King Cauchemar had met the barrier once more; no matter what he did, he couldn’t see beyond. Scowling, he released his grip on the scrying spell, allowing the water to drain from the pool before him. Beyond his view lied Equestria, once the home of his people.
The nightmares had been banished for so long that they had forgotten many things about the place, but rumours of its verdant farmland, high reaching mountains, expansive wildlife, and stunning seas remained. The extent of what they knew about modern day Equestria was that which they had gleaned from an errant changeling after a great deal of barter. It was said that the kingdom was ruled by alicorns, that they had many large cities, and that the old Tree of Harmony had produced artifacts for champions to wield.
While Nightmaria had no such artifacts, it did have its own Champions. Six of them, all as cunning and ruthless as the last, his personal elite troop. Through their combined power, there was little they were unable to achieve. It was getting them to work together that proved difficult.
Cauchemar had heard tell from the same changeling that these artifacts were powerful, strong enough to bind the Spirit of Chaos, and that the tree had granted these six the strength to imprison a centaur imbued with alicorn magic. Knowing that the nation possessed such power was unnerving, there was no telling whether that same force would be brought to bear against his country, should their snowy province on the outskirts of Equestria be discovered.
Cauchemar walked from his scrying pool to his balcony, overlooking Somnus Arctos, the capital of Nightmaria. The city was as cold as the land of Equestria had been when they left, as was most of the surrounding land. Still, the nightmares were a resilient tribe, and their strong will to survive and fervent ambition had led them to prosper, their cities strong, their ponies united, and their lives sustainable.
Through his dark, violet eyes, he looked down upon his city. Dark, gothic architecture in the upper district was met by contemporary, metallic, and imposing buildings in the centre. Simple stone and wood-laden shacks sat on the outskirts, some unprotected by the city’s high walls. Somnus Arctos had been built on an incline, heat generators running through the core were powered by coal and magic alike, and the heat was funneled through to the ponies around the city. Nightmares were naturally resistant to the cold because of the flames that their hooves generated, but they were not immune, and to live without an external source of heat would mean freezing to death.
Breathing through a snarl, he looked up to the pale, empty sky. Cauchemar hated their reliance upon science and magic, even if he was the most powerful sorcerer of his kind. Knowing that their homeland now saw safe climate and fertility only served to infuriate him more. He knew that if they were to return they would have no stake in the land, and would only be met with hostility. Years of counsel made by Cauchemars that had lived and died before him had led to that consensus, and although his desire to return to Equestria was strong, he saw no way to do so that did not result in all-out war. He had discussed the matter with his wife, his leaders of state, and reluctantly, his champions, and he saw that above anything, there was a conflicting interest amongst his people, one that he was unsure how he could balance.
While some nightmares were indifferent regarding the situation, some came from regal bloodlines and had heard tale of the times in which nightmares had been feared. The other tribes had been jealous of their ability to fly without wings, to cast magic without a horn, to manipulate dreams at will. They were considered to be a tribe of faux-alicorns, but very few of them possessed the strength to match a fully developed one. In fact, despite the diversity of their skills, most nightmares were a little weaker than any other pony.
So it was that they were pushed out—it was said that numbers and surprise had been the sole factors in their defeat. Some nightmares resented their banishment and wished to take revenge upon the Equestrians that banished them and take the land for themselves. His wife was also of this opinion. Others were more indifferent, and content to stay in the place they had known as home for millennia without even a thought to their birthplace. It was a common misconception amongst other races that all nightmares were evil, terrible, and bloodthirsty. Only most were.
Cauchemar knew he was caught in the middle. For the twenty-two years that he had served as king, he had spent much time studying in his archives, or having clandestine conversations with advisers and historians, trying to piece together that which they lacked, an account of modern Equestria, as well as a plan to enter. Cauchemar bore no ill will to the ponies of Equestria; it was doubtful that any of them even remembered the nightmares’ existence, and that was the sin of their ancestors.
Still, would he be above subjugating the entire nation, if it meant his ponies could have better lives? He needed an opportunity to present itself before he decided that, and an opportunity he would orchestrate. The time seemed right what with all that he had learnt, just as much as it seemed wrong.
