Twilight Sparkle loathed tardiness. It represented the beginnings of a bad day. Lateness meant falling behind schedule, which meant that you had more work to do later that could have been done now. It was also disrespectful. It meant you did not take who you were meeting seriously, or what you had set aside this time for was not worth your attention, or of real worth.

Nobles were almost always late to meet Princess Cadance.

Twilight huddled near the Imperial Dais, standing a few feet behind Raven Inkwell, almost hidden next to the curtains that hung from the great arched ceiling. She desperately hoped she had everything she needed. Her checklist had been gone over half a dozen times, but still, she feared she had missed some piece of stationary, some spare quill, or the seal die of the Office of Her Imperial Radiance's Bookkeepers that she had been entrusted with by Raven.

Twilight could feel the weight of it in her saddlebag, in spite of her fears. Heavy bronze and silver magically sealed together to create a stamp with the image of a blazing sun and quill, countless interweaving flares from the Sun's surface created an immensely complex sigil. In addition, unlike her father's seal as Head Astronomer, this one did not require wax. Instead, it would magically raise and char the special paper used by the Office, creating a burned image of the seal. Princess Celestia's personal seal apparently used the same sorts of enchantments.

'To bear this seal is a heavy responsibility,' Raven had said, eyes hard with expectation, face set with duty. 'I will allow you to carry it as you assist me. It is no toy. Do not play with it, do not lose it, and never misuse it.'

Twilight felt honoured and afraid. She knew that the seal had the authority of the Office of Bookkeepers, whose head - Day Steward of the Imperial Household Raven Inkwell - held the Right of Inquiry on behalf of Princess Celestia herself. Which meant that this seal had the power to order any single body within all of Equestria to provide whatever records they have. From sealed files and service reports of the Intelligence Service to the accounting of Sweet Apple Acres or Doughnut Joe's.

And it was in Twilight's bag. Her responsibility. Raven trusted her to carry it during court. A stupid little filly.

The massive room was beginning to fill up with the first offerings of the afternoon court. The reporters came in first, they always did. Celestia had only allowed a small set to observe her proceedings, a select few of which had rooms in the palace to act as permanent correspondents. Cadance had allowed more out of a desire to be more open to the ponies of Equestria about the goings-on of the Regency.

Twilight thought that Cadance regretted it, the way her shoulders would always tense up at their presence, her eyes grow slightly tighter. From her position to the left and behind of Cadance she could see her wing muscles tense, then slowly loosen over and over.

The Court Crier continued his work, "- Redgrove, Duke of Vintier, and his son, Blueblood."

Twilight felt pleasantly surprised to see the pair of nobles. They were first on the Court's schedule and had not run behind as every noble had yesterday - all of whom burst in five to ten minutes late, making a fuss about the traffic or dreadful directions as if they hadn't been attending Celestia's court their entire lives.

Duke Redgrove was a slight unicorn, small-framed and of moderate height. His horn had a crack running down the side of it, it made Twilight cringe a little to look at it - that sort of injury would heal on its own in a few very painful weeks, but it showed that something must have struck him across the head, and with force enough to crack bone. His horn was leaking a small trail of blue-green magic that dissipated through the air as he walked, mixing with his ruby-red aura.

His son, Blueblood, had an alabaster white coat and a brilliant golden mane, his aura of a similar yellow radiance. He was her age or so, and strode with utter confidence beside his father, blue eyes searching the staff arrayed on the dias. They locked on her, a light of curiosity in them, and a strange look of dislike that made Twilight uncomfortable. She shuffled on her hooves and looked away as the pair approached the dais.

When they reached the base and bowed, Cadance spoke, "Duke Redgrove, I am pleased to receive you so far from your home. I trust the journey was not difficult?"

"No, Your Radiance," the Duke replied, his voice soft and cultured, every syllable careful and precise. "It was as pleasant as always, the new Manehattan Railway is clearer than ever, and they chose their approach to Canterlot well. It is rare that I can appreciate such views, although it never matches that which sits in the throne to welcome me, and you do not fail in that regard, Your Radiance."

