The Ghost of Coltistrano

Chapters

Chapter 2: “Sergeant Silver Spade, do you accept this board’s offer?”
Chapter 3: “The seas are dangerous.”
Chapter 4: “Certainly, a young stallion like yourself has heard the tales.”
Chapter 5: “My enemy was a notion, not a nation”
Chapter 6: "Strike first."
Chapter 7: “If you are to inherit anything from me, you must earn it”
Chapter 8: “He’s mentioned that thing before, talked about it like something out of a horror story.”
Chapter 9: “We have survived worse”
Chapter 10: “This isn’t right, Gilda, this isn’t my home.”
Chapter 11: “I’ve been dead for six years”
Chapter 12: "That monster has taken too much from me already."
Chapter 13: “Morality does not staunch wounds”
Chapter 15: “Not everypony’s inside matches the outside.”
Chapter 16: “Now presenting, for the first time at the Grand Galloping Gala”
Chapter 17: “Don’t believe everything Canterlot tells you, darling..."
Chapter 18: “Have you forgotten everything I taught you?!”
Chapter 19: "You were… of use.”
Chapter 20: “I promise.”
Chapter 21: “Everything I am… I owe to you.”
Chapter 22: “What was his name?! I want to hear you say it!”
Chapter 23: “I wish to provide testimony.”
Chapter 1: “I almost had you.”
Chapter 14: “How can I do what’s right if all I feel is hate?”

Chapter 2: “Sergeant Silver Spade, do you accept this board’s offer?”

- 2 years before Nightmare Moon’s Return -

Breathing, among other things, was almost impossible in a packed train station. Dozens, if not hundreds of Canterlot citizens lined flank-to-flank, shifting and bumping into each other, tripping over decorations placed around the station. Streamers and balloons lined the platform, large banners with the words “Welcome Home, Troops” stretched across the building both inside and out. In the corner, safely warded off from the tight-packed crowd, was a brass band hired for such occasions. Finally, the station whistle sounded and brought the ears of the eager ponies to rise.

“Do you think this is the one, Trusty?” asked a chestnut mare excitedly, clinging to the white stallion next to her.

“It may be, I-I can’t see it very well,” he said with a noticeable twang in his voice. The stallion craned his neck as far as one could over the other craning ponies, desperately trying to identify the incoming train. Two ponies next to them followed suit, a dark blue stallion looking over.

“What do you see, Night Light?”

“Uuh, well…” Night Light trailed off, tongue sticking out of his mouth in concentration. The grey unicorn beside him blew her purple fringe out of her eyes and huffed.

“Alright, big boy, step aside. Honey, give me a boost.”

The chestnut earth mare lowered her haunches, allowing the unicorn to climb onto her back. With a grunt Honey straightened out, wobbling slightly to keep balance. “Is it the one, Ms. Velvet?” Honey looked up to her impromptu periscope, only to be pelted by the first few tears from the unicorn’s crying face. Without warning she hollered.

“Woo-hoo! That’s it! That’s the one! You see that, Honey Hearts? Our boys are back!”

When the sound of rattling wheels on steel tracks grew Honey Hearts found herself becoming giddy. She bounced in place jubilantly, still clinging to her husband and threatening to throw Ms. Velvet from her back. The murmuring of ponies grew into cheers, unable to ignore Ms. Velvet's announcement, and the brass band began tuning themselves while conductors and station workers herded the anxious ponies to the sides of the platform, restricting the already minuscule space.

A final whistle blew loud into the air, signaling the train’s approach. The train, unlike the colorful civilian models, was a massive hulk of muted grey and gold metal and stretched for ten cars. A shrill squeal came from the breaks as if signalling the band began to play, a triumphant melody echoing out when the metal doors slid open to reveal dozens of armor-clad guards of every shape and color. The crowd before them erupted in cheers as the troops stepped out onto the platform. Each one hurriedly scanned the crowd for friends, family, and loved ones, ignoring the loose divider line when they were found. From the head car came two ponies, armor adorned with three chevrons each, stopping just shy of the crowd for fear of being swallowed by it.

“Okay,” the unicorn sighed, pushing his blue mane from his face. “Where do you think they are?”

“As close to the front as they can be,” said the second, a white earth pony with a glistening silver mane, as his amber eyes scanned the crowd. “The moms get crazy when we come home.”

“You think they’re doing the thing?” The unicorn quizzed, a smile stretching across his face.

“You mean the tower thing? Oh, you know they are.”

“Shining! Silver!”

The sergeants turned just in time to witness the once piggybacking mares leap over the crowd and crash into them. A fountain of praise and adoration came spewing from Honey and Twilight Velvet, followed quickly after by Night Light and Trusty Steed. Before the two could recover, though, a second figure glided over the crowd in a purple aura and landed right onto Shining Armor’s back.

“BBBFF! Ooh, I missed you!” the giddy unicorn shouted, digging her face into her brother’s neck. Shining looked pleadingly over to Silver, who merely laughed before turning his attention to his own family. Honey Hearts brought Silver in for a hug, while his father only stood and smiled. “Oh, Trusty, would it hurt you to show some love?”

“Honey, he’s a big-” Trusty’s words were cut off by a mighty hug. After only brief seconds he relented and wrapped his forelegs around his son. “I missed you too, dad.” Silver’s words were just loud enough for his father to hear and the two held their pose.

A constant noise began niggling at Silver’s ear, turning to find Twilight and her persistent line of questioning as its source. Twilight, still on Shining’s back, was unrelenting in her interrogation about the conflict, the enemy, and what tactics proved most effective in the cold climate.

“Lay off, Twilight,” Silver called out. “We’ve been back for five minutes, let him at least get out of the station.”

“I will, I will, but you have to tell me what kind of weapons they used. How do yaks fight?” The two families followed the crowd of soldiers out into the streets of Canterlot, toward the Palace.

“How do you think, Twiley? With their heads!” Shining pulling Twilight over his back, playfully bonking his head against hers as she giggles out her surrender.

“YAKS BEST AT CAVALRY CHARGES!” Silver shouted in a brutish tone, eyes off center.

“ONLY YAKS KNOW HOW BEST TO RETREAT FROM PUNY PONY GUARDS!” Shining joined in, bringing out a bright laughter from within the two. The families could only shake their heads, hiding their smiles.

The streets of Canterlot shined in the sunlight. Along the streets were several shops and eateries filled with ponies, many of them adorned with signs and banners similar to the ones at the train station. All around, Silver and Shining could see their comrades with family, eating and shopping and some stopping to simply bask in the warm glow of their home. Moments like these were what brought Silver the most peace. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the Canterlot air, a long sigh punctuating the warm emotion bubbling within him for many days now: relief.

The streets gave way to the imposing stone walls of Canterlot Palace, gilded spires piercing high into the sky, and even through the sun’s glare Silver spotted messenger pegasi drifting between them, no doubt informing the dignitaries of their company’s return. The two guards at the front gate straightened their stance.

“Sirs!” the two guards said in unison, holding their hooves to their helmets.

“At ease,” Shining ordered with a firm tone.”We’re here for debrief.”

“Then you’ll be pleased to know, sir, the General’s Board is expecting you. They’re eager to speak with you two.”

Silver raised an eyebrow to Shining before shrugging and passing through the front gate, the rest of the group in tow.

Canterlot's bustle and chatter soon melted away behind the castle walls. In its stead were the sounds of birds chirping and fluttering from windows, discussions of policy, guard placements, and visiting dignitaries held in hushed, polite tones among the castle’s occupants. Silver strained to listen. Passing by two well-to-do looking ponies, he overheard news of royalty having arrived at the palace. Past the opening courtyard the group’s hooves came down upon the pristine marble floor of the castle entrance. The two sergeants knew their route well, carved into their minds from years of repetition.

“Past the grand staircase, west wing, up three flights, bronze door on the left,” Silver muttered.

Through the gilded hallways, pristine and meticulously decorated, the group found their way to the west wing of the castle. Two guards stood with their spears in hoof, eyes forward.

“Halt,” one hollered out. “This wing is restricted to military and royal personnel only. Your families will have to wait outside.”

“Oh, don’t worry about us, boys, go and do your work,” Honey said softly. “We’ll meet you at the party later. Oh, Silver?”

Silver turned at his mother’s call, only to be met with another warm embrace. Her forelegs tightened around her son’s neck, the wet of tears matting his coat.

“I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“I wouldn’t miss a homecoming, mom, you know that.”

Honey giggled before pulling away, turning to join the remainder of the group while the two soldiers entered the west wing of the castle. Along the comparatively plain walls were trophy cabinets and murals to those lost in past conflicts, each one a painted silhouette of the fallen guard it honored. While Shining remained steadfast, Silver’s face turned grim. The line of silhouettes, each standing in a salute, turning his fading smile into something dour. Honey's words came to his ears again, reminding him of the very real possibility he, too, could become another painting on the wall, a name plate his only effigy.

“You good, buddy?” Shining asked, nudging Silver with his elbow.

“Y-yeah, I’m good. The murals just creep me out, is all.”

“Why? They’re just paintings.”

“I know that,” Silver chided. “But… do you ever think about all those close calls we’ve had? Like how that pike you pulled out of Brass Bell almost got an artery? Or how Spearhead rolled out of the way just in time to dodge the yak charge?”

“I don’t have time to think about them, if you dwell on them you’re just distracted by what could have been instead of what is.” Shining put a hoof on Silver’s shoulder as they walked. “Our squads need us to remain focused and alert. We can’t afford to focus on the unknowns.” They met the tall marble staircase and ascended.

“But you’ve got to admit it scares you, right?” Silver said, looking his friend in the eyes.

“No, why would it? These are just skirmishes that’ll get patched up through diplomacy as always. Heck, you saw to that already back at the outpost.”

“They’re skirmishes now, but tomorrow they might not be. We’re soldiers, Shining, not the pretty town guard everypony gushes over. One day there’ll be a war, a real war, and we both have more to live for than just our squads and the thrill of combat.”

Shining’s words seemed to leave him. His sister, his family, his love. The thought of being lost on a barren field, away from them all, brought a sick tightness to his chest. “Dying would be a major bummer,” Shining finally uttered. “I bet Abby would tan my hide if I let you bleed out in the field.”

“Cadence would probably do worse, but given she’s an alicorn I’d love to see what she’d do to your corpse.”

“Hey, she’s a princess of love, not necromancy, but I’d be the most handsome zombie in all Equestria.”

“Even considering the zombies we’ve seen, it’d still be an improvement.”

“I bet we could convince Abby to bring you back as a golem or something, your head’s already got rocks in it.”

“If your sparkly magic business was worth a damn, Shining, you would’ve found a spell to help you think up a better comeback.”

“Yeah, well your face is dumb.” Shining stuck out his tongue as duo approached the bronze door, pushing it open and walking into the meeting room.

Silver and Shining were greeted by the sight of a full table of Equestria’s top brass. Generals and commanders of each division sat before them, some shuffling papers and reading reports, others chatting amongst themselves. From behind, though, the sound of giggling revealed the position of two assailants who sprung their affectionate trap on the sergeants.

The two yelled out. Silver, already suspecting a surprise attack, whipped around and lifted the assaulting unicorn mare into his hooves while Shining was lifted from the floor into a powerful hug, held aloft by Princess Cadence. At his side Silver looked upon the form of Countess Abundant Glow, her creamy yellow coat obscured by a glistening burgundy gown, who giggled into his shoulder.

“It feels like I’ve waited ages for you, Silver,” the countess said, her words landing on Silver’s ears like silk.

“I know, and I'd wait ages more if I had to.”

“You always say that,” she cooed, pressing herself deeper into the embrace

There was a firm cough from the table, though it did little to end the loving display unfolding before the General’s Board. Cadence finally descended, leaving a criss-cross of smooches all around Shining's face, earning her a loopy smile from the unicorn. Finally, one of the generals stood, a scarred blue pegasus mare.

“Ladies! That is quite enough,” her forceful tone echoed. “Sergeants, we request your attention.”

The boys snapped to position, as if by reflex. They saluted.

“At ease,” another general, a hulking turquoise earth pony ordered. He corrected himself, adjusting the several stars on his shoulder mounts. “I, Warmaster Frontline, now call this session into order. Raven, take note.”

From the far end of the table waved a thin, pale grey mare with dark-rimmed glasses. The chime of her magic hovered a quill to parchment.

“The sergeants, Shining Armor and Silver Spade, have been called before this board for summary debriefing and reassignment. Now,” the warmaster lifted a hefty document from the table. “This board has been made aware of the situation that took place north of the Galloping Gorge. An entire contingent of yak soldiers breached the perimeter and aggressed the civilians living in the area. You two and the rest of the 4th Company were called to neutralize the situation, correct?”

“Yes, sir.” both responded. The girls behind them giggled.

“And is it true that armed conflict did break out along the border towns?”

“Yes, sir.” they replied again. The two royal mares began to mock their stiff posture.

“Though it has come to our attention that despite this a diplomatic solution was reached. Can you confirm this?”

Shining nudged Silver forward. Cadence and Abby continued their imitation, until a stiff glare from the blue pegasus demanded their obedience. “Yes, sir,” Silver responded. “There was a break in the battle and I decided it was best to avoid escalation.”

The board whispered amongst themselves. A unicorn, a brigadier with a graying blonde mane, eyed him from the side of the table, ignoring the chattering of his fellows. “Can you explain your reasoning behind this act?” Frontline inquired.

“Yes, sir,” Silver gulped and took a breath, trying to calm himself before the very ponies in charge of his nation’s defense. “Civilians were successfully evacuated from the border towns, in accordance with protocol, but the engagement lasted several days. Over time our skirmishes brought more destruction to their homes and businesses. The lieutenant ordered damage control, but it was… well, with yaks nothing is ever easy.”

“Explain.” Members of the board leaned forward with greater interest.

“They began tearing apart the buildings they had occupied and started smashing the furniture and windows of homes. We believe it was an attempt to intimidate us. They kept chanting ‘Yaks smash best’ for hours, even at night... it was horrible.” Chuckles came from the seated commanders and Shining himself, their special humor a gift from years of conflict. Silver stifled his own laughter before continuing. “Soon the damage was too much, the civilians would barely have homes to return to if they continued. So, after dawn, I ordered my squad out to meet with the yak forces.”

“Was this an order given by your superior?” Frontline gave Silver a squint, the greatest extent of emotion he’d given so far.

“No, sir, the lieutenant was too busy drafting another letter asking what to do next.”

“Yes,” Frontline droned, flipping through the document in his hooves, eyeing the near-dozen missives from the mentioned lieutenant. “We received those, though you still felt compelled to disregard code of conduct and parley with an actively hostile enemy?”

“Yes, sir.” Silver spoke, firmly. “They were poor ponies, sir, and I grew up in a town just like theirs. I had to do something.”

The brigadier scoffed under his breath while the rest of the board commenced a second round of whispering. After a moment the warmaster raised his meaty hoof to silence them. The scratching of Raven’s quill halted.

“Sergeant Shining Armor, were you at any time made aware of this?”

“Yes, sir,” said Shining as he stepped forward. “Sergeant Spade formulated his plans just moments before he departed.”

At this, Frontline’s eyes snapped to Silver, his brow tense. A bead of sweat formed on Silver’s forehead, as if coerced out of his skin by the warmaster’s frightening gaze.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, Sergeant Spade, but am I to believe you elected to meet a hostile force with a squad a fraction of its size and attempt to reason with them, on their own ground, all on a whim?” The tightening upper lip of the warmaster scared more sweat from Silver as it matted his fur. A quick look at Shining showed Silver his friend was just as worried as he was. He would’ve taken another soothing breath had his muscles not locked up from fright.

“Yes, sir,” Silver shakily replied, more of a sigh than actual words.

The warmaster held his gaze, emphasizing the seemingly long silence piercing Silver’s ears. A smirk formed on the brigadier’s face. Finally, breaking the stillness like an ax through wood, the warmaster spoke. “Then it’s good we sent your company and not the entire battalion.” The room collectively sighed, save for one unicorn, whose eyes shot straight to his superior. “You made a bold move, Spade, but as far as I’m concerned you may have stopped a war before it began.”

Silver’s knees wobbled a bit, relief rushing to his head. His muted senses felt hooves and a kiss on his cheek as Abby helped steady him. The brigadier winced at the sight of this and began to stand.

“However,” Frontline near-growled, forcing the grey-maned unicorn back to his seat. “This board cannot overlook your blatant disregard for protocol and the chain of command in this instance. Therefore, I declare you will serve out administrative detention and disciplinary service before being transferred with Sergeant Armor to the officers academy.”

At this, the brigadier shot straight up from his seat. “This is unprecedented,” he shouted in his gravelly, yet robust voice as the board’s eyes shifted from the jubilant display. “This sergeant ignored protocol and risked the lives of the guards under his command. You wish to reward him?”

This earned the brigadier murmurs of support, with some of the board turning to the warmaster for clarification. Frontline remained unphased, however, and kept his firm tone.

“The sergeant has shown considerable wisdom in negotiations as well as threat analysis,” the warmaster simply stated. “And only a fool goes into such dangerous situations without support.”

“It would have at least been proper to notify me of such decisions.”

“A memo was delivered to your office the day before yesterday, though Ms. Inkwell informed me you were indisposed at the time.”

“The Articles of Military Structure,” the brigadier began, “state a guard may only advance to officer ranks with the authorization of his commanding officer. That superior is me.”

“Unless the General’s Board agrees to supersede said authority by a three-fourths vote,” Frontline stated, holding up the final sheet of his document. “A vote we have already taken.” The brigadier froze in place at the sight of the parchment, a thick row of officer’s stamped cutie marks adorning the dotted line of the form.

“Why was I not informed of this vote?”

“You were indisposed.” The board watched with rapt attention as the brigadier did his best to hide his grinding teeth. Frontline, though, still showed no change in his already stone-like demeanor.

“Sergeant Armor is already more than qualified to proceed to the academy, and far less insubordinate than his… friend.” The final word dripped from the brigadier’s mouth like poison.

“If it so comforts you, remember you are still his commanding officer and therefore have control over his disciplinary service. But the sergeant is going to the academy. That is final.”

“Frontline, I demand-”

“Brigadier Wall, you will address me by rank or ‘sir’!” Frontline stood from his seat, towering over the rest of the board. The brigadier remained standing, though, eyes darting from the warmaster to argent pony and the unicorn on his foreleg. At this he allowed his muscles to relax and spoke softly.

“Yes… sir. Please, excuse me.” The brigadier calmly trotted away from the table towards the back door. Without missing a beat, the warmaster turned to the sergeants standing wide-eyed before him and motioned for them to approach.

“Soldiers, you have both been accepted into the EUP Guard Officer Training Academy, where you will both begin a series of grueling tests to become leaders in our grand military.” Warmaster Frontline pushed a form to Shining Armor and presented a stamp. “Sergeant Shining Armor, do you accept this board’s offer?”

The chime of Shining’s magic rang out as a glow enveloped the stamp of his cutie mark, a six-pointed star emblazoned on a shield with three stars above it, and brought it down furiously onto the form. “I accept!”

Raven Inkwell approached and retrieved the form, blowing on the fresh ink and rolling it up as Frontline turned to Silver. “Sergeant Silver Spade, do you accept this board’s offer?”

Abby nudged Silver excitedly, who walked towards the warmaster, eyeing the stamp of his cutie mark, a black crystal card spade in front of a fan of playing cards, with a smirk before he swiped the stamp and brought it down onto the form. “I accept.”

Cheers echoed from the boardroom and down the hallways, ringing in Brigadier Wall’s ears, his pace quickening to a gallop as his charge threatened to trample the servants and cleaning staff in his wake. Rhythmic pounding thumped in his mind. A left turn at the royal library signaled his entrance into the magistrate section of the castle. Door after door he frantically passed, the rhythm quickening, before coming to the ornate office of the Chief Magistrate.

The door burst open behind Midnight Gavel who, with practiced poise, gingerly pushed it closed with his magic as the indigo unicorn turned to find the trembling form of Shield Wall, his friend, throwing himself onto a large leather chair. Midnight Gavel summoned a cup and saucer. “Tea?”

Bright gold eyes, contrasting his faded brown body, snapped to Gavel’s direction. All the brigadier could give was a shaky nod. Gavel floated the cup to Shield Wall’s lips, tipping it for him. This went on for several minutes.

“They are fools,” Shield Wall finally uttered. “All of them, allowing that… that…”

Midnight shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his muzzle. “Please tell me this isn’t about that sergeant again.”

“What else could it be about?! To think, I coordinate an attack on the Galloping Gorge, pay good bits for a destructive show, and what happens? That damned colt, is what!”

“Perhaps you should stop putting him in situations where he shines,” Midnight said calmly, his speech refined, lifting a second cup to himself.

“You think this is my fault? I command his unit, his superiors, and the enemy he was supposed to be killed by. Not only would we have a war, Gavel, but that petulant earth pony would have finally been out of my mane.”

Shield Wall sucked down the last of his tea, gritting at the burn in his throat, while Gavel simply filled his cup again. This was not the first time Midnight Gavel played the part of counselor, and the motions came like second nature.

“You cannot keep coming to me every time something doesn’t go your way. You are a soldier, battles are lost, you understand this.”

Grumbling was all that came from behind the lip of the cup, Shield Wall’s eyes focused on the empty space in front of him. “He does not deserve her.”

“For Celestia’s sake…” Gavel groaned softly, rolling his eyes. “This is your problem, old friend, you grow obsessive. First it was the crown, then that Ghoul character-”

“The Ghost,” Shield interrupted.

“Whatever. Then it’s the gold, then the frozen north, the princess, the sergeant, and now the countess. You allow these things to pile up.”

“There is a plan in motion, Midnight, were it not for so many obstacles.” Shield Wall's artention was only half on his friend, the rest still back in the boardroom reviewing each and every second leading up to his embarrassing retreat.

“And yet we have so very little to show for it.” This brought Shield’s full attention to Gavel.

“Do you lack faith?”

“We lack results. This was your dream,” Gavel retorted, pointing a hoof at Shield Wall. “A united Equestria, pure and untouched by villainy. To bring the masses salvation through fear of the unknown.”

“And we are doing just that. Once Nightmare Moon returns there will be fear abundant. It…” Shield’s choice of words forced him to trail off, his thoughts returning to the unicorn countess. Gavel sighed, his horn igniting in a soft, blue glow before touching it to his friend’s head.

Within the confines of Shield Wall’s mind the chaotic images of his conquests came into order, then melted away into a silent wall of white. His eyes closed and, drawing a long breath, he felt the tension ease away. He opened his eyes halfway and turned to Midnight. “Thank you, my friend. Where would I be without you?”

“Caught,” Gavel stated plainly. “Or perhaps dead. But, truly, you must maintain your calm.”

“Yes,” Shield said, looking out through the window over the courtyard below.

“Good, perhaps now you can actually accomplish something other than embarrassing yourself in front of the uninitiated. If our backers caught on to your little meltdowns they would be pulling their support and bits from the project faster than you can blink.”

Shield Wall continued his stare out the window, soaking in every detail. He counted the number of flaps a sparrow made with its wings as it flew from one branch to another. With focus, he read the lips of two scholars passing through the courtyard as they discussed the signs of Nightmare Moon. Even the pouring of tea behind him, he listened to the duration of the sound, from which he calculated the volume of the cup. There he stood, deep in thought, until Gavel’s words pulled him from his trance.

“Shield?” Gavel gave a curious look. “Are you better?”

“Yes, and I have just discovered the perfect therapy.”

“Oh… well that’s good to hear, old friend,” a genuine smile formed on Gavel’s face. “Perhaps I could help? It would save me a fortune on tea and-”

“I need to kill him.”

The smile faded as quickly as it came, leaving Gavel with a twinge of fear in his gut. Shield Wall was unmoved by his declaration and continued his gaze. “Why?” Gavel asked in an incredulous tone.

“You said it yourself, I need to remove the risk of disappointing our backers. And with your help...” Shield shot Gavel a knowing grin. "It will appear as a mere accident.”

“This is not what I meant. Deception is one thing, but assassination is messy, public. Ponies notice when somepony disappears.”

“But, my friend, I have been given the perfect opportunity for just such an action.” With a golden aura, the tea cup returned to Shield’s lips, who drew the liquid forth calmly. “I am, after all, in charge of deciding the sergeant’s disciplinary service.”

Gavel stood with his mouth agape, though Shield paid it no mind, instead choosing to drink the warm, soothing liquid as the Chief Magistrate tried to wrap his mind around Shield Wall’s logic. With a final sigh, though, he relented.

“What do you need?”

Chapter 3: “The seas are dangerous.”

Tapestries of stars dominate the sky, relinquishing the sun's place to Celestia’s raised moon. The streets of the city below were abuzz with merriment and warm lamplight, dancing across the cobblestone roads, illuminating the way for tired workers and excited party goers alike, the latter coming out in droves to several restaurants and taverns dotting the roadways. One such tavern, The Chimera’s Egg, boomed with cheers and laughter. From the windows, the passersby could see rows of scarred and tattooed ponies singing, drinking, their armor doffed and spirits high to celebrate their long-awaited return home.

Every available surface played host to the flank of a patron. Mugs and plates of food and drink came from behind the bar to be spread around, working hard to meet the demands of the tavern’s jubilant clientele. Shining Armor, doffed of his uniform, stood atop his stool and told stories of engagements past to the new bloods. To his side Cadence, a surprising sight in such a middle-class establishment, sipped from her mug of cider while avoiding the gawking stares of patrons unaccustomed to seeing an alicorn in the flesh. Not far from them, in a quieter part of the tavern, Silver sat with Abby and his family, holding his mug aloft.

“Da-... father,” Silver stammered. “Everything I am, I owe to you and mom. You supported me when you shouldn’t have, with what little you had, and I can’t for the life of me find the words to thank you. I will do whatever I can to repay you both.”

Honey Hearts reached over the table to her son, pushing his mug aside and pulling him into her embrace. “You’ve made us both so proud, son. We love you, and there’s nothing you need to repay.”

“Except maybe by taking Abby on a trip down the aisle,” Trusty said slyly, smirking beneath his mustache. Silver snapped back to his seat with a deep red blush. Abby, red in the face as well, giggled and pulled Silver’s hoof to her own.

“Don’t scare him like that, Trusty,” Abby chided, her giggle persisting. “He’s almost fainted once today, any more and I fear the ceremony will be in the infirmary. But once he’s out of the academy...” Abby’s gaze lingered on Silver’s hoof, tracing small circles upon it before staring into Silver’s eyes. Both Trusty and Honey nodded to each other knowingly and began scooting out of the booth.

“Well, I can see you two are mighty busy with each other,” Trusty held out his hoof for Honey to right herself with. “We’ll go see how Night Light and Ms. Velvet are holding up. Stay clean, you two.”

A deep blush burst forth from both of the swooning ponies as Honey and Trusty’s laughter faded into the braying of the tavern. They avoided each others eyes for a few moments, regaining their composure. Abby fiddled with her mane until Silver’s hoof came to finish the job for her.

Sitting next to each other, the hollering of ponies around them, Silver carried his gaze across Abby’s entire form. From her hooves, pristine and sleek, traveling up her gentle coat of a creamy yellow shared only by rolling fields of grain in the wind, and to her eyes, obscured only slightly by her deep ruby locks. Her eyes held Silver in place, the precious gems through which he could see the sunrise on the ocean, shimmered their sea green in the nearby lamplight. Silver felt her return his touch, and in turn shattered the remains of his resolve as he fell into her, locking their lips gently.

Several moments passed and the sound of the world drained away as they absorbed each other into themselves. Silver broke away, opening his eyes to find Abby’s soft lips still reaching for him before she, too, awoke from the perfect daydream. They pressed their foreheads together, Abby’s muzzle crinkling in her gentle giggle, and before long the countess gave herself again to the romantic spell urging her lips forward to his. Hoots and hollers were thrown their way, but went unheard.

“You know,” Abby cooed, “Auntie Celestia will be busy with the night court…”

A heat rose inside Silver as he swooped his head down onto Abby’s neck, planting a row of kisses up to her jawline. From the side of the booth, however, came a firm cough. “Am I interrupting?”

Silver looked up to the voice, finding Brigadier Shield Wall as its source, joined by an indigo pony. He moved to stand, knocking his rear leg on the table as he stumbled in place. Still, Silver gave a salute to his commanding officer, returned by an expression immune to the merrymaking going on around him. He extended a hoof to Abby, helping her out of the booth.

“Countess Glow,” he said with the faintest hint of a smile. “I apologize for my interruption but I must speak with the sergeant. Urgent matters regarding his disciplinary service.”

“Of course, sir,” Abby replied, looking over her shoulder with a sultry gaze. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

Both Silver and Shield Wall watched Abby as she walked out of the tavern, a stupid grin plastered across Silver’s face. The brigadier finally gained his composure and turned to his subordinate.

“Ooh boy,” Silver said. “I’ll be honest, sir, I still have no idea how a shlub like me made it with the textbook definition of ‘perfect’.”

“Neither do I…” Shield drew out his words. Flashes of bringing Silver’s head down on the lamp came into his mind, allowing the burning oil to melt away his smug expression, but he resisted. Instead he straightened his finely-pressed uniform and adopted an authoritative tone. “Sergeant, this is Chief Magistrate Midnight Gavel. He has elected to work with me in processing your administrative detention.”

“Oh, hello sir.” Silver held out a hoof, which was quickly returned by Gavel.

“Charmed. Old Wall here told me about your little foray at Galloping Gorge. Quite brave of you to confront the yak on their own ground.”

“Thank you, sir, but I admit I’m still shocked it even worked.”

“Oh yes, we all are.” Gavel said, shooting Shield Wall a smug grin. The brigadier’s upper lip stiffened.

“Sergeant, in two days time you will accompany myself and a crew on the HMS Compassion for a recon mission in the south Celestial Sea. Shore leave is non-negotiable, as this is to serve out your administrative detention. Upon the morning of our departure, two of the 4th Company will escort you to the station and accompany you to Horseshoe Bay, where our ship makes berth-” Silver scoffed at the phrase, earning a firm slap on the forehead from his commander. “And where you will assist myself and the 22nd Recon in surveying our oceanic borders. Failure to do so will result in your court marshaling and summary expulsion from the officer's academy. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Silver replied, rubbing the growing welt on his head.

“Marvelous,” said the brigadier and an unenthusiastic tone. “Do not get too comfortable, Spade, the seas are dangerous.”

Before Silver could respond the two ponies had already turned to leave, stopping only to congratulate Shining Armor and greet Princess Cadence. Once they had exited the tavern, Silver came over to the long table, occupied by soldiers and Shining’s little sister, Twilight.

“It’s quite simple, Twilight,” a guard, Spearhead, said pointing to a page in the thick tome Twilight held aloft with her magic. “The missing component of this potion is obviously a helping of nupus ecat.”

“But I don’t understand,” Twilight whined. “What’s nupus ecat?”

“Woooaaah-oooh woooaaah-oooh!” The row of guards all hollered out in practiced unison.

Twilight’s mouth hung open as the table laughed. Silver eventually made his way next to Shining, who was comforting his stammering sister. Once her mental faculties had recovered Shining turned to his friend, pushing a mug over. “I saw The Wall interrupted your fun-time with Abby. Everything good?”

“Yeah,” Silver said, taking a sip of the cider. “I’m going on a ship to help recon for my service.”

“Ooooh, how adventurous, they always said we’d see exotic places in the guard.”

“I’m sure the most exotic thing I’ll see is a scrub brush.”

Shining put a hoof on Silver’s shoulder, saying nothing as the two looked out around the tavern full of their brothers-in-arms. “Did you ever think we’d make it?” Shining asked.

“Absolutely.” Silver placed his hoof on Shining’s shoulder as well. The two enjoyed, for just a moment, the sound of song filling the drinking hall, the moon and stars gently twinkling outside.

It was the third time today Silver slapped himself for the accuracy of his apparently prophetic abilities, once again assaulting the deck of the HMS Compassion with the old brush in his hooves. The sun had just passed its midday perch at the top of the sky and brought a comforting warmth to combat the slight chill of the ocean breeze. Ponies trotted all along the deck, dressed in light and comfortable fatigues compared to Silver’s full plate and uniform, all thanks to his commanding offer who stood by the helm of the ship staring out to starboard. Looking up from the same panel of wood he’d been scrubbing for almost an hour, he watched as the brigadier spoke with who Silver presumed was the scout leader of the 22nd Recon.

This was their eighth day on voyage, and between the scrubbing and the blinding rays of the sun something finally caught his attention. He took a look around and counted the heads of everypony on deck. From the crewpony on his right to the brigadier himself, everypony on deck was most certainly a unicorn. Silver leaned over to the pony next to him, lithe and with an ice blue coat staring through a spyglass. “Hey, pal, aren’t there supposed to be a lot of pegasi in the recon corp?”

“Usually,” the unicorn said in an airy accent, clearly foreign, scanning the horizon. “But the ocean winds get pretty strong, throws of their flight. And besides, the gryphons rule the skies out here, anypony up in their clouds become bird feed.”

Silver took a look to the sky, blocking the sun with a hoof. The only socializing he’d ever done with gryphons were quick glances at the occasional dignitaries from Griffonstone, but stories of their prowess were well known.