What he needed was a chance to survey the situation more closely; stories without corroboration and ancient texts did not fill his heart with confidence—he needed his ponies on the inside. Cauchemar knew that an all-out invasion could spell disaster for him, he had no clue just what he was dealing with, after all. No, if this was to be done, it would be either by diplomacy or subterfuge. Knowing his champions, he had more confidence in the latter.
Sending his champions to scout out the area was a double-edged sword. On one hoof, most of them were excellent liars, skilled in deception. On the other, it left their capital more vulnerable. If the caribous, or worse, the snow leopards were to hear of this, there was no telling what they might have to deal with, without the champions there to protect their cities.
Still, this was their best chance, he was sure of that. He had a finite amount of time left as king, and he knew that his current crew of champions was too valuable, too powerful to be wasted when they could be utilised. If he was to wait another year, two of them could be dead and replaced by then. It was unlikely, but it could happen. If he waited for too long, Equestria could discover him first. That thought sent chills coursing through his spine, nearly dimming the flames that gleamed off of his regal horseshoes.
His queen would be angry that she hadn’t been consulted, but it was for the good of them all. He had to act. Conjuring a radio device, an interesting tool that his half-metal champion Agora had fashioned, he adjusted the frequency so it could be heard by two champions in particular. From there, he began to speak.
“Gather the other champions and come to the castle immediately, I will await you there. This is an urgent matter and I will accept no delay, move as fast as you can.”
Cauchemar didn’t wait for a reply, letting the radio dissipate in a surge of magic. He moved across the room in strong strides, leaving his chambers and walking along the corridor in search of his operation room. He marvelled at the walls that surrounded him, as he so often did. There were no paintings, only metallic effigies of previous Cauchemars and Phants, kings and queens that had served Nightmaria before him. Cauchemar wondered if his visage would join them soon... if the castle would even stand by then.
Perhaps, Cauchemar would have a new castle to call home by the time all was said and done. Arriving at the operations room, he removed a scroll from its bindings—the parchment fashioned from ox hide—and began to trace the familiar lines once more. Before him, there lay a crude interpretation of modern Equestria, the map a quarter full and outlining little. It wasn’t much to go on, but it was better than nothing.
Redsky Morning hated clingy stallions, yet she found herself stuck with one that very moment. The city’s logistics quality analyst was currently laid with a hoof wrapped around her chest, blissfully snoring away. She didn’t need to act affectionate towards him, he had a wife for that.
Casting her eyes around the room, she saw four discarded frilly socks, as well as a blindfold, and in the corner of the room, a long black overcoat. Alright, enough messing around, it was time to go. She shifted to roll out of the bed but found the stallion’s hoof dead against her chest. Snarling, she started to bat it away, stirring him.
His eyes inched open, he mumbled something about wanting five more minutes and began to drift off once more. Redsky sighed, giving him a light kick. The small motion had its desired effect, the impact causing him to reel back and allowing her the space to float out of the bed, where she began to quickly gather up her things.
Looking back, she noticed that last night’s conquest—a heavyset stallion in his thirties, his coat brown and the flames around his fetlocks a dark orange—was staring up at her, confusion in his eyes. “Why are you leaving?” he asked, his voice tired and grouchy. “We still have hours until anyone comes home.”
Redsky didn’t have time for the niceties; brutal honesty never hurt, right? “I was done with you the moment you agreed to allow the changes to the rail system,” she admitted, sauntering her wingless body about in midair as she picked up discarded clothes, packing them into a small rucksack that sat in the corner of the room.
“But, we’ve been seeing each other for weeks...” the stallion stammered, incredulous. He rose out of bed, his snout flaring as he huffed at her, a growl beginning to emanate from his throat. “Just who do you think you are?”
“Why, a Champion, of course,” Redsky sweetly replied, “And you’re right, we have. Hurts to be used, doesn’t it?”
The stallion stormed right up to her, his form almost as intimidating as his tone as he matched her floating height merely by standing before her. Still, she paid it little mind. If he was going to do anything, he would have done it by now, rather than huffing and puffing like a blowfish. No, this was clearly an ego thing; he thought, in his ignorance, that because of his fairly high station he was entitled to her fidelity. What an idiot. “I don’t get used, not by anypony!” he shouted, puffing out his chest, his eyes flashing as he attempted to grab her with a spell.