"Thank you, Duke Redgrove. I had feared this might be a boring morning, but you have begun it well. Although my beloved Aunt is not here to receive your usual attempts to woo her, I will be sure to pass on your wishes when she asks." Cadance's voice was pleasant, but firm - an undertone of authority that was not present when she normally spoke.

Twilight found it hard to believe this slim noblestallion made attempts to woo Celestia, but the rest of the court seemed well aware and there was a round of a few chuckles, and a few cameras gave small clicks - Celestia having thankfully banned the incredibly noisy shuttering sound of some cameras in the Court.

Redgrove took the chuckling in stride as if he were very accustomed to it. "Of course, Your Radiance, I appreciate your efforts. I would also like to introduce my son and heir, Blueblood, who will be remaining in the palace with me during my stay."

Blueblood gave another bow, deep and respectful, "Your Radiance, rumours of your beauty were not exaggerated. I am pleased to have the rare opportunity to meet you, and wish for Princess Celestia's swift and full recovery."

Twilight admired the young noble. She didn't know how he was so confident. His back straight, eyes forward, but respectful. Jaw set, legs firm. All while giving compliments in front of so many eyes, and the reporters. She shuffled a bit further back into the shadows, shame in her chest. His eyes flicked to her for a single moment before returning to Cadance.

"And I am of course pleased at an even rarer sight," He continued, voice even and pleasant, confident. "To see the chosen Apprentice of Princess Celestia taking up a place in court. Are you here in her capacity as Archmagus or in a less official role?"

The direct address made Twilight's stomach drop like a lead weight, and his question made her mind race. Archmagus? She wasn't anything, she - She noticed that all the eyes of reporters and guests were on her, and Blueblood was waiting for a reply. Her throat felt like sandpaper, her lips like they were fused together. She tried to reply, "T-t-t-th- n-no -"

Cadance cut in, voice firm, "Twilight Sparkle is here in her capacity as my Aunt's student, and with the blessing of her father, Head Astronomer Night Light."

For the best, she couldn't have done it herself. Her throat was tight, mind racing. She knew she couldn't speak in front of so many.

Here, Redgrove spoke even as his son went to respond, "Of course, and I hope she finds this time as educational as the rest of her tutelage. But as much as I wish to forever exchange pleasantries, I must move onto business, if you will permit me, Your Radiance?"

Redgrove gave her a very slight and somewhat apologetic look before fully focusing on Cadance as she gave a nod toward Raven Inkwell.

Raven stepped forward, levitating a paper before her, "In due accordance, you have petitioned the court to renew your Bottling License and Winery Rights, which under your purview as Duke of Vintier under the Noble Properties Edict of 1383 must be approved of by Her Imperial Radiance for exceeding a net worth of fifty-million bits. According to the castle records, your inspections have been complete and all filings and tax reports made."

Which meant it fell to Celestia to permit the noble to continue to run his business, one of the many, many restrictions on noble-owned ventures. Twilight had seen a few of the bottles from the Vintier Dukedom, they were very high priced according to her father - who was a fan.

Cadance took only a moment to reply, "Seeing as everything is in order and my Aunt has seen fit to renew your family's licenses for all these years, I will grant my approval and see the renewed deeds and writs of ownership will be sent to you."

The Duke gave a short bow, "My thanks, Your Radiance. I would also request a suite in the Palace for the duration of my stay in Canterlot, if it would please you."

Cadance nods once again, her wings tensing and untensing, "Of course, Duke Redgrove, as is your right. Arrangements shall be made immediately.

Twilight felt her stomach somehow drop even further. No nobles had been staying in the castle so far... This felt like her home, and now she had to share it with strangers? She gulped and tried to shove the feeling away. She wouldn't have to deal with Blueblood or his father, the castle was a big place.

The two bowed, Blueblood giving her one final look, and then they departed the throne room via a side door.

The next petitioner was a Countess. She was six minutes late.

"-and may Her reign be eternal, always lifted higher by the sacrifices of our noble city. This I swear to my dying day."

Fourteen-year-old Hurricane Gale finished her final oaths of the day. The history classroom of the Hurricane Academy of Military Strategy was utilitarian and square. Smooth cloud-formed bricks made up the walls and simple gems cast sunlight from the ceilings, large windows gave a commanding view of the esplanade that cut through the large campus, beyond which stretched the grand fortress-city of Cloudsdale. The class stood next to their even rows of desks, at attention, the last words of the Pledge to the Princess leaving the room dead silent.