“Griffonstone’s been a mess since poor Guto died way back.” The unicorn sheathed his spyglass and took a swig from a waterskin before passing it to Silver. “Something about a gold idol. A shame ponies aren’t welcome, I’m sure the dusting royal coffers are full of ancient articles. Forgive me, my name is Serenade.”

“Silver,” he replied before generously drinking from the waterskin, the heat of the sun winning out against the now dying breeze. “How is there still a military without a king?”

“Well, the gryphon old guard got together and made a militia, or so the intelligence suggests. They run patrols out here now and then, but a lot of it’s guff… actually I think one of their commanders is named Guff.”

Silver cracked a smile at Serenade’s charisma before a looming shadow crept over him. Looking back he came face to face with Brigadier Wall, who stared at him with a cold gaze. “Sergeant, I see you have become quite chummy with the crew here. You must be finished with your duties, then.”

“Uh, no, sir,” Silver said, rising to his hooves. “I mean, not yet sir. I was asking questions about Griffonst-”

“So,” Shield Wall interrupted, his grin curling at the corners, “you find the time to interfere with others performing their duties but fail to perform yours? Tell me, is ‘pestering the crew’ on your list of tasks for our journey?”

“N-no, sir, I-”

“They why, pray tell, are you electing to waste my time? Do I look like your nanny? Would you like me to keep track of all your mistakes?”

“No, sir, I think you’re doing a great job at it so far,” Silver quipped, earning a giggle from a pony on the port side, tending to the lifelines. Shield Walls eyes darted to the unicorn as his horn shimmered to life. Silver watched the pony go from a chuckle to a scream as the mint green unicorn was brought into view, pulled by the tips of his ears. Shield Wall’s face was twisted into a vile shape and he hovered the pony off his hooves.

“What have I told you about respect?!” Shield bellowed, beginning to pull the unicorn’s ears in opposite directions. “You will not jump, you will not crawl, you will not breath unless it is under my direct command! Am I clear!” The dangling unicorn could hardly call out a response, his whimpering the dominant sound in his voice. Shield Wall’s teeth barred and a trickle of blood could be seen trailing down the poor pony’s face.

“Let him go!”

Shield Wall turned to see Silver having taken a step forward, adopting a fighting stance. At this, not only was the brigadier facing him, but so, too, were the crew members present. The mint pony dropped to the wood floor, slowly working his way back to his post.

“You…” Shield Wall began. As he stepped closer, Serenade put himself between the brigadier and his newest target.

“Shield, control yourself. You are going to leave evidence.” Shield’s breathing returned to a steady pace. He placed a hoof on Serenade’s chest and pushed him aside, gently.

“Yes… yes, of course,” Shield kept his gaze on Silver, whose body was still tense in anticipation. “Consider yourself lucky, whelp. I will have to pursue the ‘less satisfying’ approach.”

Silver’s body became engulfed in the same gold aura as he felt his limbs lose contact with the ground. He swung and flailed with all his strength, but the field surrounding his person moved with him. He locked eyes with Shield Wall, who wore a sickening smile on his face, before colliding onto the deck with a crack.

With a flick of his horn Shield Wall sent Silver hurtling towards the mast, crashing into it before rag-dolling across the deck. Other objects lifted into the air: barrels, ropes, crates, all of which took their turn being fired at Silver, one by one. One of the ropes coiled in the air and tightened around Silver’s neck, drawing a deep chuckle from a satisfied Shield Wall.

“Do you like the spell? You should, it was very difficult to craft. An energy field surrounding your body, allowing certain forces such as heat and impact through while pesky things like blood stay inside. The diviners and investigators are such a pain to plan around, but one does what one can.”

Silver tried to choke out a response before the rope pulled tighter.

“Pardon, you said something?” Shield mocked. “Do you think I am good at this, too?” The armor adorning Silver’s body was forcefully ripped away and cast over the railing, down into the sea. A second rope floated past Silver’s vision before going taught with a snap.

“Or maybe this.”

The rope came down on Silver’s flesh, contorting his face into a strained gasp. As Shield said, the blood flowing from the fresh wound stayed within the bubble, splattering further along Silver’s coat as the second lash came down.

“How about this?”

A third.

“Or this?”

A fourth, with a crack punctuating a broken rib.

“Or this?!”

A fifth, sixth, and seventh assaulted Silver’s flesh in rapid succession, the rope coiled on his throat refusing to let him scream. Shield Wall came closer to his captured prey, horrific splendor decorating his face.

“If only you had played along like the clueless dirt horse you are those yaks would have trampled you and your entire company. The lieutenant would have kept Shining Armor safe and everything would have gone to plan. But, of course, you had to try and be the hero.”

“T-they…” Silver stuttered through the bind on his neck. “They’re g-going to k-...know. You can’t-”

“Cannot what?” Shield asked, sardonically. “I cannot manipulate the statutes regarding disciplinary action? I cannot bring you onto my ship, with my crew? I cannot threaten them with the same suffering if they talk?” Shield closed the distance between himself and Silver, lowering his voice to almost a whisper. “I cannot shout from the top of Mt. Canterlot you are finally gone, while I extradite your have-not family and steal your mare?”

Silver glared at Shield Wall, still unable to scream and feeling his lashes begin to throb. He lunged forward, almost close enough to grab the brigadier before being pulled back.

“Ha! I always forget the strength of earth ponies,” he looked out to the crew on deck. “It is their only defining trait.” A few of the unicorn crew laughed, reveling in the barbaric display. Serenade looked on with passive interest, hardly acknowledging Silver’s pleading stare.

“And despite your strength, you still cannot touch me.” Shield mockingly held his face close to Silver’s, who struggled and writhed under his commander’s control. “What a cosmic joke your kind is. The evolutionary runt. No wings, no magic, no place in this world except to bring me the food on my plate. Do you know what we call those?” Shield stepped away before turning one last time to Silver, the twisted smile replaced by a vacant expression.

“We call them slaves.”

Shield Wall unleashed a flurry of blows upon Silver’s tortured frame. The rope cute and tore into him, leaving a terrible cascade of blood with each strike until Silver went limp, suspended by the brigadier’s cruel spell. With a whisk of his horn, Shield Wall carried the now broken sergeant over the side railing. All Silver could do was raise his head to the brigadier.

“Normally, this is the part where Dr. Caballeron gives Daring Do a long winded speech, only for her to find some clever and impossibly complicated means of escape. But make no mistake, whelp…”

Silver felt himself being pushed farther out over the water and watched as his own blood began to flow out of the field.

“This is where your story ends.”

Silver reunited with gravity. The field suspending him dissipated entirely and brought him hurtling towards the waves. With a brutal splash Silver was submerged, flailing weakly to meet the surface as bitingly cold water spread into the open wounds along his stained coat, stiffening his already broken muscles as he desperately fought the waves for air. Intermittently his face would breach the water, and every time he saw the Compassion pull farther and farther away. Each stroke caused his muscles even greater pain, until his body could take no more.

Suspended in the cool dark of the ocean Silver began to drift into the abyss below. The cold muted his sense of touch, but he could feel something wrap around him. The strange grip tightened and pulled. The darkness clouding his vision overtook him Silver as he breached the surface.

Chapter 4: “Certainly, a young stallion like yourself has heard the tales.”

Abby bounced with each step as she, along with Trusty Steed and Honey Hearts, were escorted through Canterlot castle. Trusty read over the letter in his hoof. An ornate missive, lined with embossed trim and sporting the seal of the EUP General’s Board on the envelope. The clacking of their hooves on the marble floor was covered by the ambiguous chatting coming from farther down the hall. Honey held close to Abby, afraid to lose her composure in such a grand place. Their escorts halted and issued them forward.

“The brigadier will see you. Please, mind the crowd.”

The trio continued on and, sure enough, a sizable crowd had gathered outside of the brigadier’s office. Seated, standing, talking amongst themselves, each pony before them wore a uniform of some sort, their shoulder pads emblazoned with a yellow “XXII”. Those who took notice gave a bow to the countess and made way for her. Another, with a pair of bandaged ears, scrambled to his hooves and clumsily opened the door for her, an anxious grin on his face. Abby nodded and lead Honey and Trusty into the office.

Brigadier Wall’s office was sparsely decorated, save for a mahogany and glass cabinet to the side filled with mementos. Across from it was a towering bookcase, filled with tomes of every color and type. Abby recognized some of them from her time at Celestia’s magical academy, and many others she didn’t. A row of magical tomes became darker and darker as her glance followed it down, ending in a few ragged books emanating an unnatural darkness around them. At the front, before a large window, sat the brigadier himself at a sizable wooden desk. He was flanked by a seated ice blue unicorn and another, a supremely dressed indigo pony floating parchment before him.

“And you, of course,” the indigo pony began, “present this testimony as both unequivocally factual and of your own mind?”

“Of course, Chief Magistrate, it is as you say. I may be a mere grunt but I am still a stallion of honor.” The seated pony spoke in a loud, almost offended tone. Gavel made a few final marks upon the parchment, rolling it up and placing it into a saddlebag. Beside him, Shield Wall stood up before addressing the group.

“Ah, countess. Forgive me, we were just finishing up. I had not expected you so early.”

“It’s no bother, sir, one of the guards was kind enough to let us in. Hello, Mr. Gavel.”

“Greetings, countess,” Midnight Gavel said, giving a bow.

Abby returned the gesture, Trusty and Honey joining her side. The smile of Shield Wall’s face dimmed slightly at the sight of them. They were dressed in presentable garb, base colors and lacking any sort of real style. Shield took note of this and resisted the urge to gag.

“When we received your letter we were so excited,” Honey said. “Forgive us, my lord, but we were all so anxious to see Silver. Where is he?”

It took much of Shield Wall’s energy to even pay attention to the earth pony. To him, her words were as enthralling as yesterday’s refuse. He cleared his throat. “Yes… perhaps you should take a seat.”

Serenade sprung from his dark leather chair, holding a hoof out to Abby and offering her to sit. Trusty sacrificed the second chair to his wife and stood beside her.

“Don’t tell me he’s gone and got himself into trouble. I thought being a genuine officer would've put some sense in him.” Honey giggled at her husband’s words, though Shield Wall clung desperately to his self-control.

“N-no, nothing of the sort.” He took a seat behind his desk. “Though I am… sorry to bring an end to the good mood.”

“Why? What happened?” Abby questioned.

“The letter I sent was not to arrange a rendezvous with your son, rather because you are his next of kin. There was an accident at sea. Members of the Griffonstone militia force came onto the ship in the dead of night. There was a fight.”

Midnight cocked an eyebrow at Shield, but quickly put it away. Honey stirred in her seat, her breath quickening. Trusty squeezed her shoulder.

“Sergeant Spade was placed on night watch. The guard who let you in was with him, and became the enemy’s first target. From what he tells me, Silver tackled the gryphons off him. When I came to the deck he was…” Shield brought a hoof to his mouth, forcing the emotion. “He was too far gone. The gryphons ravaged his body and carried him into the night.”

Abby’s expression fell. Honey, beside her, was almost choking on her sobs, clinging to her husband’s hoof, who only stood with a grim face.

“No,” Abby whispered. “No, he can’t be. Not like that. There-” She felt warm tears stream down her face. “There must be a mistake.”

“I am sorry, countess,” Gavel began, his voice gentle. “That is what the group outside was for. We have been interviewing the crew all morning. Their testimonies all confirm this.”

“No!” Abby shouted as her makeup streaked down her cheeks. “No, they don’t! This is some vile lie! Silver was a sergeant, a soldier, he could look after himself! He couldn’t…”

Abby fell deeper into her seat, sniffling and holding her face in her hooves. Midnight stood unphased by the display while Shield’s mouth hung agape, unsure of how to console the mare. From the side, Serenade knelt before Abby and took her hooves in his own.

“Countess,” he spoke softly. “In my years serving this nation, I have seen many valiant warriors. Your lover was no exception. What I saw him do to those gryphons was beyond words. The power and the drive he fought with, all to rescue a stranger from the claws of death. It was like the tales my mamá would tell me as a foal.”

Abby’s sobs seemed to lighten up, and Serenade continued his consolation. “But, alas, this is not a fairy tale. Heroes do not always make it to the end of the story, but they live on in our most cherished memories of them. He will always be with you then.”

Midnight stood dumbstruck at Serenade’s heartfelt speech. Serenade helped Abby to her hooves, giving a bow before returning to the side of the room. Shield came out from behind his desk and put a hoof on her shoulder.

“It is a terrible loss, to be sure. Though I was hard on him, I could not help but admire him, as well. After all, he had won your favor.” Shield guided Abby to the door, motioning for Trusty and Honey to follow. Trusty all but carried his wife to the entrance, his eyes red from holding back the tears.

“Wait, there are still forms and the death certificate to sign. I cannot proc-”

“Oh for Celestia’s sake, Midnight, can you not see the boy’s parents are grieving?” Shield glared at Gavel in mock annoyance. “Give them some time to come to terms. We can always mail your damn paperwork to them.”

The three joined at the door. Trusty approached the brigadier and extended a hoof to him. “Thank you, sir, for helping us with this, and…” his lip trembled, but with a sharp breath it stiffened again. “Thank you for looking after him, up until the end.”

Shield slowly brought his hoof into contact with Trusty’s and pulled away. The three turned to exit the door and, after Shield had closed it behind them, a soft chuckle rose from Serenade’s lips.

“I do hate to admit it, Serenade,” Shield began in a hushed tone. “I am quite impressed with your little stunt.”

“Ponies are most easily manipulated when they are angry, and the countess is no exception.”

Shield Wall returned to his desk, floating a crystal decanter from one of the lower drawers. Three glasses followed suit and were filled with the amber liquid within the bottle. Shield passed them around to the two now seated ponies. “And like that, gentlecolts, our problems are solved.”

“Your problems, need I remind you your little lie indicted the gryphons with murder of a royal soldier. There will be an investigation.”

“One you will no doubt commandeer and stall into eternity.” Shield took a sip of the cool drink, savoring the tingle in his throat. “Now, Serenade, I would pique your interest, if you would indulge me.”

“Go on.” Serenade took a sip of his brandy and smirked.

“This is not the first time I have noticed your… unique talents. Your way with ponies makes you quite valuable. Is it true you talked your way out of a minotaur encampment?”

“Only partially,” Serenade said after another sip. “There was a bandit gang out near that hick town, Appleloosa, and I had the misfortune of ending up in their clutches. Minotaurs are so easy to read, though. It was but minutes before I had their leader believing his brother was stealing from him. Escape, at that point, was easy.”

Shield turned his head to Midnight, a smirk of his own growing on his face.

“Yes,” Midnight drew out. “I have witnesses who place you out that way. No word of the brother, but the story is sound. You’re not thinking of bringing him in, are you?”

“Why not? We need the beguiling sort to maintain control of our under-dealings. And besides, he is no stranger to our work, anymore.”

Midnight looked to Serenade, who sat playing with his glass in his magic. He studied him for a few moments, taking in every detail about smug unicorn, until a scroll floated up from his saddlebag and drifted over to Serenade, unfurling before him. Serenade took a moment away from his cup to read the document, his mouth slowly started to slacken, with a little drop of drool forming in the corner of his mouth, quickly lapped up before it could drift too far. Shield retained his smirk.

“You will need an alias, and to resign from the 22nd Recon. After six months, however, you’ll receive eight percent. More than enough to keep your loyalty, yes?”

“It’s more than ‘more’,” Serenade said, his eyes firmly fixed on the document. “How many bits are you two sitting on?”

Shield turned his smug gaze to Midnight, who, too, was allowing himself to enjoy showing off to the new talent.

“Not enough,” Midnight Gavel said coolly. “Would a pony of your talents be willing to help with that?”

Muffled noises came from all around. Dull tingling sensations surrounded his entire form, down to the tips of his hooves. His chest rose and fell in a tremble as his lungs put what little strength they had into feeding his body air. Pressure in his skull, a rumble in his gullet, and terrible pain all wracked his being. His twitching muscles then fell limp, and the terrible sense of drowning returned. With a start Silver came to, writhing under the phantasmal power of his own nightmares, choking and gasping as a hoof came to his chest and lowered him back down.

“Slowly, slowly,” a creaky voice whispered. “You are under fever, you need to rest.”

The voice did little to calm Silver, though, as he rocked to the side and collided onto the soft, dusty ground beneath him. He cried out at the return of his senses, bringing with them all the pain of his wounds. Silver raised his head from what he recognized as sand, and into his vision came the shape of a dark creature, pale eyes illuminated by the setting sun. Silver screamed again but the very act of doing so brought a sting through his body. The sand beneath him began to grow red.

“My boy, you must remain calm.” The creature before Silver came to his side and groaned as he pulled the ailing earth pony from the beach. “Your wounds will reopen if you continue.”

Silver lacked the strength to resist, his muscles burning. He sat back down onto the makeshift bed, which Silver now realized was a small pallet of wood and debris. He turned again to the creature and, his vision returning, identified his caretaker. “You…” Silver said, raspily. “You’re a… a changel-” Another shot of pain came roaring through Silver’s side. He fell back onto the bedding.

“Yes, my boy, perhaps the last thing you would think to see out here.” The changeling placed his chitin covered hoof to Silver’s throat, causing him to recoil slightly. “Well, your pulse is good, though you may need another day or two before you can be moved... anymore than you have.”

As the changeling took to cleaning Silver’s wounds, the ailing pony examined his savior. He was certainly of the hivefolk, but something was off. The chitin plating changelings are so famous for was cracked and chipped along its edges, leading up to an impressive gash along his side. Along his chest Silver noticed several splotches of color, glossy green and blue streaks jutted out from where the changeling’s heart would be, into an intricate, purposeful spiral petering off around his upper neck.

“Who are you?” Silver managed to say.

“Darrox.” The changeling continued his treatment. From a primitive looking sack he pulled a worn cloth and began wrapping Silver’s barrel in it.

“How did I get here?”

“Well, I carried you,” Darrox chuckled. “You were in a bad sort when I found you, and I am amazed you woke up as soon as you did. I figured two days was-”

“Two days?!” Silver jerked a leg trying to sit up, but was once again met with a sting from his wounds. Darrox huffed and gave a light slap on the earth pony’s head.

“Would you cease? You will heal in the shape of a pretzel if you keep up your incessant wriggling.” His patient took a ragged breath, summoning some semblance of self-control before lying back. There was a silence, broken intermittently by the waves along the shore. “Might I ask what happened out there?”

Silver shuddered at Darrox’s question. The horrific assault on his body, the laughing of the crew, and the binding chill of the ocean as it squeezed the life from him all invaded his memory. He took another breath. “I don’t know,” Silver spoke somberly. “He was always hard on us, but I never thought… I didn’t…”

“Who?” Darrox tied off the bandage around Silver’s chest.

“The brigadier, he…” Silver’s words shook, his hooves trembling. “Oh, Celestia, I couldn’t even fight back.”

“Were you a sailor?” Darrox took hold of Silver’s hoof to steady him.

“A soldier.”

“Was there a mutiny? You look as if the entire crew had a go at you.”

“No,” Silver shook his head. “It was him. Just him. He held me down and… I just don’t know why!”

Silver’s words slowly turned to hysterics as Darrox tried to make sense of it all. From his sack he pulled another item, a small bottle, and held it to Silver’s lips. He motioned Silver to drink and drained the bottle into his mouth. Silver’s heaving and mumbling began to slow.

“Wh-what was that, some sort of potion?”

“Rum,” Darrox chuckled. “The bedmate of sailor and noble, alike. Now, continue with your story.”

The warmth spread through Silver’s throat, reaching down into his gut and moving outward. His limbs relaxed and his pain eased. For the first time he felt a smile, albeit a small one, spread across his lips. “Back in Canterlot,” Silver began, “We had all returned from a battle north of the Galloping Gorge. Yaks had moved in and attacked the border towns. I went against orders to solve it peacefully. The lieutenant was a dunce.”

Darrox chuckled at this and continued listening.

“When I gave my report to the General’s Board they were… pleased, I think. I was given disciplinary service but was still allowed to go to the officers academy with Shining. He’s a friend. Coolest guy you’ve ever met. My CO came to me during the return party, said I’d meet him at Horseshoe Bay for service on a ship. Things were fine for a few days but… how could anypony be so cruel?”

“You would be surprised.” Darrox wore a stoic expression, his gaze narrowed before him.

“I’m sorry,” Silver said. “You’ve, uh, you’ve probably been on the receiving end of a lot of that, huh? Being a… well…”

“I suppose,” Darrox said. “But much of my abuse came from my own foolhardy nature. It’s to be expected when one puts his muzzle into other ponies’ business.”

“What do you mean?” Silver cocked an eyebrow at Darrox’s words, who returned with a small smile.

“Well, certainly, a young stallion like yourself has heard the tales. Stories spread along the Bridle Shores of a pony, cloaked in shadow, judging Equestria’s guilty. His battle cry… um… oh, how did that blasted thing go?”

“Though you escape from judgement’s view,” Silver began.“The Ghost now sets his haunt upon you!”

“That’s the one!” Darrox let out a gentle laugh that joined Silver’s. Together, the two shared in their brief moment of revelry before their laughter was drowned out by the waves.

“You’re really him?”

“The very same,” Darrox said. “Being a changeling helped tremendously in my work.”

“Did you ever actually say that line?” Silver asked.

“Oh, sweet Day, no. Far too pulpy for my taste. No, my boy, I am afraid reality is far less appealing than fiction.”

Silver, who had managed to finally sit up, stared at Darrox in absolute wonderment. Before him sat a hero, a living legend, who’s very tale spread across Equestria for years after his disappearance. Bouncing around in his head was a list of questions he wanted answers to, but he resisted the urge, instead settling on the one that mattered.

“How did you end up here?” Silver finally asked.

“Well, that is a story. Needless to say, I had chosen to spend my life defending Equestria from all who threatened it. Being a changeling was… difficult for some to understand. In the hive you are taught to fight and conquer. Survival of the fittest, and all that tripe. The queen placed me on a scouting mission of a nearby pony village and what I saw changed me forever.”

“What was it?” Silver asked with rapt attention.

“Love, my boy, real love. Ponies helping each other, dancing together, even stopping to hold the door open. It was... beautiful, needless to say. That’s when this started,” Darrox pointed to the swirl of color along his chitin. “I was exiled, but I did not care. There was a whole new world outside for me to explore, and as I did I found that same love everywhere I went. There were times I was tempted to give in to my urges to feed, for sure, but how could I? One day I made it to Canterlot, where I found a mare and her foal walking the streets at night. They had been cut off by a brutish lot. I was unsure of their intentions, but we changelings can sense emotion, and all I felt was malice.

“I did what I knew a loving pony of Equestria would do: I stood in their way. Oh, the looks on their faces, to see a changeling so far from the hive. When they tried to remove me I… well, I refused their offer. I still remember the look on the foal’s face. Not one of fear, as I usually received, but one of amazement. It was a pure love, and from then on I knew to feed on love was wrong, it should only be protected. My journeys led me all across Equestria, earning several allies and enemies. But, later into my career, I met the worst of them all. One who seemed completely devoid of all love. The one who I followed out here.”

“Who was he?”

“A captain, officially, but nothing more than a vile monster of a pony. Cold and vicious. He had brought a mountain of gold to sea in an attempt to bribe the dragons into attacking Equestria, to start a proxy war where he could achieve power. He was villainy incarnate.”

“Huh,” Silver muttered. “That sounds like someone I know.”

This perked Darrox’s ears upright. He leaned forward to Silver. “Who?”

“The pony who dropped me here, who did… this,” he motioned over his body. “He talked about how the yak invasion was a ruse. Something he manufactured. At first I thought he was just trying to rile me up, but-”

“What is his name?” Darrox’s tone was firm, now. “Did he have a blonde mane, with eyes of molten gold?”

“The eyes, definitely. His name is Shield Wall, he’s a brigadier with the EUP.”

Darrox froze in place. His forelegs fell limply to his sides as his eyes wandered, aimlessly. Silver attempted to catch his attention, but to no avail. The changeling muttered loudly.

“The storm… the boats. He couldn’t have… he just… eight years, two months, fourteen days…”

“Darrox? Are you okay?”

Darrox came to his senses. The chitin along his body tensed, then softened as he fell back onto his haunches. “I’m sorry, my boy, but when you… my one comfort on this island was the thought I had won. That his evil may have finally been swallowed by the storm. But seeing you means he still roams free. It means that I… I failed.”

Silver looked out to the shore, the tide crashing upon the beach. From the pit of his stomach he felt tendrils of fear spread out. The knot grew, pushing into the memories of his family, of Shining and of Abby. All that was left behind, taken by a pony he once served. He looked to Darrox, and Silver could almost feel how broken he was. Silver came down from the bedding.

“How do we get off this island.”

“We don’t, my boy. I have been here for almost a decade.”

“Well, have you tried to escape?”

Darrox choked on his response and said nothing.

“If you haven’t even tried then here’s your chance. I can’t spend the rest of my life here.”

“My boy, there are hundreds of miles of ocean between us and Equestria.”

“Alright, fine, we’ll cross it. You’re the Ghost, you’re a hero. You’ve got to have at least one idea.”

“I was the Ghost, a lifetime ago. My stake in this fight is long since over.”

“Well mine isn’t!” Silver shouted over the crashing of the waves. “I won’t sit in the sand while everypony I love thinks I’m dead.”

“Even if you do return, Shield Wall will find you. You cannot just walk into Canterlot and declare your resurrection. You would not even make it through the gate.”

“I don’t care! I’m not staying here and I’m not going to let some withering old changeling, you of all ponies, tell me to let Shield Wall get away with what he’s done to me. Now you can help me get us off this speck of dirt, or you-”

The stress of his shouting brought Silver to his knees. Darrox moved to assist him but was brushed aside, left in the sand as Silver stumbled away from the shoreline.

As Silver began to limp away, something stirred in Darrox. Like a flame, long since reduced to an ember, stoked to fledgling new life by the young soldier’s words. Farther up the beach, nearing the wooded area of the mainland, Silver continued his strenuous climb up the sand. With a grunt he fell back, threatening to collide with the dune beneath him, until a black tendril coiled around his midsection.

Silver’s eyes followed the black shape, which had twisted around a tree and traced back behind him to Darrox. The changeling was now behind him, having closed the distance Silver put between them with a phantasmal speed. The tendril, in fact a sleek stretch of fabric, released Silver before retreating to Darrox’s grasp and into his rucksack. Silver’s mouth hung open.

“If you are going to get us off this island you will still need to heal,” Darrox propped Silver over his shoulder. “And if you are going to take your revenge on Shield Wall, you will need more than a blazing heart and harsh words.”

Darrox did not speak again for the duration of their walk into the woods, but the expression he gave filled Silver with some measure of hope. The two neared a hulking wreck as the sun set over the horizon, giving a green flash before dipping down entirely.

Chapter 5: “My enemy was a notion, not a nation”

Silver's unwilling home of many months was a sizable mass of sand and lush vegetation. Several laps he took along the shoreline revealed the island's crescent shape. Inwards, towards the apex, sat the only pony-made structure on the whole of the island. A ship, its bow snapped and the stern fully run aground. Drapery of sails turned the sundered vessel into the barest hint of a shelter. Out on the sand stood Silver. His fever had broken after the fourth day and on the seventh he regained the power to walk unassisted, but not without evidence of his encounter: scars, raw and ugly. Most had sealed and hid beneath his ragged white fur, while others barely healed at all, presenting themselves in the sunlight.

A ragged piece of sail sat across Silver's eyes while several objects floated around him in a circle, all caught in a sickening green aura a small distance away from Darrox, mastering the objects. One flew out and collided with Silver.

“Ow!’ Silver cried out, flailing a hoof in the general direction of the object.

“You must concentrate,” Darrox called out in a creaky voice. “Hear the gush of wind as it moves, feel its energy hurtling towards you. Again.”

Silver steadied himself, digging his hooves into the sand. He strained his ears and listened for the signals his tutor described, and for a moment he could almost feel the vortex of air caused by the swirling debris. His fur stood on end. A forehoof jerked out to cover his left, only to feel another object impact on his head.

“Watch it!” Another object, the wheel of a cannon, crashed against Silver’s flank, earning a loud yelp. He tore the blindfold from his face and chucked it against the sand. “How is dodging trash going to help me get home? How is any of this supposed to help me?”

“It is to teach timing and awareness of your surroundings.”

“And I’m always going to be fighting with a blindfold, huh?” Silver chided.

Darrox stood and walked gingerly to Silver, his ginger grin a distraction from the light kick of his hoof to the beach, forcing a clump of sand to fly upwards into Silver’s face. He recoiled at the assault while Darrox, with the same leg, brought it between Silver’s and twisted, the wedge forcing the pony's legs apart as he fell onto the beach, giving a groan upon impact.

“It is that simple, Silver,” Darrox stated. “An opponent, any opponent, can have their senses taken advantage of, the easiest being sight. We rely on it far too much, and you may find yourself in situations where it is more a hindrance than a boon.”

Silver spat the remaining sand from his mouth and stood. As soon as he placed his hoof to the ground he kicked his own clump of sand at Darrox. The changeling nimbly evaded and, just as before, kicked out Silver’s other forehoof, returning him to the beach once more, face-first. Unseen by Silver, Darrox gave a soft smile and pulled his pupil from the sand with his magic.

“You enjoy that, don’t you?” Silver directed to his teacher.

“Only a small bit, my boy. Come.”

The two retreated to a small campsite, close to the wrecked stern. A fire crackled in the center of the circle. All around were scavenged books, documents, and supplies from the crash. Darrox sat in the sand and lifted a piece of bark from a pile beside him, biting into it and chewing. It had come as a shock to Silver when he learned changelings, being master imitators, were also capable of adopting the diets of those they impersonated, no matter how bizarre. “So, tell it to me again,” Darrox said.

Silver huffed at his tutor’s instruction. He swallowed his fruit and began. “I was a sergeant, I served Shield Wall, and for the umpteenth time I don’t know why he dumped me into the ocean.”

“Nonsense, Silver,” Darrox placed his bark down and moved to a bit of crab. “There is a reason for every action, even for one as deranged as Shield Wall. Think. What would he have to gain?”

“I don’t know,” Silver huffed. “I don’t have a lot of money, and I don’t know anything special that he could use.”

“Then what is left?”

“I… I guess I could be a threat, but I think it’s pretty clear that’s not the case.” Silver ran a hoof around his scarred body.

“Perhaps.” Darrox pursed his lips and stared into the crashing waves. “Or perhaps there is something about you he simply cannot stand.”

“Well, he did call me a ‘dirt horse’. It’s, uh, it’s a bad name for earth ponies.”

“Yes, I’m aware. Though how many earth ponies must he be surrounded by on a given day? In the battalion he commands? No, there must be something about you he loathes.”

“Well… during the torture he said something about keeping Shining protected. Maybe he likes Shining more than me?”

“Hmm,” Darrox’s horn glowed it’s green hue, bringing more crab to his mouth. “Describe him to me.”

“Who, Shining? Well, he’s a unicorn. White fur and a blue two-toned mane. We’re about the same height, except he’s got some wicked fetlocks I’ve been saying he needs to get trimmed. We were the same rank, heck we were best friends all through guard academy.”

“What of his family?” The question made Silver smile.

“His folks are great. Twilight Velvet, that’s his mom, is like the ‘crazy cool mom’ everypony wishes they had. His dad’s alright, real big into bingo. Oh, and he’s got a sister, also named Twilight. It gets a little confusing sometimes. She’s a student of Celestia’s at her school of magic.”

“Am I to believe they are all unicorns?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess they are,” Silver paused and looked to Darrox. “Wait. You don’t think… could Shield Wall have done this to keep me from going to the academy, because I’m not a unicorn?”

“No,” Darrox said flatly. “You said you were both going, regardless. It would’ve been much more convenient to simply sabotage your reputation, or your grades. This is extreme. Though, I suppose Shield Wall is known to be extreme at times. You are certain you know nothing? Anything which could threaten him or any plans he may have?”

“No, nothing. I barely ever saw him outside of debriefings.”

“But you had thwarted a yak raid he, himself, orchestrated. What was his reaction?”

“Ooh, he was pissed. Warmaster Frontline had allowed me to go to the academy because I stopped it, but Shield Wall was yelling about how I ‘disregarded protocol’ and should be punished.”

“Intriguing.” Darrox lifted a canteen from beside him and took a sip of the filtered water. He passed it to Silver, who obliged. “Can you think of any other comparable instance?”

“Uh… not really? Equestria’s been pretty quiet, minus the whole ‘possible Nightmare Moon’ thing. Do you think that has anything to do with it?”

“I have seen the signs, but no. It was, in fact, Shield Wall’s mission to unite ponies together and prepare for Nightmare Moon, in his own twisted way. He seemed more concerned with retaining power than saving ponies. What else could there be?”

Silver sat in silence. It was painful to think back on it, like he could feel the lashes all over again. The sickening sound of the rope tearing through him, those golden eyes flickering in the sunlight, and the fear of immobility. It was horrible, but Silver did it, regardless. “He did mention Abby.”

“Who?”

“Abundant Glow. Countess Abundant Glow. She’s a royal and, uh…” A blush crossed Silver’s face. “We’ve been dating for a few years now.”

“Oh, now that is fascinating.” Darrox turned to Silver, a hoof stroking his chin. “Describe her to me.”