If Redsky was anything, she was agile. She dipped her nubile body, dodging the clumsy stallion’s spell and crossing the room in one short burst, grabbing the now full bag along the way. “No, you don’t get used,” she mewled, a small smile on her lips, “Only your wife does. Now you know how she feels, hmm? Maybe you’ll bond over it!”
“Fiend!” he shouted, picking up a lamp from his bedside table and throwing it at her full pelt. She angled her body a few inches to the side, and it crashed into the wall. “Harlot! Come back here right now!”
“What, so you can smack me about? I think I’ll pass,” Redsky smirked, popping a window latch with her hind leg.
“I know powerful ponies!” the stallion screamed, his face red as blood, “I can make your life a real misery!”
This drew a laugh from Redsky, sweet, innocent, and completely false. With a burst of energy she was before the stallion, planting a soft kiss on his cheek, “honey,” she whispered, freezing him in place from the sheer shock of her swift movement, “your little friends ain’t got nothing on mine, so don’t get any ideas. Nice knowing you.”
And with that, she was gone, tearing through the dark sky and leaving a burning, multi-hued mist in her wake as he no doubt stared after her. They always did.
She soon found herself in the city’s central district. She cast her eyes around as she took in the sight of ponies walking and floating about, working, relaxing, batting each other out of the way as they tried to get to their destinations faster. Each nightmare was more important than the rest, Redsky knew.
While it may have been dark to the point that torchlight illuminated much of the city, Redsky knew it was coming up to lunchtime. The sun scarcely reached the large, towering valley they called home, it was shrouded, divided from the warmth of the outside world. Redsky enjoyed the daylight for what little of it she saw. It was a chance to travel unimpeached by the limitations of her senses. Of all things, she often wondered what a sunset might look like.
Pragmatic thought breaking her reverie, she realised that it was time to eat. She turned then, just to feel a strong gust of wind cut the air behind her. She twisted to steady herself, finding a pony floating right in front of her, a small, cunning smile on her lips, her coat dark red, and a white mane with a streak of purple running throughout revealing her identity to Redsky, even through the darkness. She stood with her forehooves folded, her eyes slanted, and her tail swishing in the biting wind.
Redsky recoiled instantly upon recognising her. That, coupled with the shock of being snuck up on, forced a sharp gasp from her. With the gasp went her advantage, she might as well say what she was thinking. “You’re really creepy, you know that?”
“Creepy?” Arachno laughed, a disturbing and outright bone-chilling sound, “You flatter me, but you’re wrong,” ambling through the air, Arachno began to trace circles around Redsky, placing one hoof in front of the other as if she was stood on ground, “I’m not creepy, I’m downright terrifying.”
Redsky fought back a shiver. As much as she hated to admit it, even being in close proximity to Arachno could be perturbing, having a conversation with her was much, much worse. “What do you want?” she asked, a simple question to get this encounter over with as soon as possible.
“It’s not what I want,” Arachno smiled, her voice unreasonably loud as if she was issuing a command, “but what our Cauchemar wants,” eyeing Redsky once, Arachno began to wrinkle her snout, drawing slightly closer.
Redsky had to force herself not to recoil. “And what does he want?”
“You smell like sex,” Arachno stated, a sultry smile on her lips, “sweat and regret always make for an interesting scent. Who was it?”
Redsky chose to ignore that last comment, but she could feel her white fur paling regardless. “Just tell me what Cauchemar wants, please.”
“Well, if you insist…” Arachno smirked, coming to a stop before her, “Honestly, I don’t know much. We’re to gather in the castle and await further instructions. At least, that’s what Agora told me.”
“Wait, you heard from Agora?” Redsky repeated, puzzled. “Since when does she go around relaying orders?”
“Since she’s got one of those radios built into her body,” Arachno shrugged, “it’s not like anyone else but Broken Mirror bothers to carry one around anymore.”
“Of course, Cauchemar would have a fit if his prized student wasn’t available to contact at all times.”