Professor Soaring Skies regarded them all from his place at the front of the classroom. He was small, almost reedy - barely any of his military muscle left, but Hurricane couldn't blame him. The Professor had been honourably retired from Her Imperial Majesty's service after losing a wing and half a leg to a zebra alchemical bomb, and long-healed burns had stripped the fur from a good portion of his flank. According to his stories, he regrets nothing, and only wishes that he could have continued his service. The thud of his aluminium leg as he moves from his place at the front of the class drives home his noble sacrifice. The prosthetic one of the older ones, unbending and awkward, enchanted to allow it to stand firm on clouds.

Hurricane Gale admired him.

The Professor looked the even rows of pegasi students up and down for long seconds before finally grunting out, "Dismissed."

The dead silence of the room is replaced by quiet chatting and the shuffling of saddlebags being taken up, slung over neck and barrel.

Hurricane let out a breath and flipped some of her rainbow-coloured mane out of her face. In half a second she had her bag up and was slipping out of the room. Soft Breeze had wanted to speak to her right after class, and the sadness in her glimmering blue eyes had stuck in Hurricane's head all day. If if were those flank-hats from the Assault Course again she was going to rip them new ones - demerit and a shouting match with her mother or no.

The halls were packed with students dismissed from their own classes, all dressed in the quasi-military uniforms mandated by the school. Tight jackets over their back and flanks with holes for wings, black pants, white shirts, and caps. The jacket made the base of her wings itch terribly.

Hurricane didn't bother with her locker, she hadn't used it all year - she hadn't needed to. The extra book or two she hauled around in her saddlebag was worth the time she saved leaving school.

In less than a minute she was hopping out of the front doors, ignoring the stairs to the main grounds and kicking off with a flap of her wings - the air pushed against them, she could feel every single feather, feel the pull of every muscle, hear the whistle of air through her feathers. It made Hurricane feel alive.

She soared a few dozen feet up with that single flap, sending a few of her classmates reeling, and gave another flap. There was less resistance now that she had speed, her magic pouring over her body, melding around her very being, giving her greater speed. Gale forces played across her eyes, immune as they were to the wind, and her rainbow mane and tail were unleashed from their buns by the sudden acceleration, cascading out behind her in a menagerie of colours.

She had to resist the urge to yell in utter joy as the sensations of flight filled her, just like every day. That wouldn't have been cool. Or becoming of her mother's daughter.

Hurricane banked her wings and soared between two of the school buildings, the very tip of her wing flicking only mere millimetres from the cloud-brick. The fields opened up before her. There were six massive sections of beaten-down cloud marked with lines and stamped into shapes, some were for marching, others for sports or exercise. The school campus completely enclosed all of them with a variety of buildings, several of which students were expressly forbidden from.

At one edge of the fields were a collection of utility buildings holding all the equipment one could need for the fields. Soft Breeze always hid there while she waited for Hurricane to fly her home, or her parents to come to get her - too worried about bullies, Hurricane guessed.

A final mighty flap of her wings carried her across the fields, her hooves hitting the clouds beneath her with barely a whisper of sound. "Shy?" She called, cantering between the buildings, the decade-old, quite uncool, nickname easily crossing her lips.

She didn't have to search for long before she found Soft Breeze. The filly was in the same year as Hurricane, but they were nothing alike. Soft had a soft, butter yellow coat and pale pink hair, and the cutest teal eyes. Her wings were a bit small for her age and much smaller than Hurricane's. She, of course, was fit - everyone in Cloudsdale was, after all.

"Eep!" Shy practically jumped out of her bones, despite having been facing where Hurricane had emerged. "O-oh! Sorry, Dash, I just - well, I thought I saw some of the others following me..."

Hurricane felt rising anger in her chest, moving forward and draping a wing over the buttermilk mare. "It's alright, Shy - I'll give them a good beating again. The ones in Assault, right? They'll regret bothering -"

"I'm moving!" Shy said suddenly, almost shrinking away from the comforting wing. It all came out in a rush, she barely seemed to take time to breathe, "M-mom gave in and d-dad found us a h-house in Ponyville. They w-want me to go to a normal s-s-school... I'm sorry, Dash. I'm... I told them about school, and dad doesn't like the... the lifestyle here."

