. The danger was only heightened with the fey’s tendencies to make deals with mortals. Such deals rarely ended well for the mortals in question, and usually ended up with the individual being ensnared by the fey.

“Aye, I am aware of the dangers,” I whispered to both of them. “I will be cautious.”

Émeraude smiled knowingly. “I am offering hospitality, not a gift,” she told us, despite the fact we had been only whispering to one another. She probably had excellent hearing—far greater than any pony—now that I thought about it. I would need to be careful about what I said in front of her in the future if she could overhear everything I said in her company.

“Then I see no reason not to enjoy the hospitality of such a gracious host.” At least by the reckoning of fey, food and drink was an obligation for a host to provide her guests and thus did not qualify as a gift.

Taking his cues from myself, Stalwart gave a small smile. “I have never tried mead.”

“I have heard that Honeyfield's mead is quite good, even if I have never partaken myself.” My compliment elicited a smile from Émeraude, exactly as I hoped. As mother had taught me, compliments cost nothing, but could easily earn you the goodwill of others you had just met.

“Excellent.” Émeraude turned to Freezy with a poisonously sweet smile. “Freezy, be a dear and take care of getting refreshments for our guests, wouldst thou?”

Freezy stiffened at the request. “I am sure one of the servants can see to it.”

“Yes, but thou art here now.” Emerald waved dismissively. “Come now, be kind to our guests and see to it that they are treated well.”

Freezy frowned for a long moment before she relented. “Very well. I will be back soon.” She turned and headed to the kitchen.

That somewhat uncomfortable moment now passed, I said, “She seems ... suitably stoic for her position.”

“She is the old blood of Pegasopolis,” Stalwart said.

“Dost thou know her, Sergeant?” I asked.

Stalwart shook his head. “No, but I recognize how she carries herself.”

That knowledge in hoof, I turned to Émeraude. “I take it she was hired as one of the late count's guards after the war?”

Many a noble house had taken to hiring former warriors of Pegasopolis as their personal armsponies. Even accounting for how Mother and Her Highness had restricted how many guards they could staff, many a house had found themselves short. (4) In that light, I did not find it surprising to see one running Honeyfield’s guard.

4. This was due to a number of factors, one being the heavy casualties experienced during the Lunar Rebellion and especially amongst the nobility, knights, and their personal retainers. The shortage was only exacerbated when the greatly expanded Royal Guard offered better pay, benefits, and opportunities for the soldiers who signed up with it after the war. Though the noble houses of Equestria found a ready pool of warriors in the broken up remains of the Pegasopolian clans, considering many of them refused to work for the crown that had defeated them and many of them lacked skills beyond warmaking.

“Indeed so, and one who has served very ... loyally.” Émeraude placed a special emphasis on that last word, and it made me wonder why she had done so. “She was highly devoted to the old count. More so than was even required by her oaths.”

“I could see that.” I took a guess at why that might be. “What with so many former warriors of Pegasopolis having to find another path when their nation was dissolved.”

Stalwart nodded. “We all had to find a place for ourselves.”

“Indeed, 'tis a sad creature that does not know its place in the world,” Émeraude observed. “And the count was ... trusting and warm to her.” She shrugged. “He trusted her enough to make her the captain of his guard.”

“How did Count High Stakes pass away?” I asked, and then added, “If I may inquire.”

Something flashed over Émeraude’s features as a deep frown showed itself on her lips. “I was told he passed quietly in the night. Quite suddenly, in fact. He had not been in good health before he passed away, of course. He always had a weak heart. Though his death still surprised us when it happened.”

It was difficult to read the fey, but I detected more in her words than mere grief. Though whatever it was, she hid it well behind a somewhat detached aura, even if there was an undercurrent of ... wrath, in eyes? Now what might provoke such a response?

“My condolences for your loss,” I said. “Especially when he does not seem to have left a clear heir to his house.”

Émeraude sighed and nodded. “‘Tis always sad to see one of my descendants pass, but ‘tis a pain I am used to.”

“Though that does make me curious about yourself.” I sat at the table as I spoke with Émeraude. “‘Tis strange to see a fey such as yourself walking quite so openly as this.”

Émeraude sat at the head of the table and grinned. “Not all of us are subtle manipulators who stick to the shadows.”

“Some of them know you catch more flies with honey,” Subtle said under her breath, sitting next to me. Her hostility to Émeraude made me wonder if she was merely suspicious of the fey or had some reason to dislike the fair folk. Though if Émeraude was the least bit perturbed by Subtle’s suspicion, she didn't show it.

“So what is your place here in Honeyfield?” I asked. “You mentioned you are related to the counts of Honeyfield.”

She smiled and nodded. “Why, the old count was my nephew. Many generations removed, but...” Her shoulders moved in a casual shrug.

“Is that so?” I said. “How long have you been with the Honeyfields?”

“Almost since the beginning.” Émeraude pointed to a mosaic that spanned the dining hall walls. It was an old painting, made in a style centuries old. It depicted a unicorn in armor, wielding his sword valiantly before a horde of barbarically depicted gryphon warriors accompanied by a score of wyverns. Behind the shining knight were a half dozen fierce companions, who in turn were followed by a mixture of knights, earth pony militia, and pegasi warriors, with a walled city behind them.

“Centuries ago, Sir Steel Grace discovered a gryphon reiver plot to sack Fillydelphia,” Émeraude explained. “With great skill and diplomacy, he managed to organize a defense against the reivers, and after a difficult siege, the defenders managed to hold off the attackers until a relief army led by Queen Luna repulsed the invaders—thanks in no small part to Steel rallying its defenders time and again.”

She pointed to another mural, this one depicting Sir Steel Grace kneeling before Queen Luna and then—Queen Celestia, a scroll being levitated from them to Steel. “As reward, our queens rewarded him with a new title of nobility, that of what would be called the County of Honeyfield. At the time Honeyfield was a wild land, filled with monsters and other dangers, but step by step Steel and his followers claimed this land. One of his greatest successes was when he met with the local fey and formed an accord with them. In exchange for certain tributes and guarantees of conduct on the part of ponies, the fey ensured that the land would be bountiful, and that there would be peace ‘tween the fey and ponies.”

I leaned forward, quite interested to hear the details of the founding of Honeyfield. “And I am to assume that you are somehow part of this accord?”

Émeraude smiled and nodded. “Indeed. For I am the first child of Count Steel Grace, born of the count and a fey lover to seal the binding of the Honeyfield Compact.”

I tilted my head as I considered this. “And if I had to guess, you are a fey whose duties are tied to Honeyfield and its counts?” No fey existed without purpose. Each served some role, great or small, within the fabric of reality, be it the managing of certain aspects of nature, like the dryads with their trees and forests or the muses and the promotion of the arts. It was tied into their very being.

“Indeed. 'Tis my duty to maintain the accord and protect the descendants of my father, and so I have for all these years.” Émeraude smiled with clear self-satisfaction. “And in addition to the great bounty of the land, Honeyfield produces the finest honey and mead in all of Equestria. As such, the Compact brings peace and prosperity to my home.”

“That is good to know.” It did help put some context to what I was dealing with in Honeyfield. At the very least, it showed that Émeraude was an important figure to the county, and a potentially useful source of information. With that in mind, I asked, “Then no doubt you would have some strong opinions on who should become the count or countess of Honeyfield.”

“I would hardly be here otherwise,” Émeraude confirmed.

“Who would you prefer to inherit the title?” I probed. “For if I understand everything correctly, while you were Sir Steel’s firstborn, you were not his legitimate heir. So I am to guess that your father eventually married and had a heir by his lawfully wedded wife.”

Émeraude gave me a wry grin. “That is correct. The Accord assigned me to aid those of my blood, not rule over them. I simply want to make sure the best candidate is chosen to be the lord of Honeyfield. Though considering none of them were groomed for the post, I would naturally be willing to provide the benefit of my centuries of experience.”

“In other words, you want to manipulate things from behind the scenes,” Subtle observed bluntly.

“It is only natural that I should wish for my descendant to know how to do his or her duties,” Émeraude calmly countered. “I have advised the counts and countesses for centuries, and plan to continue doing so.”

I nodded in allowance. She made a point, even if I would personally be wary of the manipulations of a centuries-old fey. But there seemed little I could do about Émeraude unless I wanted to act in an extreme manner. “That makes sense enough. Of course, we will need to find a suitable pony to take up the title and its duties. For that, I will need to interview all who desire the title so that I can find the best candidate.”

“But of course,” Émeraude readily agreed. “And if you should like ... any additional information.” She let the offer of a bargain hang in the air as she tried to entice me.

That would explain why she information about all the would-be counts of Honeyfield had been so sparse up to now. She wished to strike a deal with me to tell me what I would like to know. That was a tricky proposition, especially when I had only arrived. ‘Twould be far safer to see what I was deal with with mine own eyes before I made a deal for information with Émeraude.

Before I could reply, Song narrowed her eyes and spoke first. “If you think we would allow Midnight to be so blatantly manipulated...”

Émeraude smiled dryly. “Of course, I only meant to be of aid.”

“I will keep your offer in mind for the future,” I said graciously so as to not offend her. No sense being rude.

Before we could continue our conversation, Captain Freezy returned to the dining hall with a servant in tow. “Here are your mead and honeyed cakes, miladies,” she announced as the servant placed the food and drink before us.

We all thanked them for their hospitality. I tried one of the honey cakes and found it quite tasty. Better even than what I typically enjoyed in Canterlot.

Stalwart raised his mug to Freezy. “Thank you, warrior.” He took an experimental sip of his mead and, finding it to his tastes, took a deeper draft. “If I might ask, from which clan did you hail?”

Freezy stiffened for a moment, but then relaxed her muscles. “The Doos, if you must know.”

Stalwart nodded. “A good and noble clan. My late wife was a Doo.” He smiled, and a wistful look fell over his features.

The compliment brought a slight smile to Freezy’s lips. “Aye, I do miss it. Mayhap we could speak of old times over some mead later, Sergeant?”

“I would be glad to,” Stalwart said. “It has been too long since I spoke with one of your clan.”

For my part, I was far less nostalgic for the pegasi clans. But likely I was biased when Pegasopolis laid siege to my home, threatened to sack the city and engage in wanton acts pillaging, rapine, and burning, and had kidnapped me with the intentions of slicing open my entrails and bleeding me out for the purpose of feeding a dark god enough power to slay all those I so loved and cared for, and bring about an eternal night that would see Equestria slowly become a frozen tomb from which there was no escape.

I think my bias is more than rational, even if I would not disallow my loyal bodyguard from exchanging memories with a fellow pegasus about their fallen nation.

“Then we will do so later,” Freezy said. “It would be good to talk with a proper warrior that is not part of Honeyfield’s guard.”

Émeraude put on a smile that stuck me as forced. “I am glad to see everyone is getting along.”

“'Tis far better than us being in discord, I would think.” I picked up another one of the honey cakes. “‘Twould be most unbecoming for us to engage in great and terrible acts of violence that caused blood to drench your home in blood and gore.”

Subtle grinned. “Exactly.”

“Yes, we can't have any of that,” Émeraude agreed. “It would be a terrible mess for the servants to clean up.” One of the fey’s ears flicked and turned. “Speaking of...”

Before I could say anything else, a dozen dogs, large bloodhounds each, raced into the dining hall. They had clearly just been outside, for they were all covered in mud and foliage stuck to them. I did not have the time to raise an objection before they swarmed me. The first two stuck their muzzles right into my face to sniff me and lick at my face, and another snatched the honey cake right out of my telekinesis. The beast barely even bothered with chewing before swallowing the treat. Then, worst of all, the pack started rubbing themselves against me, coating me with a layer of mud, their tails smacking against my sides as they continued to assault me with more licking.

I knew not what to do in the face of this. All I could do was grimace and clench up in revulsion as the bloodhounds made me utterly filthy.

Émeraude smiled and idly patted one of the dogs on the head. “I see Rumble has returned.”

“Is that so?” I asked, my eye twitching as I was forced to maintain a decorum that had been thoroughly violated. “And pray tell, who is Rumble?”

My question was answered when a unicorn stallion strode in through the same doorway as the dogs. It was somewhat difficult to tell with his brown coat, but the barrel-chested stallion who must have been Rumble was as covered in as much mud as his dogs. There were even leaves sticking out of his bushy yellow beard and mane. “Ah, nothing like a good hunt to get the blood flowing!” He flopped down onto one of the tableside cushions, irrespective of the mud he was getting on it. Instead of being mindful of the mess he was causing, he raised a hoof to catch the attention of one of the servants. “Bring me some mead! I only return because I ran out.”

I forced my lips into something like a smile as the dogs continued bury me in a pile of wet and dirty fur, wet kisses and noses, and wagging tails. “I presume you are Rumble?”

“I am!” Rumble slammed a hoof on the table.“Sir Rumble Rapids. Count Rumble Rapids, soon enough. And you would be...?”

“I am Magus Midnight,” I told him as I tried to push one to the bloodhound’s muzzles out of my face, only for two more to take its place. “I was assigned by Princess Celestia to evaluate all the candidates to become count of Honeyfield.”

Rumble’s smile widened. “Ah, so you're here to confirm me as the new count? Good! You could just have just sent a letter, but I can see where our princess would want to send some pony important to tell everypony the good news.”

The frown I showed suddenly did not have to do solely with the dogs surrounding me. “I have confirmed nothing yet since I have only just arrived. There is still much work to be done before a decision can be made.”

“Of course, of course.” The would-be count waved dismissively. “All that paperwork nonsense the paper-pushers seem to love.”

Before we delved into any more of Rumble’s insistences that he would be count, I addressed a more immediate problem. “And could you retrieve your dogs? They are...” One of the hounds enthusiastically licked me across the face. “Excessively friendly.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” Rumble whistled, and the dogs immediately obeyed him. They all took position a little bit away from the table sat in a neat row.

I let out a relieved sigh. “My thanks.” I grimaced as I looked over my mud-covered frame and cloak. The dogs had been most thorough in making sure nothing of me remained clean, and I could feel that my mane was out of place due to all the licking. This was ... undesireable.

“Of course, of course.” Rumble shrugged helplessly. “Sorry, they're friendly.”

I gave him a flat look. “I noticed.”

“Mine apologies, Magus.” Émeraude smiled as her gaze fell over the dogs. “Our hunting dogs really are quite well trained. Even if my nephew does tend to let them off the leash a little more than he perhaps should.”

Rumble snorted and rolled his eyes. “Oh, stop naggin’ me. They are dogs; they are meant to be let run wild now and again.”

Émeraude gave him a reproachful look but remained silent.

I decided to interrupt them so that I could get the conversation back to the topic I wished to address. “In any event, ‘tis my hope that I could meet with everypony who desires to take up the title of Honeyfield. Could this be arranged?”

Émeraude nodded. “But of course, honored guest.”

Rumble shot his great aunt a narrowed eyed glare. “Do you practice being so damned unctuous, or does it just come naturally?” he growled at her.

“She has been a model host thus far,” I found myself saying in Émeraude’s defense. Well, she had been far more gracious of a host than Rumble up to this point. One would think he would be a bit more concerned by my presence than not at all.

Émeraude smiled. “Thank you, Midnight.”

“Mayhap a bath could be drawn for me while that meeting is arranged?” I asked.

“Perhaps you could as well, Rumble?” Émeraude said with a pointed smile.

Rumble frowned as he considered the question and then lifted his leg to sniff at the pit of his leg. “Nah, I am quite fine.”

I gave Rumble a smile that perhaps showed a bit too much teeth. “I see that nature suits you.”

Rumble nodded, seemingly ignorant of my barb. “Of course.”

Émeraude sighed and stood. “Allow me to show you the way, Magus.”

“My thanks.” I stood and grimaced, as the sensation of being covered by mud did not suit me. “It seems I have ... developed some dirt.”

With the aid of Castle Honeyfield's servants, I was soon clean. After brushing out my mane and coat and putting on a fresh cloak, I was once again presentable. That done, I stepped out of the room provided to me, and found Émeraude waiting on me.

She smiled at the sight of me. “I see our baths agreed with you, Magus.”

I nodded. “That it did. Much more than being covered by mud.”

Émeraude sighed and ran a hoof through her mane. “Rumble has always had a touch more enthusiasm than decorum.”

“I noticed.” Diplomacy certainly did not seem to be one of his innate skills. There was more than one distinguished individual I knew that would have immediately departed Honeyfield's after the rough treatment I had received on his part—at least without some sort of profuse apology. But I had my duty to the Princess, and so would not do quickly abandons my mission regardless of my distaste for mud. “He strikes me as one more comfortable with the countryside than in any kind of court or formal affair.”

“Exactly,” Émeraude agreed. “To be honest, I do not even know why he even wants to inherit his uncle’s title. I can hardly imagine he would want to rule, as the burdens of rule would bring him no pleasure. Acting as a knight in his lord’s service seems to suit him just fine.”

“That would be a good question.” It made me wonder if Émeraude was suggesting that Rumble should not be chosen to become a count. “The burdens of rule are not to be taken lightly. Especially when they are to be borne for the rest of one’s life.”

Émeraude hummed in agreement. “Something quite a few of the others could do well to remember. Everyone has been gathered and is waiting for you downstairs in the parlor. If you would follow me…?”

I followed her down to the parlor. As to be expected of a count’s parlor, the room was luxuriously decorated. Paintings and animal heads adorned the wall. Unfortunately, none of skulls had been painted pink. The fine fireplace had been lit with a gentle fire, and all the furniture looked comfortable to recline on.

Within the room were over half a dozen individuals, including Subtle, Stalwart, Émeraude, Freezy, and Rumble. There were three others I did not know, besides the servants who were providing snacks and drink to everyone present. Many of them eyed each other warily, and there was a thickness to the air as I entered. Whatever their relationships might be, I could sense that this was no friendly meeting between family.

Corva spoke up in my mind as I made my way towards the fireplace. “Be mindful of those around thee, Midnight. See how they look at one another? How they trade words, and what is and is not said. Much can be gleamed with a watchful eye.”

“I will be sure to pay attention,” I assured the raven queen. Her lessons had not only pertained to magic; certain social lessons had been among the other things she had insisted on teaching me.

I cleared my throat and raised my voice. “Greetings everypony. I am Magus Midnight, and as you have probably heard, I have been sent by Princess Celestia to review everyone's claims on the title of count for Honeyfield.”

“Well, here we all are,” Rumble interrupted in what I was starting to suspect was his typically brusk manner. “Let us waste no time settling it.”

“The process will take as long as it takes,” I affirmed, reasserting my authority. “I plan on being thorough in my duties and will act accordingly. To start the process, I would like to hear everypony's claim. I have met with a couple of you already, but I do not know most of you or what brings you here this day.”