“O-Oh, well, she’s definitely the most beautiful mare I’ve ever met. She’s got these big, green eyes, and she’s always kind to everypony she meets.” Silver’s smile grew, twisting at the corners. “She’s got this little pout, okay? It comes out when she gets frustrated or when somepony is rude. It’s the most adorable thing in the world, Darrox, I’m telling you. Oh! She’s really good at magic, too. Like, one time, she was able to make an illusory night sky appear over us after we… well, when we were in bed. It was…”

Silver noticed a change in Darrox. A few tears had formed in his eyes while the swirling colors in his chitin twinkled slightly, growing just a bit.

“Are you okay?” Silver asked puzzled.

“Yes. Yes, my boy, forgive me. It has been so long since I felt any kind of love, and I had not even tried to. You must truly love her.”

Silver nodded, a tear forming in his own eye, one he quickly wiped away with a hoof and sniffled. “So, uh, do you think Shield has it in for her, too?”

“Oh, it’s possible. From they way you describe her you two are most certainly in love. And if she is a unicorn, then perhaps Shield Wall views it as an offense. A lowly earth pony soldier winning the heart of the royal unicorn noble.”

“But that can’t be enough to try and kill me over, right? Why would he care?”

“Ah, perhaps that is precisely the reason: he does care.”

“What?” Silver said in an incredulous tone. “You think he’s got the hots for Abby?”

“Well, I have never known Shield Wall to have ‘the hots’ for anypony, but there is something to be said about wanting the things we cannot have. Shield Wall is a spiteful stallion. In our time as enemies his barbarism had been brought forth for reasons entirely alien to me. I once witnessed him beat a tailor to death with a bolt of cloth for providing him with a blazer he deigned ‘too foreign’.”

“What did you do?” Silver’s face was twisted in shock.

“It pains me to say, but the time he spent beating the poor stallion gave me the time to escape my binds. We were both captives of Shield Wall. His villainous entourage was hiding out in a warehouse in Manehatten, trying to rob the Museum of Equestrian History of a valuable artifact Shield Wall believed to house a wendigo.”

“Wait, a wendigo? Shield Wall almost got his hooves on a wendigo?”

“Yes, ‘almost’ being the operative word. By the Sun, knowing Shield Wall, I dare say he might have been able to control it.”

Silver took another swig of the canteen, processing his new revelation, basking in the strange wash of relief Darrox's assessment of his tormentor gave. Silver looked to Darrox again. “What if Shield Wall thinks I know something? I did stop the attack, after all. He wanted it to be a bloodbath and start a war. Maybe he was afraid of something getting out.”

“Possible, yet irrelevant, my boy. Shield Wall is nothing if not cunning. He sent assassins against Princess Celestia and, to this day, remains unpunished for his many crimes. No, I think the answer lies in who he is.”

“You lost me.”

“Entertain the idea Shield Wall is a criminal mastermind. Then, give him an illusory justification for his actions, and you have a stallion who both believes his own lies as truth and has the ability to defend it. Such a pony is the definition of ‘dangerous’ and should never be underestimated. Now, let us present him with the example of everything he despises: you.

"You are an earth pony. Young, healthy, respected by your peers, and loved by a beautiful unicorn noble. You have been given the same honor as a unicorn, Shining in this instance, and even went so far as to foil one of Shield Wall’s plans for war, albeit unknowingly. Put it all together and you have quite the annoyance.”

“So what, I’m just this walking, talking pet peeve?”

“Exactly. We know Shield Wall to be titanically intolerant, and you, my boy, seem quite effective in small doses. So, following what we know of his character, he is compelled to remove you from the equation entirely.”

Silver processed this for a moment. The very notion a pony could be so heartless would have shocked him, had the evidence not been laid out upon his flesh. Darrox floated the canteen back to himself and drank from it.

“Wait… wait hold on. There’s a problem.” Silver leaned forward, gazing into the fire before him. “Somepony’s going to find out. There has to be an investigation. Everypony on the ship saw.”

“And you think they will talk?”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

“Fear, my boy, it is the deranged morality that guides Shield Wall’s life. Fear to keep them in line, fear to keep them honest.”

“No, somepony, at least one person has to say something. It was evil, what Shield did to me.”

“You have such faith in others, but still…” Darrox rubbed his chin at the thought. “It does beg the question: how would Shield Wall go about stifling an investigation into the death of a military officer? His power only extends to those within his purview.”

“He couldn’t,” Silver shot up, becoming giddy at the thought. “He’s EUP, not the Investigations Bureau, it’s two totally different departments.”

“Could Shield Wall have allies?” Darrox mused. “It is possible he did not act alone.”

“What are you talking about? How could anypony else want anything to do with that psycho's plans?”

“Do not jump to conclusions, Silver. You must focus. Analyze all you know, not what you want to be true. Now, I ask again, could he have allies?”

Silver’s heart sank as he traveled, again, through his memory. The image of an indigo pony, younger than Shield and dressed in posh attire, came into mind.

“Yeah…” he sighed. “Yeah, there’s somepony. His name’s Midnight Gavel, he’s Chief Magistrate. He visited with Shield Wall the night he gave me my service.”

“Fascinating, then my speculations were correct. He had to have support within the legal offices to continue his dealings. This Gavel character must be said support. So long as he is in league with Shield Wall, they can get away with nearly any crime imaginable.”

“Which means he can cover up my disappearance.” Silver sank back to his haunches, his head hanging lower than before.

“Not exactly,” Darrox piped up. “It is the Princess who can declare an overriding verdict on any case. If memory serves, Equestrian Criminal Code allows for exceptions to long-standing cold case crimes if proper witness testimony is provided or in the case of external contamination, or for our purposes, conspiracy.”

“I’ve got a guy who can prove both,” Silver brought his head back to eye level. “There was a unicorn on the ship. His name was Serenade, he saw the whole thing.”

“Then we have both our enemy and our objective.”

“Get back to Equestria, find Serenade, get him to sing, and bring Shield Wall’s fantasy down around him.” Silver stood and made his way to the stern. “I can’t wait to wring the life out of him.”

Silver found his hooves caught in green magic, the shadow of his changeling master approaching from behind.A pull of the spell turned the earth pony around to face Darrox’s cold expression. “Excuse you?” The magic dissipated, allowing Silver to speak.

“What do you mean ‘excuse you’? When I find Shield Wall I’m going to kill him, what’s the problem?”

“That, the killing part. Why would you stoop to his level?”

“Who cares about levels, Darrox. Look at me! He beat me, whipped me, berated me and threatened the ones I love. For all I know he’s doing terrible things to them right now and I can’t do anything about it. What would you do?”

“What I have always done: stop him.”

“And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

“No, what you will do is allow violence to beget violence.”

“What does that even mean?!”

“It means you are playing his game. You are responding to his barbarism with the same evil which gave you those scars.”

“I’m a soldier, Darrox, killing is part of the job description.”

“And do you ever feel comfort for it? Do you ever feel relief? To kill another only perpetuates a cycle of violence, the same cycle that ripped you away from your family and Abby.”

Muscles tensed beneath Silver's scarred skin. “Don’t talk about her, Darrox, I mean it.”

“Why? Do you feel offended because you are afraid of losing her, or are you afraid to think of her while to sate your lust for vengeance with blood.”

Silver threw a hoof at Darrox, wildly. He slid to the side, catching the errant blow and twisting Silver’s foreleg. With another step and a buck of his hips, Darrox brought Silver over his back and onto the sand, where he writhed under his tutor’s power. From nowhere, Darrox produced a dagger and placed it to Silver’s throat.

“Do not forget who I am, Silver,” Darrox spoke with all the warmth of the churning ocean beyond. “I spent decades defending Equestria from not just villains, but from the vile emotion you are feeling right now. My enemy was a notion, not a nation, and I will not allow you to leave this island if death is all you have in your heart.”

Silver could feel the blood rushing through his body, forcing his ears to throb. He relaxed his muscles and watched as Darrox removed the blade from his throat. Darrox held out a hoof and brought Silver to stand.

“You must not kill. To kill is the method of the enemy. By killing Shield Wall you prove nothing, have no argument, save for violence begetting violence. It is not only the battle you must win, but the discourse. That is where the true strength of your mission lies.”

“Then what do I do?”

“You listen, follow my instructions. I can teach you how to fight back. How to move, how to think, how to take your revenge with honor. This island is your forge, and here you will be remade, if you let it.”

Silver took in Darrox’s words, his anger draining from him. He stood to his full height and spoke. “I’m ready.”

“Good,” Darrox smiled. “You give me your soul, Silver Spade, and I will turn you into a force of nature.”

Chapter 6: "Strike first."

-- 4 years later: The Changeling Invasion of Canterlot --

Canterlot’s common chorus of bustling streets had evaporated. Towering buildings and posh locales stood now as damaged homes and scorched craters where guards lined the streets, their golden armor glistening in the sun, helping to direct the efforts of hundreds of ponies working together to clear the devastation.

The royal palace was not immune. It’s pristine stain-glass windows cracked and walls scorched. Ponies in hardhats and construction apparel trotted in groups to and from the courtyard, hauling supplies and tools from emergency depots throughout the city, a contingency in case such an event took place. Even a volunteer’s corp, groups of battered yet eager citizens, formed to assist in reconstruction. Bakers, accountants, guards, even some nobility came together to do what little they could to bring Canterlot back to it’s once-shining glory. For many, it was hard to believe such pain came out of happiness.

Queen Chrysalis, vile mistress of the changeling horde, supplanted herself as Princess Mi Amore Cadenza on the night before her wedding to Captain Shining Armor, using her masterful trickery to launch a surprise attack on the city, and though victory seemed within reach the good ponies of Canterlot overcame her. The city lamented, save for one pony.

In his office, high in the palace’s west wing, was the new Vice General Shield Wall. He was unadorned, standing precariously upon his forehooves alone. He breathed slowly through his nostrils, tensing his core to maintain balance. He had been like this for almost fifteen minutes and not even the startling sound of knocking broke his concentration.

“Shield Wall, open the door.”

The vice general descended and wiped the sweat from his brow, turning to the silver platter by his desk, hosting a number of crystal bottles, spritzing each one on himself to freshen up. A dark grey jacket floated to him, adorned with service ribbons and officer bars, and slipped around himself. The same power enveloped the door knob for Midnight Gavel to enter. “Finally,” Gavel huffed. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

Midnight took in the sight of Shield Wall’s new office. Unlike the spartan charm of his previous one, this office was exquisitely designed, with bookshelves and paneling made of a rich dark wood. Several military artifacts and memorabilia hung on the walls, most of them Shield’s own possessions. The same large desk, however, sat in the center of the room where Shield Wall stood.

“No, Gavel, not at all. What have you to report?”

“The meeting is in order, they are all waiting for you in the conference room. I must say, though, I’m shocked to see so many in attendance this time.”

“This attack is exactly what we needed, old friend,” Shield took a sip from the bourbon on his desk. “They are all afraid, and that is what will bring them together.”

“Only we could see the good in such devastation,” Gavel chuckled, pulling a sheaf of parchment from his bag.

“Indeed. The true problem, is it not?” Shield smiled softly. “What do you have there?”

“Reports from Coltistrano, delivered by Plunder’s band of miscreants. Recruitment, trades, and miscellaneous dealings from east of the Foal Mountains.” The packet floated from Midnight Gavel to Shield Wall, who flipped through it with a leisurely smile, a shift in Shield Wall’s mood over Gavel was keen to notice. In the beginning there was a sense of weightlessness that came off of his friend, and for many months after his visits for tea and therapy became less and less. Now, to see Shield Wall smile was an almost regular occasion. Gavel’s eyes, though, shifted to Shield Wall’s desk, noticing a stack of newspapers and magazines, wrinkled with age.

“And what of Shining Armor? Is the lucky couple joining us?”

“No,” Gavel said quickly, snapping his vision back to his friend. “The two left on honeymoon this morning at the behest of Princess Celestia and her student, Twilight Sparkle.”

“Ah, a pity.” Shield placed the sheaf onto his desk and took another sip.

“Though perhaps it’s for the best. To bring Shining Armor into the fold is, while potentially profitable, very dangerous. Do not forget who he now shares his bed with.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” Shield Wall waved a dismissive hoof as he placed the glass down. His eyes wandered to the stack of clippings on his desk, where they remained. Gavel took a few steps forward and spotted the headlines. Stories printed about The Ghost.

“A trip down memory lane, old friend?”

“Of a sort,” the clippings shifted around in Shield’s magic. “To think my greatest enemy would fail to see the fruits of all our work.”

“You say that like you miss him.”

“In a sense,” Shield said, almost wistfully. “We should away. I would hate to keep the nobility any longer.”

Shield said nothing more as the two exited the office and made their way down the less-battered hallways of the west tower. Each flight of stairs was flanked, intermittently, by a window that looked over the city. The two unicorns saw the fires had finally been put out along the commerce district. Hooves clacked against the marble stairs as they landed upon the ground floor. After a right turn, they passed a wall of silhouettes. Shield locked his eye upon one depicting an earth pony, one of the newest additions. “May I confide something in you, Midnight?”

“Of course.” Gavel turned his gaze to Shield Wall.

“I’m bored.” Shield's admission didn’t hit Midnight at first, but soon he began to process his friends words as memories of the last four years flooded his mind: Nightmare Moon’s return, the Lord of Chaos breaking free from imprisonment, a changeling invasion. Gavel struggled to speak, succeeding only in flapping his gums a bit before finding his words.

“How? Equestria has suffered a crisis almost annually? The amount of legal work, alone, is enough to keep anypony at least stimulated.”

“Yes, but it lacks excitement.”

“And what sort of ‘excitement’ are you looking for?”

Shield Wall didn’t respond as they approached the conference room. No guards stood outside to greet them, a condition of all meetings involving their private dealings. His golden aura illuminated the door as it swung open, a wave of ambient chatter greeting Shield Wall’s ears. As the door closed Shield and Midnight’s horns glowed in unison, sending an almost transparent bubble of magic out across the room to silence their conversations to the outside. The table was long, seated by ponies dressed in posh clothing on one side, adorned with glittering jewelry or smart accessories, while others were dressed in the common attire of military. Their chattering dimmed when Shield made his way around to the head of the table, with Gavel taking the unoccupied across from Serenade. With one final scan of the room, Shield locked onto a pair of sea green eyes, watching him from behind ruby locks.

“Ladies, gentlecolts, thank you for coming. I trust Mr. Gavel has made the purpose of our meeting today known to all.” Nodding and grunts of agreement rounded the table. “Excellent, then we can cut to the chase. Equestria is no longer safe, and dare I say, has never been as safe as we ignorantly believed it to be. This recent attack, on our very doorstep, proves as such. Were it not for the convenience of Princess Cadence’s magic our capital would currently be serving as a hive for these changeling attackers. I tell you now, esteemed guests, we cannot rely on convenience to defend this nation.”

“Here, here!” A few ponies shouted from around the table.

“Therefore, we have called this meeting to ensure your support in devising a plan to not only bolster Equestria’s defenses, but to also prepare for future cataclysms. Many of you have supported myself and Mr. Gavel for years, and we humbly thank you, but now is the moment when we must make lasting change. Before we continue, I would like to ensure we are all still in agreeance.”

A number of ponies simply nodded their heads while others looked around, seeking an explanation. One of the ponies, a dapper unicorn wearing a monocle, stood. “What, exactly, are we agreeing to? Forgive me, but this is my first time at such a function.”

“Of course, Mr. Pants.” Shield Wall’s horn came to life, projecting a golden map of Equestria before the crowd. “What you see before you is a rendition of Equestria. For the sake of understanding, take a look around the border. What do you see?”

“Well,” Fancy Pants began. “There are the oceanic borders, the recently discovered Crystal Empire to the north, I see the Badlands and Yakyakistan on flanking ends.”

“Excellent. It is refreshing to find a pony knowledgeable in his world. Now, look deeper south.” The twinkling image expanded, revealing an entire landmass south of the Badlands, stretching into a massive desert. At the bottom, the map showed a darker land clouded in thunderstorms. “Perhaps you could tell us what that is?”

Fancy Pants looked perplexed, touching a hoof to his chin in concentration.

“As I thought. Do not feel bad, Mr. Pants, very few of us have ventured south of the Forbidden Jungle, and even fewer have survived. I, however, have seen the lawless lands beyond our borders. To our north, just on the doorstep of our Crystal Pony brethren, is the home of savage yaks who, already, have attacked Equestria. The changelings have left evidence of their true nature scattered all across the city. And worst of all…”

The map on the table shifted to the east, showing the expanse of the Celestial Sea and the neighboring continent. “Griffonstone.”

There was murmuring all around. The more stern of the guests spat at the mere mention of its name, while several others whispered amongst themselves.

“I don’t understand,” said Fancy Pants, cleaning his monocle. “The gryphons have been our allies for many years now. We even invite their dignitaries to Canterlot every year.”

“And we are fools to do so.” Shield Wall’s tone shifted to a firm one. “Officially, Griffonstone is a tenuous ally to Equestria and has been for more than three decades, but their actions speak a very different message. For years they have bolstered militia forces, aggressed on our oceanic borders, and attempted to assert their dominance in the annexed territory of the Griffish Isles. Even more shameless, said militia has already attacked soldiers of the crown. Sergeant Silver Spade.”

Shield Wall almost spat at the words, his skull throbbing. Midnight looked to his friend and took notice of the tension in his face. He whispered under his breath, reminding Shield Wall to relax. Shield steadied himself before continuing.

“The sergeant was attacked on the deck of the HMS Compassion four years ago, brutalized by two gryphon militia fighters. They cornered him, lacerated him, beat him within an inch of his life, then carried him out over the sea. After so long we can only presume the brave stallion has found some measure of peace in his brutal end. Yet, as expected, Mr. Pants,” Shield directed his attention to the bespectacled pony. “The crown sees fit to forego a proper investigation in the interest of inviting the brutes to tea parties with the princesses.”

“What rubbish,” an elderly magenta mare spoke up. “Surely Celestia and Luna would’ve seen to this tragedy.”

“It’s an outrage to suggest any less!” Another, a two-toned pegasus with a hefty mustache shouted.

“I’m afraid, my fellows, I can confirm the vice general’s claims.” Midnight Gavel stood, the energy of the room shifting to him. “As Chief Magistrate, I oversee all services of process both on the regional and royal levels. The murder of a military officer during peacetime falls into the royal category, and I have never once seen seen a request for international litigation against Griffonstone. Needless to say, the notion is unthinkable.”

“But Griffonstone has no consistent central government,” Fancy Pants piped up with a dismissive chuckle. “Even if we were to pursue legal action, we cannot hold the entire nation accountable for the actions of rogue forces. I say, Mr. Gavel, who is there to prosecute?”

“The Griffonstone dignitaries we accommodate are regional ministers acting in King Guto’s absence. It is their responsibility to curb these violent transgressions. However, as the vice general can attest, these ‘rogue forces’ are far too well equipped to not have royal support.”

“Well, we certainly can’t just come to their doorstep and demand some form of recompense, can we?” Fancy Pants teased, earning a few giggles from the table. “No, what we would need is some good, old fashioned diplomacy, a chance to hear both sides and t-”

“This is the case of a political assassination and a growing rogue state within an already reluctant ally to our great nation, and you want to talk?” Shield Wall glared at Fancy, his tone hardening with frustration.

“But, without the courts, what would you propose we do?”

“Strike first.”

The room fell deathly silent at Shield Wall’s declaration. All eyes turned to him, as if searching for explanation. Shield Wall stood firm and spoke again. “If you will not hear it from me, then hear it from one who has suffered. Ladies and gentlecolts, I present the Countess Abundant Glow.” With a raise of his hoof all eyes turned to Abby, rising from her seat for all to see. Her sea green eyes, staring out from behind the veil of her fascinator, scanned the room.

“Ladies, gentlecolts, I thank you for coming here to hear the vice general’s proposal. It’s a world I know nothing of, but he has been there for me in the darkest of times and I trust him.” Shield Wall fought to hide the smile trying to break out around his face, an alien tingle forming in his gut. “Four years ago, Silver Spade, the love of my life, was viciously taken from me during a voyage at sea. Gryphon soldiers descended upon his vessel and attacked his crew. My darling Silver fought them off, saving his crewmate before succumbing to his wounds. I’m told he fought bravely, but they… they…”

Tears dripped along the table, forming black streaks down her face. Serenade came to her with a tissue, but a strong foreleg from Abby held him back. She straightened herself and stared out over the crowd. “I was denied peace for my love by the same system of power defending his murderers. All I ask of you is to help us in bringing some semblance of order to this, and to ensure such injustice never happens to anypony again.”

The nobles shifted in their seats, uneasy. Nervous glances and hushed words bounced between them while Abby fought back the quiver building in her lip. It was not the rousing applause she had hoped for. As her expression sank even deeper a blue pegasus mare stood to face her from across the table, one Shield Wall identified as a fellow vice general.

“I won’t speak for the rest of this weak blood,” Stratos began, bowing her head to the countess, “but Sergeant Spade was a good soldier, and I won’t let your love for him be poisoned by this table’s inaction.”

“Madam, can you be so bold?” Fancy Pants’ mouth hung open in shock. “Ignoring your rudeness, can you really support subverting due process and actually launch-”

“Shut it, Pants!” The harsh words zipped Fancy Pants’ mouth closed, as well as quelling all other dissension in the room. Shield and Midnight shared a glance, just as taken aback as the others.

“There are a million reasons you’d sit around and do nothing,” the vice general continued. “But we all know the real reason is because of your station. You’ve spent your whole life knee deep in prestige, while my boys in uniform spend their lives knee deep in mud. Those heathens killed one of our own and all he’s gotten is a funeral without a body. I’d dive in head first for any of them, can you say the same?”

The eyes of the room looked to Fancy Pants. He stood stammering, barely able to think of a proper retort before the vice general returned to her seat, chest puffed in victory. At this, Shield Wall stood and motioned to Serenade who took Abby by the hoof and escorted her out of the meeting room.

“Truly, a far more passionate defense than I could hope to display. Thank you, Vice General Stratos. Everypony, I feel there is nothing left to be said.” Shield nodded to Gavel, who rose from his chair. “Should any of you have questions or suggestions, as always, leave them with ‘our friend from the place where we met that one time for the thing.’ You all know the one. We shall reconvene next month to deliberate on strategy.”

“Wait. Hold on a minute, certainly we can…” Fancy Pants scanned the ponies around him, all gathering their things and rising to leave. After only a few seconds the room had cleared, leaving the three alone. “You… you can’t do this.” Fancy turned to Shield and Midnight, stiffening his upper lip.

“Why not?” Shield began, his face stoic. “Everypony was in agreement, and you heard how the countess felt on the matter. Would you be the one to deny her late lover justice?”

“This is not justice, sir, this is treason!”

“Your point?” Shield’s expression was unchanged.

“Well… well I… I’ll tell. I’ll tell everypony, even the princesses! Surely, hearing of your madness will convince them to stop you.”

“Oh, no doubt. I can only imagine the look on Celestia’s face when she hears about all the terrible things I have planned.”

“Then… then why aren’t you scared?”

“Because you aren’t going to tell; because it is in your best interest not to.”

At this, Gavel pulled a scroll from his bag, adorned with Fancy Pants’ cutie mark. It unfurled and fell to the floor. With a smirk, Midnight began reading. “These are notes taken from my agents inside the city. Don’t worry, you’ve never seen them, but they do tell me a fascinating story about your life, particularly about your marefriend. Miss Fleur de Lis.”

“What have you done to her?” Fancy demanded.

“Oh please, I’m not a savage. No, we simply uncovered some intriguing information about Miss de Lis’ parentage. It must be so terrible for them, their daughter running off and all that.”

“How dare you, sir!” Fancy’s face became red, a vein becoming pronounced along his neck. “Her family is horrible. They would’ve married her off to some pompous bureaucrat as a bargaining chip for their own goals! Though, now I see you two are not so different.”

Shield stomped forward, scaring Fancy from his hooves and onto his haunches, golden eyes boring holes into the trembling noble. “Do not presume to know us. Our mission is one you seem unwilling to understand, so allow me to make things painfully simple. You will not speak, you will not cry for help, and you will not stand in our way. Fail any of these instructions, and I will personally pay the postage to ship your mare back home!”

Fancy sat on the floor, tears welling in his eyes and holding a gaunt expression. “You’re a monster.”

“Do well to remember it.”

Shield Wall and Midnight Gavel strolled away, leaving Fancy Pants speechless on the floor. The door to the conference room shut behind them. Shield stared out the windows lining the hallway and, with a breath, returned to his usual disinterested composure.

“Perhaps I’ll invite Abundant to dinner,” he said to Gavel. “A lovely osteria opened last week I have been dying to try. Care to join us?”

Chapter 7: “If you are to inherit anything from me, you must earn it”

-- 4 years after Nightmare Moon’s return --

A gentle breeze drifted through the trees, carrying the taste of salt with it. The sun sat on its midday throne to bring its rays down upon the island. The sound of birds joined the concerto of crashing waves as all these sensations came together as a form of wild music for Silver, standing within the foliage. His weight shifted to his hind legs, and around his forelegs sat a dark sheet. Eyes scanned the tree before him. Tall, curved slightly and sporting long, verdant leaves stemming up from its peeling bark. His eyes narrowed. With a snap a host of bananas came down from the tree, toppling over themselves and onto the ground. Silver flicked his hoof back and retracted the cloak.

“Woah,” Silver muttered.

“Indeed.” Silver gasped in surprise and flailed around, meeting the sight of his mentor behind him. Silver stumbled and took a breath, earning a jubilant chuckle from Darrox as he approached his student. “Are you having fun?”

“Yeah, I mean,” Silver looked to the cloak around him. “Oh yeah.”

“You have progressed well, though I noticed your hoofwork was slightly too heavy on the right side. You need proper balance, allow me.” The cloak was pulled from Silver and flung over Darrox’s own shoulders. He adjusted the garment to better fit his thin frame, before whipping it out faster than Silver could follow. The stroke his master made had not only culled more of the fruit from the tree, but left a frightening gash in the wood. Darrox gave a wet cough from the exertion.

“How… how?” Silver was dumbstruck at the sheer force of the impact.

“With practice, my boy. You will find it quite easy once-”

“No, I mean, how?”

Darrox took a moment to look over Silver, then the cloak in his hooves. He chuckled a bit, jostling his black and rainbow chitin. “Ah, you want to know that, then? Follow me.”

Darrox rolled up the cloak and returned it to his sack. Their walk along the island was the same as any other day, basking in the sun as it shone through the tall trees before meeting the sand with their hooves. Sunlight danced across Silver’s fur, pronouncing just how much the island had changed him. He was thinner, his argent mane and tail growing to drape a bit over his barrel. The lash wounds had healed, leaving a series of brutish markings in their wake, the two largest crossing over his ribs while one twisted into a terrible curve along his back.

The two returned to camp and Darrox lit the fire with a spark from his horn. He pulled the cloak out before him. “Tell me, my boy, what all have you heard of this?”

“Not a whole lot,” Silver began. “Well, I guess I shouldn’t say that. My dad told me stories about The Ghost when I was young. He said you could reach out like a shadow, dragging bad ponies away into the darkness. That you could peer into a pony’s heart and see the evil lurking inside. He even told me once that you could fly. I didn’t believe him at first, but seeing you now I guess that could be true.”

Darrox shook his head at Silver’s words. “Only partially true, I’m afraid. I cannot see into the hearts of ponies, nor am I some living shade, but there is some truth in the stories. Most of which, I confess, comes from this cloak. Can you see anything, anything unusual?”

Silver strained his eyes as he scanned the cloak. It was as black as a starless night and smooth to the touch, but despite its lightness there was still a heft to it. Silver took a part in his hoof and noticed how it seemed to cling to him. Despite this and its sturdiness, Silver had no answer.

“This was given to me by very special underfolk. They are a colony of spiders I saved during a raid on their home. Diamond dogs had broken in and, when faced with a horde of talking arachnids, did what any ignorant creature would do.”

“Run away screaming?” Silver suggested with a smirk.

“Burn it all down. It was early in my career, and these devilish degenerates had just robbed a train car of its valuables. They fled into the caves of Rambling Rock Ridge. Had I not been able to locate the riverbed and open a water channel in the cave, I shudder to think the poor beasts may not have survived. In return, their queen spun me this from her very silk. There is power in this garment, Silver, some of which even I have been unable to discover.”

“You mean like magic?” Silver perked up at the thought. “Real magic?”

“Oh no, my boy. I am afraid the cloak is incapable of casting spells, despite my efforts. It is rather resistant, however, and has served me well as a means of defense. Let me show you.” Darrox draped the cloak over Silver’s shoulders and took a few steps back. His horn began to glow as he motioned Silver to stand. “Come now, my boy, this was going to be part of your training, anyway.”

Silver took a moment to look over the cloak on his shoulders. His gut tensed, hooves slightly shaking as his stood up and walked away from the camp circle. “O-Okay, ready.”

Swirling green power danced around Darrox’s twisted horn, the first time Silver had seen such a display of changeling magic. The aura intensified before condensing around the horn, creating and almost solid sheath of magic, before Darrox released it in a single blast of power. Silver flung his forehooves up on reflex, the cloak clinging to them tightly. To his surprise, though the magic blast certainly collided, Silver felt no pain. He peeked out from behind the garment to see the sand around him had begun to solidify into glass.

“Hoo, woah, that was… oh, wow, I…” Silver babbled at the display. Darrox gave a fang-filled smile as he approached.

“You see? Perfectly safe. I have done much testing and I believe, if performed correctly, the cloak is capable of deflecting spells instead of merely dispersing them. I’ve never been able to perform the feat, mind you, but it is certainly possible.”

Silver paid this no mind, far too busy flipping and flaring the cape around in a mock fashion, giddy from the rush of surviving a magical impact. Darrox placed a hoof upon his student’s shoulder.

“Heh, sorry,” Silver said sheepishly. “It’s just, I never thought I’d be learning how to be… well, you.”

The two returned to their seats, the fire crackling between them. Silver fumbled with the ends of the cloak, still adorned on his shoulders. “Tell me.” Darrox said with a soft smile.

“I grew up in a not-so-rich town. It’s actually not far from Rambling Rock Ridge. It’s called Coltistrano. You ever heard of it?”

“In my travels, yes. A quaint little place, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Yeah. It’s always been on the poor side. My dad grew up there. My mom’s from Los Pegasus, like the rest of the Card family. I once asked her why we never moved to Los Pegasus like the rest of the family, but I think she just wanted to get away from all the gambling and competing. My dad was kind of a town celebrity. Always helping out and fixing stuff for everypony. Once, they actually put dad on the ballot for mayor but he declined. I asked him he just said he didn’t want it, that power like that was too much for him.

“One day my dad brings home a book from one of the roving traders that came through every now and then. I think he still has it, too, a big leather book full of stories from around Equestria. That where he read me my first story about you. It was the story of how you stopped a greedy mine owner from digging into Canterlot’s gold reserves.”

“Oh, by the Sun!” Darrox hollered, coughing intermittently between bouts of laughter. “I remember that little bout. Bit Pincher, I believe his name was, a proper example of ‘greed’ if there ever was one.”

“That's the one! You dove down into the mineshaft and got into a railcar chase with them. It was so cool hearing it as a colt. He told me a new one every night, sometimes the same one if I really liked it.”

“Am I to suppose these stories are what inspired you to a life of service?”

Silver's expression fell. “No… not it’s not. I did that because of my folks. We never had a lot, and there weren’t a lot of opportunities for a pony who was good at card games. I did back alley gambling a few times, but it was never enough, and I wanted to help my parents out, so I enlisted. They had a good set up, and I could send part of my salary to them every month. After a year I was able to swing a place for them in Canterlot, since I was still living in the barracks. You wouldn’t believe the look on mom’s face when she saw it.”

Silver’s face became wistful, the weight of four long years finally making itself known. Darrox took notice and rose from his seat. “Come. Fight me”

“What?” Silver looked up, snapping from his sullen mood.

“It has been far too long since we have had a proper sparring match. If you are to inherit anything from me, you must earn it.”

Silver smirked and stood, placing the cloak back into the bag. The two adopted a fighting stance, Darrox eager to see the fruit of his labor retraining Silver. After a few moments staring each other down they moved in.

Silver opened by bringing his forehoof down onto Darrox, who let the blow flow down his side before following up with a strike of his own. Blocking was the first thing Darrox reprogrammed in Silver’s brain. Instead of blocking, Silver deflected the incoming strike along his other forehoof, curling it up and trapping it over his shoulder. Darrox used the opportunity to employ the second lesson he gave his pupil: use of one’s momentum. He pushed his foreleg deeper into Silver’s hold and, with a strong twist of his midsection, wrapped around his head and flung Silver across the sand.

The argent pony recovered and thrust his hind legs against the powdered earth beneath him. The lunge caught Darrox by surprise, being lifted from his legs and brought back down to the soft sand beneath him. Here, it became a battle of skill. The tussle was an exchange of grapples and limb locks, forcing the two to clamber over each other to control the other’s center of gravity. At this, Darrox began to cough uncontrollably.

“Darrox, are you okay?” Silver asked, snapping immediately from the practice.

Darrox, however, was subject to a torrent of hacking. He toppled over, limbs sprawled across the sand. From beneath the pitiful sight of his teacher, Silver spotted specks of green blood on the sand. He waited no longer, hauling Darrox over his back and rushing to the stern, kicking open the already broken door of the captain’s cabin to place Darrox down onto the bedding. Finally, the coughing stopped, and Darrox looked to Silver wearily. “Oh… my boy, forgive me. I fear I must’ve got some sand in-”

“How long?”