Hurricane felt cold inside. All of her anger at the Assault Course fleeing, and her joy from the flight had been banished like the wind. She swallowed, meeting Shy's eyes, "I - Moving? Ponyville? You're not gonna become a groundy, Shy! I - Come on, Shy. I can keep the Assault idiots away, and we've been working on your wing blades. You're already up to the advanced sets!"

"I - I'm sorry, Dash," she said, shrinking back a little, tears pricking at her eyes. Hurricane realized her own eyes were getting wet, and she tried to fight it down. "My parents are decided... T-theyre selling the house back to the City today. I'm... I'm sorry."

Hurricane's coldness vanished with a wave of desperation. "Shy, we promised - I told you I'd protect you, and we'd be friends forever! Come on, it's not - We can't just go back on it! We're gonna join the Officers together, go defeat the griffons once and for all! Like we said. There's plenty of room at my house, I can ask my mom - and if she says no I can hide you in my room, I have way too much -"

Shy interrupts her, "No, Dash," she says, voice quiet, almost a whisper - but it stops Hurricane in her tracks like she had been slapped. She tears start to prick at her eyes, and a wet trail down her cheeks.

She moves up, pressing her face into Hurricane's chest. "Dash... I don't want to... go into the Legion," she says, voice barely audible, soft. "I - I did when I was little, when we met... But I can't imagine hurting ponies..." Her words were so small, barely leaving her mouth, "I don't want to go far away and fight. That's what you want to do. I'm sorry."

"You.. don't want to go into the Legion?" Hurricane felt like her hooves had been pulled from under her. "But... But Shy, they aren't ponies, they're just griffons - and we need -"

Shy once again cut her off, for the second time in their lives. "Dash - they're... They're ponies just like us. Even if they're not ponies. It... it makes me a little... when you talk like that. It always has. We don't need to do this, Dash... M-my dad says everywhere else in Equestria isn't like this. Isn't like Cloudsdale."

"Well other places are wrong!" Hurricane burst out, her chest tight, head numb, voice thick with the tears falling down her cheeks. She backed away from Shy, "They're wrong! They're not like us! They're monsters! They killed my brother, and your uncle, and all kinds of other ponies! I'm going to make sure they never hurt anypony again!"

Hurricane turned and fled, ignoring the "Dash, wait!" that was barely past Shy's lips when her wings flapped. In an instant, she was in the air, soaring away from Shy.

Away from the only real friend she ever had.

Twilight's latest trip to the Archives had borne more fruit than she ever could have hoped for. Her hooves felt light, mind content, completely absorbed in the tome on mind spells - ones specifically relating to affecting sleeping ponies, or affecting sleep in general. She felt sure this one would have something that might help Celestia. It had to.

The now-familiar halls of her home passed her in blurs. Familiar shapes of guards and servants deftly avoiding her or nudging her away from walls on her way back. Every step lit up the floor beneath her with familiar honeycomb patterns of spells, scanning her every hoofstep anew for her right to walk these halls. She felt safe, she felt complete, she felt -

"Oh, Lady Twilight, I have been looking for you."

She was ripped from her thoughts by a familiar voice, a lead weight falling into her stomach, tearing her from the book. Looking up, she met the eyes of Blueblood, alabaster coat shining, blue eyes curious and intent. She was surprised to note she didn't have to look down at him, she was tall for her age - and everyone else in her grade was always shorter than her.

She swallowed thickly, shuffling her hooves, glancing around - they were standing in front of Celestia's least favourite painting, the First Sunrise. He briefly followed her gaze to the painting, but kept speaking, "I want to apologize if I startled you in court, I had not realized you struggled in public. I hope there are no hard feelings?"

Twilight swallowed again and managed a response, nerves jangling. "N-n-n-no, It's f-fine... I-i'm j-just..."

He frowned, and cut her off, surprise on his features, and an immediate note of dislike, "Why are you stuttering? I thought you were Princess Celestia's apprentice."

She felt suddenly defensive, but quailed under his eyes, feeling strength leaving her limbs. "I-i-i-i a-am - she c-ch-chose me h-herself!"