A unicorn mare stood up from the couch she had been using alongside a portly-looking earth pony stallion. She appeared to be in the prime of her youth, and was wearing a fashionable azure dress. Her bright smile accentuated a very comely and shapely face. With naturally regal bearing, white coat, and a pink mane done up in a meticulous bun, she could easily have fit in amongst the Canterlot elite.

She curtseyed for me, a bright smile on her face as she spoke. “I am Lady Shining Quest, and it is a pleasure to meet you, honorable magus. I am from a noble and honorable cadet branch of the Honeyfield family, and with the succession in doubt, I seek to take over from my dearly departed cousin.”

“‘Dearly departed’,” Rumble spat eliciting a scowl from Shining. “I have never met you, and I do not think my cousin did either.”

I loudly cleared my throat and gave Rumble a pointed look. “I ask that we refrain from comments for now. Debate can wait until after I have a firm grasp on who is who here.”

Émeraude smiled lazily as she sat on her own cushion. “Émeraude Gracieuse. Great-aunt to the former count, and long-time guardian of Honeyfield and its family. I merely wish to ensure that whomever takes over the county rules well and ably.”

The next to address me was a unicorn stallion with a dark-grey coat and icy-blue mane. His mane and rich moustache were well-groomed, and he carried himself with the air of nobility. “I am Duke Fierté Ferme of Blackwood.” He smiled confidently for me. “I believe we have already been introduced in Canterlot, Magus?”

I nodded. Indeed I had met the duke during a couple of social occasions within Canterlot, even if those meetings had not been long ones. The Duke of Blackwood had at least seemed an honorable stallion, even if he was not one of my mother’s allies. “We have, Duke Ferme. It is a pleasure to see you again. Do you have a claim on the county as well?”

“No, I am afraid the reason I came to Honeyfield is a different matter.” Duke Ferme let out a long sigh. “Unfortunately, I am sorry to say my old friend High has left a rather severe debt to me. I have tried to cover for him during the last few hard years of his life, especially as Honeyfield had trouble meeting its obligations, but I am afraid I am reaching a point where something must be done about Honeyfield's outstanding debts.” He shrugged helplessly. “It was my hope that some sort of arrangement could be made.”

I frowned as I wondered how much debt he was talking about. That was one more thing I would have to investigate. One of the tasks of a royal agent in these circumstances was to double check how the affairs of the title were doing. On more than one occasion Her Highness had stripped a title from a family that had proven to be poor stewards, especially where money was concerned—though the Princess did not do so save in extreme circumstances. Both because it upset the nobility, and because she did not wish to take away the legacy of the pony she had gifted the title to begin with.

“I will keep that in mind as I proceed,” I said. “While I am here I will see what can be done about the debt in question.”

“My thanks for that,” Duke Ferme said. “If nothing else, mayhaps a deal can be struck to leave everypony happy.”

That offer made me wonder what the duke really sought. I had a feeling that he wanted more than merely to be paid his money back. “Émeraude, I trust the county records can be made available to me?” I asked.

Émeraude inclined her head in a nod. “They can be.”

“Then I will be sure to look them over later.”

Rumble shifted in his seat, giving the others a narrowed eyed look as he spoke. “The count was my cousin—quite a bit closer than certain branches of the family.” His stared daggers at Shining. “Not to mention we were very dear, close friends. He asked me to look after his lands after he could no longer do so, and I intend to.”

Shining scoffed and sat back down on her cushion next to her earth pony companion. “Yes, and we can see how well Honeyfield has done when you advised the late count.”

“Meaning what, exactly?” Rumble growled.

“Meaning the county is on the brink of bankruptcy.” Shining absently played with her mane as she continued speaking. “If it gets any worse, Her Highness might very well take back the county and then give them to another family.”

“Something I intend to prevent,” Émeraude stated firmly. “I have not watched over this family and these lands for centuries just to see them lost now.”

Shining smiled and nodded. “What this county needs is somepony to govern it back to good health and then pass it down to our descendants. I have been raised since birth to help manage an estate, and can be a good steward of Honeyfield for our family and the people of the county.”

That certainly sounded like a noble ideal, even if I had to be wary about Shining’s actual motives. If I were in her place, I would seek to tailor mine argument for mine audience. Hopefully, an individual interview would help me find out more about her and her desires.

“Shame for you the law is perfectly clear,” Rumble shot back. “I am the closer relative, and the count's prefered choice. Therefore, I should become count.”

“A pity then that your finances would not aid the county at all,” Shining said as she dismissively brushed some dirt off her dress. “Meanwhile, my family can provide sufficient funds to relieve its financial obligations, and I have means by which to acquire more funds from friends of mine.” She smiled at her unassuming earth pony friend.

“You cannot buy a better claim, girl,” Rumble said with a scowl. “And being a count is about more than money.”

“True,” Shining said airily. “There is also the matter that you are not a young stallion. And yet, you are unwed and without an heir. There seems little point in giving you the title if we will face the same sort of succession crisis in a matter of years.”

Rumble shrugged. “Never needed a wife before now. I can assure you, my lady, my loins are still perfectly fruitful. I can do my duty if need be. And—”

I held up a hoof to forestall them. “That is quite enough. We can review the specifics of your claims once I have had time to study them. For now, what other claims are there?” ‘Tis not that I was overly eager to see more of them. The situation was already becoming complicated. It seemed there was little hope that I would quickly and easily be able to fix the county.

Captain Freezy stepped forward to address me. “I for one only seek to make sure my daughter is provided for.” She squared her shoulders as she continued. “My daughter, Snowfall, is the only surviving child of High Stakes, and while illegitimate, is still entitled to a stipend so that she will be taken care of.”

Duke Ferme looked out the corner of his eye at Freezy. “Something that might be difficult to arrange with the county's finances being what they are.”

Rumble scoffed at the suggestion, waving it off. “I am sure we can find a few bits to see that his child is cared for.”

“Thou dost not seek the title of countess for thy child, Captain Freezy?” I asked. “While she may be an illegitimate child of Count High Stakes, she still has a claim on Honeyfield with there being no legitimate children of the count.”

Freezy’s reply was a derisive snort. “I would not wish that fate for my daughter. She deserves better than to be chained down to this place. All I wish for is the bits to see for her wellbeing.”

That was a more hostile response to the idea of her daughter becoming a countess than I had expected. Especially from a mare Émeraude had described as quite loyal to the late count. Mayhaps the pain of his loss was driving her to leave the county once her daughter’s future had been secured? Yet another thing I would have to look into.

“‘Tis reasonable that Snowfall should get a stipend,” I stated. “No doubt her father would desire his daughter to be provided for. Does anyone here object to that?” None were raised among the ponies around me. Whether that meant they all agreed with me or did not wish to risk my displeasure I could not say. “Then if there are no objections I will hold whomever becomes the count to that promise. I know Princess Celestia will most certainly require it.”

“Good, that's one thing settled,” Rumble grumbled, leaning back in his seat. “Keep it up and we might actually make some progress.”

“Wait!” somepony yelled from an adjacent room. There was the sound of ponies scuffling outside the parlor, and then the doors burst inwards. A disheveled stallion stumbled his way into the room. His greying brown mane was wild and unkempt, his dark-green coat unbrushed, and days-old stubble covered his face. He was thin from hunger, and there was a wild look to his eyes.

Stalwart immediately took a position between me and the newcomer, and I prepared a couple of spells in the event they were needed to protect myself or the other guests.

The strange stallion took a moment to take us all in, his fierce scowl growing as his eyes swept over them. It was all the time needed for the house guards to catch up and come to grapple with him. Freezy hissed and motioned for the guards to take the stallion away. She turned me and bowed her head. “My apologies. This pony has been causing trouble in the town and—”

“Do not listen to these charlatans!” the stallion screamed over her. “I am High Roller, and I am the count's son and true heir! Do not let them—” He was silenced when one of the guards punched him in the stomach, blowing the air out of him.

They started dragging him away, but I held up a hoof to to them. “Wait.” This might very well be some madpony, but the fact he had claimed that to be the count’s true heir. That was something I had to address.

Freezy raised her voice up in objection. “Magus, do not entertain this troublemaker. He may claim to be High’s son, but High Stakes’ son died during the war.”

“This is certain?” I asked. “Was a body recovered, or can a reliable witness be presented for this fact?” I had heard of more than one circumstance where somepony had been believed to be dead from the war only to be found alive sometime later. One never knew for certain if a magus was dead until a corpse was recovered, and sometimes even then...

Freezy hesitated. “Neigh, he was with Duke Polaris’ army when it was destroyed, and he never returned to Honeyfield. It was assumed he must have fallen on the battlefield.”

Rumble grunted in agreement. “Aye, I was at that battle, and ‘twas nothing but chaos. I only barely avoided death or capture myself. Many fallen ponies were never recovered.”

A curious development. With this knowledge in hoof, I turned to the pony who claimed to be the heir of High Stakes and waved for the guards to release him. “Do you have any evidence to sustain that claim?”

“Aye! Ponies here will know me!” He turned a desperate gaze to Rumble. “Uncle, you remember your nephew, do you not?!”

Rumble’s eyes narrowed slowly. “I remember a young stallion going out to make a name for himself a decade ago and vanishing without a trace, leaving a heartbroken father.”

The stallion blinked and took a step back as though he had been slapped. “I was captured when Duke Polaris' army was defeated! I was taken to the prisoner camps, but then some of those damnable militia ponies at Manehattan sold me to Freeport pirates. They intended to ransom me back to my father. I would have returned sooner, but the ransom never came!”

“And you just now appear, of all times?” Shining asked, incredulity lacing her words. “That is an outstanding coincidence.”

“‘Tis the truth!” His gaze returned to me. “I only recently managed to escape from slavery in Freeport! 'Twas not by choice I have been away!”

“I will grant that he does resemble my nephew, or at least what I recall of the lad.” Rumble shrugged. “Though I expect there are dozens of stallions who do, especially with a decade for memories to fade and aging to account for. And the right magic can let a pony look like just about anypony.”

The stranger turned to the fey guardian of Honeyfield. “Émeraude! You remember me, do you not?”

Émeraude nodded and she spoke with a casual air. “I remember High Roller well, but you look a fair bit older than he should.”

His mouth worked wordlessly after Émeraude failed to produce a firm affirmation on who he claimed to be, a look of hurt betrayal on his face. “Y-you all are trying to steal my father's legacy from me! I should have all of you tossed out on your ears!”

Freezy shot me an unamused look. “Shall I have him removed, Magus?”

I nodded. “Remove him for now. Take him to an inn in Glazing, and get him a room at mine expense. I will investigate his claims later.” It seemed best to remove the stallion from the current situation, at the very least. Having him standing here before a hostile audience was not helping his case in any event. While the timing of his appearance was highly suspicious, I would still look into it.

Freezy frowned, but waved to the guards. “Do as the magus ordered.”

“B-but...” The stallion made a half-hearted attempt to resist the guards, but it was hardly sufficient to stop them from pulling him away.

“I will interview you later to substantiate your claims,” I assured him. “Eat a proper meal at the inn, and get some proper rest in the meantime. I am not going anywhere soon.”

The stallion said no more as he was carried away. Once he had departed, I turned to the rest of the group. “Now that the claim has been made, I am required to investigate it. I am sure you all understand.”

Freezy snorted. “You are not seriously giving that stallion credence, are you?”

“His claims seem far-fetched,” Shining added.

Émeraude shrugged. “The claim is outlandish and the timing deeply suspicious, but we must be thorough about legal matters of such high importance.”

Rumble snorted but nodded. “If it does turn out to be true, we've all wasted a lot of time and worry. Good thing High is not here, or he would be pissed, whatever the truth.”

“I suggest you relax and await for me to speak with each of you in private,” I told them. “There are a few things I wish to look into first, such as High Stakes’ will.” A look at his will should give at least some indicator on what he wished to be done with Honeyfield. ‘Twould at least give me some legal basis on which to act upon with my decisions, such as how much to give to his illegitimate daughter.

“High Stakes has no will,” Freezy stated.

I blinked slowly and tilted my head. “Excuse me? As a count, he was legally required to have a will.”

Freezy shrugged. “The count did as he liked.”

“Strange,” Émeraude said. “I could have sworn he had made a will.”

“I could find no will amongst his papers,” Freezy said. “I checked when I heard Celestia was sending somepony to determine who would be the next count.”

I frowned deeply. “That is troublesome.”

I had four ponies with claims to become the count or countess of Honeyfield. One was the illegitimate child of the count, but whose mother wanted her to have no part of the title. The second was the late count’s boorish favored cousin. The third was a mare with only a distant claim on the title. The fourth and last was a pony claiming to be High Stakes’ decade-long missing son, who might just be touched in the head. On top of all of that was a guardian fey with her own agenda, a neighboring duke to whom was owed a significant debt, and the count’s missing will.

I had a lot of work ahead of me.

Author's Note

I'd like to thank my editors Chengar Qordath and Comma-Kazie, and my prereaders Trinary, Rodinga, Swiftest, Bronywriter, wolfstorm56, Stupidhand14, Alicorn Priest, and Poison Claw for all their help with putting this story together.

Chapter 2

One could learn a lot about a pony by looking at how they manage their paperwork: their finances, interests, worries, history, and innumerable other things laid bare. It could also be an extremely tedious and slow process, depending on the papers involved.

That was the case with the late Count Honeyfield. High Stakes’ paperwork was a terrible mess.

All around me in the castle’s study were stacked papers and books that I had only just begun to organize—mostly by making one pile of things that were of interest to me and another for things that were not. The room was quite dusty, and I had to delay mine investigation until I had cleared the cobwebs in the corners. Equally dirty and ancient books lined the shelves which covered the wall of the study, and when I first came to the study the desk had been covered by disorganized stacks of papers tall and unsteady enough to be a threat to the life of a small animal or child. It was clear that the room had seen little use for some time.

I had started discontented with the immediate task before me and had only become more displeased as the day progressed. Stalwart stretched his wings, watching as I moved to another stack of papers. “Ah, the unicorn obsession with paperwork rears its head once more.”

“The unicorn who wrote this needed to be more obsessed with his work,” I lambasted. I held up the book I had been reading and a trio of papers slipped out of it to fall to the floor. “These ledgers were written in a most confusing manner. Half the time only the barest information for the county’s income and expenses was written. Mother would have tanned my hide if I my recordkeeping were half this sloppy.”

Subtle grunted as she flipped through the book intended to contain the county’s tax records. “I can't find any patterns here. It's like all the records were just written on random scraps of paper and shoved into a closet.”

“Because half of them were.” I scowled as I picked up the papers from the floor. “Half a dozen pages fell out of this leger when I first opened it.” I held up one of the papers for the others to see. “This is an IOU written by Duke Blackwood, and it has been stained by something. How is anypony supposed to work with this?”

Subtle rubbed the bridge of her nose. “It could take us weeks to sort this out.”

Melancholy overtook me as I found myself agreeing with her. This county needed some serious help organizing all of this. I was tempted to ask Duke Ferme for assistance and allow me to look at his records for how much Honeyfield owed him, though I was cautious of trusting him. With how poor the records here were, the Duke of Blackwood could write just about any amount he wanted Honeyfield to owe him.

What I knew for certain was that Honeyfield owed Blackwood a very considerable sum of money, even if the exact figure eluded me. Some of it consisted of loans to help cover shortfalls to Honeyfield’s budget, something that I was sure had started even before the war, but those figures had only ballooned after the bloody conflict. But what was really hurting Honeyfield’s finances was the truly outrageous gambling debt High Stakes owed Duke Ferme. It was clear that the late count loved games of chance, and ‘twas equally clear that his love was unrequited. A quick overview of the numbers showed that he thought little of betting the equivalent of a normal farming family’s yearly income in a single afternoon.

I had to wonder if High Stakes merely suffered from unusually poor luck or if some darker conspiracy was in the works. ‘Twas possible that Duke Ferme had tricked the count into a series of wagers over the years, mayhaps even cheating during those games, with the intention of using that debt to gain a powerful leverage against Honeyfield. More than one noble family had been forced into sour deals over the centuries due to poor finances.

Stalwart grunted in sympathy for us. “I expect you are tired of hearing remarks like this, but I feel compelled to point out that in Pegasopolis this would not even be a problem.”

“Pegasopolis did not worry about where its food and other supplies came from,” I grumbled, not in a mood to hear of Pegasopolis’ inherent superiority yet again. “'Twas unicorn and earth pony accountants who took care of such things for them.”

“Oh, we had our quartermasters and armorers,” Stalwart countered. “Though ‘twas not what I spoke of. My point was there would not be any debate on who would be the count's heir. The count has a living child.”

“Ah, that..” I rubbed mine eyes as I switched my thoughts from finances to dynastics. “That is a different matter. 'Tis most bothersome that the count does not seem to have a will. But aye, thou hast a point: this matter would be no matter at all if this was Pegasopolis.”

The pegasi had few concerns about the origins of a pony. Whether the product of marriage, passion, passing fancy, or adoption, what mattered most to them was that the child belonged to the parent. Of course, pegasi did not have as much to pass on to their children as earth ponies and unicorns—before the Lunar Rebellion, in any event.

“Perhaps, but that hardly matters,” Subtle said. “We are not solving a Pegasopolan succession dispute.”

Stalwart shrugged. “I suppose not. Still, it sits poorly with me.”

“I admit, 'tis strange that High Stakes did not make Snowfall his official heir,” I mused, setting the ledger off to the side for the moment. “Leaving aside the fact she is not in her majority, she is as good a choice as any to succeed him.”

Subtle frowned. “You have a point. Bastards are normally disregarded from the line of succession, but ‘tis far from unprecedented for one to be legitimized when there are no trueborn heirs.”

I nodded. “I am proof enough of that. Princess Celestia readily accepted me as my mother's heir, and she has done so for many others over the years.” The whole ordeal for me had taken all of a few minutes, and most of it consisted of small talk with Her Highness whilst she read over the necessary paperwork.

Subtle blinked and was quick to speak up. “Oh! Right! I ... I hope you know I meant no offense.”

I waved the matter aside. “No offense was intended or given. I know when somepony intends to insult me with my parentage.” It had certainly happened enough to me over the years. I suspect part of it was intended as slights against Mother, but I could not count the number of times I had heard ‘bastard’ or other titles used in my presence as a denigration. 'Twas very tiring to have to deal with.

“That does raise an intriguing point,” Subtle said, steering the topic back to something productive. “Why has there been no discussion of the count's bas—ah, natural child? With the lack of any trueborn heir, she would certainly be a viable choice.”