“You almost sound jealous,” Arachno smirked, her tone as derisive as usual.
“Can we not?” Redsky motioned towards the castle, sat in all of its imposing splendor above them, “How about we talk and fly? I’m guessing this is something urgent, and I’d rather be there sooner than later.”
Broken Mirror pushed the radio back into her pocket space before teleporting out of her house, straight onto the street outside. Leaving the simple two-story stone building behind, she walked along the cobbled roads, the ground almost quaking under the pressure of her heavy, brown hooves. She knew flying would be faster, but she was still trying to get her head around the situation, to work out just what it was that Cauchemar may have wanted.
There weren’t many ponies in the world that Broken respected, but Cauchemar was one of them. Fifteen years ago, he had found her sitting at the base of a cliff, a still-healing gash running from her forehead to her cheek, the bodies of three fox cubs roasting on a fire as she made camp alone. She had only been a filly then, abandoned and alone. He had captured her effortlessly, and while she resented him for doing so at the time, content with the solitude, she soon realised that he was a powerful magician, much stronger than her, and found herself more than willing to receive his tutelage, which he soon offered.
Now, she was one of the most powerful ponies in Nightmaria, more than half as strong as the king himself. She would never express her gratitude, but she made her loyalty and respect clear. Still, that did not mean that Broken had no ambitions of her own, or that hers always coincided with those of her king and queen. The thoughts of her fellow champions certainly had no bearing on what she wanted at any time, nor what she might do to get it.
She disliked every single one of them, and she was happily open about that. Redsky was a philandering user, Nycto was a pompous, arrogant idiot, Arachno was a vaguely horrifying freak, Rainy Parade was weak in her sentiments, and Agora was, well, Agora. None of them had the power or shrewdness necessary to be in charge, and that is why she and she alone led the champions. Even if they didn’t see eye to eye, she ensured they were united. Not even Arachno had managed to disrupt that, despite the more than occasional attempt.
A pony crossing the street thought to glare at her as she shooed him out of her way—he hit the floor with a single flash of her golden eyes, picking himself up and scurrying away without a word. Broken had never got used to the unanimous negative public opinion she had gained since becoming a champion, and despite her hardly having been a social pony beforehand, she couldn’t pretend that she didn’t notice the looks or the quiet, insulting comments she received almost everywhere she went.
Sometimes, Broken wondered if the weak ponies realised how many times she had saved them from death, torture, capture, or even their homes being burnt down around them as they slept. The other races native to the valley weren’t so friendly, after all, and if it wasn’t for the intervention of Broken and the other Champions, there would be a lot more dead, injured, and disadvantaged ponies that would surely feel the impact, or nothing at all.
Nightmaria was hers in all but title, and the ponies that she walked past would do good to remember that. Casting the thought from her mind, she began to pick up her pace, walking towards a ramshackle building on the outskirts of town, where she was sure she would find Rainy drinking the day away.
She could have teleported there, but that took the fun out of things. What point was there in protecting a nation, in striving to be the most powerful pony of all that had lived, if one couldn’t drink in their surroundings from time to time? This city was hers, she wouldn’t miss out on seeing it whenever she could. Besides, she was still trying to decipher the reason behind Cauchemar’s call with no notice. The last time he had asked the champions to meet him immediately, there had been a coup in progress in Lupus Morsus, and four of the champions—Broken included—had been sent to ensure that the grey wolves were able to topple the snow leopard administration there.
That mission had been crucial at the time, as it had allowed lucrative trade routes to be established between Somnus Arctos and three other cities neighbouring Lupus Morsus. The snow leopards retreated to their capital, Panthera, and nightmare delegations were installed in the land now run by the grey wolves, allowing the nightmares to both expand and profit. It had been a serious benefit to all nightmares, who saw their welfare and wages alike increase significantly from all of the coin being brought in by the new operations. Likewise, technological advancement spiked, thanks primarily to Agora’s efforts to use minerals and gems mined from lands near the coup to further the power of their electrical and magitechnological devices.