"With a stutter? Strange. I would have thought your parents would educate you better, with your lineage. It is a shame what happened to your Duchy, fodder for earth pony farmers now. Ponyville, isn't it? Fortunately, we have avoided Her Radiance's ire as of yet, but - Why are you crying?"

Twilight hadn't realized streaks were flowing down her cheeks at the brisque tone of the colt. Her hooves felt shaky, and she sniffed, taking a step back from him, shame filling her. It was hard... Too hard... She hadn't spoken to anyone from outside since she got here. She was just a dumb failure. It was too scary, it was -

She felt a hoof on her shoulder, and her attention was brought back to Blueblood. His eyes were suddenly softer, more apologetic, actual worry in them - but still, she pulled back. "I'm sorry," he said, "Are you alright? I didn't mean to make you cry - but really, what is with that stuttering? I haven't even begun insulting you yet and you're crying. It removes the fun."

Twilight shook a little more, her telekinetic grip on her six book stacks wavers a moment, drawing Blueblood's eyes, which widen a fraction. "My, really - all this power and you stutter? I thought you were going to be insufferable. I wanted to be her student, you know. I suppose everypony does. But it was you..." He looks back at her, eyes a war between dislike and pity. "How did you get it? Your family hasn't held land for six-hundred years."

Twilight went to speak and he cut in again, "And don't stutter. Take your time. Form the words. It's embarrasing for one of your stature, and I won't have one that I was looked over for stutter, let alone the inheritor of Starswirl the Bearded's defunct legacy. At least have your pride. You are Her Radiance's student above all else, and there are expectations."

Twilight felt a sudden surge of defiance rise in her, small as it was. She focused, glaring at him, feeling her hooves start to even, and her magical grip grew stronger. "I..." She struggled, forcing her mouth to obey her, focusing with her might. Her books compressed under sudden pressure. "Did... better."

She met his eyes, defiant, but already her burst of passion was leaving her. Defying bullies had never gone well, and her teacher, she suddenly felt afraid - feeling terror creep up her legs. Before she could give in to the fear, Blueblood cut through her mental war.

To her surprise, he smirked slightly in the face of her aggression, seeming pleased with himself. "Yes, I suppose you did. I'll make a noble of you yet, Sparkle. Come along," He orders, turning, flicking his head and casting his golden mane over a shoulder, "Put your books in your room, and then I'm showing you my collection of toy soldiers."

"W-what, I-I-i-" She tried to cut in, but his voice overtook her yets again, "And no stuttering or I will begin to insult you again."

Twilight felt perturbed, angry, frustrated. There was a fire of defiance in her chest. She could speak right if she wanted to! She didn't have to prove it to this.. this idiot! She was Princess Celestia's student! And she didn't need to follow him if she didn't want to!

She stamped a hoof, petulant, "But -" She focused, hard. "I don't... want... to."

Blueblood looked back at her, hmming. "Well, I suppose you can show me your room then, and your books. I've never been a heavy reader, but if the Princess' student is studying them they must be interesting. Very well, you win, Sparkle. Show me your room."

Twilight felt triumphant, ecstatic. She won! She got him. And without stuttering! Delighting in her victory, she resumed her path to her room, Blueblood trailing after her.

"So, Sparkle, tell me about your studies - what is it like working under the Princess? No stuttering either, or I won't look at your books."

Twilight felt a twinge of challenge from the noblecolt and stood straighter, focusing.

She began to tell him. Slowly.

Hurricane got home in record time. She burst through the great double doors and into the main foyer of her home, the room was long and grand, clouds carefully formed and dyed into menageries of wondrous colors, all reflecting sunlight from the great open windows at the end of the hall. Two spiral staircases would take her up to the higher levels of the mansion, to her room, but that wasn't what she wanted.

She wanted to see her dad, and he would be in the statue gardens.

She was halfway down the foyer when she heard voices coming from the West Wind Sitting Room. An unfamiliar stallion's voice was speaking, soft and with an edge that made her spine tingle.

"- a squad of Night Guard have agreed to support us."

Another voice spoke up, this one a mare's, also unfamiliar to her, "Will they be enough? I know they hunt monsters, but they've never dealt with a foe like this."