“Freezy was quite emphatic about not pushing a claim,” Stalwart answered. “All she desires is enough monday to raise her child in relative comfort.”

“Money,” I corrected, stroking my cheek as I considered the situation laid before me. “Aye, I am curious why she would have no interest in her child raising in her station. There are unicorns who would kill for such a thing—and have, at times.”

“But she is not a unicorn,” Stalwart pointed out.

Subtle’s eyes narrowed. “Need I remind you of the numerous inter-clan succession struggles Pegasopolis experienced over the years? Many pegasi died in the past over who should lead. Ambition is not something exclusive to unicorns, my friend.”

“She is right in that.” There were plenty of examples in history when one pegasus or another had taken exception to a given superior for whatever reason, often resulting in bloodshed. “I would be surprised if Freezy’s position as captain of the Honeyfield Houseguard was unrelated to the fact she was bedding the count.”

Subtle nodded. “It is a time-honored method of advancement.”

I tried not to think too hard about what Mother had said of the advantages such methods could give a mare. Now was not the time for me to become flustered by such things. “‘Tis curious that Freezy would not desire her daughter becoming a countess. Such would secure both of their wellbeing, assuming the county’s finances can be sorted.” I sat back in mine old and slightly dusty seat and crossed mine arms over my chest. “I could advise Her Highness to make Snowfall the heir, but that comes with two problems. The first is that her mother disapproves of the idea, and that is no small barrier. Her protests alone could dissuade the Princess, and she likely could convince her daughter to decline the title when she came of age.” (1)

1. It is the right of any would-be noble to not accept a title of nobility, though such occurrences are uncommon.

“In which case we would be right back where we started,” Subtle said.

“No small issue, since that would promote chaos here.” I sigh. “Which brings me to the second problem: she is not in her majority. Snowfall would require a regent to rule in her name until she is old enough to assume the title herself, which could be a decade or more depending on her exact age And such arrangements have a history of trouble.” Times where children officially ruled were rarely happy times, even when they had fully competent regents to manage affairs.

“Not to mention it would just set everyone who wants the county for themselves to arguing over which of them should be regent instead.” Subtle frowned darkly. “And it provides plenty of time for the child to suffer an ... accident.”

I crossed mine arms, not at all happy with the idea of Snowfall suffering an non-accidental accident. “That might very well be the reason why Captain Freezy does not wish for her child to become countess. Asking for a stipend is a safer option in comparison, especially if she can take her child someplace away from Honeyfield.”

Stalwart nodded. “‘Twould make sense, aye.”

“Mayhaps I should speak with Freezy in person about the issue,” I mused. “I see no point in making a decision without at least trying to discover her motivations.”

“That sounds worthwhile.” Subtle closed her eyes and scratched the side of her head. “Shall I look into the stallion claiming to be the count's trueborn heir?”

“I was thinking to go to town to speak with him myself,” I told her. “Whoever this pony truly is, I wish to gain a proper measure of him.” Whether this so-called High Roller be the true heir, a con, or a madpony, ‘twould be good to know in which category I should classify him.

“Naturally.” Subtle stood up and stretched her back. “But while you talk to him directly, somepony should do a little unofficial digging.”

I thought the matter over for a moment. “I would approve of this. Any more information you could find would be useful. If he is the late count's son, then the matter of the succession will be easy to deal with; if not, then I would prefer to know who he really is. He might be a danger to the noble family of Honeyfield or be in danger from it. Whatever the case might be, I wish to know”

“I admit I am quite suspicious,” Subtle said. “The son has been missing for a decade only to return now? Even in better circumstances, an heir vanishing without a trace is a perfect situation for a deceiver.”

“The timing could not be more suspicious,” I agreed. “And his story for why he was gone is ... unique.”

Stalwart grunted unhappily in agreement. “Reminds me of the time my son insisted he ate a cake to keep an army of monsters from stealing it.”

“If ‘tis indeed a lie, I have heard far more convincing ones over the years.” ‘Twas certainly nothing like what I had seen amongst the master manipulators in Canterlot. Their lies were so carefully crafted that they would be considered masterwork items were they physical objects. If this stallion was a fraud, he was a terrible one. “Go ahead and make thine inquiries. I will stay here a bit longer to grant thee time to work and allow me to prepare ere I meet with him. Something is odd about this, and I would know the truth of it.”

An hour later, I was busy trying to finish up my work in the study when a knock resonated from the door and it opened. Duke Fierte Ferme stepped into the study with the calm assurance typical of an experienced noble.

He gave me a smile that did not reach his eyes. “Hello, Magus. I was wondering if I might have a word in private with thee?” His eyes briefly flicked to Stalwart, who was still at his post by my side.

It was not hard to figure out he must have wanted to talk to me about something he would prefer to keep to as few ears as possible. As anypony with any sense knew that while ‘twas all too easy to overlook one’s followers, servants talked, both among themselves and others. It was thus often necessary to take precautions if the topic of discussion was of a sensitive nature.

Seeing no issue with the duke’s request, I nodded to Stalwart. “I do not think the Duke will attempt to murder me whilst we are engaged in negotiations. If he does, I will put a spear of ice through his chest, and he will watch as his heart’s blood leaks out onto the floor.”

Stalwart stared at me with an expression I could not readily read. “So noted. I will be right outside if you need me.” He saluted me and turned to leave the study, giving Ferme a brief look as he passed him.

After he left, Duke Ferme sat opposite of me, his smile tight as he spoke. “I see thou hast little fear of me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Should I fear you?”

The Duke shrugged indifferently. “Most ponies would not speak of slaying a duke so casually, both for prosperity and fear of upsetting a pony of my distinction.”

“My mother slew a duke once,” I told him coolly. “She reduced his body to a puff of smoke with a single spell.” Whatever a pony’s status or titles, I had found that everypony was more or less vulnerable. Even Her Highness could bleed.

Ferme hummed unhappily. “Aye, something of a pity that had to come to violence. It does not set a good precedent for a duke to be slain outright like that.”

Mine eyes narrowed as I thought back to that foul incident where I had nearly been sacrificed to a dark goddess so that she could destroy everything I cared for. “Duke Line was a traitor and he received a traitor's death. But that is not what we are here to discuss.”

“No, 'tis not.” His eyes turned to the large pile of papers before me. “By the looks of it, thou wasted little time examining High's accounts.”

“I can hardly decide how his estate should be disposed of without knowing what that estate is.”

Duke Ferme nodded. “True. Sadly, I must confirm that my friend owed me substantial debts before his passing, and now I worry that Honeyfield might not have the means to cover them.”

“And I presume you wish some form of recompense for that?” I asked, hoping to get at the heart of the matter. After multiple hours of looking at the late count’s records, I was in little mood to beat around the bush.

“It is only right,” he confirmed. “Though I am willing to be flexible in how I am compensated.”

“Oh?” Ah, now we were getting to what he really desired to talk .

Ferme leaned back and the full self-assurance of his smile returned. “Considering it will be some time before Honeyfield will be able to work its way out of its debt, mayhaps there is another solution. I do have children of marriageable age, and I would be willing to rescind that debt if the new count or countess were to marry one of them. After all, ‘twould make me a poor soul to drive mine own family into poverty.”

So that was his goal. ‘Twas was not money he desired, but to see his grandfoal inherit Honeyfield. That would expand his family’s influence, and potentially bring the noble house of Honeyfield wholly under the Duchy of Blackwood’s control. No small prize, indeed.

“That, I think, would be a matter to settle with whomever claims the county,” I said, temporizing as I considered this new information.

“Mayhaps, but I would be indebted to thee if thou wert to convince the heir to make such a deal with me.” The Duke propped his elbows on the table as he spoke more quietly. “No doubt thou canst see the benefits of having a duke as a benefactor, especially with thine own house having only recently been ennobled.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Are you attempting to bribe me?”

“Hardly so,” the Duke assured me in a manner that did little to reassure. “We are merely ponies seeking to aid another while solving a problem we all wish to see pleasantly resolved.”

“I see.” I kept mine expression carefully neutral. Whatever he said, Ferme was indeed offering me a bribe, even if ‘twas not one paid in bits. Admittedly, ‘twas no small offer; I knew him to be a stallion of power, wealth, and influence, but I was not about to neglect my duties to see the best candidate become the count, whatever promises were offered. I was willing to trade favors under the right circumstances, but here the Duke of Blackwood was merely bribing me to have his way, and I would have none of it.

The Duke sat back in his seat and let out a long sigh. “‘Tis my hope you will be helpful, for ‘twould be unfortunate if I had to approach the Princess to have this debt resolved. Considering how much I am owed, I might even recommend that Honeyfield be added to my domains.”

And so he presented the stick to accompany the carrot. If I did not give him what he wished for, he would go over my head and attempt to grab even more. “Ah. So that is the way of it.” I paused to gather my thoughts. “Tell me, how exactly did the count come to be in your debt?”

Duke Ferme shrugged nonchalantly. “His county has suffered hard times as of late, and I loaned him bits to alleviate his people's suffering. Some generosity can go a long way, especially during lean time as these.”

“And yet, mine own review of the estate's accounts shows no such loans,” I countered. “In fact, his ledger stated that he was giving money to you with all the bets he made against you.” While High Stakes had never been the most organized of accountants, ‘twas plain enough to see where his money had been coming from.

“High did love his game of chances, as many gentlestallions do,” Ferme replied smoothly. “Sadly, his luck did not reflect his love of the games. He never did seem to come out the winner by the end of the night. I tried to encourage him to slow down a bit, but...” He shrugged. “Well, some ponies do not know when 'tis best to quit.”

I was starting to suspect that Duke Ferme had encouraged High Stakes to bet well beyond what he could afford to lose. From what I had discovered, Stakes rarely if ever won his games, and when he did, his winnings never overshadowed his losses. The law of averages said that he should not have had such terrible luck. Neigh, likely he was being cheated by the pony he thought to be his friend. Every month he would accumulate more debt, debt the Duke of Blackwood had apparently not collected so as to encourage the count to keep gambling, all the while holding onto that debt as leverage against him later—or now against his heirs, as things had turned out.

I blinked slowly. “You clearly did not try too hard, since you continued gambling with him and taking his money.”

Duke Ferme’s smile turned stale. “We all have our vices, and 'twas ultimately High's choice to continue. I am sure thy mother would have something to say about not preventing another from making a mistake that is to one’s advantage.”

“So she would.” I stood up from my cushion and briefly stretched my legs. I had heard all I wished to hear from the Duke for now, and now I desired privacy while I considered how best to deal with him and the debt he had noosed around the neck of the county. “I now understand how the situations stands ‘tween the Duchy of Blackwood and the County of Honeyfield. My thanks for your time, but there is other business I must attend to.”

“But of course.” He stood, his insincere smile having returned to his lips. “I am confident we can work together. I see no reason to make this harder on anypony than it needs to be.”

“Indeed so.” I stepped to the door and opened it. “Good day to you, Duke. And I assure you, I will find the best way to deal with your debt.”

After my mildly unpleasant meeting with the Duke of Blackwood, I headed to the town of Glazing with the intention of speaking with the pony who claimed to be the late count’s son. It was thankfully a quick trip to the town with the skycarriage, and soon Stalwart and I were before the town inn where I had instructed the Honeyfield house guard to take the stallion.

Ponies hustled about me as they worked to finish up their business before the sunlight waned. A few of the buildings along the main street of the town appeared abandoned while a couple others seemed to be in poor repair. The town had seen better days, though I noted that at least some business continued to run as a river barge was in the middle of unloading its cargo. The inn before me was named the Sweet Dreams, and also seemed to be doing respectably for itself. A dozen ponies enjoyed their food, drink, and company as I entered.

Among those ponies was Subtle, sitting at a table with a trio of farmers who were enjoying a mug of some beverage. We caught one another’s eyes and I sat at an empty table. Stalwart silently took position by the table. A waiter came by, and I ordered a cup of hot cider so as not to be seen as loitering in the establishment.

Subtle excused herself from the farmers and made her way to my table. She smiled in a easy-going manner as she slid into her seat. “Finally pulled yourself from those boring old ledgers?”

I shook my head. “Hardly boring. I learned several valuable things from them.”

“Anything of particular interest?”

I cast a privacy spell about us to ensure we could speak freely. “It seems the duke played the count for a fool.”

“How much of a fool?” Subtle asked, waving for the waiter. “From what I have heard, our dearly departed count was a kindly sort, and not a pony that demanded much respect from those around him.”

“He encouraged the count to gamble far too much.” The waiter placed cider in front of me, and I sipped it before continuing. “And now Duke Ferme plans to use the count’s debt as leverage against Honeyfield.”

Subtle stroked her cheek. “Hm. You think he deliberately ensnared High Stakes with debt?”

“It seems likely, yes. But right now I wish to know what thou hast learned.”

“Quite a few things.” Subtle leaned forward on the table, an eager grin on her face. “It seems ponies in town do not know what to make of this pony who claims to be High Roller. While he looks something like the count's son, but not overly so, looking far older than a stallion his age should be. That, and he is not the first to claim he was Roller; several ponies have tried to do so in the past and were exposed as charlatans.”

“I suppose that should come as no surprise,” I said. “Many ponies would like to be a count or countess, and there is no shortage of ponies who would deceive their fellow equines.”

“Indeed, and Émeraude was not pleased by the cons.” Subtle grinned impishly. “She made her displeasure known to them.”

Considering Émeraude was a fey guardian of her family, I doubted she had been kind to the ponies who had attempted to fool her. Fey could take that type of thing very personally. “And the count?”

“Each incident seemed to put him into a great melancholy,” Subtle reported. “The first time ponies worried he would destroy himself by hardly eating and not seeing anypony for a straight month.”

“Ah.” I sipped my cider as I contemplated this. “That explains much of why they received this claimant so poorly.”

Subtle nodded. “Aye, the house guard has already tossed him out of the county once when he started trouble. But he seems a determined sort considering he managed to barge his way into the castle to see you.”

“And there is nothing to indicate his claim is true?”

“If he is to be believed, the pirates took away all his badges of nobility, as well as everything else he had by which to identify himself.” Subtle shrugged helplessly. “It has been ten years since he left Honeyfield for the war, so memories are faded on what exactly he looked like. And even then, magic can change a pony’s appearance—even a cutie mark can be faked with the right spells.”

“Then it seems there is no reason to believe his claim,” I stated. There seemed little evidence to believe the stallion, whatever he said. Certainly nothing seemed to be working in his favor.

Subtle took a swig of her mug. “'Twould be simple enough to send him on his way then. No sense entertaining someone who cannot prove he is who he says he is.”

I frowned, not liking the idea of dismissing him out of hoof. “I would speak with him first, to be sure.” It was best to be thorough in this, and I had promised to speak with him when I let him be sent away from the palace. It should at least give me some information of value for my purposes.

“Your choice, but do be careful with him,” Subtle warned. “He might react poorly to another rejection.”

“I think I can handle him if he does,” I said.

Stalwart nodded. “And I will be with her.”

“If that is the case, I will see what else I can dig up.” She rose from the table and winked at me. “Just try and get back to the castle before nightfall. River port towns like these can get rough.”

“I do not think my business will take too long.” I finished my cider and then also stood.

We made our goodbyes, and Subtle left the inn commons while I made inquiries with the innkeeper about the stallion who claimed to be the long-lost son of the count.

‘Twas not long until I was knocking on the door of the room of the mysterious stallion. I needed only wait but a few seconds before the door opened, revealing the pony calling himself High Roller. He smiled widely at the sight of me. “Magus! 'Tis so good to see you!” He opened the door up further so that I could enter. “Please, come in. I have been waiting quite eagerly for you.”

“And I have been looking to speak with you.” I stepped into the sparsely furnished room, Stalwart closely behind me, and Roller closed the door after me. Stalwart took position by the doorway, and I turned to face Roller. “I have come to evaluate your claim to the county of Honeyfield.”

“And I assure you, I am indeed my father's heir.” His eyes narrowed and he looked out his window to Honeyfield Castle. “Whatever those vultures may say, the county is mine by right.”

“If that is so, then you will receive your inheritance,” I assured him. “Howe'er, you should be aware that you are not the first stallion to claim to be the count's long-lost son.”

I could all but hear Roller grinding his teeth. “Charlatans, every one of them. More ponies trying to take advantage of my father.”

I nodded. “Indeed so. But, given the circumstances, I am sure you can understand why we would require proof that you are not simply another one of them.”

Roller hesitated for a moment, and a flash of emotions flickered over his features. “B-but ponies can recognize me! They know my colors and cutie mark at least!”

“Both of which can be faked with magic,” I pointed out. “Either illusions or shapeshifting magic can make one pony look like another.”

“But surely you can discover if such a ploy is being used?”

I frowned and rubbed my chin. “Aye, ‘tis certainly possible. Though I would need to make some preparations to check for sure if there are any magics at work here. I will seek to work on that later, but in the meantime I would ask if you have any other means by which to prove you are who you say.”

“How can we prove I am who I say I am? I fear everypony is plotting to deny me of my birthright.” He shook his head and started pacing about the room. “The thought only serves to raise my choler.”

“And they will succeed if you cannot prove your identity,” I pointed out to him. “Can you think of anything that would lend credence to your claim?”

Roller scoffed and shook his head. “How can I when my family badge and papers were stolen from me a decade ago, and everypony refuses to acknowledge I am who I say I am?!” He stomped a hoof and continued his pacing like an animal trapped in a cage.

“Some family secret only you would know?” I suggested as I watched him pace about the room. “A birthmark that could not be replicated?”

Roller stopped in place, and a smile grew on his lips. “I know the secret passage into the castle! 'Tis how I entered my home when the guards barred me entrance. I also know where my family keeps its secret safe. All the secrets of the castle are known to me.”

“This is a start.” Honestly, ‘twould be more disquieting for him to know these things if he was not who he said he was. But if what he said was true, then it would give me something to work off of. “Perhaps demonstrating that would prove worthwhile. Certainly more so than your previous actions.”

Roller grimaced. “What was I supposed to do, Magus? What would you do to claim what is yours?”

“A great deal,” I admitted, “but I would choose the wisest course to gain it.” Running around desperately proclaiming I was who I said I was would not be my first course of action if I was in Roller’s place. 'Tis the type of thing that made a pony look mad.

Roller sighed and ran a hoof through his mane. “Mine apologies if my conduct has not been to your liking. I am admittedly desperate. I went through so much to return home only to find that Father had passed not but a couple of days before mine arrival, and then to find that my way was barred by the guards who should be aiding me.” He shook his head and resumed pacing.

“I cannot imagine.” I cleared my throat. “I advise writing down anything else you can think of that might improve your case. I will speak with Rumble and Émeraude regarding an evaluation of your claim. I will return to you once I am done speaking with them and the other claimants.”