Could this be as serious as then was? If so, what could it be? The dragons no longer bothered any of the cities in the valley or the lands to the south, the changelings as a collective appeared to be unaware of their presence, and the ponies of Equestria still had no knowledge of their existence. Barring the awakening of an ancient, malevolent and powerful creature, or some other nonsense, Broken failed to grasp just what it was that was meant to be happening all of a sudden.
As the tavern came into sight—its sign the carving of a llama with a long flute of champagne in the crook of its paw—Broken heard her radio signal once more. Stifling a growl at the untimely interruption, she summoned the thing to her lips, ready to tell whoever was on the receiving end that she was already on it, when the king’s voice cut her off.
“Broken, where are you? The others arrived almost ten minutes ago, we’re all waiting on you. Get to the castle immediately.”
The line went dead before Broken could think of a retort. This was just freaking brilliant. Broken was sure that the other champions had rushed to find their way to the castle just to undermine her, but she had no time to worry about that. She needed to be there, and she needed to be there now, she looked incompetent enough already. She knew it was her fault for wasting time, but she was surprised at how quickly the rest of them had mobilised. It almost belied a sense of urgency, perhaps there was something important she was missing here.
She would know soon enough. She began to teleport herself up the hilled terrain in small bursts, not moving far enough at once to exert any energy. She was sure the other champions would already be sneering at her when she arrived, she would not give them the satisfaction of seeing her panting too.
Cauchemar paced around his operation room, five of his champions gathered before him. All of them had been quiet for the most part, although at one point Nycto had spoken up, asking why they were all here. Cauchemar had quickly told her that they would wait for all to be present before discussing the matter at hand, and with a few grumbled, crass words she had quickly fallen back into silence.
Time was pressing. Cauchemar knew that the beginning of this mission wasn’t a matter of immediate urgency, but engaging in this without first consulting Queen Phant or any of his advisors would surely cause arguments. He wanted this thing planned out and well underway before any of them caught wind of it, and for that, he needed everyone present.
He was beginning to become irritated with Broken. His wife didn’t like her, and he could understand why, but since he had met her, he had grown a soft spot for her. He had to admit, she had the most natural magical ability of any pony he had ever met, including himself. That wasn’t to say that he thought she could surpass him, he who had been imbued with ancient and powerful magic when he ascended to the throne, but with time, it was possible that she could come quite close. A pony like that was worth keeping on the good side of, but above all, Broken’s determination and aspiration was endearing, he saw a powerful drive and strong willpower in her. The main cause of his annoyance was what he didn’t see, Broken’s presence.
She had been notified first, and it was unlike her to be late. While it was true that a couple of the champions were inherently faster than her—namely, Arachno and Redsky—he had expected her of all ponies to arrive on time. Did she not see the importance of his summons? Did she not understand the severity of ignoring his orders?
When she did finally arrive—not teleporting in as usual, but throwing the doors open and striding in with a carefree look on her face—it only served to anger him more. Still, he decided to save his frustrations, focusing on the task at hand. It wouldn’t do well to berate the leader in front of her subordinates, not with what he was about to order.
When all of them had taken their place, he began talking. He told himself that what he was doing was out of necessity, but he couldn’t help the small element of unbridled excitement that worked its way into his tone as he addressed the six that were gathered before him. All of them were to be the first witnesses of a plan that could very well change the life of every nightmare.
“Champions,” he softly bowed to them all. It was a matter of courtesy and respect, none of them came close to matching his station. All of them returned a deeper bow, and when they were finished, he continued. “The reason I have gathered you all here is simple. Know before anything that your actions, should they be successful, will improve the lives of all nightmares. Champions, the time to return to Equestria is upon us.”
Agora and Nycto both gasped. Broken seemed to twinge in place,as a small grin appeared on Arachno’s muzzle. Rainy said nothing but kept her eyes trained on the king, and Redsky seemed to gauge the reactions of the others. It was Broken that spoke first.
“Are our armies fit to invade? Unless I am mistaken, we know little of Equestrian defenses. Even seeking out the grey wolves to bolster our troops may not be sufficient—”
“Broken, I did not give you leave to speak,” Cauchemar barked, his voice carrying the authority of a hundred kings before him, “also, I did not mention anything about attacking the Equestrians. Rather,” he smirked, beckoning them to approach the table he stood before, various papers and scrolls laid out before him, “if this pans out correctly, I would rather we avoid any direct conflict.”