The stallion's voice responded, Hurricane's curiosity making her slow as she passes in front of the closed door, "It will be enough, we have two companies of Royal - Somepony's at the door."

There was a small sigh, another mare - this one Hurricane knew very well. Her mother's voice called out, strong and powerful, full of natural authority and self-assurance, "Hurricane, come inside. It's rude to eavesdrop."

Hurricane would have muttered a curse, but she's sure her mother would have heard. She didn't want to talk to her mom... She just wanted a hug from dad. But she steeled herself, and stood straighter. Her mane was a mess from her speedy fight, but nothing could be done about that. Time to meet more of mom's friends.

She reached a hoof up and pushed the door open, slipping into the sitting room. There were more ponies than she expected, and all of them looked important. There was an earth pony stallion in a suit, a unicorn mare in a Royal Guard dress uniform - the bards on her shoulders marking her as a Lieutenant. The two she heard talking? There were others in the room, too. A Royal Guard Sergeant, then a Legate in the corner of the room, another pony in an IS uniform. What was going on? Half of these ponies shouldn't even be able to walk on clouds...

Hurricane finally looked to her mother; East Wind. She looked every bit the descendent of Grand Consul West Wind, Hurricane's namesake and ancestor, and one of the Three Consuls of Cloudsdale. Tall and golden-furred, a rainbow mane tightly woven into braids and decorated with silver bands. She was adorned in a traditional toga, the silk-white and purple cloth draped over her body while leaving both wings free, each of which gleamed with her ancestral wingblades, wielded by the Hurricane himself. Atop her head, framing her stately face, slim jaw, and strong cheekbones was a golden laurel wreath, marking her status as Consul. Her orange eyes bored into Hurricane, glancing her over, a frown coming to her lips, eyebrows furrowing.

"You're a mess, Hurricane. What happened to your mane?" Her voice wasn't loud, mother never shouted, but she could be heard in every corner of any room she was in. Everyone Hurricane had ever seen deferred to her. Always.

Hurricane tried not to shuffle, standing still and proud as she could, despite the increasing urge to cry as her mind returned to Shy leaving. "I flew home, mother," She got out, managing to keep her voice even. "I wanted to see if I could beat my previous time."

"And I suppose you'll have lost some of your books again?" Her mother's critical voice made her want to cringe, but she forced the urge down. Not in front of all these ponies. Never in front of Mother.

"In any case," her mother continued after a beat of silence. "I wanted to introduce you to these fine ponies, you will need to know them eventually. This is my daughter," She turns her eyes to the rest of the room, and immediately Hurricane saw any air of disapproval or amusement vanish from the watchers. The steel in her mother's eyes made Hurricane feel safe when it was directed to others. "Hurricane Gale, give your respects."

Hurricane unfolded a wing and arched it in front of her, giving a slight bow - picture-perfect, except for her wild mane. "Good afternoon, I apologize for my dishevelled nature, gentleponies. I was irresponsible."

The stallion in the suit spoke, his voice soft, once more making her spine tingle with discomfort, his eyes too intent on her for comfort. "Of course, Hurricane Gale. It is no issue. I am -"

Her mother interrupted the stallion, to his annoyance, taking a few steps closer to Hurricane - partially placing herself between the stallion and her. Hurricane felt a shiver go down her spine, and inched a little closer to her mother as she spoke, "Hurricane, this is Reclusive Mind, the former Director of the Intelligence Service. He was dismissed by Princess Celestia over some business in Canterlot."

"A most... unfortunate series of events, but I live to serve the Princess" He spoke again, voice low.

Her mother pressed on, not replying to Reclusive, "This is Lieutenant Ferrus of the Royal Guard's Fourth Century." The mare gave a small nod to her, and her mother began to introduce the whole room, "And this is Sergeant Ripe Orange, her second." She nods to the Legate now, who stands a little taller, a powerfully built earth pony mare, "Legate Emerald Cut of the 27th Legion, and finally Senior Controller Sweetie Drops of the Intelligence Service," The final earth pony mare was slight and thin with a beige coat, her pink and blue mane carefully done up in a tight bun. Her uniform was immaculate, but she had heavy bags under her eyes and looked exhausted. She gave a slight nod at the introduction.