“I will do so.” He frowned deeply. “Though I wonder if my traitorous uncle will be cooperative. And Émeraude is ... well, she can be difficult during the best of times, and these are not the best of times.”

“They are the only ones who can confirm your identity,” I stated. “I will do what I can with them in any event, for I intend on getting to the truth of this.”

His looked darkened as his eyes narrowed. “Then I pray to you that you can prove I am who I say I am, or a grave misjustice will be done.”

I nodded. “I will do what I can.” Whether that was proving High Roller was who he said he was, or confirming he was a fraud was yet to be seen. But that could only be be discovered with more work. Sadly, I could not confirm it either way right at this moment, but there were still layers of this onion I had not yet reached.

Mine immediate business concluded, I headed to the door. “Good day. We will speak later.”

Rollers ears wilted and his gaze fell to the floor. “Aye, good day to you, Magus.”

As I left the inn room, Roller sat on the bed, his head bowed.

My meeting adjourned with the pony claiming to be High Roller, I returned to the castle to meet with one of the other claimants. While I was far from solving the problem before me, speaking each of them in turn at least gave context to the issue. With a bit more work I might even be able to unwrap this complicated knot. Already I had some ideas on what to do, but I was not yet ready to act on any of them.

It did not take me long to find the next pony I wished to interview. Shining Quest was in the castle parlor working on a painting, having removed her dress lest it be stained by her hobby. In front of her sat a bowl of fruit which she was attempting to recreate on the canvas. I was no expert on such things, but the painting seemed at least adequate, if nothing special—though to be fair, ‘twas not yet complete. Near her sitting on the couch was her stocky earth pony companion. He was busy reading a book and, like his companion, didn't initially notice me or my bodyguard as we entered.

I cleared my throat as I addressed them. “Good day to you, Lady Shining Quest.”

Shining blinked and spun around to face me. “Oh! Good to see you again, Magus.” Her expression of surprise was replaced by a bright smile. “I take it you wanted to see me?”

I nodded. “Indeed so. I have come to speak with you regarding your claim to the County of Honeyfield.”

“Little surprise.” She quickly cleaned her brush and placed it to the side. “Then let us speak about it.”

“Gladly.” I flicked my hoof to encourage her to speak. “Make your case, then.”

“But of course,” Shining said. “I am from a family of nobility and distinction, and one who is related to House Honeyfield. While I might not be the eldest of my siblings, I am available to take over this house and am more than able to run this estate. I have been finely educated, and as I have experience helping run my family's lands, serving as a steward of Honeyfield is well within mine ability.”

“But your bloodline claim is the weakest of the lot,” I pointed out to her. “What legitimacy do you have?”

Her smile lost some of its luster, but she continued speaking with a polite and welcoming voice. “While I might not have the strongest bloodline claim, I am the most capable. While Snowfall is my late cousin's only surviving child, she is but a child, and not ready for the duties that would be thrust 'pon her. And while I do not wish to besmirch Rumble … well, an intelligent and insightful mare such as yourself can no doubt see the problems with him trying to rule Honeyfield.”

‘Twas not poorly argued, and no doubt another would find it a convincing rationale, but there was a significant problem to it. “The law is clear on the matter: the county passes to the proper bloodline heir, not whoever thinks themself most suitable. How distantly related are you to other claimants?” There was also the fact that I had to take her word that she was competent enough for the task, something I could not easily prove right at that moment.

“Significantly, if I must be honest,” she admitted, her smile fading yet further. “I am a sixth or eighth cousin once removed, depending on which part of the family tree you are looking. Though I still come from a family of distinction, and that I can prove for you easily enough.”

“That might be true, but like I said, the law is clear on the matter of succession.” I blinked slowly. “Mayhaps there are a couple of solutions to this succession crisis we find before us. If you are willing to consider it, you could always marry Rumble and rule Honeyfield together.”

Shining frowned slightly and her eyes flicked to her companion. “Rumble is a fair bit older than myself, Magus. That could be ... complicated.”

“You need not make such an important decision right at this moment,” I assured her. “But it is at least one way to solve this argument in a way that would let most everypony be happy. Rumble seems at least moderately disinclined to want to deal with the particulars of rule, which offers opportunities for you if you consider this opportunity. Another option is that you could simply serve as an advisor to the proper ruler.”

Shining grimaced. “'Tis an offer I thank you for giving, but I would desire—”

“Do not be too hasty, Shining,” interrupted her companion. He stood from the couch to address us. “While these deals might not be exactly what you desire, they do have potential.”

Shining’s eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth to speak, but a reproachful glower from the earth pony cut her off. “We can ... hear her out.”

“And you are?” I turned mine attention to the newcomer to the conversation, quite curious as to who this pony was and what his relationship was with Shining. Thus far he had been silent, but now he had entered at the critical juncture of the negotiations.

He smiled and gave me a respectful bow. “Coin Count, at your service. I am a friend of her ladyship, and her advisor. I also represent the Riverwall Consortium, which has some interest in the wellbeing of Honeyfield.”

I inclined my head to him. “A pleasure.” I had heard of the business consortium running out of Manehattan, though that begged the question. “If you will excuse me for dispensing with pleasantries, what brings you to Honeyfield?”

“I do not mind at all,” Coin said, continuing to smile. “In truth, I like being able to get to business when I can. Not that I mind a good chat now and again, but now seems like the time for us to work on a deal.” He pressed his hoof to his face as he cleared his throat. “First, I would advise my friend to take you up on that deal you offered. Though if that deal is less than optimal, there is another prospect I think worth considering.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And what would that be?”

“If you select Snowfall, the late count’s sole surviving child, as his heir then she will require a regent for at least a decade.” Coin turned a sideways look at Shining. “And I know exactly who would be ideal for such a duty.”

“An intriguing proposition.” Making Snowfall the countess was one option I had considered, though it had one significant problem. “The trouble is that her mother objects to the idea of her becoming the countess.”

“Have you spoken with her about the succession yet?” Coin asked.

I shook my head. “Neigh, I have not.”

“Then I suggest you seriously consider doing so,” Coin advised. “Making Shining the child’s regent would be an acceptable compromise. Do you not think so, Shining?” He gave her a meaningful look.

Shining blinked but hurriedly nodded. “Oh! But of course. It would not be my first pick, but ‘tis ... acceptable.”

“I see.” While at first I had given this Coin Count little credit where the succession was concerned, I now suspected he held far more influence than I originally suspected. Considering how readily Shining was demurring to Coin, it seemed that Coin was the one really in charge here, or mayhaps had sufficient influence to tell Shining what plan to go along with. I had seen more than one noble whom had depended heavily on a trusted servant to get anything of worth done. So why exactly was Coin here?

“This is something I will seriously consider,” I said neutrally. “Though naturally I have to speak with the others and see what they think.”

Coin nodded. “Understandable.”

“I do wonder why you are here, Coin.” I tilted my head as I studied him. “You said that you are here representing your business, so what is your purpose? I doubt Shining hired you merely to serve as her advisor or you would have said so.”

There was a sparkle in Coin’s eye. “I am here to look into the potential business ventures here in Honeyfield. For example, I believe I have a solution to Honeyfield's little money problem.”

I flicked my hoof to encourage him. “Go on.”

“The Consortium would be willing to give Honeyfield a loan with a very modest interest rate to help cover its debt,” Coin explained.

Ah, now I saw where this was going. “But, I presume, only if Shining is in a position of prominence in Honeyfield?”

Coin nodded. “I and my superiors know Shining, and know that she is an honorable and good mare who will treat my consortium properly for its aid. I can hardly do the same with a mere child or a stallion with no love for business.”

I frowned with deep suspicion. “I will be frank when I say that sounds unusually generous for a business that would normally seek the best profit it could for its investment. This loan will only earn you a modest profit over a long period of time—a paltry reward for the number of bits we are talking .” And I would make sure that this loan would have a very reasonable rate if I approved the idea. I was not about to give Honeyfield over to a scheme intended to turn everypony into debt-slaves.

“I consider it a long-term investment,” Coin calmly assured me, sounding like he was reading from a script. “Honeyfield has traditionally been a prosperous land, and Shining and I have discussed many possibilities for how it could become so again with some other investments. The loan is merely to make sure that we can act without Duke Blackwood’s interference, and that House Honeyfield will be able to make its own investments in its lands.”

“But you would only make these investments if Shining is put in some prominent position within the county?” I asked, trying to get a glimpse as to what his motives were.

“As I have said, the others are a significantly greater risk as an investment.” Coin shrugged. “One too big for mine associates to seriously consider without Shining being given a position of prominence. We are businessponies, and making a profit is what we do. Just like slaying monsters and dealing with warlocks is yours, if you don't mind me saying.”

There was something he was not telling me, that I was certain. I had seen more than enough machinations at work to know when somepony was scheming, and these two were most definitely plotting. The issue was that I did not know what their plan might be, and discovering what they were up to would require more investigating.

“I see.” In all likelihood, I had heard all of value they would disclose, thus ‘twas time to close the conversation. “Very well then. I will review the genealogical documents, and anything else you might provide to support your case. I will also speak with the others to see if some deal along the lines we have spoken to might be acceptable to them. That is not a promise that anything we have spoken of will happen—merely an assurance that there will be a discussion.”

“Of course, Magus.” Shining opened a bag near her painting stand and smoothly pulled out some papers. “These should be everything you need to confirm my credentials. If there is anything else you need, I am more than willing to be of aid.”

“There is nothing else for now,” I assured them. “I have more than enough to work with right at this moment.”

The early night found me back in the castle’s study sitting at its desk as I perused the county’s papers. It had been my hope that there would be something that would indicate Count High Stake’s wishes for what should be done with his estate, but I had found precious little to give me a glimpse into his mind. We had attempted to find any letters or journal he might have possessed, but there was little of the former and we did not discover the latter. Either he was a stallion who did not like writing, or someone had destroyed those records. It was all quite vexing, especially given the other mysteries I was trying to unravel.

There were a great many secrets in Honeyfield, though mine investigation was producing some results. Facts and context were all being put together to form the picture of the puzzle before me, even if it felt like I only had maybe half the pieces of the puzzle available. Well, I should be able to find some answers once everypony was fast asleep.

I was pulled out of my ruminations when I noticed somepony at the doorway of the study. A small head with white fur and a short-cropped azure mane peaked at me with one of her dark-blue eyes. I raised an eyebrow, and the filly gasped and jerked her head back out of sight.

I blinked slowly, curious why this child acted so. “Come on out, then. I have already seen thee, so thou might as well show thyself.”

The filly slowly poked her head back around the doorframe, but she was not quick to emerge. I pondered how best to deal with this child. I knew not why, but children always seemed frightened of me. It made no sense when I was hardly that formidable or scary ... right? Mayhaps ‘twas merely my title that intimidated ponies. Aye, that would make sense.

Still, I desired to have her approach me. Contemplating mine own experiences as a filly, I remembered how my master, Morning Star, had often gotten me to open up. I pushed the plate of honeycakes that had been sitting in front of me towards the filly. “Come in and have a honeycake. They are quite tasty and I would like to share.”

That seemed to do the trick, for the filly cautiously approached. The small pegasus appeared to be six or seven years of age, and was tall and willowy in build, having none of the muscle of a proper warrior yet. She stopped short of the desk and contemplated the plate of honeycakes. “May I have one?”

I nodded. “Yes, for I am full and could not eat this. 'Twould be a shame for it to go to waste. Dost thou not agree?”

The child finally smiled and devoured a cake near as quickly as she touched it, pausing only after for a belated, “Thank you.”

“Thou art most welcome.” I set aside the ledger to give the filly my full attention. “I am Magus Midnight. Who wouldst thou be?”

“I am Snowfall, milady.” Finding the first honeycake to her liking, she immediately started on another.

“Ah, Snowfall.” Excellent. I had desired to speak with the child without her mother, and now the opportunity had come to me. “I have heard a great deal about thee.”

Snowfall wiped her mouth and tilted her head in befuddlement. “You have?”

I nodded. “Thou art the natural daughter of Freezy and the Count, yes?”

“I am,” she said after a slight moment of hesitation.

I leaned back in my chair to help create a relaxed air. As Mother and Gale had told me, children were often a great source of information if one knew how to use them. They saw much, and were often unnoticed by the adults around them. “What canst thou tell me about thy parents?”

“Oh! Lots!” Snowfall smiled brightly, no doubt pleased that an adult was giving her attention. “Um, Mother is the captain of the house guard, and 'tis her job to protect—um...” Her ears wilted and she turned her gaze from me.

It was a struggle not to grimace, for ‘twas not kind of me to remind her of her father so soon after his death. I stood up from the desk to place a hoof on the child’s shoulder. “I am sorry for what happened to thy father. I realize it must hurt to have lost him.”

I could sympathize with the child. After all, I had never known the mare who had brought me into the world, beyond that she had passed soon after my birth. That much hurt, but likely ‘twas not nearly as painful as the ache that lay in Snowfall’s heart. She had known and loved her father, and now her he had been torn from her at such a tender age.

Snowfall’s shoulders slumped. “I miss Father.”

I guided the child to the couch, settling next to her as I levitated the plate of honeycakes over. “Thou wert close to him?”

She nodded. “Mhm. We'd go on walks through the forest, and visit town where he’d buy me treats, and then he'd play with me, and tell me stories...” A bittersweet smile grew on her lips as she spoke.

I placed a hoof on her shoulder and gave her another cake. “Did he ever say anything about ... thy future?”

Snowfall bit into the cake and spoke with a half-full mouth. “Mhm, he said I was gonna be countess someday.”

I quirked an eyebrow. “Did he now?”

Snowfall nodded vigorously. “That is what he told me—because I am his little princess. That is what he said.” She smiled more brightly for me. “And he said I was gonna be the best countess ever!”

“That sounds lovely,” I assured her. It also gave me an important piece of information. Assuming Count High Stake was being sincere with his daughter, which seemed most likely, then this was the first real indicator I had found for who he wished to succeed him. The issue was that I only had Snowfall’s word on the matter.

“Though I am curious,” I mused out loud. “Wouldst thou like to be a countess?”

Snowfall’s muzzle scrunched up in contemplation. “I am not sure. Mother does not want me to become countess, but Father did. “

“And why does she not want this?” A question I greatly desired to have answered, since the answer to that might hold the key to how to deal with the succession.

Snowfall looked at the honeycake she had been eating, frowning as she did so. “She said it was not safe for me—that unicorns often fight over titles. Also she wants me to be a warrior instead of a countess.”

“I see. Thou shouldst know that one can be both a warrior and a countess,” I informed her. “There are innumerable examples of nobles who have taken the life of a warrior, or some other profession. I am my mother’s heir, and yet I am also a magus and proud of it. Even if thou wert to become a noble, thou wouldst still have some control over thy destiny.”

Snowfall wiped some crumbs off her muzzle and looked up at me. “Really?”

I nodded. “I know it to be so. Though I am curious about what thy father thought.”

“He said somepony needed to take care of Honeyfield after he was gone,” she said. “He told me that somepony of his blood needed to be countess to maintain the Accord with the fey for some reason, which is really, really important because it makes sure all the honey is made and a bunch of other stuff.”

“I see. I shall bear that in mind when making my decision, then. Thou art being most helpful in answering my questions, and for that thou hast my thanks. Especially where thy father’s wishes are concerned.” It at least gave me something on which to reflect upon, and speak with her mother .

“Mhm! Though Mother said I should not tell anypony that Father said that he wanted me to be countess.” Upon those words leaving her mouth, her eyes widened. “P-Please do not tell her I said that! I would get into trouble!”

“Do not worry, it can be our secret.” I smiled to assure her that all would be well; however, instead of the desired effect, Snowfall immediately grimaced and turned her face away from me as though she were staring into the sun itself.

“Good?” she managed to squeak out.

I frowned at the curious reaction of the filly. “Yes, good.” Really, I did not know why children reacted as so around me when I was kind and smiled to them. Mayhaps ‘twas something that would always be a mystery to me.

Snowfall’s eyes gazed about the room and settled on the stack of papers on the desk. “What are you doing?”

“Just going over paperwork,” I told her. “I expect 'twould bore thee.”

“Father said paperwork was reeeally boring,” she readily agreed.

“He was not entirely wrong.” Admittedly, even I could find it tedious at times. Especially when it stood between me and something I desired.

She sat there in silence for a few moments, squirming in her seat as she ate another honeycake. “I heard you were gonna pick the next count. That is what everypony’s been sayin’.”

“I am. Why do you ask?” There seemed no reason to lie to the child, and it might be good to hear what she thought on the matter.

“I was wonderin’.”

That might help explain what had brought the child to try and watch me from hiding. ‘Twas only natural for her to be curious about the pony who might well decide her fate. “And dost thou wish to be the countess?”

Snowfall frowned in contemplation. “Maybe? I do not know for sure. Being a countess is important, but papers are sooo boring. And—”

Freezy entered the room, interrupting her daughter in the process, much to my consternation. “Snowfall, there thou art.” She gave me a polite nod of her head. “Mine apologies, Magus. I am sure she did not mean to bother you.”

I shook my head. “Not at all. She is a most charming young mare.”

“She is my little pride and joy.” Freeze smiled down at her daughter, then picked her up and placed her on her back. “And it is time for my little warrior to go to bed.”

Snowfall put on a most pitiful frown. “Mother, I am not tired.”

“Come now, no arguments. A young filly requires her sleep.” Captain Freezy bowed her head to me. “By your leave, Magus, I need to see my daughter to bed.”

I stood from the couch and nodded. While I wished to speak more with Snowfall, I was not about to argue with her mother about her bedtime. “Of course. While I would like to speak with you, Captain, the hour is late and it can wait until the morrow.”

Freeze stiffened slightly and her eyes flicked to Snowfall. “We can speak tomorrow. Until then, I wish you goodnight.”

“Fare thee well, young Snowfall,” I said. “And you, Freezy.”

Snowfall waved as her mother left to take her to bed. “Goodbye, Magus.”

As they left, I returned to my work. ‘Twould be some time before I would be ready to rest this night.

‘Twas some hours later when I had made my way to my room in the castle. Moonlight flooded in through the windows as I continued my work into the dead of the night, long after anypony else should have gone to bed. Stalwart had also come to our quarters, done socializing with his fellow warrior Freezy, and watched over me as I pushed all the furniture to the sides of the room and drew a circle on the floor with a piece of chalk.

“Is there anything you need, Magus?” Stalwart asked, watching as I did my precise work.