“And why won’t we fight?” Broken demanded, her frustration spiking, “I understand strategy, but a battle of this calibre would be a serious chance to test my strength.”
Cauchemar silenced her with a glare. “This situation is far bigger than your thirst for battle and strength, Broken Mirror, please try to remember that.”
Dejected, but clearly not willing to argue, Broken merely nodded at her king. Cauchemar was used to her willingness to fight, but such notions would be better put aside in favour of what was practical, at least for now.
Arachno raised a burning hoof; Cauchemar nodded in her direction. “Despite that being a total let down, I’m intrigued. If we aren’t attacking, just what are we doing?”
“The first step will be reconnaissance, the second will be earning the trust of the Equestrians. You five,” he gestured to everyone except Nycto, “Will be travelling to Equestria, where you will pose as refugees. You will seek asylum in Equestria, claiming to have escaped from an evil, totalitarian country of nightmares, and from there, you will integrate yourselves into Equestrian society, learning all you can of their cities, their defences, their alignments, their knowledge of us, and anything else you can find. Information pertaining to the Tree of Harmony and its champions, as well as the alicorns that rule could prove invaluable also. Nycto, you will handle these operations from home, corresponding with the other champions as well as your own ponies.”
“So let me get this straight,” Redsky snickered, floating into the air and looping above everyone, “you’ve got us entering Equestria and using lies and deception to gain a position of trust there? I can dig it, but what if they don’t take the bait? What happens then?”
“There seem to be a lot of variables to this plan,” Agora nodded, “besides, are we gearing up for invasion or diplomacy?”
“...That is still to be decided, but until then, you have your instructions. I’ll expect you to be prepared to leave within three days. Traversing the terrain between here and Equestria shouldn’t prove too difficult for nightmares of your calibre, but I cannot tell you what to expect when you arrive. Keep your ears perked up and your wits about you.”
“Diplomacy?” Nycto spat, forgetting her place once again, “You would even consider fostering relationships with the scum that put us here in the first place? I say we find a way to get our people inside and show them what it means to trifle with a superior race, banish them off to some heaven forsaken wasteland in the middle of freaking nowhere, see how they like it.”
“Nycto!” Broken shouted, not even turning to acknowledge her, “That is enough. No one asked if you agreed with your king’s choice. You are here for your obedience, not for your opinions, no one here could care less what you think. Is that clear?”
Nycto harrumphed, giving a stunted nod.
“You shouldn’t complain,” Arachno sweetly smiled, “at least with you being left behind, you’re free to look after your—”
“You shut your mouth,” Nycto snapped, “You have no idea what you’re talking about, so don’t even bother finishing that sentence.”
“Are you finished?” Cauchemar sighed, looking between the bickering pair, then to Redsky above, currently giggling at the display as Agora rolled her eyes. “This is meant to be a bid to change our entire way of life, to truly save our people and make our lives better, and all you seem to be doing is arguing like children.”
“You forget,” Redsky hummed, spinning her body in little loops as she flew, “Equestria or not, saving the world and doing crazy stuff is just another day for us, really.”
“Want me to drag you down here by your tail?” Broken glared up at her, “Don’t be so disrespectful.”
“Oh, no, let me drag you down!” Arachno purred, beginning to take flight, “I’ll have you on the floor in seconds, trust me.”
“Oh, that’s cute! You’re cute. I’d like to see you try,” Redsky winked, climbing higher towards the ceiling and zipping around in wide loops.
“What did you just call me?!” Suddenly, Redsky was frantically dodging a very angry Arachno, zipping around the room with her tail billowing behind her as her hooves released a torrent of flame.
Cauchemar had to bite his tongue, reminding himself that despite appearances, this was his elite fighting squad. This was his chance of getting his people back into Equestria, his greatest opportunity to achieve his life’s goals. Cauchemar may have had a group of power-hungry antagonists for an elite troop, but he had faith in their abilities, and above all had to trust that there was no way they could fail him, even with all that was potentially at stake here.
Still, he wished they would act more mature at times, his voice could only handle so much shouting.