"It is a pleasure," Hurricane managed at the group of odd ponies - why was her mother meeting with them? "I hope I didn't interrupt anything too important?"

"No," Her mother immediately replied, voice firm. "I will tell you more about it later. For now, go and find your father."

Hurricane almost bolted out of the room immediately but forced herself to be still and slow. She gave another short bow, wing curled in front of her, "Good day, I wish you fortune in your meeting."

There was a murmur of farewells, then Hurricane slipped from the room, shutting the door behind her. She made sure she was further down the foyer and firmly out of earshot of her mother before she let out a shuddering breath, slouching and letting her wings sag.

She tried to put the odd meeting out of her mind as she made for the gardens, the thought of finding her father now occupied her focus.

It didn't take long. Topal Waves would have stood out in a crowd of Cloudsdale Pegasi. Teal coat, ocean blue eyes, and a mane the colour of a sunset over the ocean. But really, the most notable thing about him in a place like this was the bit of pudge around his flank and body. No one from Cloudsdale had pudge. But, of course, her father wasn't from Cloudsdale - he was an islander pegasus from the Emerald Sea.

He spotted her immediately, turning and opening his wings, striding over to her with a concerned smile on his face, "Hurricane! You're back from school - and your eyes? Are you alright, my little rainbow?"

Hurricane let her father hug her and buried her face in his chest, "Y-yeah," she sniffles, trying to fight back a new wave of tears. "M' alright..."

"Don't give me that," he gently chided, wrapping her in his wings, "You've been crying, and my little rainbow doesn't cry unless something is really wrong. Go on, it's just us."

"You won't tell mom?" The question was quiet, Hurricane finding it a little hard to get out.

"Oh, Rainbow," her father sighs, pulling her a little closer, "You know your mother loves you, right? She just finds it hard to express that. She cares about you, and shows it the only way she was taught."

"I know," Hurricane replied after a few seconds, sniffling, "But she feels so mean sometimes. And she never liked Shy anyway..."

"Soft Breeze?" Topal questions, "Did something happen at school again?"

Hurricane tried to hold in the sob, but failed, burying her face harder into her father's chest, "S-she's moving. H-her dumb dad convinced her mom that Cloudsdale was b-bad and that they needed to move. S-she's going, and I'm n-never going to see her again!"

Topal didn't speak for a while, just holding her as she cried. It took some time, but eventually, she started to regain control of herself. Then, her father's soft voice spoke up, quiet, just for the two of them, "Rainbow, you'll see her again. We can visit sometime, wherever she goes - and you'll still be friends. I still remember the day you came home from the first day of Junior Wingsters yelling about your new best friend - and your first fight," She could hear the smile in his voice, and didn't try to hold back the slight, wet chuckle at the memory of her first day at school.

Still, when she spoke again, her chest felt heavy, "M-mom won't let us visit them. They're moving to some groundy town called Ponyville... You know how much she hates that..."

She felt her father's sigh more than heard it, and he rubbed a hoof along her back. "Your mother doesn't hate other tribes, Rainbow. She just doesn't understand them."

"Then why'd she marry you?" Hurricane asks. She knew the pair loved each other, Topal was practically the only person alive who had ever made her mother giggle, or grin. Hurricane wouldn't have thought her mother had a soft side if it wasn't for Topal, who she had refused dozens of high-class pegasi suitors for - a fisherpony's colt.

She could hear her father's smile in his voice, "Because I've got a silver tongue, Rainbow."

Hurricane giggled a little, closing her eyes and pressing her face against her father's chest as he kept speaking, "I'll talk to your mother after her meeting, and ask about travelling to see Shy, I promise."

She nodded again, relaxing a little now that her tears had been shed, in the embrace of her father. Sure of his promise that he would try and convince mother. If anyone could convince her, dad could.

He failed.

Author's Note

Alright boys, I'm back again. New job, no longer in financial danger, and feeling better. I hope all of you enjoy the chapter! We're back on track now, to Twilight and introducing a few other elements this chapter, but they won't pull from the main plot like the war section did. (And you will be hearing more of the aftermath of Shining's event, I promise)

Enjoy!