I finished my circle and contemplated my handiwork, ensuring the circle was unbroken. “There is something thou canst do.” I pulled a rune-covered silver bell out of my saddlebags and levitated it to my bodyguard. “I will be entering a trance in order to walk the Dreamscape, and I will need somepony to watch o'er my body as I do so. If anything should go awry, ring this bell. It should immediately awake me from my trance.”

This struck me as a wise precaution when I ventured into the Dreamscape from anyplace that was not absolutely secure. As long as my spirit was within that strange realm, I would hardly be aware of what was occurring to my body. No small risk when anyone could sneak up on me and slit my throat, cutting the veins and arteries within and spraying my blood across the room in uneven, pulsing arcs like a misaligned well pump. Thus, I had made this enchanted bell that would catch mine attention even from deep within the Dreamscape.

Stalwart took the bell and looked it over. “That is all I need to do, ring it?”

“Yes,” I said. “It struck me as counterproductive to make it any harder to use. Especially when I may not know to whom I might have to give it.”

“I can do this for you,” Stalwart stated.

“Good, then I will continue with my plan.” I reexamined my circle one last time and then lay within it.

‘Twas plain that the ponies around me were keeping their secrets from me. I could only guess what some of those secrets were, but I had every intention of discovering them by entering the Dreamscape. The minds of ponies were far less guarded while they slept, and thus gave me the opportunity to learn their deepest desires. Admittedly, this was a somewhat questionable form of magic; invading the mind of another was strictly forbidden under the Laws of Magic, but what made what I was about to do technically legal was that I was not really invading anything. The minds of all touched upon the Dreamscape, and ‘twas there that I can interact with the mind of another.

The problem was that not every magus in Equestria would agree with mine interpretation of the law, seeing what I was to do as breaking the spirit of the laws, if perhaps not the letter. (2) Of course, I was not going around telling everypony exactly what I was doing, and I could trust Stalwart’s discretion on this matter. Another issue was that there were any number of dangers with using oneiromancy. There were nefarious spirits within the Dreamscape, I could get my spirit trapped within that strange realm, and within another pony’s dreams I would be at a disadvantage should a conflict arise. This was not a magic to use lightly.

2. After Queen Luna’s banishment, many magi moved to make oneiromancy illegal altogether, if only with partial success. They believed that Luna’s fall was proof that the magics she favored were inherently dangerous and led to a pony’s inevitable corruption. It wasn't until after Midnight became an archmagus that the laws regulating oneiromancy were reconsidered in any serious light.

My course decided, I closed mine eyes and drew on my magic. I felt a lurch in my very being as the spell took hold, and opened mine eyes to find myself within the Dreamscape. All about me was an inky black void, star-like points of light dotted the vast space, the only unusual point of interest being the platform of stars that I now stood upon.

“Looking to make use of what I have taught thee?” a familiar voice asked from behind me.

I turned to face the familiar form of Corva. The raven dream-spirit appeared in an equine shape—if one covered with feathers as dark as the void around us—eyes like black pearls, and a short beak. “Naturally,” I announced simply. ‘Twas not a surprise to see her. This was her natural plane of existence, after all, and she had been teaching me much about it in addition to a range of other magics.

The corners of her mouth turned up in a smile. “Well then, what didst thou have in mind?”

“There are hidden agendas at play, and I aim to uncover them,” I told her. “Most of them guard their secrets well in the waking world. But in their dreams...”

Corva nodded. “Everypony is vulnerable in their dreams. All of those in Honeyfield Castle have their secrets and desires, and 'tis thy task to discover the ones relevant to you. Do that, and thy path will be plain before thee.”

“So I have heard. Let us put that to the test.”

Corva waved a hoof, and illusions of all the potential heirs appeared before us. “Who wilt thou investigate first?”

I frowned deeply as I considered mine options. “Coin Count, I think. His agenda is the most mysterious.”

“A fine choice.” Corva waved away the other illusions and they dissipated like so much sand in the wind. “For what thou dost not know is the most dangerous. A threat known is one thou canst prepare for, but the hidden dagger strikes unseen.”

“Those were mine own thoughts,” I agreed. “There is something queer in Coin’s interest in Honeyfield, and I would know his heart’s desire.”

Corva stepped to the side and revealed a score of star-clad roads behind her. “Show me what thou hast learned.”

I concentrated and cast my next spell. There was another lurch and I found myself floating above my body in the castle. Stalwart continued to watch over me while I remained in my trance, and nothing seemed amiss apart from the strange sensation of watching myself. A quick glance at my hoof showed it to be translucent, my psychic form now being an astral projection that would allow me to wander the physical world without being easily noticed.

Astral projections such as this were extremely difficult, both in terms of the skill needed and the strains it put on mind, body, and soul. Thus, I wasted little time to find mine objective. Passing through the walls of the castle as though through mist, I combed the rooms of the castle until I found the bedroom I desired. The merchant Coin Count was sleeping peacefully and did not stir as I approached him.

I placed a hoof on his head and closed mine eyes as I concentrated, probing for his dreams so that I might enter them. It was not long before I felt his presence within the Dreamscape, and with an effort of will, I transitioned back to the Dreamscape to enter his dreams.

I blinked as the world suddenly became bright, and I found myself in what appeared to be a small office. The bustle of ponies and carts rolled in from outside, and a glance out the window revealed a large city. Probably Manehattan, considering that is where Coin said he was from. The fact that most of the populace was made up of earth ponies certainly supported this guess. Of course, one had to be careful about how much one read into what one saw in the Dreamscape, considering so much was often based on the skewed memories of the subject’s dreams.

Thankfully, Coin did not notice me even though I stood but a few steps from him. I had desired to keep my presence hidden for now, as a great many complications could happen should Coin realize I was perusing his dreams. I would have to be careful to ensure that my magic kept me invisible to him; the main reason a pony’s mind was vulnerable while dreaming was that their thoughts are not guarded, and that advantage would evaporate should the subconscious become aware of the intrusion, and the conscious mind awakened to deal with the threat.

That all being the case, I passively watched the dream for a time. 'Twas not long before an older mare stepped into the office, frowning as she looked at Coin. “Coin, thou hast been working all day now. 'Tis past time thou went outside.”

Coin turned to the mare. “But Mother, I am—”

“Now, Coin.” Coin’s mother smiled despite her firm tone and gently prodded him away from his desk. “Besides, thy friends are waiting for thee.”

Coin grumbled and then went to the front door of the home. He opened the door and crossed the threshold, seamlessly transforming into a colt when he did so. Outside were half a dozen children, one of whom I recognized as Shining Quest at a far younger age. They all greeted one another and ran off to play a game of ball whose rules I did not immediately recognize.

“Ah, so Shining was a childhood friend?” I mused out loud. “Interesting, but perhaps not what I need.”

“Then dig deeper,” Corva told me as she stepped up from behind me. “Try and nudge the dream in the direction you desire. Ponies’ dreams are portals to what plagues their thoughts during the day, for it is here that such worries are subconsciously organized.”

I tilted my head. “And how would I do that?”

“We are in a realm where the mind shapes reality.” She nodded at Coin. “Here, fantasies can become reality. Set up the stage and the actors will play their parts.”

“I see.” I narrowed mine eyes as I digested this information. What I desired to know was what Coin intended for Honeyfield. Once I knew that, it should not become difficult to figure out what he was attempting by supporting Shining Quest.

All of that in hoof, I closed mine eyes and exerted my will and magic on the Dreamscape. The matter of this realm was mutable to those that knew what they were doing, and I felt it shift around me as I imagined a scene that might provoke Coin to reveal his intentions. When I next opened mine eyes ‘twas in the Castle Honeyfield’s courtyard. Coin stood before me in the suit of a well-doing merchant while Shining was opposite of him in a fine dress and the badge of Honeyfield on her breast. Off to the side was a copy of myself with Snowfall and Freezy, and my copy was busy bestowing the badges of office on Snowfall.

Shining smiled brightly for her friend. “We did it Coin, thy plan worked!”

“I knew it would,” Coin boasted, rubbing his hoof on his breast. “And with thee as regent of Honeyfield...” He turned, and suddenly there were a dozen carts, each overflowing with sparkling gems. Coin’s eyes sparkled almost as much as the gems as he scooped a hooffull of the precious stones.

Shining hugged him and made an undignified sequel of excitement. “Look at it all, Coin! We are rich!”

Coin hugged his friend back. “I told thee that there was a gem deposit here in Honeyfield. We just needed to get at it without House Honeyfield getting all the profits.”

Shining puckered out her lips in a pout. “Thou art going to let me and my ‘family’ have some of it though, right?”

Coin made a casual wave of his leg. “Of course, of course. It would be suspicious if thou gave me a deal that let the consortium net all the profits of the mine, and there will be more than enough wealth to go around for everypony. Besides, we do not want to give the Blackwoods the opportunity to move in on our territory.”

Shining smiled, now covered in expensive jewelry. “Right, but with the new mine we should be able to deal with them without issue.”

I frowned as I watched the scene before me. “‘Twould seem that wealth is Coin’s desire. Little surprise when he is a merchant representing a Manehattan consortium.”

Corva nodded. “Bits are at the heart of the actions of many ponies. After all, what pony does not desire a comfortable lifestyle with good food, a fine home, and all their immediate desires fulfilled?”

“Those who do not are rare and few inbetween.” As Mother had always told me, give the average pony a full belly, a roof over their head, and some extra bits in their pockets for entertainment and they would be more or less content. That did not even get into how many crimes and other misdeeds were committed because of money. Most of the court cases I had seen involved bits in some manner, so the idea that Coin’s motivations involved a gem deposit somewhere on Honeyfield lands was not surprising.

I was curious how he had discovered the deposit without the Honeyfields catching wind, but there were any number of spells that could help with that in addition to more mundane methods unicorns and earth ponies had developed. More important was that Coin was convinced there was a deposit to be had. This was going to be information I would need to contemplate before acting upon.

Coin grinned and poked Shining’s side. “Do not be worried. Thou wilt be doing quite well for a potter’s daughter.”

Shining grinned back. “I do get to rule Honeyfield—at least until that child grows up.” Her smile fell.

“We will deal with that problem in good time,” Coin answered with an uncaring wave. “We have better than a decade to work with, and we have plenty of options however the winds blow.”

Mine eyes narrowed, for I did not particularly like how unconcerned he sounded about the fate of Snowfall, to say nothing of the fact he was keeping valuable information from me. Such things did not engender trust where I was concerned.

Shining shrugged and turned a smile to her leg as she examined a gem-encrusted bracelets around her ankle. “Still, this is not bad for a potter’s daughter, aye?”

“Not at all, my friend.” Coin looked her over with an admiring eye. “This suits thee far better than being covered in clay all day.”

I raised an eyebrow. “A potter's daughter?”

Corva leaned her head towards me to whisper. “Try and move with the momentum of that thought. Moving with the tides of thoughts can reveal much during a time such as this.”

Following her advice, I focused mine attention of the idea of Shining being a potter’s daughter, blue magic misting from my horn as I molded Coin’s subconscious. The world around us changed to the inside of a potter’s shop. Shelves lined with ceramics ranging from pots and cups to plates surrounded me. At the far end of the room sat a counter, and behind that a trio of ovens and a mare applying a skilled hoof to create a pot out of wet clay. Besides her sat a Shining on the cusp of maidenhood, busy helping the older mare whom I assumed was her mother making goods for their store. For his part, Coin leaned on the opposite side of the counter.

“So, think thou wilt like being a regent more than making pots all day?” Coin asked with a grin.

Shining shrugged, rubbing a clay covered hoof against a sweat drenched brow. “'Tis not that bad.”

“Aye, but thou canst do that in thy spare time if thou enjoyest such work,” Coin pointed out. “In the meantime, thou canst help me and my siblings with our plan to make all of us very rich. Of course, what we really need for it to work is a unicorn who can convince everypony she is noble born—with the right training, of course. We already have an impoverished noble house willing to work with us to forge the documents we need in exchange for the necessary bits to ward off their creditors.”

Shining rubbed her chin, now back in the dress she had been wearing earlier. “How rich are we talking about?”

“Curious,” Corva mused. “It seems that Coin is quite the schemer, and a bold one at that.”

“Indeed so,” I agreed as the dream unfolded before us. “I will need to find usable evidence to corroborate all this, but now that I know his intentions and the basics of his plot, confirming it should be a relatively simple matter.”

“It is a start,” Corva agreed. “Mayhaps if we trigger the right memories we could—”

A sharp, unignorable ring of a bell slammed into my very being. All my hairs stood up on end, and I knew that it could be but one thing: Stalwart had seen reason to wake me.

I looked to Corva with a severe frown. “Mine apologies, Corva, but I need to go.”

“Go,” she said, the single word sounding like an imperious command from her.

I wasted no time exiting the Dreamscape, and I fell right through the floor of the potter’s shop and found myself plummeting through that strange realm as my spirit sought to return to my body. For a long moment it felt as though I was falling through an endless, starry void as some irresistible force pulled on me. Then, as though jerked to a sudden stop, I found myself back within my body, drawing in a deep gasp as my vision swam.

“Magus, are you well?” a voice asked which I vaguely recalled as belonging to Stalwart.

I took a couple of seconds to orientate myself. The transition between the material plane and the Dreamscape could be hard on a pony, especially when one wasted no time for the journey than was absolutely necessary to keep my very soul from being shattered to a thousand independent shards that would go on to scream in unending agony as an eternity passed by and each fragment slowly went mad.

Once I was confident I was in control of my faculties again, I answered my guardian. “Aye, I am fine. Why didst thou ring the bell?”

“There has been some sort of commotion.” Stalwart looked to the door and there was a tension in his wings as the moonlight reflected off his wingblades. “I know not what, but I suspect it has awoken the entire castle.”

“Then let us see what this is .” Part of me was irritated to have my work disrupted, but I trusted Stalwart to know when to pull me from the Dreamscape. Thus, I pulled my cloak around my shoulders and exited the bedroom to investigate.

It was not hard to discover the source of the trouble. The ponies inhabiting the castle were all heading in the same direction, as though drawn by some invisible force. As I neared the source of the disturbance, though, some started moving in the opposite direction I was going, their eyes wide and faces white. Still, there was a crowd gathered in front of one of the doorways, and each pony was busy trying to see what we inside or whispering to one another.

Not wishing to wait for the crowd to disperse on its own, I whispered to Stalwart. “Help me to see what is transpiring.” I then raised my voice to command the ponies about us. “Everypony, let me through.”

Between Stalwart’s bulk and mine authority, we managed to work our way through the crowd without too much trouble. Soon I was before the doorway and saw what had caused the disturbance. The bedroom was in shambles, the furniture was overturned and the window smashed in, littering the floor with glass and refuse. But all of that was mere details to what drew mine eyes.

Shining Quest lay dead on the floor in a pool of her own blood, her throat a bloody ruin as her terrified, blank eyes stared off into nothing.

Author's Note

I'd like to thank my editors Chengar Qordath and Comma-Kazie, and my prereaders Trinary, Rodinga, Swiftest, Bronywriter, wolfstorm56, Stupidhand14, Alicorn Priest, and Poison Claw for all their help with putting this story together.

Chapter 3

My thoughts whirled as I stared at Shining Quest’s corpse. I pushed aside my shock with a force of will as several screams sounded behind me. Drawing upon my learning and experience, I turned to Stalwart. “Keep everyone out of this room. I would not have the scene of this murder tainted by ponies wandering about and destroying evidence.” After a moment’s consideration, I added, “And do not allow anypony to leave either. Somepony might have seen something.”

The sergeant nodded. “Of course, Magus.” He turned in the doorway and set to it with seasoned efficiency.

That taken care of, I returned mine attention to the room, my horn lighting as I bathed the room in blue light, taking in the details one at a time: Glass from a broken window lay scattered about the floor. Tear marks in the carpet that worked their way from the window and towards Shining’s corpse. The furniture between Shining and the window had been knocked to the side. The corpse itself lying on the floor near the wall adjacent to the window.

I carefully approached the corpse and examined it with a spell. The cause of death was readily evident: her throat was a ruin, and had opened her heartsblood into a pool which stained the carpet. ‘Twas not a clean wound like one left by a slashing dagger, but a torn mess that must have been infinitely painful ere her swift and inevitable passing. The nearby furniture, walls, and floor had also been sprayed by blood when her throat had been opened up. Further examination showed additional wounds—a trio of light gashes adorned her side, along with other nonlethal smaller slashes and bruises. Neigh, Shining had been slain by a singular and terrible wound.

I stepped to the window, mindful of how the glass had fallen, and poked my head out into the night air. The room was on the second floor of the castle, and I saw no one outside. The full moon lit the area, so either there was no one out there or they were well hidden amongst the shrubbery and apiaries surrounding the castle.

Looking down, something of note caught mine eyes. A magical globe of light illuminated a series of gashes along the stone walls. It was difficult to tell from my vantage point, but it seemed they made their way straight up the castle wall.

Before I could consider what to do next, a cry of anguish sounded from behind me. “Shining!”

I turned to see Shining’s patron, Coin Count, trying to break his way past Stalwart. While Coin’s efforts were frantic and desperate, Stalwart was the larger pony and a warrior besides. “Shining!” he called out once again. “What happened to her?!”

Seeing that the merchant was bound to hurt himself if he kept trying to force himself past Stalwart, I turned to address him and the other ponies gathered by the doorway. “Shining Quest is dead,” I informed them.

Coin jerked as though struck and ceased his struggle with my bodyguard. “What? N-no, it cannot be. Let me see her!” He pushed against Stalwart with renewed vigor, but the guardpony held him back.

“I cannot allow that,” I informed him. “I am investigating this murder and cannot have thee disrupt the scene of the crime.”

“You cannot prevent me from seeing my friend!” Coin exclaimed. “I will not believe she has passed until I have seen her myself!”

I worried I would need to use some spell to restrain Coin, but before I was forced to such action Captain Freezy Hail forced her way through the crowd along with a squad of the house guard. I wondered why it had taken them so long to arrive. Mayhaps Freezy had been far from the incident, or mayhaps not. ‘Twas too soon to say yet.

She nodded to a pair of the guards and motioned for them to assist Stalwart. “That is quite enough. Cease this display ere I am forced to toss you in the dungeon for the night.”

That took the fight out of Coin, his struggles ceased and his ears wilted. “But Shining...”

“She is gone,” I firmly told him. “Her throat was torn out, her life’s blood splattered all about the floor during her last desperate struggles to—”

Stalwart loudly cleared his throat. “Magus, I do not think he needs to hear the details of his friend’s death. Especially one so ... macabre.”