“Oh, only a few moments, the sand-”

“There was blood, Darrox. How long?”

“Only a week or two,” he said weakly. “Truly, there is nothing to worry about, it comes and goes.”

Silver pulled the covers over Darrox and fetched the canteen. “Just… just stay here. Get some rest.”

With nothing more said Darrox watched Silver leave, the sounds of the waves echoing in the room.

Silver sat on his haunches, letting the cool ocean water pool around him during late tide. The sun had begun to set over the horizon. It’s light reflected a warm orange glow along the surface of the water. It was a sight Silver was very familiar with, tracing the path of the sun with his eyes as it began to dip below the water. That was when it happened, the sight Silver waited for every night. The warm sphere of light dipped below the horizon, and for a moment its light shot through the tops of the waves, creating a brilliant display along the water. Just as the sun was about to surrender to the coming night, a final flash of green broke out on the horizon, before retreating for good. Silver felt a stiffness in his chest as he struggled to keep his lip from quivering, whispering Abby’s name.

“Spectacular.”

Silver jumped a bit at the surprise comment. Darrox stood beside him, a blanket wrapped around his body and the canteen around his neck.

“Every time I see it, I am always astonished. Such is the beauty of nature, I suppose.”

“Why aren’t you in bed?” Silver asked without looking, returned to his sullen state.

“Would you believe me if I said I was concerned?” Silver said nothing, instead allowing the tide to now surround him with each pass. Darrox stood beside him and looked out over the water. His breathing was ragged.

“I’ve lost enough already, Darrox. Without you, how am I going to get off this place? How am I supposed to stop Shield Wall, and how am I supposed to get my life back?” Silver’s voice neared a shout before he caught himself. He sighed and looked to his mentor. “Without you, what’s the point?”

The tide began to recede, the water calming. Darrox took a seat next to Silver. He stuck his hoof into the sack on his side and rummaged for a moment, pulling a small wrapped object from within. Darrox held it for a moment, shifting it between his hooves before unraveling it from the cloth for Silver to behold. “What is that?”

The object was a smooth piece of polished stone, thin and with a light blue marking upon its face. “This is a sending stone, my boy, I have had it in my possession for many years.” Darrox kept his gaze on the stone, avoiding Silver’s eyes. “It can call the owner of its other half to me.”

Silver stood from the damp sand, dressed in a look of incredulity. The wash of emotions inside him forced his muscles to tense, his jaw to clench in both anger and confusion. “You.. you just had this,” Silver hissed through his teeth. “All this time?”

“I did.” Darrox’s words were plain, but struck a most sensitive chord.

“You’re serious? Sweet Celestia, you’re serious.” Silver began pacing through the sand forcefully. “You mean I spent years, years, suffering and dreaming and begging for a way off this damn island and you had the answer all along? In your damn bag?!”

Darrox tried to speak, but the sheer volume of Silver’s voice drowned out his attempts at reason. “Why? Why didn’t you tell me? We could’ve been home already. Shield Wall would be in prison, I would be with Abby, and everything would’ve been just perfect! But no! You decided to sit on it. Why?”

Silver fell to his knees, tears falling as his hoof shook and beat the sand limply. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because of all you told me.” Darrox began. “I am old, Silver, old and... ailing from sickness. I have been on this island for fourteen years, and would spend fourteen more if it meant dying a peaceful death, knowing my mission was done. Then, you arrived and told me Shield Wall still lived. To know my greatest enemy still walked free while I sat old and imprisoned on this island was too great a pain to die with, and to hear what he did to you made it all the worse.

“I kept this from you because I wanted to help you. Do you remember what you were like when you first landed here? Violent, wrathful, so eager to drown your pain in blood. Where you may have once seen purpose, I saw a great pain. This is why I have trained you. I wanted you to be ready for all your vengeance would bring, and to help preserve the pony your family would call their son. That Abby would call her love.”

Darrox joined Silver in the middle of the disturbed sand, kneeling down before him. “By a cruel twist of fate you have inherited my greatest enemy, my greatest pain. In turn, I wanted you to have all my strength to stand against it. Once you were ready I would use the stone and we would leave, knowing for certain I left Equestria with somepony stronger than myself to aid her. Somepony who-”

Darrox’s cough returned. Blood came from his mouth as he moved to cover it with a forehoof, doubling over onto the ground. Silver grabbed hold and carried him once again, leaving his anger on the sand as they slowly returned to the stern in silence. After they ascended the crude ramp leading to the split deck Silver helped Darrox settle in, falling asleep almost immediately upon touching the bed. A few, weaker coughs rose from the changeling’s mouth before his ragged breathing calmed.

Silver exited the cabin, being careful not to slam the door, taking a few steps toward the broken railing to look out over the ocean. The stars shone, and in his hoof Silver held the sending stone. What he thought would be easy now became nigh-impossible decision, his mind racing with thoughts of years spent stranded, if anypony would even remember or care about him. Darrox’s words about being ready came to him. He was trained in Darrox’s ways. The cloak obeyed him, like another limb, and with it Silver knew he could right the wrongs done to him. Those words, though, still brought a painful tingle in his gut, but single cough from the cabin pulled Silver from his spiral of confusion. He couldn’t bear to see his mentor suffer, and Silver found himself fearing the worst.

“Six years,” Silver declared, swiping a hoof over the stone’s sigil. “Six years is long enough.”

Chapter 8: “He’s mentioned that thing before, talked about it like something out of a horror story.”

Darrox revealed all he knew of his ailment. He noted other times it came up, lasting only a few days at the most. That was three months ago.

He laid in his makeshift bed throughout the day, where Silver cared for him when not consumed by his training. Darrox’s once-vibrant streaks of chitin lost some of their luster, and ever move made his hooves tremble, even struggling to drink from a canteen. When he found the strength to speak it was low, barely breaching beyond his lips and into Silver’s trained ears. Silver remained undeterred and did all he could to make Darrox comfortable.

Every day Silver would take a moment to stare out over the ocean, the sending stone heavy in hoof, scanning the horizon for ships or any signs of life. Only a little was revealed to him of who the other stone belonged to. Darrox described him as an ally and friend from the old days, a stalwart companion through his years of adventuring, but as these early morning searches piled up Silver found himself wondering if this “old friend” had kicked the bucket before Darrox did. He pushed the thought away. At night he found himself out by the fire waiting, until he would eventually drift off to sleep, using the cloak for warmth against the cool night breeze.

“What’s ‘dis, then?” The muffled voice caused Silver to stir, along with the sound of grinding sand and other voices joining in.

“Cool it, dirt-brain, it’s just some pony.” Silver’s eyes shot open and met the form of a gryphoness standing over him, the source of the scratchy voice. She was tall, taller than him, with a score of snow-white feathers up her neck and head and covered in toned muscle. He scanned the beach quickly, finding the shapes of other creatures in his still-focusing vision. The gryphoness turned her head and shouted at the pony’s eyes meeting hers. “Woah no, he’s alive!”

Silver, on instinct, whipped out one end of the cloak and wrapped her head, pulling her down onto the sand. The struggle brought the attention of the others and, with Silver’s vision fully returned, he saw a menagerie of ponies, gryphons, a diamond dog, and one very big minotaur, all soon surrounding Silver. Those with claws to hold with pointed swords at him, with some ponies flapping their wings and others digging their hooves into the sand. By a quick count, there were eight surrounding Silver. The minotaur, broad and sporting a deep ginger coat, bellowed out to the cornered pony. “Give it up, grass-fed, you’re surrounded.”

“How kind of you,” Silver began, smirking. “To relieve me the burden of aiming.”

Two pegasi charged from different angles. Silver launched from his hooves, clearing the ground and causing the two pegasi to collide before crashing onto them with all four hooves, unprepared to be bucked by the earth pony charging him. Silver toppled over the sand into the claws of a gryphon trio who clamored to pin him down. The cloth of the cloak shot out around one of their swords, yanking it from the gryphon’s grasp and sending the pommel straight into another’s beak.

The gryphoness recovered, standing to see the minotaur begin to charge with both of his glistening horns facing forward, and Silver too busy dispatching the gryphons to dodge the bone-shaking impact of the minotaur’s head on his back. Silver grabbed hold for dear life, but the minotaur hoisted Silver from the ground and flung him back towards the water. As he soared, though, the gryphoness leapt and caught him by the cloak, beating her powerful wings to spin mid-air and send Silver straight into the sand with a loud thud. Before he could recover, a rumbling in the sand caught his attention. He flipped over just in time to see a massive paw shoot up from the soft earth and strike him right on the jaw. The diamond dog climbed from his hole in the beach and joined the rest of the crew. Silver recovered quickly, before something heavy collided with the back of his skull. He doubled over, clutching his head, as a gravelly voice called out.

“What be all the comotion, eh?” It squawked. “I send ye ingrates with a simple laundry list a’ chores to do, and what do I find? Roughhousin’ with the locals!”

Silver turned his aching head enough to see a thick glass bottle on the sand next to him, thrown by the nearing image of a large, patchy and black-feathered gryphon in a tricorn hat. Silver tried to stand, the bump making him woozy, as the gryphon took hold of the cloak and pulled it from the dizzy earth pony. Silver was yanked into the gryphon’s face.

“I’ve seen this before,” he said firmly, his voice just barely coming in over the waves. “What’ve ye done to ‘im?”

“Wha…” Silver tried to reply.

“I said.” The gryphon pushed Silver to the ground, placing a large, gangly claw over his chest. “What’ve ye done to ‘im?! Ye dare wear his adornments, flitz about as if ye were ‘im? Ye’r gonna take me to ‘im. Now!”

Silver could only squirm under the gryphon’s powerful claw, the jagged points now digging into this flesh. He nodded convincingly enough for the claw to be lifted as he rose from the sand. All around the band of invaders eyed him, nursing their wounds. The gryphoness walked to him with a glare. “You heard him, dweeb. Mush!”

She slapped the back of his head, right on top of the growing welt left by the bottle. Silver stumbled a bit before correcting, slowly making his way across the beach. “Are you his friend?” Silver directed coolly to the black gryphon.

“Well, I sure as winter ain’t yer’s. Hope to it, ya bilge rat!” A slap on Silver’s back punctuated his demand, causing him to wince. The site of the wreck came into view. The gryphon picked up his pace as well, soon surpassing Silver and beginning to jog up to the crude ramp.

“I don’t get it.” The gryphoness next to Silver stated. “I thought there was supposed to be treasure on this speck.”

“Shut it, missy,” the captain directed. “What lies in this ‘ere wreck is worth more than gold.”

Silver turned to the gryphoness and delivered a powerful headbutt that brought her to her knees. The minotaur, unphased at Silver’s escape attempt, reached out and grabbed the pony’s tail as he ran for the ramp. He tugged, pulling Silver back before sending his meaty fist straight into Silver’s nose.

“Contain the lad, will ye? Sheesh.” The captain turned and put a claw to the cabin door.

“Silver?”

The captain froze at the weak voice from inside, soft hoofsteps following before it began to open. A cough announced Darrox, standing wearily and much thinner than usual as his weary eyes drooped and scanned the deck, meeting the captain’s own stunned face. He tensed before leaping with unknown strength onto the figure before him, producing a knife from behind his hoof. Darrox's glare held firm even as the cough wracked his chest. The group on the beach began to rush up the ramp before the captain called them off.

“No, no stop! Darrox. Darrox, it’s me. It’s Gorn. Don’t ye remember?”

Darrox’s ragged breathing slowed as he pulled the knife from Gorn’s neck. Bewilderment crossed over his face. “Gorn?” He whispered.

He stepped off the captain, wobbling a bit. Silver broke free from the grip holding him and rushed to Darrox to steady him. Gorn looked to the duo before looking down to the cloak in his claw.

“So, eh, is the kid your, uh…” Gorn started, sheepishly rubbing his head.

“How did you find us, Gorn?” Darrox asked through another cough.

“Find ye? Sir, I been lookin’ fer ye nigh on fifteen years, now. I had nary a clue ‘fore the sending stone lit up.”

“The stone?” Darrox quizzed, turning to Silver. “You activated the stone?”

“I had to,” Silver stated. “You’re not well, Darrox. If somepony, anypony, would get the message it was worth it to try.”

“What did I tell you?” Darrox raised his voice, but the strain brought on a coughing fit. Silver steadied him, seating him on the deck.

“I don’t care if I’m ready, Darrox, I never will be if you croak in the middle of the night.”

“Is he sick? He looks a might thin. I swear if ye poisoned ‘im I’ll-”

“Just lay off, alright? He needs help, not your best ‘mom’ impression. Do you have a ship, can we get him there?”

“Don’t ye be barkin’ orders ‘ere, boy!” Gorn shouted. “I came for him, not some pasty pony.”

“And out of the last six years, which one of us has been with him? I’ve never even heard of you.”

“Yer disrespectin’ll earn you a short drop an’a sudden stop.”

“Shut up!” The gryphoness’ shout rang out over the bickering. “So, is there any gold on this island or not? Because I want to get paid.”

“‘Ave some patience, Gilda, ‘fore I pop a blood vessel from all your naggin’.” Gorn replied. “There’s gold ‘ere, but it’s not ours. It’s his.” Gilda’s sharp eyes flew to the withered changeling in Silver’s forehooves.

“Really?” Silver said. “You’re here for gold? Not to rescue us?”

“What? No! No, no, no, no.” Gorn said, taking one of Darrox’s hooves in his claws. “I am ‘ere for ye... just not both of ye. It took me awhile to get a ship an’ crew together, and convincin’ ‘em to come out ‘ere without pay up-front was a nightmare. But I’m ‘here now, sir, an’ we can get you home.”

“Us.” Darrox stated.

“Eh, what?”

“Us. Silver and I.”

Gorn darted his gaze between Darrox and Silver. “Sir, I don’t think that be a wise move, the little runt attacked us on the beach an’-”

“He’s still alive.”

“Aye, he is, quite regrettably, though. I figured the ‘taur fellow’d turn his guts to jelly ‘fore-”

“Shield Wall is alive.”

Those four words shut Gorn up quick. His face became devoid of all excitement, a chilling tone coating his gravelly voice. “That dreadful cur’s alive?”

“Yes,” said Darrox, taking a step forward out of Silver’s embrace. “His evil still holds sway over Equestria. Silver was left in these waters by Shield Wall’s cursed contingent. He is my apprentice, Gorn.”

The captain could only hold his beak open at the declaration. The crew around his traded glances between each other, searching for answers. The minotaur took a slow step forward, leaning down to the captain. “So, uh, are they not bad guys?” Gorn shook his head. At this the minotaur took another step towards Silver and Darrox. Silver readied himself and took a low stance, but the minotaur merely extended his hand to the earth pony. “My name is Steelhorn,” he said in a soft, unfitting tone. “I’m sorry I yanked your tail and bashed your face in, the captain made it sound like we were running into danger, so…”

Silver’s posture slacked. He stood and raised his hoof into the minotaur’s grasp, shaking. “No problem,” Silver said, warily, still eyeing the hulk of bulk before him. Darrox gave a weary smile before approaching the minotaur and the rest of the crew.

“You all have come here for gold, and I assure you will all receive what you’re due. Gorn, will you please take the crew below deck? The chests are behind the iron bars.”

“Gold, gold!” The diamond dog began pacing with his snout to the deck, sniffing up a storm. “Rusty like gold. And gems! Where bug pony hide them?!” Gorn buried his face in his claw at Rusty's enthusiasm.

“Be kind, though, much of what lies in the hold is needed for our plan.” He coughed again as Gorn nodded, leading the crew down the ramp and through the broken hull. Silver stood by, observing, ignorant to the contents of the chests Darrox spoke of. Upon command Steelhorn took hold of the aging iron and pulled the aged bars apart with a snap, crumbling to pieces as the crew beheld dozens of chests, stacked high upon themselves, with only a few hooves of standing space past the threshold.

“Get to haulin’!” Gorn ordered. “Ye get yer cut once it’s all on board.”

Hours passed as the crew labored, lugging hefty chests across the water and onto their ship anchored just beyond the sandbar. It was a smaller vessel, made of a dark wood and sporting dirty white sails. Silver shuddered at the sight, with memories of his torment upon the Compassion returning to him, along with images of his own dangling body. On the final row out to the ship, Silver helped Darrox board the skiff with the rest of the crew. Gorn, however, stopped him with a firm claw.

“Listen ‘ere, driftwood,” Gorn said in a hushed tone. “Don’t for a second think I don’t know what ye went through. I see the scars on yer pelt. That Shield Wall is a right monster, but Darrox is sick.”

“Are you trying to scare me into helping you?” Silver said, glaring at Gorn.

“No, lad, I’m tryin’ to make sure ye got yer priorities straight. We’ll get him treated an’ patched up, but ye best not forget what he’s done for ye. Savvy?” Silver took another moment to look the captain over, but slowly raised his hoof to the gryphon. Gorn took it and shook, a hint of a smile coming across his beak. “Welcome to the crew of the Tornado, Silver. Try not to go overboard again.”

The two made their way onto the skiff. After the short journey and boarding the Tornado Silver was able to get a good look at the vessel. It was clean, scrubbed to a near-polish and adorned with fresh ropes and pulleys. It was a handsome vessel, and the nervous knot in Silver’s stomach began to pass. He and Gorn hoisted Darrox from the skiff and helped him to the Captain’s cabin. The inside was rather bare, save for a few maps and tools scattered about. In the back was a small bed they placed Darrox on, bringing the sheets over him. He turned to Silver and spoke. “You were right,” Darrox said.

“Right? About what?”

“Leaving,” Darrox nestled deeper into the mattress. “We both had wasted far too much time there.”

Heavy eyelids closed on Darrox's face as sleep took him. Silver, once sure his master was comfortable, turned to exit the cabin, watching Gorn bark orders to the crew as they ran across the deck, some soaring upwards to release the sails, the minotaur pulling the anchor from the deep. Silver walked out to starboard, where Gilda stood tightening a series of ropes.

“Need help with anything?” Silver’s question earned him a cold look from the gryphoness.

“Not really, kinda hard to tie rope with hooves and no horn.” Gilda said coldly, pausing in her knotting before speaking again. “No offense… I guess.”

“None taken.” Silver replied, electing instead to look out to the island. He took a deep breath of the vessel’s wood and oil smell, expecting some surge of excitement, but none came. He stood along the railing with no sense of freedom, no flutter in his stomach and legs. Instead of leaping for joy and shouting his relief to the sky, Silver merely sighed. His stoic expression caught Gilda’s attention.

“So, uh… how long were you on that spec?”

“Six years, I think.”

“Whoa... all in all, not a bad place to get stuck on. I bet the fishing was killer.”

“Yeah, ponies don’t eat fish.” Silver said, chuckling a bit at memories of Darrox’s bizarre diet.

“You’re missing out.” The two remained in silence. Gilda finished securing the tethers and called up to one of the gryphons, who signaled back down before dropping the sail.

“How long is it to port?” Silver asked, breaking their silence.

“A few days, maybe a week depending on weather. You in a hurry or something?”

“Yeah, ‘a hurry or something’.”

“Has it got something to do with that freaky cape thing?”

Silver turned to Gilda, unsure of how to answer. “I… I don’t think-”

“Look, Gorn talks a lot, and when you volunteer for night watch you hear things. He’s mentioned that thing before, talked about it like something out of a horror story. I’ve seen enough of Equestria to know stuff like that is rare, and I’ve also read enough to have an idea who that rag belongs to. Besides, you owe me an explanation for shoving my head in the sand.”

Silver could only laugh. He slapped his hoof upon the railing a few times, causing Gilda to scoff a bit through a smile of her own. This was the relief he was looking for: interaction, to actually feel surrounded by life. Silver’s chortling dimmed before looking to Gilda again. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, it’s got something to do with that freaky cape thing. If you’re lucky I might tell you about it on the way home.”

“Ha,” Gilda scoffed. “You got some crazy plot to save Equestria or something?”

Silver raised an eyebrow at Gilda’s guess, his smile unwavering. After a second Gilda’s face changed to one of surprise, flinching only at the sound of Gorn calling to cast off. She snapped from her daze and went to work, looking back to Silver occasionally. Silver returned to looking out at the island. The cursed place he had called home for six years began to fade from view as they sailed around the crescent and traveled west. At this point the sun was beginning to hang low in the sky. He drowned out the sounds of the crew around him, focusing only on the sloshing of the water below. Silver ran a hoof along the scar on his ribs and, though there was still some pain, he recalled all that Shield Wall had done to him.

“Make way for Horseshoe Bay!” Gorn cried out, giving the wheel a final tug before the Tornado caught full wind and sped off, away from the island.

Chapter 9: “We have survived worse”

Massive doors stood cracked open before him, allowing a cacophony of voices and chattering forward into the hallway. Shield Wall stood perplexed. In an aura of magic he lifted the document again: a memo, sent by the Office of the Princess, inviting all leading nobility to an impromptu meeting in the throne room. Peeking up from the parchment he dared to peer inside.

Everypony from the General’s Board to castle managers stood cloistered together, mingling with each other in a cloud of shared confusion. Shield's jaw tensed, slowly pushing the door open and feeling a wave of volume almost overtake him when he entered. The throne room was unadorned, save for the usual sconces of flowers and white drapery. Along the sides were rows of chairs and seating pillows, as well as tables of refreshments closer to the throne itself. Many of the faces Shield Wall recognized, though he did his best to avoid eye contact.

“You too, Vice General?”

From behind him, Shield Wall saw the hulking warmaster approach. His turquoise coat had faded, somewhat, over the years, but his stature still towered over Shield as he forced a smile. “Yes, sir,” he said. “It seems we all have been brought to this little ‘surprise party’. Though, I trust there is some purpose to it.”

“If it’s the princess, then there is always a purpose.” Frontline stated, plainly. Shield Wall scoffed under his breath before another voice rang out over the crowd.

“Ladies and gentlecolts, please take your seats,” said a mare with dark-rimmed glasses that Shield recognized as Raven Inkwell. “The Princesses have arrived.”

Immediately ponies rushed to their seats. Shield’s eyes followed a rather chubby pegasus hurriedly waddling to his seat with a mass of concessions in his wings. A silent groan was all Shield could utter at the display, but once all were finally seated, the doors behind the throne opened. Princess Celestia and Princess Luna made their way out into the throne room, standing tall and adorned with glittering and uncannily polished raiment bedecked in gold and blue, respectively, their ethereal manes flowing like autumn wind as regal strides guided them to the crowd. Behind them was another, a unicorn of pure white, that followed to their side. The rows of ponies all stood and bowed before their rulers, some muttering prayers while others remained completely silent. Celestia looked over the crowd and raised her hoof.

“At ease, everypony.” In an instant the rows of ponies returned to their seats, their eyes fixed upon the two princesses. Shield Wall, however, strayed his gaze and scanned for Midnight Gavel, seated toward the front on the other side of the room.

“My sister, Luna, and I are sorry to have called this meeting on such short notice. It is, however, of great importance.” Celestia turned her head to Luna, who nodded.

“Indeed,” Luna began, taking a step forward. “Our first decree is to thank ye all for your unflinching service to the crown in the face of Tirek’s onslaught. The bravery and loyalty of thou are beyond measure and will be remembered.”

The guests began to applaud, clapping their hooves and stomping the ground before Luna raised a hoof, silencing them. “However, while Celestia’s office is concerned with the restoration effort in the areas afflicted the worst, 'tis our office responsible for ensuring our defenses are appropriate for another such event. Therefore, we call upon thine cooperation during this internal review of your charges.”

Shield Wall’s posture snapped straight at this. From across the room, he caught Midnight’s gaze meeting his own.

“To ensure the accuracy and such an assessment, we have called upon and outside source to advise in this investigation. Ladies and gentlecolts, we present Miss Rarity, the Element of Generosity.” Rarity stepped forward to meet the applause, giving a small bow.

“Thank you very much, princess,” she began in a refined tone. “I am most honored to assist your highness and all of you in such an important matter. To think of all that blasted ruffian, Tirek, did to Ponyville, why, I simply could not refuse the chance to clean up his mess. I promise to do all I can in making Equestria a safer place.”

While the ponies around him watched with smiles and rapt attention, Shield Wall felt a heat rising to his ears and a sickening tingle rush through his body. He looked to Midnight again, who could only close his eyes and tense his brow. Other nobles, who Shield recognized from their secret meetings, seemed to bounce in their seats at Rarity’s declaration.

“Of course, ‘tis why you have been summoned,” Luna interjected. “For the sake of an honest evaluation we command this meeting be kept secret from your underlings, but the Investigations Bureau will be present under our authority. Do your best to give them your cooperation.”

A conglomerate sound of affirmation rose almost in unison. Celestia took a step before her sister, a warm smile across her face. “My little ponies, we thank you for your willingness to help make Equestria safer. I can only hope we never have to face such a terrible threat again, but knowing we have such dedicated ponies like yourselves gives me hope. Thank you, all, you are dismissed, and we very much look forward to seeing you all at the Grand Galloping Gala.”

The crowd of ponies moved around Shield Wall, blurring his sight, the heat in his ears a blaze as he made a beeline to Midnight Gavel, pulling him aside and out of the room. The two unicorns almost sprinted through the thinning crowd. They exchanged glances, remaining silent, making their way to the west wing of the palace and up to Shield Wall’s office. Shield stamped down the hall before Gavel and waved the door open with his magic, allowing his friend to enter before slamming it shut with a thud as he turned to Gavel and, with a breath, condensed his welling anger and frustration into a single word. “Buck.”

“This is certainly sudden,” Gavel said. "But not unexpected. Don’t forget the review after the changeling invasion. They investigated every department for signs for imposters and saboteurs. We have survived worse.”

“Yes, yes, but now they have her,” Shield huffed, stepping over to his desk. “Before it was easy. We could either threaten, bribe, or simply ‘off’ the investigators if they got too close, but she’s a damned hero. An icon. Did you see how the nobility fawned over her?” Shield Wall produced the crystal decanter from his desk and poured two glasses, floating one to Gavel. He downed his own in one swift gulp, not even flinching at the sting in this throat. “Pathetic."

“How is it any different? Miss Rarity is certainly famous, but she’s hardly a threat to the mission. I cannot fathom one unicorn would do so much as to unravel years of meticulous planning in a few weeks.”

“It is not about what she will do, it is about what she will inspire,” Shield Wall began. “Picture it, Midnight: we work our hooves to the bone plotting, funding, and gathering backers to our righteous cause. We give them security and promise of profit in return for their support, then along comes the Princesses talking about their own 'solution' while promoting it all with a national hero as their mascot.”

“Are you saying we will lose support to this?”

“Oh yes, indeed, because now they are not afraid. With Celestia and Luna addressing their fears, the nobility will side with them simply out of adoration and, to my disappointment, convenience.”

Shield downed another glass as Midnight stood in thought. After a few moments of silence he spoke. “Without the support of the nobility the plan is ruined, not to mention they may feel emboldened enough to talk. Fancy Pants, surely, would be the first. What do we do, Shield?”

Shield abandoned the decanter and walked to the window, forcing it open wide and allowing the wind and sounds of the city into the room. There he stood. His gaze became half-lidded, his breathing slowed. In his mind, he traced over the events of the day, following each and every pathway to a possible conclusion. Just on the peripheral of his trance, Shield Wall could hear the creaking of the floor behind him, where he calculated the distribution of weight. Outside, he watched the many passersby. From their lips he could read conversations about departmental reviews, the prices at The Tasty Treat, jokes about an imperfect golf game. His ears twitched and spun at every noise around him, unconsciously.

Midnight stood behind him, patiently staring. It was these trances his friend would enter that Gavel admired so much. He took a few steps to the desk, earning no reaction from Shield Wall, save a twitch of his ear. He poured a little more from the decanter as Shield’s mouth began to emit a soft mumbling, vocalized his options and available methods. Within his entranced rambling were the sounds of mind control, extortion, a framing for Grogar worship, all of which Gavel knew were achievable for them. Gavel nearly choked when the window was slammed shut. He coughed, sputtering from the surprise and the burn in his windpipe.

“Midnight,” Shield said calmly. “I need you to contact Serenade.”

“Alright,” Gavel replied through the last of his coughs. “Shall I send a letter or-”

“Use the stone.”

“The stone?” Gavel asked, a wash of worry on his face. “Direct communication is risky, especially in the palace. It could be intercepted, or worse.”

“We do not have the luxury of time. Do you have it?”

“Yes, yes,” Gavel replied. He dug into his personal bag and, after rummaging for a few seconds, produced a smooth, jet black stone with a white sigil on the front. He placed the stone on the desk before Shield Wall, who took his seat. Shield waved his hoof over it, the stone glowing with arcane life. After a few moments the light twisted and swirled into the face of Serenade.

“Yes, Mr. Wall,” the image said. “How might I assist you?”

“Where are we with the recruiting?” Shield Wall’s tone had shifted from calm to cold in an instant. “I was promised a standing strength report last week and I need those numbers now.”

“Of course, of course. My usual secretary had an accident during his… reeducation,” Serenade said with a wry smile. "But I assure you we are in the final round of fresh blood before I send them to you. Did you, perhaps, want to recruit more? I am certain I can find more starving and desperate in a town like this.”

“Hardly. You are to send eight of your most well-trained and effective followers to Canterlot by week’s end.”

“Eight?” Serenade’s smile faded. “Mr. Wall, perhaps a lesser number would more reasonable, the younger ones need proper beat-”

“It is either eight operatives or your eight percent cut,” Shield interjected. “Send them to me, and do not resort to excuses. You have more than enough muscle to maintain our hold in the east, especially that hole of a town. You have until the end of the week.”

The feed was cut off before Serenade could retort. Shield floated his glass to him and sipped, while Gavel stood, perplexed. “What are you planning, Shield?”

“Something to boost our followers’ morale,” he replied, taking another sip. “Oh, please Gavel, stop with that look. We are at a delicate point in our mission and we cannot afford to lose any ground, not when we are so close.”

Gavel paused, ignoring the sickening flutter in his gut. “I trust you, Shield. But what of the nobility, and Pants, no less? What are you planning that will keep them in line?”

Shield Wall only smiled to his friend, finishing the last of his drink and gently placing the glass onto the desk. He reclined in the large, leather chair and let out a soft sigh. “Try not to worry, Gavel,” Shield said before closing his eyes. “You, after all, have a performance review to prepare for.”

Chapter 10: “This isn’t right, Gilda, this isn’t my home.”

An omnipresent hum wafted up from the port town of Horseshoe Bay. Workers were shouting between each other along the docks, preparing for the arrival of another merchant vessel carrying goods, while other ponies took their time between stores and merchants. Scores of ponies and other creatures hauled away cargo and hoisted moorings as a part of their daily chores and dodging the veritable hurricane of gulls swarming above them, their cawing a choir ringing out across the brilliant blue sky. Cursing, grunting, and the smell of salt on the air told the crew of the Tornado thier long voyage was finally over.

Silver stood on deck dressed in worn, black sailors garments, with the unusual addition of pants hiding his cutie mark. His gaze was captured by the crowd of ponies traveling around the port town. Six years since he saw such a crowd, six years since anything beyond the beach. All he could do was watch them dart in and out of the stone and wooden buildings lining the harbor. From behind, Silver felt a hard slap on his back.

“Wake up, mop head,” Gilda spat. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of leaving the ship.”

“Let’s just say I’m out of practice.” Silver smiled, earning him a roll of Gilda’s eyes.

“Ugh, you’re an idiot. If Gorn were here he’d kick your flank off this ship himself.”

“Where is Gorn? He said he was looking for a doctor.”

“Ya-huh,” Gilda sighed, leaning against the railing. “Off to find a pony doctor, paid by a gryphon pirate, to patch up a changeling geezer. I’m sure the market is teeming with those.”

“Hey, he’s not a geezer,” Silver huffed. “He’s sick. You wouldn’t be talking smack if it was your flank he’d been beating up for six years.”

“Ha! For real? You lost to that old fart for six years straight?”

“He’s tougher than he looks,” Silver shot back. “And I bet you couldn’t even handle me on a good day.”

“Oh, is that a challenge, dweeb?” Gila turned a bit to Silver, smiling as she tensed her talons.

“You bet, pussycat,” Silver held his ground, returning a smirk. “Take a swing at me and you’re going… down.”

Gilda held her sinister gaze, but twitched after a moment. Soon her face fell, only for one of her claws to reach up and clutch it before letting out a long groan. Silver, however, maintained his smirk. “You… holy smokes… you really went there?”

Silver burst out laughing, clutching hard to the railing as Gilda hid her face deeper into her claws, her feathers ruffling. After a few seconds Silver lifted his hoof, licked it, and tallied the score in the air before him. Through trained ears, he heard a soft chuckle rise from Gilda, too, but their fun was cut short when Gorn, followed by a stern looking pegasus mare, came to the gangplank of the ship.

“Doctor, madam, it be most generous of ye to help us. I swear, nary ‘ave I seen a finer example of doctorin’ before in-”

“You don’t have to butter me up, Gorn,” the doctor interrupted. “It’s my job, so just take me to him and we’ll get this over with.”

As the two walked onto the deck Silver and Gilda stared, following as they made their way to the captain’s cabin. Gorn pressed his claw against the door before turning to the doctor. “Now, I warn ye, he’s been sick for a bit, see? Doubt he, uh, rightfully looks ‘imself.”