“Aye?” I looked to Coin, his face now so deathly pale that he seemed ready to faint away. Mayhaps Stalwart had a point. He usually had a better grasp than myself about giving this type of news to ponies, for whatever reason. “Very well then. My condolences, Coin Count, but I assure thee I am quite capable of identifying a corpse when I have seen one. I have seen many corpses during my life and possess magic to confirm when somepony has passed from this life. Shining is quite beyond anypony’s help now.”

Coin’s eyes widened as he stared at me “But, but—”

Freezy cut him off. “If the magus says there is nothing to be done, then the matter is settled.” Coin attempted to raise a further objection but Freezy firmly overrode him. “Coin, allow my fellow guards to take you to the parlor to absorb what has occurred.” She turned her gaze to the the crowd gathered. “That goes for the rest of you too. I will inform everypony what exactly has occurred after I have examined the room and made sure that the castle grounds are safe.”

The presence of a bloodied corpse naught but a few steps away from us firmly announced that the castle was far from safe. Especially if what I suspected about what had slain Shining was true. Still, while there was a murmur of discontent amongst the crowd they dispersed and allowed the guards to corrall them to the parlor.

After they had all departed, Freezy turned to the door and entered the room of the corpse. “I take it you have already looked around, Magus?” she asked, not bothering to look in my direction as she addressed me.

“Aye, I have already examined the room and the corpse,” I confirmed. “While I suspect I have seen everything of note, I still wish to go over the room more carefully.”

“Why?” Freezy’s gaze shifted from the corpse to the broken window. “It seems pretty obvious what happened: something came in through the window and then slew Shining. What more need be said?”

I raised my nose as I addressed the house guard captain. She was right that the creature which had slain Shining must have come in through the window, for the glass shards had fallen into the room rather than outside. Still, I did not appreciate her lack of attention to detail. “I desire to be thorough in mine investigation. There might be other clues that might escape a cursory glance, such as what had caused Shining’s sudden and agonizing death.”

Freezy narrowed her eyes. “And what have youdiscovered?”

“A great deal, if not as much as I desired.” I stepped over to Shining and pointed to her wounds. “Whatever manner of creature responsible used teeth and claws to slay her. It climbed up the side of the wall, its claws allowing it to gain purchase as it dug into the stone before breaking through the window, as thou noted. Shining had been surprised by the sudden onslaught, for she backed away from the beast with either herself or her attacker knocking over the furniture between the window and where she was slain. It probably pounced on her after it had cornered her and then drove her to the ground to do its grisly work. Her throat wound could only have been caused by a bite, and the slashes along her side show where the beast held her still while it delivered the coup de grace. That is a common method of slaying prey to many predators.”

Freezy frowned deeply. “And then it fled back from whence it came?” She stepped to the window, looking out it to see the moonlit landscape beyond.

I nodded. “Aye, likely so. There are blood drops leading from the corpse and to the window.”

“Then ‘tis likely some monster,” Freezy said, her wings twitching. “I can scarcely imagine anything else could do this.”

“‘Tis likely,” I agreed. “But there is something curious about this bloody business.”

Stalwart raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

“Look at the corpse.”

Freezy returned to look at Shining. “What about it? The killing wound is obvious. There is no mystery here.”

I shook my head. “I disagree. Tell me, why would a typical monster attack a pony in such a fashion?”

Stalwart frowned in contemplation. “Normally when a pony is attacked by a monster, ‘tis either because it is hungry or because the pony intruded upon its territory.”

“That is so, at least whenever ‘tis a monster that is purely driven by beastly urges. But look at Shining’s corpse.” I pointed at her belly. “Whatever attacked her did not tear open her belly and seek to consume her organs and their valuable nutrients. Neigh, the only major wound she suffered was the one to her neck. Whatever beast slew her must have been at least the size of a pony, and thus would not have been sated by that one bite. Not after all the effort it took to climb up the castle wall.”

Freezy pursed her lips as she digested this. “That is ... true. Though mayhaps ‘tis merely that the monster was scared off when the castle was stirred into action.”

“‘Tis possible, but I think it unlikely,” I said. “This creature was not so scared of ponies that it was dissuaded from attacking somepony in this castle, despite all the obvious signs of pony activity around here. Though pray tell, has there been news of any other incidents like this in Honeyfield or the surrounding communities?”

Freezy shook her head. “Nothing like this. We have had to deal with the odd manticore or timberwolf pack, but this is something quite different. I daresay that this will cause no small ruckus all throughout the countryside once word spreads.”

“No doubt,” I said. The murder of a self-described noblemare inside the home of one of the great houses of Equestria would cause no small stir, even if for no other reason than the unusual nature of the event. “So we can assume that rumor would have spread like wildfire if this had been occurring elsewhere. There would be a great outcry if some great beast was breaking down the doors of ponies and slaying the occupants therein, yet we have heard of is no such thing. With that in mind, I must assume that this is an isolated incident to just here in Castle Honeyfield.”

Freezy’s eyes narrowed. “What does that tell us? Is this creature targeting the castle specifically?”

I rubbed my chin as I considered the facts before me. There were still a great many unknowns, but there were truths coming to the surface in this mystery. “‘Tis possible the occupants of this castle were targeted, or mayhaps just Shining. ‘Twill be too soon to tell until we identify the monster or it attacks more ponies.”

Freezy’s wings snapped out. “I am not about to let this creature kill more ponies! I will rouse the full strength of the house guard, and we will run down and destroy this monster!”

I turned my head to the broken window and the darkness beyond. “I would advise ‘gainst that course of action. At least just yet.”

Freezy drew herself up to her full height and stalked over, her disdainful visage towering over me. “And why is that, Magus? If I say the guard is to go forth and seek battle, then they will do so.”

I narrowed mine eyes, not appreciating her attempts to intimidate me. “Mayhaps thou canst do so, but such a venture is unlikely succeed at this late hour. Likely ‘tis a nocturnal hunter we deal with, considering it ambushed Shining during the middle of the night. Not only will it be harder to find the beast in the darkness, but it will be at its strongest, while your soldiers will be weary and all but blind. Thy pegasi will lose many of their advantages if they try and follow this beast’s tracks.”

Freezy’s wings twitched. “That is perhaps true, but we must hunt this monster down ere it hurts anypony else.”

“That I wholeheartedly agree with,” I assured her. “But we must do so intelligently, lest we lose more ponies by squandering our advantages.”

“Then what do you propose?”

I considered what resources we had at our disposal. “We wait until the morn to seek this monster. Hopefully it will be asleep by then, and if we are lucky there will be a trail to follow to its lair. Failing that, my magic should suffice to discover it. Am I correct in assuming that Rumble’s hounds are trained to track?”

Freezy nodded. “Aye, they are.”

“Excellent.” I clapped my hooves together. “Then I recommend you have a patrol of thy ponies guard the castle throughout the night and ensure the beast does not linger nearby. I also suggest sending a squad of thy soldiers to Glazing to make whatever arrangements needed to safeguard the town from the predations of this beast.”

Freezy’s eyes narrowed. “Need I remind you that I am not under thy command? I answer only to House Honeyfield.”

“And House Honeyfield answers to Her Highness,” I countered, growing tired of the mare’s contrariness. “And I am an agent of Princess Celestia, and mine authority supersedes thine own. In case there is any ambiguity, I am taking charge of this investigation and I expect thy cooperation in both hunting down this monster and protecting the ponies of this county. Am I understood?”

Freezy visibly stiffened and when she spoke ‘twas through gritted teeth. “Aye.”

I nodded. “If thou hast any objections to mine instructions, raise them and I will heed, but elsewise do not squander time. Thou wilt do as I have said and more. I wish for thee to have a troop of thy best guards mustered at first light.”

“Will you be retiring for the night in until then, Magus?” Freezy asked with a deep scowl.

I shook my head. “I shall question everyone in the parlor. Mayhaps somepony saw or heard something that will be of aid.”

Stalwart was next to speak. “We should also make arrangements for Shining’s body.”

I frowned slightly. “Aye, see if a couple of servants can be roused to see to it that she is cared for as best as can be done.”

While there was little that could be done for the recently dead, there was still work to be done for the living.

Hours of interviewing the ponies in Honeyfield Castle proved to be a largely fruitless endeavor. The first pony whom had entered Shining’s room after her death had done so because she had heard a great ruckus shortly followed by a scream. She claimed she had seen nopony but Shining herself, already dead, and had been given such a fright that she had fled the room. Though the fact she had been found hiding within her own quarters with the door locked put some suspicion on her intentions to procure help.

Interviews with others yielded no better results. My growing frustration with the lack of success in finding out anything of value was only compounded by the ceaseless barrage of questions about what I knew. This was all the more annoying when I had already told everypony all I felt confident about telling them, namely that some monster had slain Shining Quest and that measures were being taken to deal with the matter. Apparently mine assurances had not been nearly enough to calm everypony gathered, and thus every imaginable detail had been demanded of me. The matter was not helped when Duke Blackwood demanded to know why I was bothering everypony with questions instead of going out and slaying the beast right that moment.

By the time I had grown exhausted with asking my questions and dealing them in kind, I had decided to return to my room. The whole experience made me far more sympathetic towards Mother, and I had a greater appreciation of her foul moods after dealing with so many ponies in such a manner. My patience had long been overstretched after being asked for the hundredth time what monster had attacked Shining.

I was quite weary by the time I was ready to retire. It had taken some convincing to make Stalwart go to bed instead of staying up until the morning. It had not been until I had assured him that I would cast alarm wards over my room that he finally relented. I wanted him to be at his best the next day. ‘Twould not do for my bodyguard to be dragging himself about in a half-dead state when there was a monster to slay.

Thus it was to my surprise and growing irritation to find Émeraude already in my quarters. She gave me a wry grin as she sat on my bed, one that I desperately wished to sink into. It had been a long day, and the next promised to be longer still, but I could hardly ignore one of my hosts. Especially when she occupied my bed.

Émeraude spoke as I entered, her tone bright and welcoming despite the late hour and what had occurred earlier in the night—or rather, earlier this morning. “Greetings, Magus Midnight. I hope you are not so eager to get to bed that you cannot speak with me for a time.”

I narrowed mine eyes and tried to keep the irritation out of my voice. “Not so eager that I would try and sleep in my bed while you lie in it.” Admittedly, I was curious why the fey was here in my quarters. I doubted she merely wished to exchange pleasantries after the night’s foul events.

Émeraude chuckled and stretched herself across the mattress, seemingly delighted at mine irritation. “I for one do not think that such an unpleasant idea.” Her eyes flicked over me as she kept up the wry smile of hers. “You are more than comely enough to entice me.”

I took a step back and felt my cheeks burn. “D-did you come merely to try and seduce me?”

The fey hummed to herself and stroked her cheek. “Tempting, but neigh. First, there are other things to speak of.”

Regaining my mental balance, my eyebrow raised. “And what are those things?”

“Can you not guess? I can see the intelligence that sparkles behind your eyes, and I would hate to think that you do not use it.”

“I can guess, but that does not mean I would be right,” I said. “Still, ‘tis not hard to imagine that you wish to speak about the events surrounding Shining’s death.”

“That sounds like a reasonable guess,” she agreed with a nod.

“Indeed.” I examined her closely, trying to gain a measure of the fey—not an easy thing to do when many amongst the fey were natural deceivers. “Though I cannot help but note that you do not seem overly concerned about the death of one of your guests under your roof.”

Émeraude shrugged. “Mayhaps I have reasons not to.”

Taking a stab at Émeraude’s behavior, I asked, “Such as the fact that Shining came under your roof under false pretenses?”

Émeraude’s smile widened. “You have uncovered the truth already?”

I sighed and took off my cloak, placing it on a nearby hook against the wall. “A truth I would have discovered far quicker if you had told me she was an imposter at the start. ‘Tis within your domain to tell who is and is not of your blood, aye?”

She nodded. “Your knowledge is of course what one should expect of a magus. But alas, you know the rules of the fey: I cannot simply give what I know so readily.” Something twinkled behind her eyes. “Not without an equal exchange.”

“And knowing Shining was not a true member of House Honeyfield would have meant no small amount to me...”

“Indeed so.” Émeraude stretched and then climbed out of the bed. “It really can be irritating. Sometimes even a fey just want to come out and say something, but we are shackled by our natures.”

“Of course, you are not telling me anything I do not already know,” I pointed out.

“And thus what I am saying means nothing to you, and is hardly an exchange,” Émeraude agreed. “Still, sometimes reminders are useful.”

Sensing she desired something from me, I carefully reexamined our conversation. ‘Twas worth bearing in mind that the fey could not lie, though they could deceive in any number of ways. They could imply, misdirect, omit facts, state things in the form of questions, and avoid answering a question directly. I needed to be careful, for I might be wading into a dangerous game by talking with one of the sidhe.“There is something you wish to tell me, but you cannot just come out and say it?”

Émeraude’s smile became a feline grin that flashed her teeth. “I knew you were a sharp one. ‘Tis good to hear that you will be of use to me. I was beginning to worry.”

I pursed my lips. She wanted me to know something, but what? “Does this have something to do with Shining’s death?”

“Do you have another explanation for why I am here?” Émeraude asked as she walked past me and into the living room of the guest quarter.

“That is what most readily comes to mind,” I said, following after her. “Do you know what killed Shining?”

The fey turned to face me, and her yellow eyes seemed to glow in the darkened chamber. “What is that information worth to you?”

I felt a familiar hiss within the back of my mind. “Careful, Midnight. Thou walkst on thin ice,” Queen Corva said. “The slightest misstep with the fey can lead to disaster.”

“I am aware,” I thought back at her. “I am no fool.”

“But you are curious,” Corva shot back. “And she knows it. I can sense it in her, and her kind knows how to prey on mortal weaknesses. They crave to do so, for it is their nature.”

Warning in mind, I turned my full attention to Émeraude. “What is it you desire? All fey have their price.”

Émeraude tsked and shook her head. “‘Twill not be that easy, I am afraid. How much it is worth to you is tied into what I can sell it for.”

I let out a frustrated sigh. “A pity then coin is not something the fey normally cares about.”

“Some may, but I am not one of them,” Émeraude confirmed. “I live quite comfortably here, and wealth is not among my concerns.”

Thinking carefully, an idea struck me. “I am giving aid by hunting down a monster that has slain one of your guests. Is that not worth anything?”

Émeraude shook her head. “I am afraid not. As a magus, ‘tis your duty to seek out the guilty and deal with any monsters that threaten ponies, neigh?”

I frowned. “That is true, aye. So in other words, I cannot sell a service that I am already obligated by duty to give.”

Émeraude nodded. “Such is the burden of titles. ‘Twas a fine attempt, but sadly lacking. Though if you are having trouble coming up with a price...” She grinned and poked my belly. “You could always offer your firstborn. That would buy you a great number of answers you might desire.”

I blinked. “N-neigh! I will do no such thing!”

Émeraude covered her mouth as she chortled. “Come now, I would be able to give you much of what you desire to know. Mayhaps even more. If ‘tis foalbearing you are uncomfortable with I am sure we could make an arrangement. It has been quite some time since I have had a child in any event, and with your ... unique bloodline, ‘twould certainly be worth the discomforts.” She leaned in to whisper, her hot breath tickling my ear. “And the act to create the child would certainly be ... pleasurable.”

My cheeks burned as I took a step back away from her and vigorously shook my head. She was probably just teasing me at this point, or at least partially so, but her proposal still shook me. Especially over what it entailed. “I am not nearly ready to be a parent. Especially in such a ... mercenary manner.”

I could not even believe that I was discussing this! Aye, it was true the fey had a preoccupation with the children of ponies, for while a fey’s actions were dominated by their nature and an adult pony was less flexible, the minds of children are easily crafted towards their desires. But for her to be so forward about it...

Émeraude puckered her lips in a pout. “A pity, then. I really do think we could make it work. But if you are not interested, then you will need to find some manner by which to discover what you desire to know. For a great many things are happening around Honeyfield that you should know of.”

I frowned as I considered her. “You mean besides Shining’s death?”

“Come now, surely you see that matters involving the succession are highly irregular.” Émeraude lounged upon a nearby chair. “High Stakes’ sudden death, his significant debt, a stallion suddenly appearing and laying claim to his estate, a false claimant attempting to steal the county and break the Compact—need I go on?”

I lowered myself into a chair opposite her, feeling so fully comfortable after the long day I had experienced. ‘Twas a struggle to not just fall asleep right then and there. “I admit, I found myself facing quite the tangled web when I came to Honeyfield. I had only just begun to unravel it when this newest turn of events transpired.”

Émeraude’s eyes caught the moonlight. “Aye, and now Shining has been slain. Does that not make you curious about what else might be happening under the surface in Honeyfield?”

“Of course it does.” I suppressed a tired sigh as I rubbed my eyes. “But first I must make sure this monster does not kill again.”

“Understandable. Still, do not get so wrapped up in current events that you neglect the past. Especially ones that served as the catalyst for recent woes.”

I fought through my fatigue to try and think. Playing word games with a fey was not something I should attempt while tired. “What are you talking about? Where should I start with my investigations?”

Émeraude’s pointed ears twitched, and it was a few seconds before she answered. “What brought you to Honeyfield?”

“Her Highness sent me,” I said. “She wished for me to help her decide who should become the count. I have already said this.”

Émeraude grumbled something under her breath and rubbed the side of her temple. “What event brought you to Honeyfield?”

I frowned, my frustration growing. The truth was to be seen right out of the corner of my vision, but I could not bring myself to focus on it. “Count High Stake’s death. Why are you bringing that up? You said that he died of natural causes.”

Émeraude’s ears twitched again. “I said he was dying of disease. His health had been failing for some time.”

I crossed my legs over my chest as I carefully reviewed her words. “Are you saying he did not die naturally?”

She remained silent, but a smile slowly spread across her features.

Feeling I was on the right track, I pressed forward. “Somepony hastened his death then? Or caused his condition, even?”

“Those are your own words and not mine, Magus.” She shrugged. “If they are your own, and you decide to go into the family cryptand wish to examine High’s corpse because you have suspicions about his death, then I cannot stop you.”

“And where exactly are these catacombs?”

Émeraude stood up from her chair. “I could show you if you wish. There is little sense in allowing a guest go down to the dark crypt of my descendants all alone.”

A spark of worry lit within me. Going into the House Honeyfield crypt alone with Émeraude during the middle of the night had the potenital for many evils to befall me. There was the obvious possibility of being betrayed by my host, being eaten by some foul undead, or falling prey to some forgotten trap laid out by a paranoid and long-dead noble. Then of course there was the monster that had slain Shining to worry about. All were unpleasant deaths I would prefer to avoid.