“Gorn, I’m busy.” The doctor’s face was cold and grim. “Open it.”

Gorn gave a shaky sigh, darting his eyes to Silver before pushing through into the cabin. The room was dark, with thick curtains blocking out the brilliant midday sun. At the far end of the room, in a small bed, a blanketed shape breathed raggedly. The doctor wasted no time in lugging her bag under a wing and trotting over to the bed. Gorn shifted himself in front of the door as the doctor began to pull the sheet down and, once fully revealed, gave a piercing yell, dropping her bag and almost joining it on the floor. She stumbled back, whipping around to face Gorn, Silver and Gilda.

“What… what is this?!” She almost shouted.

“I-I told ye he wasn’t… um, a pleasant sight.” Gorn said through a wide, awkward smile.

“He’s a changeling!”

“Well, aye, but-”

“No ‘buts’! You’re harboring an enemy of Equestria. As a doctor in Her Majesty’s royal navy, I have no choice but to turn him in.”

“No!” Silver shouted. “You can’t, he’s going to die without you.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, unless you forgot what happened in Canterlot.”

Silver had only heard stories from Gorn and Gilda about the invasion, how the changeling queen usurped Princess Cadence’s position and took control of the city. In the moment, though, Silver could only look to the wheezing Darrox. “I know, okay? I know what happened.”

“Then you know why I have to do this, now get out o-”

“No!” Silver stepped to the doctor and met her firm gaze. “I was a soldier. I know better than anypony how important it is to keep Equestria safe, but look at him. He’s weak, he’s dying, and there’s nothing in your job description that says you can just leave him to suffer like he is. He’s not going anywhere. He’s not hurting anypony.”

“We have our orders, son, if I-”

“I had my orders, too. I was stationed on the northern border when the yaks broke through. They demolished everything in sight, but I was ordered to sit back so we could slaughter them at full strength. I didn’t want to see ponies’ homes destroyed, but I also didn’t want another bloodbath. I defied my orders so that I could save everypony, not just our own.”

“That’s crap,” the doctor spouted. “You would’ve been discharged... court marshaled at the least, given disciplinary service for that stunt.”

“Why do you think I’m here?”

This brought the doctor’s outrage to a halt. She looked Silver over, then turned to Darrox.

“Look,” Silver said, softening his voice. “If you want money we can give it to you. If you want to berate us and call us traitors that’s fine, too. Just… just help him. Please.”

Moments passed in the dark cabin, with only Darrox’s ragged breathing to break the silence. The doctor, shifting in place, reached down to pick her bag up from the floor. She turned to Silver again. “Did it work?”

“What?” Silver asked.

“Those yaks. I heard about the attack while I was on shore leave. Did you get them to stop.”

“Yeah,” Silver said plainly. “I did.”

“Then I’ll help,” the doctor said through a sigh. “But! This never leaves this room, and I never see any of you again, got it?”

Silver and Gorn nodded furiously as the doctor turned to Darrox. She kneeled down and fully removed the sheet. Darrox lifted his hoof to the doctor’s. “Thank you,” he said in a wet and weary voice.

“Don’t thank me,” she said, rummaging through her bag. “That’s one hell of a kid you’ve got, so thank him.”

Darrox shifted his gaze to Silver and smiled before beckoning him over with a flimsy wave. Silver kneeled down before him. “Where… will you go now?” Darrox asked as the doctor checked his pulse with a stethoscope.

“Well,” Silver began. “I wanted to go home. You’ll be cared for here, nopony here knows me, and… I really want to see my parents.”

Darrox’s face tensed and Silver could sense his discomfort. He placed his hoof to Silver’s, though, and spoke softly. “Then go. Revel in your freedom, my boy. Gorn?”

“Aye, sir?” Gorn called out, rushing to Darrox’s side.

“When I-” Darrox coughed into his hoof, coating it in specks of green blood. “When I am well enough to travel, we must go to Coltistrano.”

“Well, uh, I ‘aven’t the slightest where that is, sir.”

“I will guide you, and once the good doctor is finished I believe this old ship is due for a remodeling.” Darrox shifted to the doctor, who tried to avoid his gaze. Eventually, though, she relented.

“Don’t thank me again, okay?” She said. “I haven’t even gotten the physical exam yet.”

“Can you tell what he’s got?” Silver asked, leaning forward and admiring the doctor’s work.

“Normally, sailors come in with scurvy or influenza, but he’s got a nasty cough. If anything, he’s probably reacting to something differently because he’s a changeling. I’ll know more when I run an exam… and when you stop crowding my space.”

Silver snapped back and stepped away from the doctor. She laughed a bit, waving him away. At this the three left the cabin and returned to the deck. Gorn nodded to Silver before joining the rest of his crew. Silver and Gilda retreated below deck, with Silver gathering what few belongings he had and Gilda finding her own bag before stepping into the hold, filled with dozens of chests, all from the treasure trove they took from the island. Silver reached in and grabbed hooffuls of gold coins and bits, scooping them into a separate bag. Gilda looked puzzled.

“Uh, what’re you doing?” She quizzed.

“Getting stuff together for the trip. Coltistrano is a day or two from here and I have to prepare.”

“You’re not walking, are you,” Gilda gave Silver an incredulous look, “you know there’s a train, right?”

“Well… yeah, but I’ve been gone for a while, now. I’m probably declared dead or something.”

“I doubt the train conductor would recognize you, dweeb.” Gilda said through a coarse laugh.

Silver laughed as well. He placed the money into his saddlebag and crested the top of the stairs with Gilda. They walked together down the gangplank and onto the dock. Silver paused. It was the first time he had set foot in Equestria in six years. He shivered, his fur standing on end as he let the thrill pass through him. Gilda, however, began walking away.

“Well,” she said before giving a limp wave of her claw. “Catch you later, nerd.”

“Wait, you’re leaving? Just like that?” Silver became panicked and followed.

“Well, duh, the job’s over and I got paid. That’s how the freelance thing works.”

“But what about Shield Wall? We have t-”

“Nuh-uh, you have to, not me. I’m perfectly happy finding the nearest semi-clean room and calling it a day.”

“Are you serious? You saw what he did to me. You know what he might do, and you’re okay with that?”

“Y-Yeah, I saw,” Gilda stammered, growing uneasy at the thought of Silver’s scars, “but it’s not my problem, okay? Like… yeah, it sucks, I guess, but I’ve got my own skin to look out for. Besides, it’s not like we’re… friends, or anything.”

“I thought we were,” Silver said somberly.

Gilda stiffened and her feathers ruffled slightly at Silver’s admission. She brought a claw to her face, desperately trying to hide the warm blush she could feel filling her face. Her tail twitched behind her, only adding to her growing embarrassment. “You don’t want me as your friend,” she said, looking through the gaps in her claw.

“Why not? We’ve gotten along great so far.” Silver placed a hoof on Gilda’s shoulder. “Besides, it’s rare to get a laugh for the dumb jokes I make.”

“You don’t get it!” Gilda’s face tensed as she slapped Silver’s hoof away. “I’m a gryphon. I’m big, I’m mean, and I don’t do ponies. The last pony who was my ‘friend’ couldn’t handle it, so I bugged out. I don’t have time for dweeby ponies and their dumb feelings, unless you’re willing to pay my day rate.”

The ambiance of the dock workers silenced, their eyes resting on the arguing duo. Silver stood firm despite his shock. “I’m not going to buy your friendship, Gilda."

“Well, then I guess we’ve got nothing left to talk about.” Gilda stormed away, leaving Silver alone on the harbor and pushing her way through the crowd of workers and sailors. She rounded to the nearest corner, walking into an empty alleyway between two naval offices. She slid to the ground and let out a ragged breath. A stiff breeze brought the scent of salt and caught fish through the narrow pass. In the shade of the alley, Gilda fumbled with her own claws as she fought to loosen the knot in her gut. She was trembling. She curled up to herself in the alley, mumbling. “No friends."

“That’s a pretty lousy rule.”

Gilda shot up and whipped her head around to see Silver standing at the mouth of the alley. “Are you spying on me? Didn’t I tell you to get lost?” Gilda yelled through a shaky voice.

“No, and you didn’t. You bugged out.”

“Just like I said I would,” she said, sliding back to the ground with a sly smile.

“And I won’t accept it.”

“Are you serious?” Gilda glared at Silver. “Don’t you have better things to do, like getting your revenge on some psycho, instead of wasting my time?”

“Yeah, I do, but right now it can wait.” Silver approached, unphased by Gilda’s tensing wings and lowered stance. “I can talk about stopping Shield Wall for as long as I want, but I can’t help Equestria if I can’t even help you.”

“Ha! Then you’re off to a pretty bad start, loser.”

“Only because you’re afraid of getting help.”

“I’m not scared of you!” Gilda’s tension exploded, releasing in a swipe to Silver’s face. He leaned out of the way, pushing the errant limb and throwing Gilda off balance. A quick tap to her back sent her against the wall.

“You don’t have to believe you’re beyond help, Gilda.”

“I don’t need you to fix me!”

“I don’t want to,” he said, dodging another swipe. “You’re as strong and scary as you say you are, but I know you’re hurting. You helped me off that island, so at least let me help you.”

“Stop!” A third swipe came in, faster than the others, slicing along Silver’s exposed chest. Gilda recoiled, her breath calming as she processed what she had done, rushing to Silver. He watched as she took a rag from her own bag and put pressure on his blood-matted fur.

Silver winced a bit, but placed a hoof on Gilda’s shoulder. “Feel better?”

Gilda looked up to see Silver’s grin beaming down on her. She gasped and stammered, trying to find words to express the rush of emotion filling her mind, but elected to slap the fresh wound on Silver’s chest, making him yelp. “If you weren’t so damn forceful I wouldn’t have had to slice you, dweeb.”

“I think ‘forceful’ is your only speed, Gilda.” Silver chucked through the sharp pain. Gilda grumbled, removing the cloth from Silver’s chest before he continued. “I get it if you don’t want to come along, but don’t let yourself be alone. Trust me, I know what it’s like.”

Silver patted Gilda’s shoulder before turning to leave. Her eyes followed him slowly work through the crowd and, with each step, disappear more and more into the sea of strangers. Gilda stood for a moment, frozen in thought of Silver’s words. Her mind floated back to old friends she had left behind, who’s very memory brought an ache to her bones. The sight of his long argent mane began to fade, but Gilda rose to her full height and spread her wings. A powerful flap lifted her above the crowd.

“Hey, dweeb! Duck!” Silver turned just in time to see the speeding gryphon coming in, forcing his belly to the stone street as ponies around them shouted and clambered to the sides, desperately trying to avoid the feathered missile. She clawed the ground and came to a halt. “If I can get a free hit off you when I’m wild and stupid, then you won’t last a second against whatever weirdos you’re messing with.”

“Does that mean you’re coming along?” Silver said dusting himself off. Gilda rolled her eyes.

“It means I have to watch over your stupid flank, make sure you get to your folks in one piece. Now come on.”

The two walked side-by-side to the town center, beginning their preparations for the journey to Coltistrano. Gilda maintained a grumpy expression, but Silver almost bounced in his step, hardly hiding his excitement to be going home. The train whistle blared in the distance.

“How is it?” Gilda said to Silver, motioning to the now clotted cut.

“It’s better,” he replied, giving the most consoling smile he could. “I’ve had worse.”

Silver had only known Gilda for a few weeks. The return voyage on the Tornado had given him enough time to become chummy with the hodge-podge crew Gorn captained, but Gilda was different, the way she would pull away from the crew and disappear during mess. The rare chances he was able to find her and wrench a conversation out of her, she was distant. Now was different. Gilda sat across from him in the rumbling train car, next to the doffed saddlebags full of their supplies. Her eyes darted from Silver’s face, to the wound, then to the window beside her when it was obvious Silver looked at her. This was something Silver hadn’t seen.

Gilda almost seemed bashful. She was distant, but never outright shy, and the softened tone she spoke with filled Silver with a little sense of victory. Just a bit, though. Silver’s time as a guard taught him the tough ones don’t play ‘show-and-tell’ with their emotions. The rattling of the tracks had become all too invasive, and Silver felt the urge to break the silence. “Have you ever been to Coltistrano?”

“Eh, kinda,” Gilda replied, her eyes glued to the passing scenery outside. “Kind of a dump, from what I remember, but I’ve been to a lot of places.”

“You must not have gotten a good look, then,” Silver leaned back, relaxed. “I grew up there. It’s quaint, yeah, but it’s the best place in Equestria, for sure.”

“Uh-huh, right, better than Ponyville.”

“Why’s that?”

Gilda didn’t respond, instead electing to maintain her watch on the canvas of nature outside the train, the orange glow of the late day sky its background. The rattling dominated the cabin once again.

“Where all have you been?” Silver piped up.

“All over, I guess,” Gilda began. “Las Pegasus, Griffish Isles, Manehatten, just to name a few. There are some nastier places, too, but you’d have no interest in them.”

“Why not?”

“‘Cause they’re bad places, and pretty ponies don’t go to bad places, right?” Gilda teased. “They just hang out in rainbow castles or cities of clouds or-”

“Deserted islands treating mortal wounds?” Silver interjected, giving a smile of his own.

“Fair point,” Gilda returned, smiling. She ceased her teasing and elected to, once again, stare out the window before the blaring train whistle called out. The conductor of the train came through the door of their car and spoke aloud.

“Coltistrano, everypony! Please watch your step getting off. Next stop, Canterlot!”

The ponies in the car didn’t budge, save for Silver and Gilda, gathering their belongings. Through the passing windows Silver looked out upon an unfamiliar town. His pace quickened, passing over Gilda and rushing out to the train platform. When they both hit the worn wood of the platform floor Silver stood with his mouth agape.

“Told ya,” Gilda stated. “Kind of a dump.”

The two began their walk through town. Ponies with matted fur and baggy eyes passed them while others dressed in worn clothing. Buildings and cottages stood dilapidated, with some missing their thatching and marked by colorful symbols. Silver could only stare. The familiar streets he walked as a child now seemed haunted. As they neared the town center they spotted rows of tents and peddlers along the main road, all shouting and bargaining with each other over what paltry amount they had to sell. Coltistrano was derelict.

“This…” Silver whispered. “This isn’t right. What happened?”

“What do you mean?” Gilda replied. “It’s been this way for, like, years.”

“No, no,” Silver said breathily. “I was here seven years ago. There was a festival right there, around the central fountain. T-The buildings were white and clean, and everypony was laughing and dancing. This isn’t right, Gilda, this isn’t my home.”

Silver’s legs began trembling. An alien town invaded the corpse of his home and proved too much for him to take in at once. He bolted, a panicked Gilda following behind as they weaved through the streets and shouted after him. Silver bounded over refuse and past broken homes, his long argent mane and unshorn fetlocks whipping in the wind, until he came to a screeching halt, leaving skid marks along the dusty road. Gilda nearly collided with him and before she could yell she took note of their destination.

“The heck is this?” Gilda shot at Silver, panting.

“It’s home.” Silver trembled as he took a step towards the stoop. The image before him clashed with his memory: a worn and chipped door, once painted a bright verdant green, now rested against and equally faded building, almost grey with age and disrepair. His senses tunneled around the doorway, stepping closer and closer to it. A soft click snapped Silver to his senses and his stomach sank as the door opened. A mare emerged, her chestnut coat dotted with white hairs, her mane in a bun and cutie mark with a brilliant red heart in front of crossed honey dippers, slowly turning to met Silver’s gaze. She froze.

Gilda could only watch the scene unfolding before her. The mare began to shake, her lip quivering. Silver took one last step forward. “Mom?”

Honey trembled. Her eyes darted to the street and back to the pony before her. "No... no, you weren’t real last time and you aren’t real now.”

She trembled. Honey bit her lip and summoned all the strength she could to keep standing. She tried to turn away, but this image of her son was too real, more than an image. Like she could touch it. Silver stood his ground at the foot of the stoop, a soft smile on his face, extending a single hoof to her.

Honey Hearts lost all control. She rushed down the stairs to her home and lunged into the chest of her son, clenching with the strength only an earth pony could muster, sobbing and wailing into Silver’s shoulder. A stream of tears fell from Silver’s face and the two united ponies fell to the ground.

“My boy,” Honey sputtered. “My baby boy! I-I thought… after they returned, they said… th-they…” Honey fell into her son again, the proof of her emotion staining Silver’s worn black jacket. “Where have you been?”

“It’s a long story,” Silver said, cradling Honey’s head in his forelegs. “Where’s dad? There’s a lot I have to tell you.”

Honey’s face turned gaunt as she looked to Silver. More tears fell as she tried to straighten herself, in vain. “Sweetie, there’s…” Honey said, softly. “Come inside. I have a lot to tell you, too.”

Chapter 11: “I’ve been dead for six years”

Honey’s home resembled its owner: worn. It was obvious to the occupants she had tried to keep it presentable, but the large rug showed signs of age, tearing at some of the edges, while the painted walls were chipped in places. Decorations were sparse. Family photos and memories hung on the walls, a reminder of better times. Over by the bay window was a small cabinet, adorned with orchids and lilac in two vases, flanking a framed photo of Silver, Trusty Steed, and Honey.

The rest of the house was small. The transition from the living room to the kitchen was almost non-existent, and the dining room rested somewhere in between, where the three sat. Behind them was a narrow stairwell leading up to the second floor, where Silver remembered the two small bedrooms. It was, after all, where he grew up. He sat at the table, his face in his hooves, while Honey fumbled with a cup of warm tea.

“How long?” Silver said, finally.

“It’s been years,” Honey said. “When you disappeared we couldn’t afford to live in Canterlot anymore. Twilight and Night Light were very kind, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t long after we came home that new gang came in to town. They’re the worst kind of ponies, sweetie, but your father did all he could to keep the townsponies together. Plunder hated him for it.”

“Who?” Silver removed his hooves from his face, his eyes red.

“He’s their leader. It started small, but over the years he’s recruited more desperate ponies to his gang. They work out of the old governor’s mansion out by the cliff. You remember it? Plunder took it for himself when he arrived. Your father tried to get the guards to help, but it was obvious to everypony who was lining their pockets. When it was clear nopony was going to help, Trusty stood up. It… it lasted a good while until…”

“Until they killed him.” Silver bored holes into the table with his gaze. Gilda sat beside him, silently processing their conversation.

“It was horrible, sweetie. They came in the night and dragged him outside. I-I tried to stop them…” Honey’s voice broke. “Th-They did such horrible things to him, and Plunder… he’s so rotten, Silver. The whole Card family came to the funeral, we buried him out… out by…” Honey broke again, falling back into Silver’s embrace. While she sobbed, Gilda fought her own urge to lose her composure.

“Holy smokes,” Gilda said somberly.

“They’ve taken so much from us.” Honey removed herself from Silver’s shoulder, placing her hooves in his. “We’ve tried to contact the Princesses but nopony comes, and they just keep taking and stealing and hurting anypony who stands against them. I… I’ve been alone for almost five years because of them.”

Silver hugged his mother again, helping her from the table and guiding with her upstairs. The sun had long since set and Honey, despite herself, struggled to stay awake in her state. Silver gently pushed open the door to her bedroom, as plain as the rest of the house, and helped her into bed. She looked up to him from the pillow. “Don’t ever leave me again, sweetie.”

Silver leaned down and kissed her forehead. It was all the affirmation she needed to fall into a blissful and weary sleep. Once her breathing calmed Silver moved to leave the room, returning to the ground floor. He stopped at the bay window and stared out to the town.

“H-Hey, uh… I’m bad at this but do you, uh, want to talk?” Gilda shifted in her chair behind him.

“There’s nothing to say, Gilda. My dad is dead.”

“Right...” Gilda scratched her head, unsure of how to proceed. “I guess we’re just taking your mom and leaving in the morning?”

“Not quite.” Silver walked to the front door and reached into his saddlebag. He pulled a piece of scrap black cloth from within and placed it on the table. From seemingly nowhere, Silver produced a knife and cut into the fabric.

“Uh,” Gilda gawked. “What are you doing?”

“Plunder and his goons have been gutting my hometown of its riches for half a decade. I’m going to get even.”

“Whoa whoa whoa whoa, you’re what? Do you have any idea who that Plunder guy even is?”

“Do you?” Silver’s question struck a nerve in Gilda. She began stammering, a clear sign of her brain trying to catch up to Silver’s grim enthusiasm.

“Yeah, I know him," Gilda relented. "He helped get me out of a jam once… b-but I’m not one of them, I swear! He’s crazy, Silver, if you go out there he’ll tear you apart.”

“I have to, Gilda,” Silver finished his slicing, the knife disappearing. “It’s what my dad would’ve wanted.”

“Look, I’m not one to be sappy, but did you hear what your mom said? She’s been alone for years, I don’t think she wants her twerp going off and dying as soon as he came back.”

“I’ve been dead for six years, Gilda,” Silver’s face was stern as he looked to her. “And I might as well stay on that island if I don’t do something.”

Gilda could only stare back in astonishment at Silver’s conviction. She stammered, trying to force her thoughts out, but in the end she only slapped her claw against her face. “Melodrama is so lame,” she sighed. “Look, fine, if you want to go and get killed, be my guest, but you should’ve at least done it before you told her you were alive.”

“I didn’t know you cared,” Silver said, smirking as he played with the fabric.

“I-I don’t, no way, it’s… it’s dumb,” Gilda said through a blush. “You’re just being stupid, that’s all, coming back only to go and get clocked by one of the baddest gangs in Equestria. I would’ve expected that of Gorn, or Steelhorn, or even Rusty, but you’ve got something to live for.”

“Just keep an eye on her, okay?” Silver passed by Gilda and walked up the stairs.

“And if she wakes up, how am I gonna explain her dumb son went suicidal in the night?”

“I’m not going to die.” Silver turned from the top of the stairs to stare at Gilda. “Trust me.”

Gilda said nothing. She only stood in place as Silver crested the stairs and walked into his room. His old room, exactly as he had left it: bed was still half made, with letters and postcards along the wall from members of his family. He walked past the small desk, now covered in thick dust, and the image of Abby's smile within its frame made his jaw tense, averting his eyes from what could be the most painful sight he had seen today. Turning to the window beside his bed he looked out across Coltistrano, reacquainting himself with the lamp lit streets. Across the rooftops he could see the old governor’s house, sparsely lit and a good distance away. Silver looked to the fabric in his hooves.

He had made a mask. Simple, crude, but enough for what he was about to do. He tied the fabric around his face, hiding his ears and tucking in his mane. He reached behind and tucked his tail in and secured his bag before placing his hooves on each side of the window. Silver took a deep breath.

The air rushed past his face as Silver leapt into the night, across the street and onto the adjacent house. Hooves slammed against the thatching before taking off running, leaping between buildings with the rush of street lamps like streaking stars beneath him. Ponies below perked up at the noise, but none could see him camouflaged against the night sky. A shrill cry reached his ears. Following it, he found himself close to the town square, above the sight of three ponies surrounding a mare and colt.

“Just give us the pretty necklace, if you know what’s good for you.” One of the thugs threatened.

“Back off,” the young colt shouted, standing between the thug and who Silver presumed was the colt’s mother. A hoof collided with his face and sent him to the ground. The three thugs closed in around the trembling mother and child. Silver leapt from the rooftop.

A sickening crack rang out as his hooves, all four of them, collided with a thug’s back. The other two spun to meet the sight of a masked assailant standing atop their friend. One, a pegasus, stretched his wings and charged. Silver nimbly rolled underneath the reckless attack and threw a leg out against the other thug’s shin. He yelped in pain before receiving three more strikes along the neck and face. From behind, Silver could hear the grunting of the pegasus and another yell as he charged again. This time Silver, in a display of agility, flipped back over the pegasus before he collided into the other thug. The attack forced the two to tumble out into the square, landing limply along the stone. Silver landed and turned to the two ponies.

“Th-Thank you, sir,” the mother cried out, holding her son’s bruised face.

Silver approached and from a pocket produced a few gold coins and presented then to the mare. “Take these. Get him treated.”

And with that, Silver leapt up onto the wall and climbed to the roof, exhilaration feeding into every nerve of his body. He felt faster, lighter, stronger as his hooves pounded against the rooftops nearing the mansion. After a few minutes he arrived, crouching on the roof as he surveyed the house in the distance.

The mansion was, like many of the buildings in town, worn with age and lack of upkeep. Some of the windows were missing glass and the gardens had been uprooted to make way for storage within the fenced off grounds. Silver did, however, spy a group of ponies walking through the front gate, hauling a tarp-covered cart with them. Instinctively, he reached behind him but found no cape to grab.

“Got to do it the hard way,” he sighed before descending the building, rushing to the stone divider below the fence. He peered over and watched the cart be pulled out behind the mansion, closer to the cliffside. At least six ponies were with it, chattering and laughing amongst themselves as others joined the crowd. Silver crawled along the wall before finding a lone guard keeping watch. He looked up and, when nopony was watching, leapt up to the top of the fence. The noise alerted the lone pony.

“Hey, whatsit-” He struggled, but found himself in Silver's powerful neck lock, gagging and sputtering until his wriggling lost its strength, falling limp. Silver continued deeper into the compound, sticking to the shadows, leaping from crate to barrel to box for cover while following the cart around to the back of the massive house as the ponies began to unload their cargo.

“Lookit,” one of the thieves shouted. “Got another beautiful set of silverware. Any more like this and we’ll have to have ourselves a proper feast.”

“Nuh-uh, not for you.” A second, larger pony snatched the box of silverware from the other. “I filched this. It’s mine!”

“You filched the instruments, I snagged the tablestuffs.”

“Oh no,” a third cried out. “Them brass horns are mine!”

The argument reached its crescendo as it attracted others within the compound. Soon, more than a dozen ponies were bickering over the contents of their latest haul. From above, in a window Silver could not see, a voice rose above the rest. “Hey, quit your bickering,” the voice shouted in an airy, foreign accent. “Nopony gets their share until it is approved by me! Don’t forget what happened to Dewdrop.”

The ponies below grumbled but relented. Silver squinted at the voice, unsure of its origin but almost certain of its identity: Plunder. He gazed up the wall of the mansion. Even in relative disrepair it was far too smooth for him to climb, and peering in through a window Silver found more thugs inside. Looking over to the cart again, Silver noticed a single piece of rope holding the tailgate in place. With a flick of his wrist his hidden knife flew across the courtyard and collided with the rope, setting the tailgate loose and spilling the loot out onto the ground.

“Oi!” The larger pony looked over to another. “What did the boss say about thieving the thievables?”

“I did no such thing, you lummox!” This earned the smaller thug a swift crack on the jaw as the two began furiously beating each other.

Thugs around them began cheering, placing bets on their favorite of the two. Orders from above were barked out in the same accent, sending guards from within the house out to break up the fight, allowing Silver entry within the confusion. The sound of fighting dimmed from inside the building, which was far better maintained. The walls were decorated with pieces of classic art against warm hues of red and gold. The carpet, an immaculately kept scarlet runner, lay against the dark wood floors. Silver stepped carefully and made his way up the central staircase.

The symmetry of the house made it easy to navigate as Silver walked through the second floor to the main study, and the source of the voice. From within, though, he heard rustling before the door burst open with the chime of magic, forcing Silver to leap into an adjacent room. Plunder, who Silver could barely see, grumbled to himself as he stamped through the hallway toward the central staircase. Silver listened for a moment longer and, when he was certain the coast was clear, made his way into the main study.

“Sweet Celestia…” Silver whispered. The study was littered in display stands of artifacts and valuable treasures. The walls, also adorned with artwork, were layered with gold leaf in a swirling pattern. In the corner of the room, opposite the large desk and bar cart, sat a heaping pile of money. Silver grit his teeth at the sight of such avarice but pressed on to the desk.

The shouting outside came to a stop, replaced by Plunder’s berating of his recruits. Silver paid it no mind as he searched. Stacks of papers and journals filled Plunders’ desk, also of exquisite design, detailing transactions made with black market buyers and stolen inventory. One book caught Silver’s attention: a red ledger, plain and sturdy, with the word ‘Colleagues’ on the front in unassuming font. Just the first few pages made Silver’s stomach tighten as he stashed the ledger in his bag and made his way out of the study. As he opened the door, though, Silver found himself face to face with a pony he recognized immediately. Ice blue coat, sleek mane, and certainly the source of such a smooth voice.

“Hello there.” Silver said, shooting a grin to Serenade. “Enjoying your alias, ‘Plunder’?”

“Who are you? How did you get in here?” Serenade demanded.

“Let’s ask ourselves the real questions,” Silver said, backing up. “Like, ‘How many tic marks can I fit on the wall of my cell?’”

“Quit your prattling. Intruder!” Serenade shouted out before Silver snapped his hoof across his cheek.

Serenade closed the distance between them, flailing his hooves down upon Silver. His strikes proved more of a nuisance as Silver deflected them and kicked out Serenade’s legs, sending him tumbling to the ground as he released a bolt of magic, whizzing past Silver’s face and through the window. When Serenade recoverd, though, a pair of gloved hooves found purchase on his shoulders.

No surface of the study was safe from the onslaught Silver unleashed on Serenade. His speed and strength were far too much for the crime lord, who resorted to hurling the pieces of art and treasures at his assailant with magic. Silver weaved through the hail of priceless works, closing the distance and landing a solid uppercut to Serenade’s jaw, sending him flying over the desk, until the doors burst open.

“Boss!” A haggard pegasus yelled into the room, out of breath. “We’ve got a problem, some pony in a mask jumped us at the town squ-”

His voice died, laying eyes upon the very pony who brutalized him and his friends, and who now turned his gaze to door. Without a word he slowly closed the doors before him, keeping a straight face, his hoofsteps heard rushing down the hallway. Serenade groaned and stood, the chime of his magic encompassing the desk and lifting it off the floor. Silver whipped around just in time to see the mass of wood fly straight for him. He rolled underneath, the desk crashing against the far wall, before recovering and meeting Serenade’s weary gaze.

“What is it you want, eh,” Serenade probed, backing up against the gilded wall. “Money? Mares? I can get you both. I can get you anything.”

“Anything?” Silver returned, coolly.

“O-Of course, sir,” Serenade gave a shaky smile. “I have powerful friends. If you spare me I-I am certain we could accommodate a pony of your skills.”

“You mean your friends in Canterlot?”

Serenade's blood went cold. “H-How do you know about that? Nopony is supposed to know.”

“Oops.” Silver said coldly, taking a step forward.

“Please,” Serenade begged. “P-Please, I can find you anything. Anything! Look around you, you see? Please! Please, what do you want?!”

Silver lunged forward. He grabbed Serenade and spun around before tossing him against the floor. Before he could recover, Serenade found himself again in the masked attacker’s hooves, pressed firmly against the window. The glass creaked and cracked as Silver leaned in close, hot breath seeping out from his bared teeth. “I want my father back.”

The doors burst open again. Thugs and thieves poured into the room, some with weapons, some with magic, surrounding the two as Silver held his gaze on Serenade, trembling in his hooves. From behind him Silver heard the faint chime of magic as a bolt flew from a thug’s horn. He whipped around, bucking the bar cart into the oncoming blast, colliding in an explosion of glass, splinters, and flame. Silver, with Serenade in tow, rode the force of the blast out through the window. The crime lord let out a scream as his horn projected a force field around himself. Silver held tight to his captive, using him as a buffer between himself and the solid ground they crashed upon.

The two rolled away from each other on the rebound. Serenade recovered first, unphased by the landing but frantically looked for a means of escape, trapped by the high fence around the compound and the burning study above. On the cart, though, he spied a knife jabbed into the wood, yanking it from the paneling and, as his attacker was recovering, sent it hurtling towards Silver, tearing into his shoulder. He howled in pain and fell to the ground again, giving Serenade the time he needed to frantically bolt to the front gate and out into the night.

Frightened ponies rushed out of the mansion, some covered in burns and debris. A few, though, found Silver coming to his hooves and lunged at him. Even with the blade stuck in his flesh, Silver's strength was more than enough to beat back the ponies brave enough to fight. He thrashed and kicked at the three surrounding him, lifting one over his back and tossing him against the wooden cart with a loud crack, the others flinching when Silver reached his head around to remove the knife with his teeth. The remaining four charged and were met with powerful blows to their chests, throats, and faces before being tossed aside.

Wounded, panting hard, Silver slid to the ground against the cart, looking out across the courtyard at the ruins of Plunder’s operation as he out a long sigh, the pounding in his chest finally dimming. The fire once raging in the study shrunk to embers, and Silver took this time to pull a bandage from his bag and patch the hole in his shoulder, relishing the gentle breeze sweeping past him from the cliff face. After a moment Silver stood, shakily, limping around the courtyard. Spilt items were picked up and placed back onto the cart before Silver returned to the mansion.

Chapter 12: "That monster has taken too much from me already."

“You said he’d be here, right?” Honey fumbled with her bag. Her voice was shaky and her hooves rushed across the counter as she gathered her few daily necessities.

“I said he left a note,” Gilda replied. “It said to meet him at the town square.”

Gilda examined the note in her claw again. It was a smaller sheet of paper, firm and of an eggshell white color,with a border of thin gold leaf lining that glittered in the light shining through the bay window behind her. It felt smooth between her digits, with a satisfying heft to it’s form. “Jeez, I could buy lunch with this thing,” Gilda muttered.