Pity then that my curiosity had been sparked. Émeraude clearly wished for me to know something, and considering I did not wish to make a bargain with her my options were limited. I could wait until the morning to go to the crypt, but that time was already allocated to dealing with the monster. Who knew when next I would get an opportunity to take care of this, especially when Émeraude had come now of all times to approach me? More than likely that was not a coincidence.

In the end, I decided on my course of action. As Mother had instructed me, caution had its place, but there came a time for bold action. Still, there remained means by which I could lean the odds in my favor.

“You will of course protect me as your guest as you show me the crypt?” I asked. Her answer would tell me much. While a fey’s nature was often difficult to deal with, there were ways to take advantage of it.

Émeraude nodded. “But of course. How could I do elsewise?”

Deciding that answer was as good as I was going to get where my security was concerned, I got up and retrieved my cloak. “Then let us go.” I pulled a rejuvenation potion from my saddlebags and drank it, feeling renewed energy within my tired limbs. ‘Twas not as good as a good night’s rest, but it would have to do. Time was short.

‘Twas not long before Émeraude and I found ourselves before the House Honeyfield crypt. It was located a little ways from the castle, implying that the living residents of Honeyfield did not wish to be quite so close to their dead ancestors, as was the case with many ponies. Death was a specter most did not wish to be regularly reminded of, and while it could not be totally avoided, it could be ignored for a time. Hence why we assigned special places for the dead.

The existence of necromancy was another reason to keep the dead separate. Nopony wanted zombies or specters to rise up from under their home and devour the living.

The entrance to the crypt was an ornate thing, perhaps excessively so. Small statues of hounds, bees, and honeycombs outlined the doorframe. Based on certain parts of the statues being more sun-bleached than others, they must recently have been cleaned of the vines and moss that covered many of the gravestones surrounding the crypt in preparation for the late count’s funeral.

Given the circumstances, I thought it best to do what I could to ensure that I was not about to get myself killed. “I trust there are no undead within the crypt or other dangers I need worry about?”

Émeraude grinned. “None that I am aware of. The only undead down here is the ghost of my poor niece Ruby Horizon.”

I quirked an eyebrow. “And this spirit has not been dealt with?”

“She is relatively harmless.” Émeraude shrugged. “She has not attacked anypony and mostly keeps to herself unless sought. Some of her descendants and magi have attempted to put her to rest, but thus far none have been successful.” She turned her head to look at me. “If you wish, I could tell you her tale while we descend into the crypt. For a price, of course.”

“And that price?” I asked wearily.

“For you to answer a few questions relating to the tale,” she answered. “You need not reveal any of your secrets if ‘tis not your desire, but you must answer the questions honestly.”

I frowned as I considered the proposal. “And what would you gain from such an exchange? It sounds like a queer thing to suggest.”

“I am curious about how you think, Magus,” Émeraude answered. “‘Twill also pass the time while we walk, and I do hate being bored.”

This could be some sort of trap, but it seemed unlikely that I could be ensnared by some simple story. Naturally I would have to be careful in this, but I was curious as to why Émeraude wished to tell me this tale. The fey rarely did anything without reason, and I would learn nothing if I turned back now.

After careful thought, I nodded. “If I need not reveal any compromising secret, then I agree.”

A tingle ran up my spine and Émeraude’s eyes flashed, her features seemed all the more angular in the moonlight. “Then ‘tis a bargain. Follow me.”

We entered the crypt together. While pitch black inside, my darkvision spell allowed me to see as though we strode in daylight. The entrance to the crypt opened into a room dominated by a sarcophagus engraved with the relief of a stallion in platemail. A quick reading of a worn plaque revealed this to be the resting place of Count Steel Grace, founder of House Honeyfield.

I watched as Émeraude’s gaze drifted over her father’s sarcophagus. “So, I believe I bargained for a story?”

She nodded slowly, leading the way further into the crypt. “Aye, let me tell you the story of Ruby Horizon. Ruby had two older brothers, Jasper Sunrise and Azurite Dawn. Jasper, being the elder brother, became the Count of Honeyfield after their mother died of plague. Problems quickly manifested, as Jasper was ... ill-suited for the role. He used the county coffers to feed his pleasures, knew little of self-restraint, possessed a short temper and a boisterous demeanor that put him at odds with his neighbors, and held little interest in the necessities of governance. Soon the coffers were empty and Jasper found himself encircled by enemies. Even Honeyfield’s friends abandoned it.”

“A most precarious time in Honeyfield’s history, then,” I remarked. “‘Tis always foul times when a pony who ascends to a title of nobility does not have the talents for it. I take it this story will not be a happy one?”

“I am getting to all of that,” Émeraude said somberly. “But first I will ask my first question of you: what is to be done with such a pony? One who find himself in power but is poorly suited for the position?”

“That depends on whether I consider him a friend or an enemy,” I said. “Were he the latter, I would take advantage of his weaknesses to eliminate him.”

A slight, feline grin spread across her features as she lead me further into the crypt. “And if he were a friend?”

It took me a couple of moments to decide on an answer. “If mine ally were incapable of managing his affairs, then I would suggest gaining an advisor who could run his estate for him. Many a land has been well served by a capable second running the affairs of state for their sovereign.”

Émeraude leaned her head closer to mine, coming uncomfortably close as her voice dropped to a whisper. “Now I wonder whether that is your mother’s influence I hear, or your own thoughts? ‘Twould not be surprising you would think favorably of grand viziers, given your mother’s position.”

“‘Tis a matter of fact,” I argued, shifting a step away from her in the claustrophobic hallway. “I could recite a score or more of ponies who served as a second-in-command and left everyone better served. And aye, I would name Mother amongst them.”

Mother was far from the most beloved mare in Equestria, but she had served well as grand vizier and archmagus. She would hardly have held her titles for so long if she were not so capable. Especially when she often came under the royal displeasure. Princess Celestia was greatly aided by Mother’s help, and I would imagine that her help would be all the more badly needed under a less capable monarch. Granted, a corner of my mind wondered if Mother would not place greater weight on her ambitions if Equestria were not ruled by a benevolent and capable immortal ruler, but I quickly squashed the notion before it led in unfortunate directions.

Instead of arguing the point, Émeraude shifted her line of questions. “But I would ask this: what if the pony born to a title of nobility will not listen to wise council and instead led his land to disaster?”

My frown deepened at the much tricker question, for every answer I could think of had unhappy aspects to it. In such a scenario, there were two main answers I could come up with. The first was to do nothing, remain loyal to one’s ruler, and follow his commands while continuing to try to advise a wiser course. That was a problematic proposition, to say the least, and only seemed to invite misfortune. So that left the second solution.

“Then mayhaps that pony should be stripped of power,” I suggested. “Either formally or by a de facto reduction to a position of impotence.”

“A coup, then?” Émeraude raised her eyebrow in an amused look. “You would so readily unleash the chaos that comes with disrupting the normal process of succession? Surely you know of the discord that can cause. ‘Twas not that long ago that this land was ripped asunder because ponies questioned who should rule Equestria. A cure that does more harm than the disease is hardly a cure.”

I shook my head, knowing that this was a likely argument against my second proposal. “‘Tis not an option I would take lightly, for any means. For removing a rightful ruler or at the very least reducing them to a position of impotence can have dire consequences. The Lunar Rebellion is proof of that.”

Émeraude inclined her head in a slight nod. “You do not seem to be blind to the dangers, at least. Even when successful, a coup can have lasting consequences.”

“The fact that this land still suffers the ravages of the last war is proof of that,” I agreed.

“And so it was with my family.” Émeraude stopped before one of the sarcophagi lining the hallway and she placed a hoof on it, her features unreadable. The inscription revealed its owner as Jasper Sunrise. “Azurite argued repeatedly with his brother and how he ran their estate, saying that he was too free with the county’s money and readily made too many enemies, but Jasper ignored his warnings. Jasper was always a proud pony, and he did not like being told how to manage his affairs, insisting the younger brother should respect the elder. Then one of their arguments became too heated. Words became shoves, shoves became blows, and as both of their blood boiled, daggers were drawn. Ruby cried for them to stop, but it was already too late; the two of them tumbled down the stairs, and when they came to rest ‘twas Jasper who never arose again, a dagger plunged into his body.”

“Was it Jasper’s or Azurite’s blade which smote him?”

Émeraude turned her head stare from the corner of her glowing yellow eyes. “Does it matter, in the end?”

Sensing the question was more than rhetorical, I considered mine answer carefully. “Neigh. ‘Twas murder once steel was drawn.”

My fey host sighed and shook her head. “To this day, I am unsure who drew their dagger first. I only came ‘pon the scene after Jasper had been slain, and while Ruby had been there from the start she did not see who resorted to kinslaying.”

“A pitiful affair, then.” I could not imagine what the two younger siblings must have felt as they stared at the bleeding and slowly cooling corpse of their elder, partially because I did not have a sibling into whom to sink a dagger in an act of kinslaying. “How did everypony react to this evil that had befallen them?”

Émeraude spoke in barely above a whisper. “Azurite, in a panic, said that Jasper had fallen down the stairs and onto his own dagger. An accident, he said.”

“A poor attempt to cover up his misdeeds,” I declared. “It does not seems likely many would believe him, and you were certainly not fooled by the charade, much less the sister saw the whole ordeal.” No doubt the multiple stab wounds would have argued against the idea that a mere accident had happened, even before one considered that some of them would seem self-inflicted. ‘Tis rare that a knife fight does not result in both opponents receiving nasty wounds, whatever the ultimate outcome.

Émeraude shook her head. “Neigh, I was not—and ‘twould have surprised me if many of the servants of the castle were fooled either. But the thing was that Jasper had never been particularly loved by most of his servants, and they no doubt guessed the reasons for why he had been slain. Many felt equal or greater loyalty to Azurite, who had always been kind to them, whilst many still did not wish to run afoul of the new Count of Honeyfield. After all, a stallion who could slay his own kin could certainly end their lives if ‘twas the only way to preserve his own.”

That was often the way of things when it came to interactions between the strong and the weak. ‘Twas usually so much easier to say nothing and keep one’s head down during times of turmoil in the hopes the storm would abate rather than make oneself noticeable and subject to whatever wrath that might attract.

“But what of yourself?” I asked. “I doubt you were so easily cowed.”

Émeraude stared down at her slain nephew’s sarcophagus for a long moment before answering. “‘Tis not my role to determine the course of my house, magus. Neigh, it had been laid out before my very conception that I would advise my family, and aid and protect them, but never to rule them. My father did not wish for a fey to dominate his house, and took precautions ‘gainst that in the Compact.”

And now we saw the truth of it. Émeraude could not defy her very nature if ‘twas written upon her before her birth. “So you stood aside as Azurite became count, but what of Ruby?”

Émeraude’s head hung slightly as she moved deeper into the crypt. “At first she had been struck dumb by what she had seen. She had always been a gentle soul, and the sight of seeing one brother slay another was too much for her to absorb at first. Eventually, she knew enough to be horrified by the situation she found herself in: a kinslayer now ran her noble house.”

“And her course?” I asked, curious how this tale would end.

“I first would ask you a question.” Émeraude’s eyes narrowed as she turned her gaze back upon me. “What is more important? The harmony of the state, or justice?”

“I would think justice would aid in the harmony of the state,” I was quick to argue.

Émeraude shook her head. “We both know ‘tis not so simple. While justice is important for a ruler to pursue, to rule ablely sometime demands that the ruler act immorally. There are many times where a ruler must lie and deceive, quash rivals before they can be a threat, and seek the aid of important allies even when it demands actions they find distasteful. Tell me, how many times has your mother committed evil acts in the name of Equestria?”

‘Twas my turn to break eye contact with Émeraude. “More times than I know.” I knew that my mother was hardly a virtuous mare; she made passionate and well reasoned arguments for her less savory actions, but while many of them might have been necessary that was not to say they were good either. She had used a child as a bomb ‘gainst his warlock father, provoked duels to slay rivals, and had slain many less virulent foes both directly and indirectly, yet she was still grand vizier and an archmagus by the grace of her princess.

Émeraude nodded. “And for another example, was it just to destroy the earth ponies’ government? Near as I can tell, half of the earth ponies voted for and then fought for Celestia, and yet she disbanded their government at the end of the war. Was that justice?”

“‘Tis not so simple as justice or injustice,” I countered. “The earth ponies’ government was in shambles by the end of the war. The countryside was aflame as neighbor slew neighbor. It needed to be halted ere we had nothing but corpses to feed upon.”

“New elections could have been held,” Émeraude countered. “A friendly government established. ‘Twould have been more fair to the earth ponies than merely absorbing them into Unicornia, especially when so many had bled and died for Celestia’s cause.”

I shook my head. “That would have taken time, and had no guarantee of success. With madness that had infected the land ‘twas likely that another election would have been just as corrupted by fraud as the one that had started the war.”

“So you argue that the harmony of the state was more important than doing what was just?”

I frowned deeply. “Aye, at least in this case. Nopony was served by chaos, and only famine would have followed if the earth ponies’ internal war had continued.”

Émeraude’s eyes flash and a cool smile spread across her lips. “Then what of the dissolution of Pegasopolis?”

I felt myself stiffen despite myself. “That was a necessity if Equestria was ever to have peace.”

One of Émeraude’s eyebrows rose. “Is that so? A nation with thousands of years of proud history was destroyed for the indiscretion of a select few? All those centuries spent defending Equestria meant nothing after one war?”

I scowled at the fey, for I enjoyed not the subject of Pegasopolis. “Aye, for ‘tis a matter of survival for Equestria. If Pegasopolis had not been destroyed and the clans disbanded, there would have been another war within a generation. That I guarantee. Defeat at the hooves of shopkeepers, nobles, magi, and farmers would have wounded pegasi pride, and ‘twould be a wound they would never forgive. ‘Twould have been the height of foolishness to continue to depend on the clans for our defence. Another war could easily have lead to Unicornia’s defeat, and from there we would have been inflicted with a Pegasopolian hegemony that would have resulted in yet more civil war.”

“And what of the common pegasi?” Émeraude asked. “Many of them have been reduced to poverty in both body and spirit. Instead of being proud warriors they now push clouds under royal supervision, (1) work as messengers, or as mercenaries and house guards for lordlings. And those are often the fortunate ones.”

1. This time period saw the beginnings of the Weather Service, with weather pegasi under the close supervision of the Royal Guard. Though it would take a couple of centuries for a Weather Service that we could recognize today to form.

She did have something of a point. After the dissolution of the clans, the great mass of the pegasi had been left without a purpose. While some had skills that could be of use elsewhere in the economy, the majority were solely trained in the martial arts and knew not else but war. That resulted in a great many pegasi falling into poverty, for most did not even know how to use money, having always depended on unicorns and earth ponies to provide for their needs. Many pegasi had not done well for themselves since, and there were plenty of roving bands of pegasi bandits ravaging the countryside to this day. (2)

2. It is not known how many pegasi were involved in banditry immediately after the Lunar Rebellion, but estimates by historians range from the hundreds to well into the thousands. Large bands of bandits that ravaged the countryside and even took over whole groups of towns proved to be the first real test of Shadow Kicker’s reformed Royal Guard, and it took over a decade of bloody skirmishes and the events of the Morning Wars before the problem finally abated.

Still, I was resolute in my stance. “While the effects of some of the reforms after the Rebellion are unfortunate, they are a sad consequence of what needed to be done. The clans’ power needed to be utterly broken lest they rise again to threaten the Crown. In the end, most of those pegasi who have been harmed by my mother’s laws are also the ponies that would have served as the soldiers for a fresh war. The consequences of the laws that broke the clans have led to much unhappiness, that is true, but a war would cause a magnitude greater of evil. Once again I state: ‘twas necessary.”

“As you say, magus.” Émeraude shrugged uncaringly. “Azurite was of a similar mind, and once he became count he proved to be a capable master—even if he came to be count through evil means. He diligently saw to the affairs of his county and its people with both skill and intelligence,and soon made peace with his ruffled neighbors and returned the county to prosperity. Happy times had returned and the land was content. But Ruby was slow in stirring herself to action. Conflict was not in her nature, and she did not wish to quarrel with her brother, whatever scruples she possessed. At first she pleaded with her brother to step down as count and seek atonement for his evil act, but he rejected her pleas, saying that his county needed the strong hoof he could provide. ‘Twas some time before started her conspiracy to remove her brother.”

Émeraude stopped before another sarcophagus, the inscription to this one marking itself as belonging to Ruby Sunrise. “Seeing that she could not convince her brother to stand down, and not desiring her house to be stained by being ruled by a kinslayer, she sought conspirators with which to work with. She dared not go to the other noble houses or to the crown out of fear for how ‘twould undermine her own house. So she sought the aid of the house guard. But here she had chosen poorly. Azurite was always regular in his payment to his guards and saw to their needs, and soon one of those approached by Ruby revealed the conspiracy to his count.”

“I cannot imagine that Azurite took his sister’s betrayal well.” The wounds cut by betrayals tended to be the deepest, after all, and those done by family deeper still.

Shaking her head, she continued, “Neigh, even if his reaction was measured. He had guards loyal to him seize her and lock her within one of the castle towers, removed all her conspirators from positions of prominence within the county, and thus quashed the conspiracy in its infancy. But while Azurite was angered by his sister’s defiance, he still felt the guilt of his actions and did not wish to harm her. Thus, he kept her prisoner within the tower, and gave her every comfort circumstances allowed.”

‘Twas not hard to imagine where this solution to the coup would have problems. “A gilded cage is still a cage, and there was the problem about how long he intended to keep his own sister locked up. Sooner or later that would become the subject of all sorts of rumor and trouble.”

“That is indeed true,” Émeraude agreed. “Already rumors were spreading across the countryside that Azurite was a kinslayer, and his imprisonment of his sister did little to improve his reputation. Azurite pleaded with Ruby to drop the matter, and swore that he would set her free if she would but subject herself to silence about Jasper’s fate. But Ruby did not waver on getting justice for her fallen brother, instead insisting that Azurite should step down from his position and admit his crimes and throw himself at the mercy of the Royal Sisters.”

“Not much room for compromise then,” I observed. A prickling started at the base of my next and I felt ... something within the crypt. I could not determine what had set my senses on edge. This was something that did not sit well with me, for I am not easily disturbed, but something within this crypt left me uneasy.

Émeraude shook her head. “Neigh, it did not. I fear that they were both quite stubborn in this. Ruby sought justice, and came to dig in her heels on the matter. Azurite wished to see his house and county prosper, and he worried what would happen should the truth come out on what had happened to Jasper, both for himself and his house.”

“So what happened?” I asked. “It seems something of a stalemate of wills had occurred.”

“Aye, it became a protracted contest of wills.” Émeraude’s eyes lingered on Ruby’s sarcophagus. “But eventually something gave. Over time, Ruby’s confinement wore down her soul. Azurite always selected his sister’s captors so she could not turn them to her cause. No shining knight came to her rescue, or clever commoner with a plan to sneak her out, no war launched by queens or nobility to free her from her confinement as the years dragged on. It seemed she would never know freedom or justice.”

I frowned as it sounded like there would not be a happy ending to this story. “And what of you? Did you do nothing as this misfortune fell over your family?”

Émeraude’s head hanged and she did not meet my gaze. “Aye, many times. Mine attempts to negotiate between my niece and nephew failed, and Azurite could not be convinced to release his sister, for he felt the threat she posed to his rule was too great if she would not accept a geas. I offered Ruby her her freedom, to spend the remainder of her days running under the stars and moon, to hunt and feast, and for the sylvan forest to be her eternal home.”

I raised an eyebrow. “She did not accept being aided in her escape? But why? It would have given her the opportunity to do as she willed.”

The fey turned her head to looked at me out of the corner of her eyes. “Come now Magus, surely you can ascertain why?”

I scowled, the crypt growing colder as I considered the situation. “Because you cannot do anything not directly covered by your duties or for that which has not been bargained. That begs the question, what was your price for Ruby’s freedom?”

Émeraude’s features became more angular and the glow in her eyes grew. “That she give up her claim to Honeyfield and leave her home to come with me to my other home in the realm of the fey, never to return to this plane.”

“And demand she give up her quest for justice,” I reasoned. A spark of curiosity hit me, and I decided to pursue it. “Tell me, did you make a similar offer to Azurite to offer him a similar opportunity out of this conundrum?”

Before mine eyes, Émeraude’s features became more pony-like and the glow in her eyes faded. “Neigh. Honeyfield requires a pony of the blood of my father to maintain the Compact.”

My eyes narrowed as my suspicions grew. “But Ruby was also the blood of your father, neigh?”

“She was, aye,” Émeraude carefully answered.

I tilted my head and blinked slowly. That was most curious. She offered Ruby an opportunity to get out of her woeful situation, but did not do the same for Azurite, and I suspected there was a reason for that just below the surface. “And what of Jasper? Did he receive your offer of freedom as well?”

The corner of Émeraude’s mouth quirked. “He did indeed.”

“Curious. You offered an opportunity for freedom that would release them from the shackles of their station and duties, but not to Azurite.” I crossed my hooves over my chest. “I have to wonder why. Was it because he was the best suited to rule the county?”

“That sounds like a reasonable explanation,” Émeraude answered in an irritatingly mysterious way. Ponies accused magi of being obtuse, but I wondered if we could really compare to the fey.

Not wanting to spend the entire night in a gradually cooling crypt, I decided to push the conversation forward. “So if her brother would not relent, she could not escape, and she did not take your offer, what was left for her?”

“Not a happy ending, I am afraid.” Émeraude’s hoof lingered on the top of Ruby’s sarcophagus. Her ears wilted as she spoke somberly. “Time went on with no change to her condition. Freedom seemed further and further away, and all her plans for her future were ground into the dust. In time she lost hope, and where hope fades there can only be despair.”

“And hope is something every pony needs,” I responded. “‘Tis as essential as water. For what is there to look forward to if there is no hope in it?”

Émeraude nodded. “Indeed. And so Ruby took the only option she felt left to her. One day she threw herself from her tower window.” She grimaced and her hoof scraped against the sarcophagus’ top. “To predictable ends.”

“And I take it that is how the Ruby of today came to be?” There was a prickle on the back of my neck, and I turned my head to see what was behind me.

A translucent figure floated in the hallway, equine in shape but clearly not of the living world. The ghost of Ruby Horizon’s neck was twisted at an utterly unnatural angle, likely in the direction in which it had been broken in her final moment of life. The top of her head was cracked in as though struck by a mace, and blue ectoplasm continually dripped from the eternal wound. Her gaze was vacant, her eyes downcast a she looked at nothing. Most telling of all to me were her lips, which had been sewn together to leave her as silent in death as she had been in life.

Émeraude let out a long sigh at the spirit of her long dead niece. “She has haunted this crypt ever since her death. Sometimes she briefly returns to the castle, usually to the tower that was her prison, but that is all.”

“And she has attacked no one?” I eyes the ghost warily. Many such beings could be extremely dangerous if provoked, especially those who had died violently. Likely Ruby was a spirit with unfinished business, doomed to wander the earth until they were satisfied. A most pitiful existence, I imagined. ‘Twas not one I wished for myself.

Émeraude shook her head. “She has not. Ruby was quick to make her current condition evident to her brother, but even then she did not harm him.”

“And Azurite’s reaction to his sister’s undead state?”

“It caused him no small consternation.” Émeraude stepped to a nearby sarcophagus further into the crypt and studied it intently. “He felt no small guilt for what had happened to Ruby, and constantly questioned what he might have done differently to avoid the tragedy that had befallen his family.”

I nodded to Ruby’s spectre. “A little late to save his sister’s life. ‘Twould be far more productive to put that spirit to rest.”

“And that also plagued his thoughts.” Émeraude patted the lid of the sarcophagus to draw mine attention to it:

Count Azurite Dawn
Brother, Husband, Father, and Beloved Count
Ever Dutiful

“He feared calling on a magus to free Ruby from this existence,” Émeraude continued, “for a clever magus might have discovered his crimes and thus bring to ruin everything he had worked for. He did not wish for his children to know him as a kinslayer, and ‘twas no small worry how that knowledge might undermine his house. Already more than one pony suspected foul deeds after Jasper’s early death and Ruby’s suicide.”

“It does not sound like he had many options available to him if he could not seek outside assistance,” I pointed out. “At least if he did not have a capable and trusted magus within his household.”

Émeraude shook her head. “Neigh, such was not an option for him. Instead, he considered other ways he might pacify Ruby.”

“Blood for blood?” I asked. “His death in atonement might have broken the curse infecting his family.”

“Indeed so.” Something flashed behind Émeraude’s eyes, though I could not read her thoughts. “But that choice was taken from him. A gryphon incursion some years later drew his attention, and a lucky arrow brought an end to the story of these unfortunate siblings. Or at least, that phase of it.”

“It is not a happy story, I admit.” It made me wonder once again exactly why I was down here. Was she expecting something of me, trying to pry information from me, or some other unseen purpose?

“It is one of my family’s most woeful tragedies.” Émeraude turned to face me. “How would you judge my late nephew? Was he a victim of circumstances, a vile manipulator and plotter, or perhaps something else?”

I tilted my head as I considered what I had been told. “Without having known the pony, I would say he did the best he could given the circumstances. 'Tis unfortunate that his siblings would not be more cooperative towards him, but in the end he did what was best for the ponies of his county.”

A enigmatic smile spread across Émeraude’s lips. “So you think his kinslaying and other crimes are excused because he was a good ruler? Can a just rule be build on a foundation of evil?”

“'Tis mine experience that most every great house has skeletons built into its foundations,” I answered evenly. “Your sire slew many gryphons to gain the fame that made him a lord, led many ponies to their deaths, and no doubt made other compromises along the way. Your existence is proof of that. I would not excuse or ignore Azurite’s actions, but to be a leader means that necessary actions must be taken rather than wholly virtuous ones.”

“And what of Ruby?” Émeraude nodded her head to the ghost. “How would you judge her?”

“I am afraid my judgement will not be a kind one.” I shrugged. “She was a fool, if mayhaps a virtuous fool.”

Émeraude’s eyes narrowed. “And your reasoning?”

I blinked slowly as mine argument formed in my mind. “Because her actions were foolish or weak. If it was her intention to oppose her brother, she should have denounced him immediately ‘pon the death of Jasper whilst his blood was yet fresh upon Azurite’s hooves. This would have allowed her to play the stage of life to her advantage, and ‘twould have been simple to have her brother thrown down and disgraced. Instead, she wavered and took her time making a decision, and by the time she did so the window of opportunity had already passed. Bold action is needed during times of crisis, and instead she wasted her time on careful contemplation.”

“That is one way to argue it,” Émeraude said neutrally. “But the murder caught Ruby off guard. Who could not have brought herself to believe that one brother could bring himself to slay the other? Not all can react instantly to such shocking actions. What was she to do once the shock had worn off and the window of opportunity closed?”

I shrugged. “Either accept the new status quo or carefully plan his downfall.”

“Though she tried the latter and failed.”

I shook my head. “That is because she was not nearly careful enough. The ponies she courted were of mixed loyalties and had much to gain from betraying her, as one of her conspirators did. Neigh, a different course needed to be taken.” I rubbed my chin as I formed a scheme.

“If I were her and I was determined to see his end, I would consider seeking a favorable match—preferably to one of the great lords or ladies of Equestria. Once married, I would whisper into the ear of my spouse and denounce my brother. From there I would conspire with them. I would get them to join my cause either out of moral repugnance over Azurite’s actions or out of cynical practicality. Once the conspiracy was confirmed, I would wait for the right opportunity, such as a holiday.

“Visiting my brother, I would encourage the general merriment of the occasion. Then, once it was dark and everypony asleep due to food, drink, and the excitement of the day, I would strike. I would seize Azurite with my spouse’s house guard so as to behead any resistance, as well as disarm and capture Honeyfield’s guard to prevent them from causing trouble. With that done, ‘twould be a simple matter of securing the rest of the castle and then making my brother pay for his crimes. My spouse and I would then rule over Honeyfield, justice done. As my spouse's reward, our children would rule both their estates and Honeyfield, therefore strengthening both our houses with our union.”

Émeraude smiled widely as I finished the outline of how I might deal with the problem. “You are a most devious mare, Magus Midnight. I most approve.” Her eyes glittered as she stepped so close to me so that we nearly brushed up ‘gainst one another. “Mine appraisal of you has only risen. Know that my offer for a bargain back at the castle is still open, and you need not limit yourself merely to the affairs we deal with now. There is much I could tell or teach you of. More than you even realize. The benefits to both of us could be ... considerable.”

I instinctively took a step back as she purred her last word, my heart thumping hard in my chest as I was reminded that I was in very close proximity to a very comely creature. “I-I have been told t-that a crypt is no p-place for discussing such things.” Though besides practical issues of crypts typically possessing strange necromantic energies and the fact they were often havens for the undead, I did not understand why everypony else seemed so averse to such places. Even my wonderful collection of skulls seemed to upset a great many ponies that saw them.

Émeraude brushed aside a lock of my mane. “That is perhaps true. Besides, the hard stone of my family’s crypt is hardly the most comfortable of places for more ... intimate moments.” She smirked and brought her face closer to mine. “Still, ‘tis something to think over, is it not?”

My throat tightened as her lips came tantalizingly close to my own. “I-I think we can discuss this later after our p-present business is finished, and I have had a good night’s rest. Now is not the time to consider such ... permanent decisions. Also, your niece is watching.”

Émeraude blinked and took a step back from me, her eyes darting to Ruby’s misshapen ghost. “Mine apologies, it seems I have forgotten myself as passions overcame me. I had nearly forgotten what had drawn me down here.” She chuckled softly. “But there will be time for that later. I believe we were speaking of my poor Ruby before?”

“Aye that is so.” I cleared my throat, and tried to put more amorous thoughts aside. I was far too tired for these matters, but a magus perseveres despite fatigue. “Did not magi come to try and free Ruby from her mortal bonds?”

“Several magi have been hired over the years to attempt an exorcism, but none were successful,” Émeraude conceded. “They might have sent her away for a time, but she always came back.”

“And what methods did they use?” I asked, now curious about how this matter had gone on so long.

“The usual exorcism spells available to them.” Émeraude sighed and ran her hoof through her mane. “It seems that mere spellwork alone was not enough to deal with a ghost that had been around as long as she.”

I tilted my head as I carefully considered her words. “Did the magi that came to assist know of her story?”

Émeraude shook her head. “They knew some of the details, but not the complete story. By the time they came, Ruby’s story had long fallen into family myth. The generations immediately succeeding Ruby and Azurite were quick to forget the messy details, wishing to move beyond what was unpleasant to think about.”

“I see.” One of the greatest tools magi had at their disposal was knowledge, but a poorly informed magus could readily be hamstrung. “And no doubt they were wary of making a deal with you to find out more.”

Émeraude smirked. “They did not trust me for some reason, despite the fact that I cannot say a lie.”

A picture of the situation formed before me. “And I also doubt that the best of the magi of the time were sent to Honeyfield. Not when Ruby has not harmed anypony, and for the most part stays here within the crypt, which in turn rarely sees any use. Even then, if somepony visited during the day and brought with them some minor protections Ruby would probably not even make an appearance, so there would be little prestige to any magus that freed Ruby’s spirit from this world and thus little emphasis to deal with the matter.”

The fey nodded. “As well reasoned as always, Magus.”

There was always plenty of work to be done for any magus, and when there were so many dangerous monsters, spirits, and other dangers to Equestria, those magi who took to the field had plenty of work to occupy their time. A relatively harmless ghost would cause little cry from the countryside to be dealt with, and even those magi who typically dealt with the undead had more pressing subjects to deal with. If I had to guess, the magi who had come to Honeyfield were of no renown and of little skill, perhaps just magi passing through this county, and had been asked by the presiding count to see if they would exorcise its familial crypt. Having only heard sparse parts of the truth of Ruby’s unfortunate death, such a would-be exorcist would not have all the details that might have helped them, and thus thought more with their horn than their head.

But now I knew better, and a spark of inspiration struck me. “Émeraude, would you mind if I made a modification to Azurite’s sarcophagus? ‘Tis one I feel is necessary as a magus of Equestria.”

“If you feel ‘tis a matter of your duty, then I will not stop you.” Émeraude took a step back to leave me room to work.

“My thanks.” I stepped up to the resting place of the long dead count, Ruby floating in the corner of my vision as she watched me work. I bent down and with a spell I carefully turned precise lines of stone into mud, then scraped out that mud with my dagger.

Émeraude raised an eyebrow as she watched me intently. “And what are you doing?”

“Seeing to it that the truth is exposed.” I finished and stood up straight to examine my work. A final line had been added to the epitaph of Azurite’s sarcophagus that simply read as: Kinslayer. I drew myself up and made my words clear and concise. “Count Azurite Dawn, I, Magus Midnight, denounce thee kinslayer, slayer of thy brother, and unjust imprisoner of thy sister. I so declare, as a royal magus, that thy crimes will be known and condemned before all and thy memory damned for thy infamy.”

My words echoed off the stone of the crypt and soon faded into the oppressive darkness. But there was a change in the air after my words had been said. Where before there had been the continual feeling of being watched, there was now ... nothing. I turned my head to see that Ruby had vanished. There had been no final words, no mementos—just the silence of oblivion now that her brother’s crimes had finally been condemned.

Émeraude smiled, though ‘twas a bittersweet gesture. “Thank you, Magus. This unfortunate business has been unresolved for far too long.”

“It feels like too little too late.” I drew my cloak closer to me, a new sense of fatigue falling over me. “A few scratchings on a sarcophagus and a few empty words to the dead. Anypony they might have effected are long dead; there seems little justice in mine actions.”

“And would you have done any less?”

“No.” Mine eyes flicked to the strange guardian of the Honeyfield family. She had been central to her family’s history, and I suspected she had not told me all she had really known where this incident was concerned. What was I to think of her? She simultaneously manipulated and defended her family, moving them like pieces on a board and yet seeming to love each and every one of them. Mayhaps ‘twas merely part of her nature, to be amongst ponies but to have the nature of a fey. Was any of this her fault when she did not have true free will? What is more, what should be done with her? ‘Twas most disconcerting.

I decided to move onto other business for now. Endlessly questioning myself over philosophy was getting me nowhere. “If there is nothing else, please escort me to the late Count High Stakes’ resting place. The night grows long, and there is much that needs to be done in the morning.”

“But of course.” Émeraude turned to lead the way, seeming content with my exorcism of Ruby’s ghost. I could not help but think this had been one of her purposes for drawing me to this crypt. This fey struck me as too crafty for this to be a happenstance, and she would have reasons for Ruby to be put to rest after so much misery. Lesser magi had clearly not been up to the task, and she had probably seen an opportunity to have a more skill magus deal with the matter—all while leading me on to some other thing she desired me to see. As I had been warned, the schemes of the fey were not to be taken lightly, for they were as deep, confounding, and dangerous as the murky depths of the ocean.

Still, ‘twas not long before we arrived as Count High Stakes’ sarcophagus. There was a sense of newness to the sarcophagus, with it only having been recently carved by artisans and placed within the crypt. The craftsmareship was middling at best compared to others within the crypt. Whether that was because of the level of skill of the artisan hired or lack of funds, I did not know. Whatever the case, I was before my objective.

“May I remove the lid?” I asked. “I wish to examine the corpse.”

“You may.” Émeraude stood to the side. “Do you require assistance?”

“I am fine.” I did not wish to risk incurring some minor debt to the fey. The sarcophagus’ lid soon became enrapt in my magic, and I lifted it up with the scraping of stone against stone. Once I had lifted it high enough, I gently placed the lid to the side to keep it from being broken. That done, I stepped up to the sarcophagus to examine High Stakes.

The late count’s corpse was largely intact. The preservation magics had not yet dissipated in strength. Something that was a bit unusual, since there was little reason to put so much power in a spell.

“So tell me, Émeraude” I spoke. “Who cast the preservation spell? Was it you?”

The corners of Émeraude’s mouth smirked ever so slightly. “Now whyever would I do such a thing?”

Why indeed? It did not take me long to confirm that the magic preserving the corpse was no unicorn’s spell. Neigh, this was the queer magic of the fey. Still, I cast mine own preservation spell ‘pon the corpse to maintain it. I had a feeling that it was best to make sure that it did not decay anytime soon if Émeraude had gone through so much trouble.

That done, I carefully examined the corpse. Sadly, the late count’s skull was aesthetically unimpressive, and would sit poorly upon my shelf of skulls if I opted to claim it. A spell revealed no obvious wounds, though it was not one intended to study a corpse and took me some time to sift through the various warnings about all of the body’s organs having failed. This made it difficult to tell exactly what had killed the stallion, though I had been told that High had died suddenly during the night after having been on his death’s bed for some time. Thinking the matter over, I cast a new spell that was intended to detect a specific cause of death and I was rewarded with a quick answer.

“Ah, it seems that the count was poisoned. How interesting.”

Émeraude’s teeth flashed in an all too predatory smile.

Author's Note

I'd like to thank my editors Chengar Qordath and Comma-Kazie, and my prereaders Trinary, Rodinga, Swiftest, Bronywriter, wolfstorm56, Stupidhand14, Alicorn Priest, and Poison Claw for all their help with putting this story together.