“It’s not right,” Honey said aloud, rushing past Gilda to the front door, wrapping herself in a dull green shawl. “He shouldn’t have left like that. Did he say where he was going? Was he with somepony? Gilda, why did you let him leave?”

“Hey! It’s not-” Gilda caught herself and took a deep breath. “I don’t know. He ran off to mess with Plunder and his creeps-”

“He what?!” Honey shouted while grabbing Gilda. “We have to go now! I can’t let my boy be taken again!”

With surprising strength, Honey yanked Gilda out through the door and into the street. Morning in Coltistrano was normally relaxed, with ponies either having already gone to work or just coming home from it. Today was different. As Honey bounded through the streets, with Gilda chasing after, they were joined by more and more ponies all following the commotion towards town square until Honey and Gilda came upon a veritable mob forming around the central fountain. Ponies were pushing and shoving to get a better view, with some pegasi hovering overhead. Gilda followed suit and leapt into the air, keeping Honey in sight, and rose until she finally spied the source of the commotion.

“Ok, I have a black and gold saxophone here! Who owns one of these?!”

Gilda’s jaw dropped at the sight. Around the fountain were four carts, piled high with valuables and possessions, conducted by a single pony in black. He commanded a few pegasi in passing the items out to the crowd. In a single motion Gilda swooped down, picked Honey up off her hooves, and flew to the front of the crowd. As they landed a smile came to the leader’s face, leaping off the pile.

“You guys made it!” Silver lunged toward his mother, lifting her in a big hug before moving to Gilda. She tried, half-heartedly, to resist Silver’s embrace as he released her.

“Sweetie,” Honey began, eyes darting from Silver to the carts of valuables. “What’s going on? Where did you get all of this?”

“I finished what dad started.” Silver stood tall, wearing a pleased smirk on his lips. “I ran Plunder out of town.”

“You what?!” Honey and Gilda gasped in unison.

“I went to the mansion last night and broke in. Everything here is something his gang stole from a pony in Coltistrano, so I took it all back.”

Honey Hearts tried to keep her lip from trembling. She slapped Silver’s shoulder, causing him to wince at the pain. She slapped again and again until tears fell from her face.

“You stupid, stupid, brave boy. I thought you were gone again.” Honey ended her barrage with a powerful hug.

“So he’s gone? You didn’t find him?” Gilda asked, astonishment on her face.

“No. I looked everywhere for him, from the mansion grounds to the train station. My guess is he’s run back to Canterlot.” Silver waved up to an orange pegasus. “Hey Peach, I need you to take over from here, okay?”

Peach gave a firm salute, floating down to the cart as she began rummaging. Silver lead Gilda and Honey out of the crowd and down the street to a small cafe. They sat around a table before Silver spoke, placing a red ledger between them. “While I was there I found this. I’ve been flipping through it all night. It’s a detailed account of all transactions made between Plunder’s gang and a third party in Canterlot. My guess is it’s Shield Wall and whatever crowd he’s built around himself.”

“Wait, Shield Wall?” Honey asked. “You mean your commanding officer? I know he sent you to that awful island, but working with criminals like this?”

“Plunder was there the day I was abandoned in the ocean. His real name is Serenade. I don’t know what for, but this ledger says Shield Wall requested an eight-pony squad from Serenade four days ago, all heading for Canterlot.”

“Yeah, but what could he do with them?” Gilda questioned. “It’s not like he could assassinate Celestia or something.”

“He’s tried it before.”

Gilda shot Silver a surprised look. Honey, however, merely closed her eyes and began shaking her head. “No. I can’t do this, Silver, I won’t let you put yourself in danger again.”

“I don’t have a choice mom. You saw what he did you me, what he’s done to our home.”

“Sweetie, I buried both you and your father in a year,” Honey stated firmly. “I don’t want to bury you twice.”

“You won’t, mom,” Silver reached out for Honey’s hooves. “I promise, but I have to get back at him. For Shining and Abby and for everypony he lied to. His goons killed dad, mom. I can’t let that pass.”

Honey said nothing. She stared at her hooves in her son’s, squeezing them softly as a few moments of silence fell upon the trio at the table. The sounds of cheering from the crowd began to dim as ponies and families walked teary-eyed from the town square. A unicorn mare, red fur and with delicate pink mane, came to their table. “Ms. Hearts? Are you okay?”

“Oh, yes, Lily, I’m fine.” Honey wiped stray tears from her face as Lily turned her attention to Silver.

“You must be Silver. I’m Lily,” she raised a hoof, which Silver bumped lightly. “You might not remember me, but your mom and I worked together before you went out to Canterlot. Did you really get all of that back yourself?”

“Regrettably,” Silver nodded, chuckling as he clutched his bandaged shoulder.

“Ms. Hearts always said such wonderful things about you. Well, minus all the embarrassing stories.” This brightened Honey’s face, who smiled and giggled as Silver blushed hard.

“Don’t worry, sweetie,” Honey said. “They weren’t the most embarrassing.”

“Mom.” Silver groaned. Gilda chuckled herself, shooting a wicked grin at Silver that drew more of his blush to his face. Lily walked to Silver.

“Thank you. Thank you for everything you’ve done. Nopony’s fought back against Plunder like that, not since Trusty was taken. We all miss your dad, and I’m so glad you turned out like him.”

With that, Lily gave Honey a hug before walking down the street. Silver turned to his mother, whose smile had yet to fade. They stared at each other before Honey gave a long sigh and hunched over the table. “Fine, fine. You’re right, and I’m not the only one Shield Wall’s hurt, but please be careful.”

Silver looked past his mother, out across the sky, as a wide smile came to his face. He stood from the table and walked out into the street. “Don’t worry,” he said without averting his gaze. “I have friends.”

Gilda’s eagle-like pupils narrowed in the direction Silver was looking before she, too, stood up from amazement. Honey turned around in time to see a large shape forming in the sky. It was ovoid, colored a dull purple, and was coming in closer, descending toward the cliff side with a sharp turn before Silver could make out the shape of a ship underneath the purple mass. He and Gilda shared a look, smiling, recognizing the shape of the Tornado attached to a large balloon. Silver, Gilda, and Honey all ran off to meet the flying vessel at the cliff edge of town.

“Weigh anchors an’ secure tethers,” they heard Gorn shout. As they peered up towards the deck of the airship, Silver noticed a second figure next to the captain. In a bound, Silver cleared the remaining distance between the ground and the ship, coming face to face with a weary Darrox.

“You’re alright!” Silver embraced his mentor just as the ship touched down.

“Yes, yes, my boy, though I still require breath to function,” Darrox chuckled. Silver released him from the hold. Gilda and Honey both stepped aboard before the latter was pulled forward by Silver.

“Mom, I want you to meet somepony,” Silver lead Honey across the deck. “This is Darrox, I met him on the island. He’s the one who pulled me from the ocean.”

Darrox gave a soft smile to Honey. Though Silver expected his mother to be shocked by the sight of an undisguised changeling, she stared straight into Darrox’s face with an almost piercing gaze, to the point where he began to squirm with uncertainty. “You saved my boy?” She asked firmly.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You took care of him?”

“Of course.”

Honey took Darrox’s black hoof in her own. She held it firmly and shook, earning a sigh of relief from Darrox and he returned the gesture. “Thank you. It’s the most you could’ve done for a mother.”

“It has been a pleasure, I assure you. Your son has thrived over the years we were trapped on that island and has only been somewhat of a headache.” Darrox gave a soft staccato laugh. “I am to presume he has told you?”

“Yes,” Honey replied. “That monster has taken too much from me already. If you’re going to stop him then I need you to promise you’ll look after my son.”

“Silver is more than capable to fend for-”

“Promise me.” Darrox was taken aback by Honey’s persistence. She stared him down, reducing the once legendary hero to stuttering mess. To his surprise he felt a heat rise to his ears, but felt an even greater warmth from within Honey, a warmth he had not felt in many years: love.

“I promise,” he finally replied, giving the most sincere smile he could muster.

Honey sighed and turned to Gilda. “Gilda, thank you for helping bring him back to me. I don’t have the means to repay you, any of you, but I thank you anyway.”

“I-It was nothing, really,” she said before Honey wrapped her in a warm, soft embrace. Gilda hugged back, unknowingly, almost losing herself in the display of gratitude, feathers ruffling as Honey broke the hug and left her with a smile.

Darrox hobbled to Silver. “Now, tell me, what is that commotion in the city center?”

“Oh, that,” Silver said, smiling a bit. “I found Serenade. He’s now one of Shield Wall’s associates and has been running a criminal underground out of Coltistrano. Their compound was in the governor’s mansion, over there.”

“Fascinating,” Darrox rubbed his chin. “Is he still there?”

“No, he skipped town. After I infiltrated the mansion, though, I found a ledger full of info. We fought before-”

“You fought him?” Darrox stood perplexed. “You fought him and he escaped?”

“Yeah,” Silver replied. “I know it’s not ideal, but now we know they’re working together. They’ve been recruiting, Darrox, and if we find him-”

“If you had waited we would not need to find him,” Darrox interrupted. “Do not become overzealous. You must be patient, instead.”

“I’ve been patient for six years,” Silver’s voice rose. “Serenade had been stealing from these ponies for who knows how long and ruining their lives. I had to do something.”

“I do not fault your intentions, my boy, only your enthusiasm. Remember-”

“They killed my father, Darrox!”

Darrox’s mouth snapped shut, with Silver breathing hard and the eyes of the deck upon them. The tension soon left his face, leaving only a solemn expression. “I’m sorry, Darrox, you’re right. If I had-”

“No, forgive my haste,” Darrox stated. “I did not know the stakes. Knowing that, I am more proud you didn’t take your revenge in blood than I am disappointed. What all have you learned?”

Darrox lead Silver to the other side of the deck, away from the group. The two sat on the wooden floor as Silver produced the ledger. “It’s a list of transactions and correspondence,” he began. “Serenade has been running a criminal operation out of Coltistrano for almost six years. It started with smuggling, but soon turned to black market trading and mercenary work. They… they killed my dad when he stood up to them. Since then, they’ve been sending shipments to Canterlot in the form of money and recruits. A bunch of shady stuff, Darrox, and the last entry says Serenade sent a group of his worst up that way, but doesn’t say why.”

“It is very possible Serenade does not know. If he is in league with Shield Wall, as this ledger suggests, then he has become a mere puppet to use. Not an equal.”

“One way or another, though, we have to get to Canterlot. I don’t want to imagine what Shield Wall would do with a band of mercenaries like these.”

“Neither do I.” Darrox turned toward the center of the deck. “Gorn. How long of a trip to Canterlot?”

“A few hours, sir,” Gorn shouted from above. “Best ye expect a night voyage, though, us bein’ an unregistered airship now, an’ all.”

“Unfortunate. That will give Serenade enough time to warn Shield Wall of this interference.” Darrox turned back to Silver. “But it gives us plenty of time to deduce the nature of his plan… and say farewell for now.” Darrox nudged his head over to Honey Hearts. Silver made a double take, darting his vision between his mentor and his mother.

“It has been years, my boy, I would not dare fault you a reunion.”

Silver could only smile. He stood and patted Darrox’s shoulder before running back to Honey. Darrox, though, turned his attention back to the ledger. His expression soured. “What have you planned this time?”

Chapter 13: “Morality does not staunch wounds”

Hooves clapped against the fluffy, powdery form of clouds as a smokey grey pegasus struck them with mighty blows. He darted through the sky, piercing every cloud within sight until warm beams of sunlight stretched down to the city below, unhindered. Shops and vendors were packed with ponies and tourists all taking advantage of the sales for the Grand Galloping Gala. Streets were lined with ponies all the way to the palace grounds, where servants and cleaning staff doubled up to ensure the castle was prepared for the coming festivities. The royal garden was given extra special attention as florists and groundskeepers trimmed the beds with delicate care. In one of the gazebos, at a small table adorned with tea cups, sat two ponies.

“Out of your entire department, how many ponies would you say you supervise?”

“Nearly forty, who supervise another eight-hundred.”

“Impressive, and what of them? Do you have an outline of command?”

“It has been provided with all my other documentation.”

“Oh, wonderful. Next question: where did you get such a tasteful cravat?”

Shield Wall winced slightly at the question. He had been sitting in the royal gardens for nearly two hours, enduring a constant stream of questions from Rarity, not all of which had to do with his department or the armed forces. Instead, Rarity found room in her questionnaire to critique his personal attire. He could feel his composure slipping like butter on ice. “It was a gift,” he said, forcing the same weary smile he had all day.

“Well, it’s lovely, sir. Truly brings out your eyes.” Rarity turned her attention to the parchment before her, scribbling notes upon it as Shield looked on.

“Thank you, madam,” Shield said through gritted teeth. “Though I must say, I am not the least bit surprised a unicorn like yourself has such taste.”

“Flatterer,” Rarity said with a giggle. “You should be careful with such compliments, sir. I hear you are rather close to Countess Glow, is that right?”

“The countess experienced tragedy, madam. I hardly think you, of all ponies, would fault me for being a friend.”

“Oh, of course not. I read the story years ago. Dreadful, truly. Now,” Rarity leaned forward across the table. “Tell me what, exactly, you do for the EUP Guard.”

“Well, that is a big question,” Shield began, straightening himself. “As one of four vice generals, I am responsible for advising the warmaster on all things regarding military engagement to recruitment numbers. I, specifically, work with the magistrate office with matters of internal affairs.”

“Very much like what you’re experiencing now?”

“Yes,” Shield winced. “I suppose so, but I am held to a very high standard of rectitude. My efforts are usually directed towards the lower ranks and smart-mouthed recruits.” Shield hovered his tea cup to his mouth.

“Do you enjoy it?”

The liquid caught in Shield’s throat in response to the question. He tensed, quelling all bodily reactions as he painfully drank the tea down. The cup gently landed on its saucer as Shield spoke. “Pardon?”

“Do you enjoy it?” Rarity repeated, a subtle shift in her expression. “Your work, I mean. Protecting Equestria is such an important job, you simply must derive some satisfaction from it.”

“My service is payment enough, madam,” he said, projecting the most genuine smile he was capable of.

“Of course,” she hummed. Her quill scratched against the parchment, seemingly of its own accord. Try as he might, Shield Wall was unable to make out the writing from the other side.

“If that is all, Miss Rarity, I do have other responsibilities. Hard to have a good review if I miss my duties.” Shield Wall tried to laugh at the statement, but his patience was draining.

“Oh, of course, silly me,” Rarity said through a chuckle. “Nopony more than I knows the importance of punctuality. Are you off to meet your friend, Magistrate Gavel?”

“I… would hardly call us friends,” Shield said. “We work together, yes, as I oversee the disciplinary measures of soldiers, but we are more respected colleagues.”

“Oh, forgive me, the way you rushed to him during the princesses’ meeting must’ve given me the wrong impression.” Rarity scribbled again.

“There was much to do that day,” Shield Wall explained. “The meeting had already interrupted our morning routines. You understand.”

“Of course,” Rarity hummed again. Her quill continued to write, the sound of which dug into Shield Wall’s brain. His jaw clenched as he stood from the table and extended a hoof to Rarity, grasping it as she stood.

“I will be sure to send any other inquiries to your office,” Rarity stated, a self-satisfied grin upon her face.

“I eagerly await.” Shield gave one last half-hearted smile before turning away. His pace was swift, trying to keep some level of dignity as he passed over the threshold between the gardens and the castle proper. Once inside, and away from Rarity, a familiar pounding grew in his mind.

There was a tightness. His brain throbbed with masochistic force, fueled by a cascade of dark thoughts. Shield’s mind wandered back to Silver Spade, the only other pony he had ever held such enmity toward, and how he could remove Rarity in a similar way. The memory of the Compassion came to him, mingling with the crack of the rope and the sickening tear of flesh. He grinned.

His trance broke at the familiar sight of an unguarded door. Shield took a breath, a deep one, to help summon what amount of calm he could before pushing the door open, revealing the sight of ponies gathered around the table. As Shield walked to the front of the table, though, he noticed two very odd things: across from Midnight Gavel was Serenade, adorned in bruises and cuts, and the inescapable silence lingering over them.

“Chatty today.” Shield huffed, taking his seat.

“Quite.” Midnight rose from his seat, looking out over the table. “The nobility present would like to make a collective statement. Their missive came this morning and-”

“Why was I not informed?” Shield interrupted, pulling his eyes from Serenade’s beaten shape.

“You were indisposed.” Shield Wall’s breath hitched at Midnight’s words but he kept his eyes forward, giving a long sigh before scanning the crowd. Those who were military sat firmly in their seats, unphased by their fellow conspirators’ nervous squirming. They were ponies Shield knew would follow him. The rest, however, avoided his gaze as it passed over them. Only one locked eyes with him, and the bespectacled pony stood from his seat, never once averting his eyes.

“The time has come we discussed this game, Mr. Wall.” Fancy Pants spoke with a loud, firm tone. “It has been four years since you proposed your plans for Griffonstone, and in that time you have accomplished barely a fraction of what you promised. Secure borders, political reform, and, most egregiously, your twisted model of peace and unity throughout Equestria. How much longer do you plan to keep this table waiting?”

“As long as it takes,” Shield snapped. “You have been given recruitment and spending reports as you requested. Do not expect sweeping change to happen overnight.”

“We expect results, Mr. Wall, not to watch you burn through our money on frivolous endeavors.”

“Don’t make such claims, Pants,” Vice General Stratos yelled. “Victory in the political theater is half the battle in war, you can’t rush it.”

“Rush it?” Pants scoffed at her words. “Madam, the princesses secured that ‘theater’ only a few days ago, with nothing but words.”

“This allows us greater opportunity to move our influence,” Stratos spat back. “Even if we aren’t public, the government still agrees with us. We need greater security.”

“To do so is treason!” The ponies surrounding Pants shouted their approval.

“It isn’t treason to fight for your nation’s safety, by any means necessary!” The soldiers let out a bellowing ‘oorah’.

“If we have such resources then we must share them with the princesses,” Pants shouted over the raucous. “Surely, they will find a suitable use for us that is both effective and legal.”

“The princesses are tied by those same laws, you dolt,” Stratos shot back. “Even Princess Luna, who has the stones to make the hard choices, is still held to that standard. Change comes faster if we work outside of the law.”

“The princesses will have us hanged. We need their wisdom.”

“We can’t stain the princesses image with our actions. What we’re doing is selfless.”

“It’s treason!”

“It’s justice!”

“QUIET!”

The room shook at Shield Wall’s bellowing yell, everypony whipping their heads around to see the seething unicorn at the head of the table. Midnight reached a hoof out to his shoulder, but it was forcefully swatted away as the pounding grew in Shield Wall’s head. “I am exhausted hearing how the princesses want Equestria to be governed! Look at the state of our nation! Our national security is entrusted to a rag-tag group of hooligans with magical jewelry, lead by some nopony who was made a princess on a whim!” Fancy Pants raised his hoof to speak before another furious glare from Shield Wall scared him back to silence.

“We need order. We need control. What we do not need is some senile old bat with absolute power traipsing about Equestria, putting power into the hooves of ingrates who do not deserve it! It is wrong. She is wrong!”

Ponies sat with their mouths agape at Shield Wall’s fervent declaration, his voice still ringing in their ears, with tears forming in the eyes of some. Stratos strained to keep her composure at her colleagues words and stared at the table. Fancy Pants, however, stood firm in his place at the table.

“You lack faith, sir,” Fancy stated.

“And you lack a spine.” Shield's words dripped with venom.

“Our faith in the rule of the Two Sisters has never lead us astray. Don’t forget it was that ‘nopony’ who defeated Tirek and saved Eque-”

“The country was conquered completely before she even knew what to do!” Shield spat back at Fancy, with Midnight uselessly gesturing to keep his friend calm. “There were multiple instances, in broad daylight, when Tirek attacked that would have been stopped by a tighter security force. But because Celestia lacks vision, we are left vulnerable.”

“How dare you, sir! To speak ill of Princess Celestia is not only disrespectful but simply un-Equestrian.”

“And you think clinging to some thousand year old relic out of convenience will keep you safe?”

“It will keep my spirit clean, unlike the filth I find myself in whenever I am forced through those doors by your threats and blackmail.”

The room glared at Shield Wall. He grinded his teeth, lips twitching into the shape of a snarl as he rose from his chair. Fancy Pant’s expression changed from stalwart to sunken as the vice general stood to his full height, a cold, slow tone drifting from Shield Wall’s voice.

“I have been fighting this fight since before you even earned that ridiculous monocle. Everything you see before you: the money, the influence, the power, all of it has been built up because of what I have done. Do not criticize me with your morality. Morality does not staunch wounds.” Shield shifted his attention from Fancy Pants, now trembling in his seat, to the rest of the nobles gathered at the table. “Would you rather suffer crisis after crisis, year after year, for the sake of morality? Or would you rather do what must be done for the sake of our safety?”

Eyes shifted between each other as the nobility squirmed in their seats, as if looking for an answer. Fancy sat stiff in his seat. Stratos, however, turned to her subordinates, their stern expressions meeting hers. She looked to the other nobles at the table. Where once she saw faces of determination, of righteousness, she saw only fear. All, that is, except Shield Wall, standing at the head of the table, glaring down his muzzle at them all. At her.

“What is this about, Shield Wall?” Stratos asked, calmly.

“Service and protection for Equestr-”

“No,” she interrupted, now staring at the fellow vice general. “What’s in it for you?”

“Is it not enough that I wish to see my nation safe? Must I also need some grand scheme in place?”

“This table is proof of that,” Stratos stated, gesturing to the nobles. “I won’t fault you for undesirable tactics. That’s war, but Pants has a point. We’ve been supporting you and your mission for years now, and we are no closer to war with Griffonstone than we were back then. Now you tell us the problem isn’t with our borders, its with our leadership. The leadership, the same we’ve had for over a thousand years. They question your effectiveness, but I question your loyalty.”

“Are you backing out?” Shield almost whispered, glaring straight into Stratos’ face.

“I want to guide Equestria to a safer future and to get justice for our troops, just like I told Countess Glow I would, but I don’t want to force a regime upon the ponies I’m sworn to protect, especially not against the princesses I serve.” She stood from the table, her subordinates in tow. Together, they marched in formation toward the door as Stratos placed a hoof upon it. She turned back to the crowd behind her. “I won’t tell anypony about this, for your safety, but I won’t be yanked around any longer by somepony who doesn’t value the things that make us Equestrian.”

“Need I remind you,” Midnight piped up before Stratos pushed the door open. “Of the sizeable amounts of money you send to your mistress every month?”

Stratos froze. Her subordinates all turned to the chief magistrate wearing shocked expressions. Stratos turned and stared Gavel down. “What did you say?” Her brow tensed at the words.

“I’m sure your family, your husband especially, would love to hear about all the ways you two have fun. It must be lovely to have somepony for both home and the road.”

“You snooping, ungrateful, little bug!”

“Careful, Vice General,” Shield said. “Mr. Gavel is simply doing as I instructed. That is, digging up the dirty secrets of everypony at this table. Walk away and I will tell everypony who will listen all about the compromising positions you find yourself in with your mistress.”

“You bluff,” said another, a tall earth pony in a top hat beside Fancy Pants. “To truly breach the privacy of everypony here is a massive undertaking, yet you act as if you know everything about us.”

“And you act as if you had not renounced your son,” Midnight shot back. “Lemon Twist, was it? Or did you have him change his name, as well.” The earth pony brought a hoof to his mouth. All around the table ponies squirmed under the invisible pressure the head conspirators placed upon them.

“Make no mistake,” Shield Wall began. “Each one of you has something damaging to hide. Pull your support now and I will release this wealth of knowledge to every newspaper of every town across all Equestria. If you will not fear for your nation, then you will fear for your reputation.”

“Buck my reputation!” Stratos shouted from the other end of the table, catching Shield Wall off guard as he snapped his attention to her. She stood tall, wings flaring, her jaw firm. “I don’t give a diamond dog’s ass whether you tell the world or not. Everything I’ve heard today tells me your main goal has never been about protecting Equestria, it’s about seizing power and being a bully. Well, I’m not going to play any part in your madness. If you tattle on us, then we tattle on you, and this whole little extortion racket goes down in flames, Wall, with you as the kindling.”

A low rumble of voices began to swell into a full-on verbal assault. From around the table, nobles and other ponies began hurling their own declarations and insults at Shield Wall. They laughed, cursed, and hollered as a single mob before turning toward Stratos and following her out of the door. Fancy Pants shot a final, smug grin at Shield before slamming the door shut. The room was now empty, save the three ponies. Gavel sat in shock at the display, looking back and forth between his co-conspirators. Shield Wall, however, slowly returned to his seat.

“Serenade,” he said, coolly. “I trust there is a reason you are here in such a sorry state.”

Serenade shook from his surprise and sat forward to meet his employer. He cleared his throat, bringing on a painful cough before he was able to speak. “Yes, there has been something of an… issue back in Coltistrano.”

“Is it the kind that can be dragged through town and beaten to death?” Shield Wall held his cold, vacant expression.

“W-Well, yes, I suppose it is, but… I, uh, we were run out of town. A pony came in the night and ransacked the governor’s mansion there. The recruits did what they-” A field of magic clamped down around Serenade’s muzzle. In an instant Shield Wall’s face pressed against his, the cold expression replaced with pure vexation.

“Forgive me,” Shield said, squeezing the magic harder. “I must have misheard you. Did you say a single pony? As in just one?!”

A string of muffled words tried to escape Serenade’s compressed mouth, a blush forming from lack of air. Finally, Shield released his magic as Serenade fell to the ground, coughing from the sudden rush of air. “Yes, yes it was just one,” Serenade coughed a final time. “He came for me, to root me out and destroy our operation, but you should have seen him. He was graceful, powerful, I have never seen such a fighter in my life.”

“Was he a guard?” Shield asked, tensing his brow.

“No, of course not. They did not train us like that, even in the 22nd.”

“Perhaps an agent from the Crystal Empire?” Midnight suggested. “Our push into the north has met resistance. It’s possible Princess Cadence has finally noticed.”

“Crystal Empire scout parties are three ponies, minimum,” Shield replied. “Did he say anything? Anything about his motivations or mission?”

“Well, I had tried to make a deal with him… to distract him, of course! When I did, though, he wanted nothing... only for his father back.”

“And did you kill his father?” Midnight groaned, his face sinking into his hooves.

“To be fair, Mr. Gavel, I have killed many fathers, and this is not the first son to seek vengeance,” Serenade snickered at the thought. “But none, not one, had been so effective as to eliminate a dozen of my henchponies and raid my home in a single night. All while wearing a mask, no less.”

Shield’s eyes shot open at this. The pounding in his head stopped, leaving only a slight tingle in his chest, fluttering throughout his limbs. He didn’t turn to Serenade but locked eyes with Gavel. “Did he…” Shield Wall paused for breath. “Did he wear a cape?”

“Pardon?” Serenade shot Shield Wall an incredulous look, who spun to face him.

“A cape, you buffoon! A mask, billowing cloak, slipping in and out of the night like a…” Shield Wall paused, simply mouthing the next word to himself.

“Nothing of the sort,” Serenade returned, hesitantly. “Sweet Celestia, who would even be caught dead wearing such a gaudy ensemble. He wore cloth over his face and covered his cutie mark, nothing more.”

Midnight kept his eyes on his friend, straining for any sign of instability. He knew exactly what Shield Wall was thinking. Midnight stood and walked to the others and placed a hoof on Shield’s shoulder. “This has been a less-than ideal day, for all of us,” he said, keeping his eyes on Shield. “What we should do is regroup and formulate a plan for how best to proceed. Our sudden lack of support will make things difficult moving forward.”

“I cannot return to Coltistrano,” Serenade stated. “Now that I’ve been run out, the ponies there will be united again. Where are my agents, Mr. Wall? I sent them to you days ago.”

“They are here,” he replied, coming out of his trance. “And they will remain here until I am done with them.”

“What could you possibly need them for now?” Midnight stepped in front of Shield, next to Serenade. “The support is gone and the gala in two days. We hardly have the time to run any sort of operation.”

“They will serve the same function I had when I ordered them: to maintain our support.” Serenade and Gavel looked between each other, then back to Shield.

“Shield, in case you were not present for today’s meeting, our support has already left.”

Shield Wall pushed through the two ponies and marched to the door. With a bright flash of magic they flew open, smacking against the walls and leaving small dents from the impact.

“If they will not fear for their reputation, they will fear me.”

Chapter 15: “Not everypony’s inside matches the outside.”

Brilliant sunlight ebbed through the windows of the second-floor bedroom. It was small, smaller than she was used to. Plain walls were hidden behind seas of sketches and designs, adorning the room like hurricane of inspiration, with the one safe haven a single vanity. Here, the seated pony gave a dainty yawn before her face was beset by a score of delicate brushes. She dragged the dark brush across her eyelashes, patted her cheeks and dark bags beneath her eyes, with little puffs of fragrance as the finishing touch. Then came the important part.

Violet curls parted with a soft hum. A meditative moment, to feel the small bristles scratch and massage her scalp, pulling the strands of her mane into order with each stroke. Her mouth opened with each pass to count the strokes in a soft whisper while all thought seemed to drain from her. All, it would seem, except her excursion from the night before.

Another yawn, stronger than before, scrunched her muzzle as proof of a sleepless night before standing from the vanity, discarding the brush and walking the short distance to a small work desk. Gentle glows of magic pushed aside sketches of gowns and accessories in favor of a small, purple, felt-covered notebook. A blue aura pulled the cover open to reveal pages upon pages of neat writing, flipping to the next blank space. A steaming cup of tea floated to her from the vanity as a knock came from the door. “Rarity? Are you awake?”

“Oh, yes,” she said mid-gulp. “Come in. Do you need something, Sassy?”

Sassy poked her fiery orange mane through the door. ““I wanted to be sure you were awake. You’ve been in here since yesterday afternoon. Are you alright?”

“Of course, darling, pay it no mind. Just a late night’s work, is all. You understand?”

“Right, right, of course. Finishing touches on the gala gown, right?”

Rarity’s eyes turned to a particularly busy corner of the room, littered with spare needles and spools of thread in an almost ritualistic fashion around a single ponnequin smothered in fabric and lace, barely held together by pins. Sassy looked at the mess with a certain excitement, but only Rarity had the perception to know there wasn’t much of a dress present beneath the chaos. “O-Oh, yes. Yes, and it shall be fabulous.” Rarity gave a worried smile.

“You’re so lucky to have been invited. Well, when you’re available, there are customers on the floor.” With that, Sassy stepped out of the doorway. Rarity looked back to the mound of fabric and sighed before focusing on the notebook again. A quill rose from the inkwell and touched the paper.

Last night was, perhaps, the most mysterious event of my investigation to date. Since the day Princess Celestia staged her impromptu meeting I have sensed something foul ahoof, and I'm pleased to report my fear of malpractice has alleviated with each pony I've interviewed. Everypony from the administration down to the castle staff seem to possess a near-spotless record. That is, until I met with Vice General Shield Wall.

He’s a well-to-do unicorn. Tall, broad, aged a bit, but still quite impressionable and very proper. Though my suspicious come not from his demeanor but from his words and actions. He has a special relationship with Chief Magistrate Midnight Gavel but I cannot fathom the connection. He’s hiding something. I followed my suspicions last night to Shield Wall’s office. Surely, I don’t need to tell you the penalties for invading an Equestrian official's professional dwellings, but the princess called on me to find corruption and I simply cannot let her down.

But then the strangest thing happened. As I searched the office for clues, some horrid phantasm ripped through the air and out into the night. With Celestia as my witness, I had never been more frightened in my life! Though, of course, it couldn’t have been a real spectre. I suspect I may not be the only one investigating the vice general. Perhaps-

“Rarity?” Sassy called from behind the door. “There’s a group out here that needs help, can you tend to them?”

“Coming!” Rarity replied in a sing-song tone before returning to the paper.

Perhaps they know something I don’t. If only I could find them.

In a flash she shut the notebook, sipped the last of her tea, and trotted toward the door and out onto the boutique floor. All around her stood ponnequins proudly dressed in her latest designs for customers to witness while she strode to the staircase and surveyed the main floor of the shop, where she spied the group in question. They were bickering as she came down the stairs and up behind them.

“... have no accounting for taste,” said the turquoise-maned stallion. “You are to look presentable, now focus.”

“I want to look like a pony, not some pompous ass.”

“Please, my boy, the mules are quite a humble group.”

“You’re both morons.”

“Anything I can help you with?” Rarity interjected.

The trio all turned to meet who addressed them. The older, pale-green pony smiled and gave a slight bow. The gryphon made a double take, hiding her head behind a wing while aimlessly admiring the clothing. The third, however, caught Rarity’s eye. He was tall, dressed in simple and stained black garb. Silvery grey locks fell past his shoulders and down his neck, and his fetlocks, too, dragged behind his hooves a good inch or two. He looked rugged, untamed, and almost feral in appearance. To Rarity, he was an utter disaster.

“My stars!” Rarity gasped. “Darling, what happened to you?! What sort of dark power kept you in this sorry state? Your mane, your tail and… goodness! Sassy!”

“Yes?” Sassy head poked up as she came striding out from behind the front counter, making a beeline for her hysterical employer.

“Sassy, oh, thank goodness. Please, take care of these two while I help this poor soul find himself underneath all that oppressive filth. Please, sir, this way.”

Silver shot a worried glance to his friends, his only rescue a smug smile from Darrox’s disguised face as Rarity pulled him through the store and out the front door, with the bell above the door the last sound Silver heard before being thrust out into the midday sun, forced down the street by the frantic unicorn behind him. Despite his attempts to bargain with the unicorn, her determined pace only made him walk faster

“Ma’am, I really don’t think-”

“Nonsense,” Rarity blurted out. “There is a stylish pony beneath that ghastly exterior. I just need to find him.”

“But where are...?” Not a second after Silver asked did a large shape come into view. Its neighbor's were minuscule compared to the hulking, intricate building adorned with gilded streaks curling up its spire and carved silhouettes of mares with long, flowing manes and tails in various poses. Ponies strode in and out of the building, those leaving looking remarkably pristine and radiant. Silver read the words “Elite Equine” before a firm aroma of lavender and eucalyptus hit his senses. “Oh no…”

Try as he might, Rarity’s magic and resolve were too much for Silver to resist as he was all but shoved through the front doors. Rarity stepped out from behind him and went to the front desk. “Scissors! Waterfall! We have a spa emergency,” Rarity stated. “I need mud facials, trimming, salt baths, the works… and I suppose I could go for a massage myself.”

The two blue-toned earth ponies behind the counter wasted no time in scooping Silver up by his forelegs and bringing him past the lobby curtains. Beyond the threshold, smells of every kind of flower he could recognize assaulted Silver's senses as he traveled the large work floor, past stations devoted to every discipline imaginable. The looks of relief shared on each pony’s face helped Silver relax a bit, enough for Scissors and Waterfall to bring him to a private room in the back without more squirming. Until he saw their implements. Scrub brushes, ointments, razors. Silver had stumbled into a posh torture chamber of rejuvenation as Rarity followed from behind and stood in the doorway.

“There, now don’t worry one bit about the cost, darling. I’ve gone ahead and placed it on my tab, so all you need to do is relax and let the professionals do their work.”

“Wow,” Silver said. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Rarity,” she stated softly. “Please, call me ‘Rarity’.”

Scissors and Waterfall came up behind Silver and pulled him to the cushioned table in the middle of the room. After offering him a glass of cucumber water Waterfall began to help Silver out of his ragged clothing. Waterfall, though, lurched back as Silver removed the jacket, spilling the pitcher of water across the floor.

Silver’s gaze went from the shocked pony to one of his many reflections staring back at him. His scars were pronounced, standing out boldly against his white coat as a twisted pattern of flesh. Scrambling hooves searched for his jacket and slung it over his back as he froze in place. Scissors and Waterfall stood back, but Rarity approached.

“Are you alright? It doesn’t hurt, does it?”

“No!” Silver blurted out. “No, I… it doesn’t. Just don’t like seeing it, is all.”

Rarity’s face softened. As Silver stood with his eyes to the floor she waved the two masseuses to her. Rarity extended a hoof to Silver who, after shifting in place for a moment, received it and was helped onto the table. The two began their work, producing shears and brushes as they started on Silver’s hind legs. Rarity climbed onto the second table while Scissors began her ministrations on Rarity’s form. Still, Rarity’s eyes stayed fixed on Silver as her magic pulled the jacket from his back, causing him to flinch. He yanked it back on.

“You can show me,” she said. “Nopony here will judge you for it.” Silver gave no noticeable response, instead electing to remain still. Rarity pulled one again, without resistance, as it fell onto the floor. Her breath hitched at the criss-cross of wounds, following the trail of skin from his flank all the way to his neck. Without thinking she reached out a hoof, connecting with the scars and tracing their path.

“Not all of that ‘oppressive filth’ washes off,” Silver finally said. He held his gaze in front of him, his body stiff. After a moment he was moved onto his belly as Waterfall focused on the rest of his form, deftly moving his hooves around the scars.

“You say that like they need to be removed,” Rarity returned, beginning to melt into the table from her massage.

“Isn’t that what this place is for? Removing imperfections?” Silver replied without looking.

“Oh, please. Hair and cuticles can all be straightened out or pushed back. Makeup covers blemishes and rashes, or even patchy coats, but those are all temporary. That’s far more maintenance than true beauty.”

Silver's dour expression was soon betrayed by a smile. “Aw, you think I’m beautiful.”

“Well, you certainly weren’t presentable when you entered my shop, but yes, you are.” Rarity's words made him tense again. He whipped his head to the side expecting to see her on the verge of laughing, the long buld up to a cruel punchline, but instead her head merely rest on a pillow as she stared off in front of her. “Beauty is my career, darling," she continued. "It’s what pays the bills. As such, I’ve learned that the surface of a pony, the thing we all see, is often very misleading. Like a shiny apple, you can’t always tell if the core has rotted.”

“I think I’ve heard that one before,” Silver said, chuckling.

“I must hear it at least once a month,” Rarity giggled. “But that is my point. Everypony has beauty in them, it’s just not everypony’s inside matches the outside.”

“And that’s why you drag strangers on unannounced spa trips?”

Rarity chuckled and sank deeper into her cushion. “Strangers are simply friends you haven’t made yet... and please, you need this.”

A loud rap of cracking echoed in the room, causing Silver to wince as the sudden rush in his spine. Waterfall then smoothed out Silver’s back, moving his hooves to the hips before making a sudden, yet gentle tug. Another crack rang out. “Gah! My name’s not ‘Glowstick’, dude.”

Rarity let out a giggle at another yelp from Silver. “Oh, stop complaining, you love it. What is you name?” Silver’s eyes shot to Rarity’s. Even as he was rolled over he still, worriedly, held eye contact. “Surely you wouldn’t want me to start calling you ‘Glowstick’, would you?”

He didn’t return Rarity’s laugh. As Waterfall began sliding the shears through Silver’s mane he sat with a growing knot in his stomach. Rarity had been kind, thus far, but trust was another thing. The thought of his identity reaching Shield Wall ruled his mind, but still, he had never met Rarity before. She, to his knowledge, had no part in his fight, no stake in Shield Wall’s defeat or the Ghost’s dealings.

“Silver…” he whispered, fighting a nervous stutter. “My name is Silver.”

“An appropriate name. Are you from Canterlot?”

“No,” Silver replied. “But I can tell you aren’t, either.”

“Oh, truly?” Rarity wore a playful smile. “And why, grand sleuth, would you suspect that?”

“Well, you did drag the dirty flank of some strange ruffian halfway across town.” Silver adopted his snobbiest impression of nobility, tilting his muzzle up a bit. “Most well-to-do ponies wouldn’t be caught dead helping such filth.”

A loud chortle rose from Rarity, bringing a hoof to her mouth. She seemed to infect the spa ponies and Silver himself with her jubilance as the room filled with smiles and chuckling. Rarity’s own laughter finally died down as she let out a contented sigh. “Yes, I do apologize for my, um, outburst. I can become quite excitable.”

“No,” Silver replied in mock surprise and placing a hoof to his heart.

“Why, when I first met Twilight, you should have seen how I reacted to her mane. To my credit, it was positively atrocious. More like a wasp’s hive than a mane.”

“You know Twilight?”

“Oh, of course, and she’s been a wonderful friend for years, now. I can scarcely believe it myself. Though, she could stand to get out more often, always cooped up in that castle-” Rarity snapped her hoof to her mouth. “Oh, excuse me, it’s not best to say such things about a princess. Slips my mind sometimes.”

With the shears whittling away at his mane, Silver admired the unicorn in silence. This moment, amidst the rush of exposure and relief of laughter, clouded his mind with something almost foreign. Something Silver struggled to remember.

Peace.

Claws tapped against her beak, leaning lethargically against the wall of the boutique as Darrox rummaged through racks of suits and formal wear. The elderly changeling was so deep in concentration he hardly noticed Gilda as she slid down to the floor, the rhythmic clacking of hangers against each other beginning to put her to sleep. Even the bustle of other ponies in the shop did nothing to keep Gilda from drifting off as her eyes closed. Relaxation washed over her as her impromptu blanket of wings and feathers enveloped her, before something whipped across her beak. She shot up, eyes trained on Darrox whose tail returned to his side.

“What was that for?!”

“You were falling asleep,” he said, attention still on the suit rack. “There is much to learn from this, you should pay attention.”

“Like what? It’s about as boring as going shopping with your dad. Why am I even here?”

“Because we need you to be here.”

“For what, moral support?” Gilda huffed and returned to her spot on the floor, ignoring the stares her loud voice attracted. “I thought you and Silver were supposed to be doing the hero thing, not me.”

“Yes, yes, this is true, but believe me when I say your presence is needed.” Darrox removed a red blazer from the rack and brought it to a mirror, sizing it up. “The gala is tomorrow and there is much we need to do.”

“Like…?” Gilda drew out, trying to pry an answer from Darrox.

“Have you not figured it out, yet?” Darrox looked to Gilda, bewildered. She shot him another, more annoyed glare. “I see. Forgive me, it has been a while since I last worked with a group. To put it simply, Gilda, you will be accompanying us to the gala tomorrow night and we will need you to look as splendid as possible.”

A blush crossed Gilda’s face and her feathers ruffled. She stared at Darrox, hoping to see his mouth curl and give a laugh, anything to show he was joking. He gave no sign. “Y-You’re serious?” Gilda stood. “Like, ‘serious’ serious?”

“Well, of course. You are young, lovely, and are perfect to play the part needed for our charade. My only regret is so many of these dresses are fitted for ponies and not gryphons.”

Gilda's face grew warm. Of all the places she saw herself going in life never, under any circumstances, did she ever think rubbing shoulders with the elite would be one of them. Darrox continued talking but his words went unheard. Gilda, instead, moved to the mirror and stared into it, finding within visions of the ballroom and a long and flowing gown, her wings adorned with gold leaf that sparkled with light. This unfamiliar warmth spread through her as she took in the sight. As she watched her reflection she could see the smallest hint of a smile before she was brought out of her trance by the ringing of the shop’s bell.

“... unlike anything I had ever experienced. Such a mean-spirited mare, keeping those ponies locked up in that village… oh, thank you.” Rarity crossed the threshold of her boutique, Silver holding open the door. Gilda watched as the two strode across the showroom floor as she took notice of Silver. His coat was a much purer white than this morning, and the silvery hairs of his mane were swept back and controlled. A small bag rested over the smooth, purple robe he was wearing, as well as sporting a gentle smile.

“Though I must say,” Rarity muttered. “Scissors and Waterfall made quite the transformation with you. I dare say you’re somewhat acceptable, now.”

“I should hope so,” Silver stated. “Parts of your ‘treatment’ felt like torture. Remind me again why they let fish eat my hooves?”

“Oh, stop being a foal, you were giggling the whole time.”

Darrox watched the two ponies converse with each other. He smiled at the sight, having been years since he had seen such kindness. On his chest he could feel his hidden chitin shift around itself and he knew the swirl of color was growing. It was a warm feeling, one that electrified his being and spread through all his extremities. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted the fiery mane of the other unicorn approaching him. “Have you made a selection? I’d be happy to fetch something from the back if you’re having trouble.”

“Oh, no need, madam,” Darrox presented the red blazer. “I was curious of you had something similar to this, but longer and a bit more grand. Gilda, have you made a selection?”

Darrox turned his eyes to Gilda, who was busy thumbing a lighter amethyst gown. Every now and then she would raise it to her chest and admire it in the mirror. From the side of the mirror the image of Sassy came into view, snapping Gilda from her ruminations. “I think that’s a lovely choice, it goes very well with your fringe.”

“U-Uh, yeah… yeah, well, they’re making me do it and this one looks passable, I guess, so…”

“It’s alright,” Sassy giggled. “You’ll look great in it. Let me find one in your size.” Gilda tried to keep her feathers down, but a few rebels managed to ruffle up despite her best attempts before joining Darrox and Silver.

“Had I known I could receive a more presentable apprentice by turning in my old one to the madam here, I would have done it days ago.” Darrox chided Silver, who swatted his prodding hoof away.

“As if anypony else would be crazy enough to join up with you, the looks are just extra. What about the clothes?”

“Miss Sassy is handling it for us. I dare say, with the proper attire and some wit, we may just pull our little scheme off.”

“Right,” Gilda piped up. “Which you’ve barely told us anything about.”

“Yes, yes, I am aware but I assure you, once we have a sizable wig for Silver and select a proper contingent from the crew, all will be made clear.”

“Wait,” Silver mumbled, bewildered. “A wig?”

“Yes, of course, we simply cannot display your true visage for high society to see, can we? Now, go thank the lovely shopkeeper for getting you cleaned up and meet us outside.”

Shaking off his bewilderment, Silver made his way to the front counter, where Rarity fiddled with trinkets and accessories on the surrounding shelves. She paid him no mind, absorbed in her efforts to organize every item by color and equal placement. Silver rubbed the back of his head and stammered a bit under his breath before finally summoning the courage to speak. “Rarity?”

“Hmm? Oh! I’m so sorry, you were saying?”

“I… I wanted to thank you for dragging me across town and cleaning me up.” Silver said through a soft chuckle. “I’ve never had anypony do that before.”

“Think nothing of it, it was the least I could do to make you look your best.”

“Judging by what you’ve told me I believe it.”

Rarity let out a light giggle as his remark. She closed the distance between them, leaving Silver to fight off a growing blush across his face. “You know, whatever those marks are from, hiding them won’t make them disappear. Everypony is beautiful in their own way, including you.”

“O-Oh, uh, wow… um,” Silver stammered, the blush claiming victory. “You really live up to your name, huh?”

“A lady can try.” With that, Rarity turned to the stairs, flicking her tail the slightest amount before ascending.

From below, Silver watched the white unicorn climb up and stride across the top level, sneaking a final glance at him before his green companion called out. Silver turned and made his way out of the boutique with Darrox and Gilda, the bags of clothing hefted on their backs. Rarity’s eyes followed as they exited before continuing on to her room. She entered, closed the door, and returned to the notebook still sitting on her desk. A quill lifted up beside her and glided over to an empty page, dating a new entry.

It appears there is never a dull moment, even when not investigating a conspiracy. The most peculiar trio entered my Canterlot Carousel today. When Sassy first called me down to greet them I expected nothing more than another clueless client in need of a makeover, but it could not have been further from the truth. An impeccably polite unicorn who seemed far older than he appeared; an almost brutish gryphon who, for the life of me, I can’t shake the feeling of deja vu; and veritable feral-pony with the most ghastly appearance I had seen in years. Of course, being the generous soul I am, I graciously offered him a trip to the ‘Elite Equine’ spa for some much needed grooming. He agreed, but not without some stiff convincing.

I am perturbed, though. Call it my overworked suspicions, but I cannot shake the feeling there is something more to them. Anypony with a trained eye could tell they were out of place. I, however, find it beyond coincidental such peculiar individuals would arrive at such a peculiar time in my investigation. Are they spies? Perhaps enemy agents? I would like to believe they’re simply an eccentric group looking for a new style, but my gut tells me ‘no’. No, there must be something more to them, especially Silver, the unkempt one. He is reserved, polite and self-conscious, but I’ve been around enough noble facades to see something below the surface. The cascade of scars along his back is dreadful, for sure, but they serve as a clever distraction from his athletic frame. Not excessive like Bulk from Ponyville, but more lithe, and I would dare say he seems built for combat. It cannot be coincidence, and apparently there is far more to this case than I first suspected. I must proceed with caution. Maybe a night at the gala will alleviate some of my fears.

Or, perhaps, confirm them.

Chapter 16: “Now presenting, for the first time at the Grand Galloping Gala”

A sense of electricity drifted through the air as Canterlot came alive with the sounds of bustling crowds and rattling carriages, all headed for a mutual destination. In the sky, the groups of ponies could witness a show of swirling stars above the castle, glittering against the moonlight as they formed a brilliant arc. Several ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ could be heard from those entering the palace grounds. From the entrance to the palace walls, to the gardens and the ballroom, every inch of the Royal Palace was transformed into an immaculate display of extravagance and grace, with hallways decked in banners of swirling colors to match the theme of tonight’s event: Unity.

Guards stood firm at the entrance to the palace, staring down the crowds, before a single streak of fire and sparks shot up from one of the castle towers. It burst, letting loose a cascade of light and streaks in the shape of heart, signaling the guards. They took their cue and pushed open the towering gold doors as the horde of ponies made their way into the lobby. There, at the top of the grand staircase, stood the royal tetrarchy. Princess Celestia stepped forward, draped in a flowing raiment of white and shimmering gold.

“Fillies and gentlecolts, I welcome you all to this year’s Grand Galloping Gala!”

A chorus of cheers rose up from the crowd of ponies. Princess Luna, adorned in a tight gown that glittered like starlight, raised her horn and shot a bolt of magical power into the open air. It burst and rained down over the guests like a brilliant meteor shower. Princess Cadence and Princess Twilight merely smiled and waved at the coming guests, prepared to meet and greet all who wished for the honor. One by one, ponies ascended the stairs and bowed to them before moving out into the castle proper. A smooth and resonant melody began to swell and echo from the ballroom and through the entire building.

After time the crowds began to disperse across the palace, with a large congregation in the ballroom enjoying hor d'oeuvres, music, and good company around the large alicorn statue in the middle.

“Now presenting,” a guard announced into the hall. “Princess Mi Amore Cadenza and Prince Shining Armor of the Crystal Empire.”

The duo, hoof in hoof, walked out to the sound of applause from the gathering ponies. Cadence’s gown flowed from behind her in a train of hearts, a contrast to Shining’s pressed uniform. Compliments and adorations were thrown their way as they walked deeper into the crowd, toward a familiar face standing by the buffet. Shining Armor approached and saluted.

“Vice General,” he said, firmly.

“Oh, at ease, Shining. You’re royalty now.” Shield Wall gave a smile to Shining and patted his shoulder. He moved to offer his hoof to Cadence.

“And Princess, it is always a privilege to see you again. I trust you’re keeping him under control.”

“Oh, of course,” Cadence giggled. “He’s only a problem when we’re invited to weddings. He can be such a crybaby.”

“Cadence,” Shining mumbled to his wife, earning only another giggle in response.

Shield Wall summoned another laugh from within, a genuine one, before looking out across the sea of well-dressed attendants. From across the way he spotted the blue mane of Fancy Pants. The two locked eyes for just a moment, with Fancy giving a huff and tilting his muzzle before turning away. Shield cocked an eyebrow in annoyance before allowing his attention to return to Cadence and Shining.

“Ah, Mr. Gavel,” Shield announced, watching his indigo conspirator trot towards them. “How lovely of you to join us. No longer swamped in litigation, I take it.”

“As you know, vice general, I am always swamped with work. Ah, your majesty!”

Midnight Gavel gave a low bow. Cadence nodded back, permitting him to rise from the floor.

“It’s wonderful to see you, too, Mr. Gavel. Did you receive my message about the border disturbances?”

“Of course, princess, I was reviewing it just this morning.” Shield gave Gavel a knowing look before he continued. “I assure you, we will do all we can to investigate these skirmishes along the Crystal Empire’s borders, but there is still so much going on right now.”

“Don’t suppose you’d be up for a little joint operation, sir?” Shining said to Shield Wall. “Your boys and mine running border security on both sides?”

“Well, as enticing as that sounds I, as well as everypony else, am under an extensive internal review. The fun will have to wait, it seems.”

“Now presenting,” the announcer called out. “Countess Abundant Glow and her escort, Corporal Spearhead.”

Shield Wall turned, faster than the others, to the front door where he watched Abby enter with a copper pegasus around her foreleg. Her mane was wrapped over itself in a large bun of ruby locks, with scant strands falling down along a smooth green gown that trailed behind her. Nobles and other ponies calmly made their acquaintance before Spearhead, true to his name, bored through the crowd and lead Abby to the rest of the group.

“Oh, Abby!” Cadence almost shouted, closing the distance with a hug. “You did come!”

“Well, I couldn’t let you down, Cadence,” Abby replied. “I know it means a lot to you. Hello, Shining.”

“Hi, Abby.” Shining gave a light hug of his own. “And Spearhead, you clean up well for the company dunce.”

“Says the old stooge. I bet you couldn’t even button that coat without the wife helping you.”

“Ahem, that’s royal stooge, to you, corporal.”

Spearhead gave a mock salute to Shining, the childish display bringing a laugh out of everypony present. Everypony, that is, except Shield Wall. His expression, while pleasant, sported a stare that bored holes into Spearhead. He could feel a heat fill his cheeks that spread down his neck and into this chest. The very sight of Spearhead with Abby made his jaw clench, with visions of drowning the pegasus in the punch bowl drifting through his mind. His daydream was broken at the sight of an ice blue pony waving him down from the side. Shield Wall excused himself and trotted over, his face firm as he pushed through the crowd.

“What are you doing here?” Shield Wall whispered.

“I have come to collect my cut,” Serenade whispered back in a seething tone. “This madness you are apart of, this scheme. I want no part of it anymore. You have my underlings, my contacts, now all I want is my money so I can go.”

“You came into the heart of Equestrian high society and risked both your cover and mine just so you could be paid?” Shield spat.

“Yes. Like the others, your secret will follow me to the grave, but I want out.”

The fire that sparked in Shield Wall’s gut was now stoked, spreading through his limbs and threatening to singe his brain with its intensity. He tensed his muscles, stretching out his suit, as he stood tall to retort before the announcer’s voice delayed his wrath.

“Now presenting, for the first time at the Grand Galloping Gala: Lord Aristo du Luna Mer.”

Shield’s rage calmed for a moment to look over the crowd. Serenade, too, took the opportunity to identify the newly announced pony.

From across the crowd, veritably walking over itself to reach the new face, stood a pony they had never seen before. He was young, lithe, and sporting fur of purest white wrapped in a vibrant red tailcoat with gold trim and swirling patterns. His tail, also a marble white, was tied behind him in a braid that came down to his hooves, dancing near his golden horseshoes. Coming down from his head was a glistening stream of white curls that flowed over his shoulders and bobbed with each step he took. He was elegant, sublime, and awe-inspiring to all who looked upon him.

To his side was a grey unicorn, withered with age and far less impactful in his attire. Shield Wall watched as the unicorn, who he guessed was a servant, leaned over to his master and whispered something in his ear. The two then made their way through the crowd, ignoring the many onlookers, and began to sample from the buffet. Shield abandoned Serenade and returned to the group. He nudged Midnight Gavel, snapping him from his trance.

“Who is he?”

“I have absolutely no idea,” Midnight returned. “He… well, he is quite regal, would you agree?”

“Quite...” Shield Wall held his gaze on Aristo. He eyed the earth pony’s grace and obvious standard of dress. He could sense his own reservations about the aristocrat, particularly for his excess, but Shield’s curiosity soon turned into opportunistic desire, and after a moment he found himself walking toward the egregiously fancy pony. Shield Wall broke through the crowd and stood beside Aristo, giving a light but firm cough to announce his presence.

“Your lordship,” he began. “I am Vice General Shield Wall, commander of Her Majesty’s armed for-”

“His lordship will only speak to those he has chosen to speak to,” the grey unicorn spoke up, his muzzle high in the air. They locked eyes and neither seemed willing to budge until a silvery voice rose from behind them.

“Oh, lay off him, Major Dome,” Aristo piped up. He waved his servant away before stepping forward, extending a dainty hoof to Shield Wall. “You were saying?”

“Yes…” Shield Wall drew out, giving the hoof a perplexed look before taking it in his own. “ I command the Equestrian armed forces and am most honored to make your acquaintance.”

“Mhmm, yes, of course you are.” Aristo said with a bright chuckle, smiling at both the vice general and the crowd around him.

“Permit me to ask, your lordship, but I am curious why we have never been graced with your presence before?”

“Yes. A crime, for sure, but I am quite busy overseeing my interests in the northwestern part of the country. Managing my numerous metal and gem mines can be such a bother, I assure you.” Aristo held out a hoof to his right, and was immediately handed a glass of champagne by Major Dome. “I usually have to host my own parties to get any form of excitement. Have you heard of the Aurora Ball, Mr. Wall? It is quite splendid.”

Shield Wall was taken aback by the posh pony before him. Not for his extravagance or obvious affluence, but by the sheer haught he carried himself with. It forced him to grind his teeth. The very thought that an earth pony, regardless of status, could talk down to him in such a manner stoked something dark within Shield Wall.

“I will take your word for it,” Shield replied. “Now, my lordship, might I invite you to converse with my colleagues? I’m certain Princess Cadence would love to meet you.”

“Hmm? Well, I suppose if royalty is involved…”

Aristo clapped his hooves together, immediately summoning Major Dome to his side as he followed Shield Wall through the crowd of ponies. His exterior seemed to shine against the marble floor he strode across as he kept his muzzle high. Within, however, Aristo felt like a slowly unraveling bundle of nerves. He looked to his side to ensure Major Dome was still there. He was. It always surprised him how uncanny his instructor’s disguises were, with every detail, down to the last wrinkle below the eye, accounted for and included with pedantic care. Closing in fast, he could see the group.

“Friends, colleagues,” Shield Wall announced. “Allow me to introduce me newest acquaintance. Lord Aristo.”

“‘Lord Aristo de Luna Mer’,” Aristo interrupted with a laugh. “It is my full title. Surely you would hate for me to call you ‘Vice’ or some such, hm?”

Shield Wall twitched, a wash of embarrassment covering his face as the bright clack of Aristo’s golden hooves pierced his ears and made their way to Cadence.

“Ah, Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, just as lovely as the stories. To think anypony could mistake a changeling’s spell for your beauty is simply ludicrous.” Aristo gave a bow, dipping low to the ground in practiced form, stretching his hoof to her. Cadence giggled at the display and received it.

“Oh my! How refreshing to know somepony can talk to a lady.” She gave a sidelong glance at Shining before his rolling eyes had her erupting into a torrent of giggles.

“Laugh it up, wifey,” Shining said, hiding a smile.

“Ah yes, Prince Shining Armor.” Aristo shifted his attention to the unicorn. “I do say, your reputation precedes you. Quite the storybook hero, from what I hear.”

“It’s just my job, your lordship.” Shining reached out a hoof and took Aristo’s. A jolt of emotion shot through the noble’s body as he fought to keep himself composed.

“But I’m sure guardponies aren’t really your speed, even if they are royalty,” Shining said. “Here, let me introduce you to our friend.”

As the posh pony turned his glance to the side his eyes locked with a pair of sea green orbs. All thought seemed to drain from Aristo’s mind, dribbling down like the ruby hairs that fell from the mare’s head. He had prepared for this moment, knowing full well a mare of status would have to be present at the gala. Yet, despite all his preparation, despite all the fortification he gave to his heart, he crumbled at the sight of those sea green eyes. His muscles screamed at him to lunge forward and take her in his forelegs, to run for the door, to hold her as tight as he could and never let go again. Aristo resisted and merely extended his hoof.

“Charmed,” he said, as Abby reached out.

Abby took the lord’s hoof. Her body was firm and held her graceful pose, but her eyes betrayed her. A rush of heat came from within at the sight of Aristo. She had met many well-to-do stallions at the gala before, and many more outside of it, but she had not prepared for such an encounter. The lord was tall, taller than her, and at this distance she could see a sort of strength hidden beneath the frills. Her gaze landed on his eyes. They glowed like amber. Even covered by makeup and painted to show elegance she could feel the intensity behind them. A ghostly image formed in her vision, but she blinked away the impossible visage. Her breathing became shallow. With a gulp she composed herself and spoke.

“Your lordship, my name is Countess Abundant Glow.”

“And what a grand radiance you must be, countess.” Aristo leaned down and brought his head to her hoof. He feared to kiss it, despite his heart demanding it, and pulled away.

“You are far too kind, my lord.” Abby’s lips betrayed her and formed a smile. “What brings you to Canterlot?”

“Business, of course,” he said. “Bits can scarcely earn themselves, and besides, if would be a shame to miss out on the largest party of the year. What of you, countess?”

“Oh, me? Well, I live in the city as the heiress to my family’s fortune. The House of Glow is descendant from Celestia, herself, and has overseen the city’s welfare. Poverty, education, and the like.”

“Ah, a philanthropist, how suiting,” Aristo chirped, stepping closer. “Perhaps you would be willing to accept donations? The shining jewel of Equestria could always use another polishing.”

“How wonderful, my lord,” Abby said through her growing smile. “That would be most generous. It feels like I have waited ages for somepony with your initiative.”

“And for somepony so caring, I would have waited ages more.”

The room became silent in Abby’s mind. Aristo’s comment seemed to bore into her chest like a knife, twisting and pulling at the nerves within. The alabaster coat, the firm face and eyes, then those words. Those simple, precious words that pulled at Abby’s very core still rang out in her mind, paralyzing her. From the side, Aristo saw Cadence waving over the crowd. She smiled, squinted, then giggled before tugging on her husbands foreleg. The two invaded the space shared by Aristo and Abby.

“Excuse me your lordship, but if I could steal Abby away there is somepony she has to meet.”

‘Oh, of course,” Aristo said, almost wistfully. “It is a party, after all.”

“Come on, Abby, it’s the mare I was telling you about. Rarity! Rarity, we’re coming!”

Abby scarcely noticed being dragged across the ballroom floor, away from the object of her turmoil, as they pushed through the attendees before disappearing entirely into the crowd. Shield Wall watched as the two held their gaze. Now, he could feel every muscle in his body tighten. He felt hot, possessive, and utterly insulted by his new acquaintance’s casual courting. Shield Wall stepped to Aristo’s side, who soon became flanked by Midnight Gavel.

“I say, Mr. Wall,” Aristo finally uttered. “The countess is quite a lovely creature. How did you ever get so lucky?”

“Oh, my lordship, you give me too much credit,” Shield said, forcing a chuckle. “The countess is a friend, nothing more.”

“Hmm, interesting.”

Shield’s humor left him at the comment. He peered over the crowd, following the trail Abby took to leave them. A tingle grew in his gut. Gavel sensed the change in his friend and spoke up before the sensation overtook him.

“My lordship, my name is Chief Magistrate Midnight Gavel. I oversee all dealings of the regional and royal court.”

“Ugh, how positively boring,” Aristo blurted out, waving his hoof as if to make the comment itself go away. “You are a stronger stallion than I to endure such bureaucratic torture.”

“Yes…” Midnight looked to Shield Wall with an incredulous look. Shield, however, returned with a reassuring nod.

“So, tell me, your lordship,” Gavel continued. “What occupies your precious time when not managing your business?”

“Oh, I am so glad you asked!” Aristo said in a chipper tone before straightening himself. “Well, when not overseeing the extraction and sale of my gem stores I find my true passion lies in the arts. Music, painting, and such. A shock, I know, but I have the soul of an artist! Major Dome, remind me again of tomorrow’s schedule?”

“At once,” Major Dome cleared his throat before producing a small, black book. “After the morning toast we are heading to the Canterlot Museum for their display of military antiquity, then to the Silver Frames Silent Auction after lunch. Then-”

“The Silver Frames Silent Auction?” Midnight said, his mouth agape. “She is the premier art dealer in Canterlot. Her collection costs thousands of bits!”

“Oh, I know, sir. I know!” Aristo let out a haughty laugh. “But, truth be told, I seek a new passion. Something adventurous, you understand?”

Shield Wall shot another glance at Midnight. He flagged down a waiter and took three glasses of champagne from the tray, divided among themselves. After a sip he moved closer to Aristo and began to speak, before another voice rang out over the crowd.

“Now presenting, from across the Celestial Sea, Madame Genevieve of the Griffonstone Trading Company, and her entourage.”

The eyes of the the room fell upon the gryphon and her companions. She walked across the floor, shielded by the four ponies in matching tuxedo collars and bow ties. Genevieve, herself, spared no time crossing the ballroom to the h'orderves buffet. Her amethyst gown rippled behind her with each step as her tail swished from side to side. True to her desires, her wings sported gold leaf along the limbs to accent her piercing yellow eyes, no longer covered by the fringe of feathers that now were styled along the side of her head. Aristo found himself almost gawking at the gryphon before a stiff huff from Shield Wall reminded him of his company. He looked away, but snuck another glance and found a thin line of red across her beak. He coughed, straightened himself, and turned his muzzle up.

“A horrid display, would you agree?”

“Excuse me, your lordship?” Shield Wall asked.

“It’s almost treacherous to have such fine ponies in the employ of a foreigner.” Aristo kept his eyes closed, not noticing the look of surprise Shield and Midnight shared. “Why, my businesses make it a point to hire Equestrian only since the yak invasion years ago, not to mention the veritable slew of embarrassments the kingdom has suffered.”

“Oh, I could not agree more,” Shield Wall said, candidly. “To think ponies would sacrifice their own dignity for the sake of foreign coin. It’s embarrassing.”

“Finally! A pony who understands. How are we supposed to follow Princess Twilight’s example of friendship and unity if we keep choosing others over those who deserve it most?”

“As I recall,” Midnight piped up. “Princess Twilight does collaborate with dragons regularly, one of whom even saved the Crystal Empire from King Sombra.”

“Yes, yes, I suppose,” Aristo said, dismissively. “Further proof dragons can be domesticated.”

Shield Wall erupted into raucous laughter. In almost an instant, any hate he held for the young lord seemed evaporate, replaced only with relief. He was joined by Aristo, and their joined jubilance drew the attention of some ponies around them. Midnight, however, merely stood and watched the two, forced to endure the disturbing display as an uneasy tightness swelled within him.

“Domesticated?” Shield said, coming down from his chortling. “Oh, your lordship, you have quite the wit. I believe I have seen all I need to see, would you agree, Gavel?”

“Yes... quite.” Gavel replied hesitantly.

“Your lordship,” Shield Wall began. “Mr. Gavel and I are representatives of an organization dedicated to ensuring safety and security throughout Equestria. Given your unique perspective and… sizable reach, we would like to invite you to-”

“We may need more time to deliberate, your lordship,” Gavel interrupted. “The nature of our work is delicate, you understand.”

Shield Wall shot Gavel any icy glare, one that almost made him recoil at the sight. Aristo, however, stood unphased by the display.

“Would you excuse us?” Shield said before pulling Gavel out of the crowd.

“Of course. Should you need me, I will be staying at the Clocktower Auberge in town. Top floor, behind the clock face.” Aristo gave a final, haughty giggle before the other two faded from sight. Aristo took a long sigh, nearly collapsing in place before Major Dome came to support him.

“Are you alright, my boy?”

“Alright? Alright?! Are you kidding me?” Silver, dropping the act, nearly shouted. “I just had about fifty panic attacks in the span of twenty minutes. I can’t believe you had me dye my tail.”

“You did splendidly. Not only piquing his interest, but apparently driving something of a rift between Shield Wall and Midnight Gavel. I dare say, without Gilda’s display, we may never have had the chance to make such an impression.”

“I feel terrible for doing that,” Silver muttered before snagging a champagne glass from a waiter. “I don’t like using Gilda as race bait. It just feels… dirty.”

“Yes, it does, but without it our plan would have failed. It is the cruel reality of espionage.”

Silver took a sip from the glass and peered over the crowd. Far away, in the corner of the ballroom stood Shield Wall and Gavel, arguing. It was impossible to tell from this distance what they were so heated about, but Silver spied another joining the fray. The ice blue coat of Serenade came into view. Now, the argument only intensified as the three ponies went from agitated to near-violent in a matter of seconds.

“I don’t like waiting,” Silver said, taking another sip. “There are eight trained killers in this crowd, Darrox, and I have no idea where they are.”

“A lesson in surveillance, my boy, look to see who is not enjoying themselves.”

“Do I count?” Silver said, sarcastically.

“Focus. What do you see?”

Silver strained to analyze the crowd through the hordes of ponies. If it wasn’t an eccentric wig like his own or an oversized gown blocking his vision, it was the sheer number of attendees. Despite his best efforts, the only viable targets he found were the wait staff and the bored-stiff guards, both of which he knew had no reason to be having fun.

“Unless we’re expecting murder by crackers and tar tare, I’m not finding anything.”

“Then perhaps another goal. If we can find the target then we may be able to stop the attack altogether.” Darrox’s trained eye watched Shield Wall as he floated a glass to himself. As Darrox’s disguised horn glowed, he cast a second spell, listening in on the conversation across the ballroom.

“... exceptions, understand? Aristo is perfect to keep the plan alive and funded.”

“Forgive me if I am not enthusiastic about another elitist joining our ranks. You are letting your excitement get to your head.”

“Me? What do you think I am, a fool?”

“You could certainly be played for one if this goes south. We have never even heard of this pony before.”

“No, we haven’t,” Shield huffed, “but we are running out of time. We only have so much of the shared accounts left, and when that runs out we are finished. Not to mention if Fancy Pants talks, now that he is emboldened.”

“You know he lacks the nerve.”

“Does he? For all we know he is out there now, spreading the word among every pony he can find. I only set this up because you wouldn’t let me ship his mare away.”

“Set what up?”

Shield Wall stayed silent, giving only a brief glance to his friend. After a moment Gavel’s face shifted from confusion to shock as he stared to Serenade and back to Shield Wall.

“You’re going to… remove him,” he said, choking a bit on the words. “That’s what Serenade’s agents are for.”

“Well, yes, but to be honest I had not known how best to execute it, until a brilliant plan popped into my mind last night. A way to remove a threat to the plan as well as implicate our enemy. And once the princesses are away…”

Darrox followed Shield Wall’s gaze over to the group of alicorns, joined by Shining Armor, as a duo of guards lead the royal tetrarchy out of the ballroom. The doors shut behind them, just as Shield Wall shifted his attention to Fancy Pants, deep in the middle of the crowd, and raised a hoof. Darrox’s heart fell into his gut.

“Silver,” Darrox spun to face his student. “The attack is beginning! That unicorn, with the monocle, is the target. You must hurry!”

Before Silver could respond a loud clanging sound came from the front doors to the ballroom, where two nobles barred the entrance and placed a large glyph on the front. Everypony turned to face the sound, save for six other party goers. They peeled away their disguises, both pony and gryphon, alike, transforming from posh nobility into leather-clad assassins in the blink of an eye, all bearing the symbol of the Kingdom of Griffonstone. Darrox and Silver shared a look, nodding to each other, before Silver drew a deep breath.

“Ah! Bandits! Ruffians!” Aristo shouted with an ear-piercing scream. “Save me, Major Dome! Do your duty and save me!”

Major Dome flipped the panicking aristocrat onto his back and charged for the side door. The elderly unicorn broke through, along with several other ponies, before the assailants could seal the room entirely. Once through, Darrox released Silver and placed him onto the hallway floor. The two split up, Darrox leading the escaped group to safety and Silver bounding up the stairs alone. Silver doffed his extravagant exterior before wrapping himself in dark cloth and rushing off. He pushed past servants and reached one of the ballroom’s balconies just in time to witness the crowd herded together by the mercenaries, with Fancy Pants forced to the ground by one of the assassins.

“Unhoof me, ruffian!” He cried in protest. “Your master wouldn’t dare lay a-”

The assassin landed a solid blow to Fancy’s face, knocking him to the floor with a small spatter of blood. Wearily, he looked up to see Shield Wall, in the back of the room, staring coldly at him.

“In the name of the Kingdom of Griffonstone, and those who reject the rule of the Two Sisters,” the assailant said, raising a hoof over Fancy’s head. “You will serve as an example!”

Shield turned away and snuck through the crowd. He kept his eyes trained for the unmistakable ruby mane of Abundant Glow as he came up behind her. She leapt at his touch, only to be quickly silenced by his hoof over her mouth.

“Countess, we have to get out of here, these mercenaries mean to kill us.”

“Kill us?” She gasped. “But where do we go? The doors have been barred.”

“I know another way. Come, we haven’t much time.”

He pulled on Abby’s forehoof and dragged her away from the scene. They made it only a short distance before Shield Wall’s attention was stolen by a single, hauntingly familiar sound. A crack of wind and a muffled scream echoed through the ballroom as all attendants hushed. Shield Wall craned his neck over the crowd and was met with a sight that chilled him to his core.

A dark figure sat atop the large chandelier. Its black tendrils reached down, wrapped around the head of Fancy Pants’ attacker. He writhed under the oppressive fabric as his movements lost strength and was soon released from its grasp. The ponies gasped and whispered among themselves as the shape floated down from its perch, resting over the beaten Fancy Pants.

“You may want to get out of here,” it said. Fancy wasted no time in coming to his hooves and hobbling away toward the ballroom’s large statue. The other seven closed in around the dark figure.

“This wasn’t part of the job,” a gryphon mercenary said.

“Who cares, he’ll be a bonus,” said another, a pegasus who flared his wings.

“I would listen to your friend,” the cloaked figure announced. “Tomorrow’s wounds won’t be worth the trouble.”

“Holy smokes… it’s the Ghost,” a unicorn announced with a tremor in his voice.

“Is he for real?” The pegasus shot glances to the rest of his allies, all just as confused as he was. He scoffed, took two steps forward, and swung a hoof at the pony.

He nimbly dodged the blow and slapped the pegasus’ head, pushing him to the side. At this, two others joined into the fray, both gryphons and brandishing their sharp talons against him. A flurry of swipes and blows came down upon the pony. Each one, though, glanced off his wispy form before he planted a strike upon one’s beak. The gryphon flew back and crashed upon the polished marble. The other four, as one, dove onto the masked marauder.

With a snap, the dark tendril of his cloak shot up onto the chandelier as he pulled himself into the air. Two of the four collided into each other, leaving the others to recover as the pony came down, spreading the black mass over them. An all out brawl began between the mercenaries and their aggressor. Talons were swiped, magic was thrown, but all fell short of the Ghost’s sheer skill with his unusual weapon.

“Somepony hit him, for goodness’ sake!” An earth pony bellowed before feeling the cloak squeeze around his forelegs.

The Ghost gave a mighty pull and spun around, lifting the mercenary from the floor and sending him hurtling against the table of h'orderves. As quick as the first, another flick of the cloak sent it reaching for the knocked over table. The mercenaries saw their chance and began to wail on the now exposed pony. He maintained his hold on the table, fighting off the assassins with only three legs as he deflected and struck back against them. With a break in the assault, he latched the other end of the cloak to the table and heaved, sending the hunk of ornate wood against the group. Three were struck and sent skidding across the floor with the table along with them. The two who collided with each other, a gryphon and a unicorn, now stood, flanking the lone hero.

“Hold him, I’m going for the target!” The lead pegasus beat his wings hard and bolted toward Fancy Pants, cowering behind the alicorn statue.

All the pegasus met, however, was the cold embrace of the marble floor as tightness formed around his hind leg. He looked back just in time to see the face of his attacker before being launched in the opposite direction of his target. The crowd recoiled at the crashing pegasus, a chorus of applause rising from their hooves.

The final two worked in tandem as they launched an assault against the masked pony. The unicorn opened with a mix of hoofstrikes and magic blasts, while the gryphon went all-in with a flurry of talons. The masked pony wrapped his forehooves in the cloak and danced between the two mercenaries as their strikes came down. One of the gryphon’s talons came through his defense and caught against his ribcage, failing to penetrate the dark cloak. The unicorn, however, found an opening and fired a burst of orange sparks. The masked pony gritted his teeth at the searing pain but stood firm. In a final display of strength, he launched himself forward. His forehooves wrapped around the unicorn, catching his neck and horn, while hind legs wrapped around the gryphon’s midsection, and brought them down onto the floor with a thud and a crack.

He rolled away and scanned the group of defeated degenerates. From the side, he heard a frantic breathing, punctuated by a whimper. The pegasus leader stood before him, and he was not alone.

“Y-You freak,” he spat, shouting over the shoulder of a distraught unicorn mare he held hostage. A unicorn the masked pony recognized as Rarity.

“Let her go,” the Ghost said firmly. “You aren’t killing anypony tonight, so let’s not start with her.”

“Back off!” He wrapped his foreleg around her throat tighter, tousling her violet locks and causing her to gag as he backed up towards the drinks table and side entrance. A loud bang came from the main doors as they buckled.

“The guards will be here any second. If you hurt her-”

“If you come close, I will hurt her!” The pegasus shot a gaze of daggers at his assailant. “Now, I’m getting out of here, and if you or that freaky cape-thing get close I’ll wring her pretty white neck.”

Rarity stared out with pleading eyes.

“Last chance,” the Ghost threatened.

“Buck off.”

In a flash the cloak’s dark tendril reached out past the pegasus. He flinched, just barely maintaining his grip on Rarity before recovering. His eyes followed the cloak back to the pony who cast it as he let out a laugh.

“You missed.”

The masked pony gave a firm tug, retracting the cloak and bringing an enraptured punch bowl with it. The pegasus didn’t even see the glass bowl before it collided against his skull. With a second cast Rarity was wrapped in the dark fabric and pulled to safety. The pegasus collapsed, face first, against the floor for the last time.

“Somepony should lay off the punch,” the vigilante said. “It goes straight to your head.”

Rarity paid no attention to his quip, however, instead snatching him in a crushing embrace. She chanted her ‘thank you’s again and again before looking up into his eyes.

“O-Oh my stars! The flying, and flips, and the… the punch bowl! Y-You… you, sir…”

“Am happy to have been of assistance,” he finished for her, leaving her a blushing, eye-fluttering mess.

“Oooh, my hero.”

Rarity reached up and pressed her lips firmly against those of her savior. The Ghost stood in shock at the sensation, Rarity’s passionate kiss drawing forth a tingling sense of elation from within him. The crowd behind them cheered and hollard their praise as loud as they could. Not a second later, though, the main doors burst open, cracking the magical sigil on its front and allowing guards to spill into the ballroom. They, along with Shining Armor, took formation behind their vice general, who sauntered through the crowd.

“Miss,” the pony said, finally freeing his lips from Rarity’s. “There’s really no need for that.”

“Oh, of course there is,” she swooned, leaning in again. “The beautiful girl always gives her hero a kiss.”

Before their lips connected again, a golden bolt of magic flew just inches above their heads. The masked pony instinctively raised his cloak to shield himself and Rarity before meeting the sight of twelve guards, Shining Armor, and Shield Wall arranged in a firing line.

“Sir, be careful, you almost hit them,” Shining called out to Shield Wall. He ignored the prince, taking a step forward to meet the cloaked hero.

“To think I would live to see the day,” Shield Wall muttered just loud enough to be heard. “The Ghost, in all his glory. Tell me, you old bug, what new face have you taken this time.”

The Ghost held his defensive pose, eyes fixed on the vice general and watching for any sudden move. He leaned over to Rarity and whispered to her.

“You should go back to them, things are about to get ugly.”

Rarity tried to speak but could feel the Ghost’s other hoof pushing her along. Instead, she lunged for his mouth again, planting a firm kiss on his lips before leaning into his ear.

“Canterlot Carousel. Midnight. I can help you.”

She rushed back into the crowd of gala attendees. Once Rarity disappeared into the mass of ponies the Ghost returned his gaze to Shield Wall. The two stared each other down for what seemed like an eternity, the air charged with a tense energy from the two secret rivals.

“The fight’s over, Vice General,” the Ghost spoke up. “Let these ponies go and have your soldiers stand down.”

“Oh, the guests are free to leave whenever they wish, the door is still open. You, on the other hoof, are a fugitive and a masked assailant. I am legally obligated to apprehend you when I am given the chance, and…” Shield wall motioned to the line of guards, all training horns and spears on the Ghost. “That obligation is very strong, right now.”

From behind Shield Wall, along the fringes of the crowd, the Ghost spotted a bundle of red hair. Abby looked out past the line of guards to see the masked hero for herself and the two locked eyes for just a moment. The very sight of her soothed him, enough to come down from the adrenaline-rush of the fight and think. He shifted his sight to Shining.

“Captain,” the Ghost said to him. “Tell your boys to duck.”

Before Shining could ask for clarification, the Ghost whipped around and snapped the cloak upward. The lightning-quick stretch of the fabric slashed the cord holding up the chandelier at the same time Shield Wall fired the first shot of magic. The Ghost bounded underneath the crashing chandelier as it blocked the oncoming fire, before colliding with the floor and shattering into a cloud of dust and glass shards. Guards and guests dropped to the floor to avoid the incoming debris. Shield paid it no mind and attempted to give chase, but made it only a few steps before a second crash came from the window, watching the Ghost’s dark shape slip out into the night.

“Vice General!” Shining shouted after Shield Wall, rushing to his side. “Sir! Sir, are you alright?”

Shield’s eyes stayed fixed on the broken window before him. The other guards walked past him and fanned out, apprehending the beaten mercenaries that littered the ground and hauled them away. For the first time, in what felt like years, there was no pain in Shield Wall’s mind. No violent throbbing, no horrific imaginings, nothing. All the spite and anxiety drained from him, replaced by a sense of weightlessness. Shining Armor’s voice came again.

“Sir,” he said hesitantly. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Shield replied after a moment, a smile forming on his lips. “I’m perfect.”

Chapter 17: “Don’t believe everything Canterlot tells you, darling..."

Silver pulled the mask from his face in a huff. Sweat dripped from his brow and muzzle, his heart beating like a wardrum in his chest as he scanned the streets below, searching for his target. The rooftop he sat on was a ways away from the palace, which shone like a beacon in the night, and far enough to escape the inevitable search parties Shield Wall would send after him. The gala had been arduous for him, the battle even more so, and the memory of meeting all his friends and enemies in one place only made his heart quicken. He didn’t even notice the smile plastered on his face.

A familiar aroma broke Silver from his musings, wafting from a small building only a block away. His stomach growled at the scent of sweet and savory that invaded his senses. It took a moment, but he finally recognized where he had made his perch as he noticed other ponies making their way out of the various doors lining the street, some carrying small boxes and conversing with each other, oblivious to the night’s events. He had landed in Canterlot’s ‘Restaurant Row’, and the very notion reminded him just how hungry the fight had made him. A second growl came, but this time not from Silver.

“Hey, dweeb!” A scratchy voice shouted from behind him.

Silver turned toward the source of the noise and came face to face with the immaculately dressed gryphon from the gala. Gilda, however, also sported a furious expression as she closed the distance between them. Silver raised his hoof, wearily, and waved at her.

“Gilda, woah… how’s it going?”

“Where have you been!” She swatted Silver’s hoof down and glared at him. “You didn’t think to tell me you hadn’t been arrested by General Tightwad before I went looking for you?”

“Well, you could say I… ghosted him.” Silver smirked before the irritated gryphon whipped her claw across his forehead. He let out a pained laugh in response.

“You’re an idiot,” she asserted. “I thought they were putting you in a cage.”

“Aw, you do care,” Silver said, earning a blush from the gryphon. “I like your wings. Very expensive looking.”

“Y-You’re just saying that to get to me.”

“You know me too well,” Silver said before turning back to the street below. Gilda took a moment to recover before walking to his side, careful to protect her dress from the dusty rooftop before resting beside him.

“So… what are we looking for?”

“Despite the will to resist snagging somepony’s to-go box, I picked up Serenade’s trial after escaping the gala. He should be somewhere here.”

“You’re still gunning for this guy? I thought you took care of him back in Coltistrano.”

“I did, but if I get him to talk then I get my life back.”

“Yeah,” Gilda sighed. “If General Tightwad doesn’t kill him first.”

“That’s what I’m trying to avoid. I find him first, then I can keep him safe long enough for a trial.”

“Really?” Gilda turned to look at Silver, a condescending smirk on her face. “You really think they’ll let you even get close to a trial? Wasn’t there something about them controlling the courts?”

“The princesses can overrule the chief magistrate’s decision. Once they see Serenade-”

“Beaten and bruised and held against his will,” Gilda interrupted.

“And his testimony, then they’ll be willing to hear me out.”

“More like ‘wring you out’. I don’t think even the pretty pony princesses are too keen on listening to a masked weirdo who beats ponies up.”

“Well… I mean,” Silver stammered, searching for the right words to combat his growing doubt. “Well, what would you have me do?”

“I don’t know, stop him, I guess? I don’t particularly love Griffonstone, but it’s my home and I don’t want it going to war with Equestria.”

“I will stop him, but my life needs saving, too.”

“Your old life,” Gilda tensed. “The life you left behind six years ago.”

“I didn’t leave it behind!” Silver snapped at Gilda, his muscles tense. “It was taken from me by that monster! Don’t say it like I had a choice!”

“Then why didn’t you tell your marefriend?” Her tone was far calmer, but still firm as the question burrowed in Silver’s mind.

“W-Well, I… it’s not th-... she’s in danger. I can’t risk her knowing I’m back.”

“Even though it’s what you want?”

Silver was speechless. He did want it, he felt it back at the gala when he was finally within reach of Abby. The image of her, now six years older, mingled with the memory of her crying on the balcony, cradled in Cadence’s embrace. It was a bitter emotion, if there ever was one. Gilda could see the change in Silver and gave a long sigh.

“Look,” she said, softly. “I’m bad at the mushy stuff, but you need to hear this. You need to because… well, because I c-care, and it’s your fault that I care. I’m sure Darrox gave you some boring speech about winning your world back, or some crap like that, but Darrox never had a world. He had that cape. You, Silver, you actually had a life, and from the sound of it you had it pretty good until it all went to the dogs. Now you’re roped into this craziness fighting the war of some geezer. I know he means a lot to you, but… maybe he’s wrong.”

“He’s given me so much,” Silver said, finally. “How can he be wrong?”

“Because you didn’t out Shield Wall and his goons when you were standing in front of a princess? Because you didn’t believe your friends and the mare you love would back you up? I don’t know, dude, it just looks like you’re playing by his rules.”

Silence took over the conversation again. Silver held his gaze on the streets below, still searching, but deep in thought. Gilda fumbled her talons over themselves and after a few moments more she scooted closer to Silver then, hesitantly, placed a claw over his hoof.

“Dude, I… ugh, this is so gross… I want you to, you know, be… happy.” The last word came out with an almost painful grunt as a few of Gilda’s feathers ruffled beneath her violet gown. She looked down, avoiding any more emotional investment in her already embarrassing display, before jolting at the sensation of Silver’s other hoof covering her claw.

“You’re right, Gilda,” Silver said, his eyes on their entwined limbs. “You are bad at this.”

She shoved her other claw into Silver’s face as the two laughed. Out of the corner of his eye, though, Silver spotted an ice blue shape coming out of one of the cabarets. He ceased his laughter and watched intently as the pony continued down the street and into one of the alleyways. Silver stood and pulled the mask over his face.

“That’s him. If I can snag him I can get some answers.”

“Still going through with that?” Gilda was met with Silver’s smile as he turned back.

“He’s still valuable, Gilda, and I can use him as leverage against Shield Wall if it comes to that. Head back to the ship, I’ll catch up.”

Gilda’s expression fell until she felt a firmness wrap around her. Her eyes shot open to see Silver hugging her, forelegs wrapped around her fluffy neck and careful not to damage the dress. He pulled away and, with a final smirk, dove off the building and glided into the same alleyway. Gilda watched as he vanished into the darkness before a scream rang out. A laugh burst forth from her before she, too, flapped her wings and flew off in the direction of the harbor.

Rarity twirled a hoof through her mane as she sat beside the door leading out to her boutique’s balcony. Her eyes, forced open by a regular administration of the coffee beside her, followed the skyline of the city as she searched for a single pony. It was a long shot, almost a leap of faith, that the mysterious marauder would answer her summons. Even now, after the rush of emotions had left her, there was still a twisted knot in her chest. The excitement of the gala earlier had done nothing for her nerves as she twirled faster.

From within the cluttered room behind her, beneath a sparkling opal-colored gown, she brought her notebook to her side. Keeping her eyes on the sky a quill rose to a blank page.

Well, I was right. An interrupted night of ceremony and celebration I’m used to and, regretfully, I can say the same for being threatened and accosted like a common damsel. But never, in all my years, would I have expected the display I witnessed tonight. It was exhilarating, harrowing, and positively breathtaking. He was breathtaking. The way he saved Fancy Pants from that cretin, not to mention rescuing yours truly from the grasp of such devilry. Though, this will only complicate my investigation.

A pony standing up for the abused and victimized is all well and good, but I’m not so sure the EUP will respond kindly to the knowledge of a masked hero stalking the streets of Canterlot. They will increase security. They will restrict visiting hours to priority-only meetings. It’s possible that, after all this, my investigation will be put on hold. And to think I kissed him, as if to thank him for making my life even more complicated. Typical Rarity.

What perplexed me most wasn’t the caped pony’s entrance, but actually Vice General Shield Wall’s response to it all. I’m curious if the-

“Miss.”

Rarity jolted at the foreign word entering her bubble of concentration, sending the notebook and quill into the air and scrambled to stay upright. Two tendrils reached out from the edge of the balcony and pulled the flying objects to their source before stepping down.

“Good heavens!” Rarity pushed her mane out of her face, blushing. “Hasn’t anypony told you to announce yourself before entering?”

“I thought I did,” the Ghost said as he returned the objects. She snatched them from his grasp, floating them onto a side table.

“In any case, I thank you for coming at my request. I’m sure you’re quite exhausted from tonight’s… um, festivities.”

“That’s a kind way to put it.” The Ghost offered a small smile, one Rarity hesitated in returning. “Did you need me for something? Your request was a little…”

“Hurried?” Rarity suggested. “Yes. Please forgive me, I was so caught up in the moment and… well, it is not everyday one can witness a neerdowell subdued by large crystal bowls. You understand, I’m sure.”

“Of course.”

The air stood still between them, with the Ghost’s lips still curved into a smirk. Rarity gave a polite sigh and spoke in the most official tone she could muster in an attempt to break the awkward pressure she felt weighing down on her.

“Well, I called you here because I feel we have something of a common cause. I know it was you in Shield Wall’s office that night. I can only conclude that you, too, suspect something fishy is going on within his department.” Rarity brought the notebook back to her, suspending it in the air. “I have been tasked by Princess Celestia and Princess Luna to collect evidence on anypony involved in a conspiracy that has rooted here in Canterlot, and I suspect you have a similar mission. Am I correct?”

“Quite astute, miss, but who is to say that I am not a part of this corrupt cabal of conspirators you hunt?”

“Call it a hunch,” she returned. “Were you truly of a nefarious sort, I doubt you would take the time to go the lengths you did tonight.”

“For the sake of the illusion, then,” the Ghost said, teasingly. “These are dangerous ponies you’re dealing with, miss, and they could be capable of anything.”

“Like drawing attention to themselves dressed in flowing black garb?”

The Ghost could only smile at Rarity’s quick wit. It was hard for him to not give away too much of his excitement at discovering the mysterious mare from the other night was the same dressmaker who so passionately dragged him to a spa day. Instead, the Ghost held his little smirk as he approached Rarity from the edge of the balcony.

“You’re certainly more than just the dressmaker ponies say you are,” he said as he gazed into her eyes.

“Ha!” Rarity restrained the outburst and fought to contain her amusement. “Don’t believe everything Canterlot tells you, darling… wh-what have they told you?”

“Oh, only the most wonderful of things, miss,” he teased further. “I might even share a little with you if you share a little with me.”

“Hmm…” she cooed, raising a playful eyebrow. “As you wish, but I don’t share this information lightly. You can be trusted, yes?”

“Of course.”

“Good…,” Rarity said as she composed herself. “I believe Shield Wall, one of the vice generals, is in collusion with members of Canterlot nobility for some devious purpose. I’m not sure what, though.”

“You’re right,” the Ghost said, plainly.

“I am? I mean, of course I am, which would mean that Chief Magistrate Midnight Gavel is a co-conspirator.”

“Right again.”

“The two could do unspeakable things with their combined influence, but I haven’t any solid evidence against them. Unless… you know something I don’t.”

“Like how he’s lost all support for his scheme?”

“He has?” Rarity looked to the black-clad pony in shock. “If that’s true, then what could be accomplished? Perhaps they’ve gone into splinter groups, or have become warring parties.”

“I wouldn’t think that,” the Ghost began. “Shield Wall is still very much in charge. Before you arrived at his office I was able to eavesdrop on a conversation between him and his cohorts: Gavel, who you know, and a pony named Serenade.”

“Should I know him, too?”

“Yes. He’s been operating outside of Canterlot as Shield Wall’s criminal liaison and governs most of the gangs in eastern Equestria.”

“Oh, goodness,” Rarity said with a stern pout, bringing a hoof to her chin. “To think his influence had spread so far. Do you know how long this conspiracy has been in play?”

“Over twenty years.”

“T-Twenty years? Why, with that kind of time he could’ve infiltrated every level of Canterlot’s infrastructure, and he apparently has. But what caused the divide?”

“I don’t know, I was hoping you may be able to fill me in on what’s going on with the nobility.”

“Well, they haven’t always been a cooperative bunch.” Rarity finally turned back to her seat and rested, taking up her coffee again. “Fancy Pants is usually my go-to for all gossip and stories of intrigue, but he’s been very quiet the past few days. You don’t think… could Fancy be a part of all this?”

“It makes sense. I’ve never met the stallion, but I doubt he was pulled from the crowd for a public execution by chance. Maybe he was the one who instigated the split with Shield Wall, and that’s why he was targeted at the party. This is how Shield Wall operates.”

“What do you mean?” Rarity tilted her head at the Ghost’s comment.

The cloaked figure remained silent. There was a struggle within to tell Rarity everything, to let all the bottled up anger and sadness out in a single wash of relief. Instead, though, he resisted the urge to show any emotion and spoke plainly.

“He’s been committing crime after crime for decades, all for the purpose of starting a war. Everything he does is done for that goal, alone, and he wouldn’t let Fancy get in the way of that.”

“Pfft, of course it’s a war.” Rarity sipped her coffee. “That’s all any of the General’s Board talk about is war. I’ve interviewed every one of them, even the Warmaster, and it’s the same story. Stratos couldn’t be more for it.”

“Vice General Stratos?”

“You know her?”

“Of her, yes,” the Ghost said, quicker than he intended. “She was on a short list of possible conspirators, along with Gavel and Serenade. Together, they plan to stage a war with Griffonstone.”

“Using the ships at Horseshoe Bay, correct?”

For once, the Ghost lacked any response and stared at Rarity as she took another long sip from her coffee cup. She looked to him, paused, and realized the situation. The cup clacked against the side table as she continued.

“In my investigation, I had requested all documentation about certain operations of interest to be prepared and delivered to me from the EUP offices. Naturally, one would suspect that if there were any misdealings they would do their best to cover it up, namely by not including the paperwork detailing the voyage schedules for the vessels under Shield Wall’s command.”

“So how did you get them?”

“I picked them up in person… a day early.” Rarity took a triumphant sip from the mug. “You should’ve seen how frantically they were rushing around the office. Just one glance of a pretty mare with ‘royal authority’ and those bold colts in armor would do simply anything.”

A smile was all the Ghost could give to contain the raucous laughter fighting to escape. He knew all too well how true Rarity’s words were as images of his service flooded his mind, bringing with them memories of long guard routes and more than a hoofful of pretty mares flirting with the soldiers. A soft chuckle broke through the smile.

“They would, wouldn’t they?”

“Indeed,” Rarity giggled. “Needless to say, a host of sensitive things made it through to me that probably shouldn’t have. Much was in a jargon I couldn’t hope to understand, but there was an interesting document detailing reassignments to Horseshoe Bay. Dozens of soldiers, all under the command of Shield Wall, himself.”

The Ghost rubbed his mouth with a gloved hoof. His pondering left Rarity in a bubble of silent tension, left to fiddle with her mug and almost watch the gears turning behind the Ghost’s obscured face. She tried to speak, but instead elected to drain her mug and not break the silence.

“They’re not soldiers,” he said, almost a whisper.

“I beg your pardon?”

“The ponies deployed to Horseshoe Bay, they’re not soldiers. Shield Wall’s been sending his criminal agents all across eastern Equestria, rounding up riches from locals and recruiting to his cause. It’s all done under the guise of rival gangs, but make no mistake, he’s the one in charge.”

“How could they not be?” Rarity leaned forward in her seat. “The deployment schedule went through official channels. Why would Shield Wall feel the need to inform others of his scheme?”

“Because he’s under official review? Because if dozens of criminals disguised as soldiers suddenly appeared in Horseshoe Bay, all answering to him, he would have to explain himself. The lie would leave him vulnerable.”

“So even though it’s a ruse, he still has to let the rest of the General’s Board know, even if they don’t actually know,” Rarity said, astonished, trying to sip from the already empty mug.

“Exactly. He doesn’t have the authority to challenge the Warmaster, so he needs another way to transport large amounts of weapons, munitions, and horsepower across the country, and how better to do it than by using taxpayers’ bits? You put him in quite a jam.”

“Me?”

“Yes,” the Ghost replied. “You’re an Element of Harmony, sent on royal order to perform a sweeping investigation of the entire royal infrastructure. He can’t buy you, he can’t kill you, so the best he has is to do everything he can to keep you blind. Even then, it seems, he still can’t keep a secret from you.”

Rarity puffed out her chest a bit, reveling in the praise. She gave a satisfied huff before standing to face her guest. She crossed the balcony, meeting his wispy black visage halfway.

“Then there is only one question,” she said. “What do we do now? If Shield Wall is planning something horrible we have to stop him, and fast.”

“We do, but thankfully we have time. His funds have all but dried up, most likely spending the last of them on the troop movements and the assassination. He won’t try anything until he has money.”

“Thank heavens,” Rarity sighed. “But, what do we do in the meantime? We don’t have the foggiest of an idea when the attack is or who the target is.”

“I may know somepony who can help.”

The Ghost turned from Rarity. Her eyes followed his movements and trailed along his form, and as she did, she noticed a bolt of black fabric hanging off the edge of the balcony. It was attached to the Ghost and held taught. Before she had a moment to ask, the Ghost yanked hard on the black tendril and lifted a pony up and onto the balcony. He was a unicorn, ice blue and tied with a rag over his mouth, letting out muffled screams as hard as his lungs would allow as the black cloak uncoiled and returned to its owner. Rarity stood horrified before putting the pieces together.

“Miss, meet Serenade, former member of the 22nd Recon Division and the malicious malefactor known to eastern Equestria as Plunder, crime-lord and murderer extraordinaire.”

“Sir, I know you are quite proud of your work,” Rarity began, her eyes locked on Serenade. “But could you please explain to me why there is a hogtied pony on my balcony!”

“Consider it a proper courting gift,” the Ghost teased. “A symbol of our newfound partnership. I picked him up because he is the single, most wanted pony in eastern Equestria and has intimate knowledge of all Shield Wall’s plans. Don’t worry, you won’t have to feed him, he’s coming with me.”

Serenade shot the Ghost a menacing glare from the floor of the balcony. His efforts to escape were useless, though, as the Ghost merely chuckled at the display. Rarity, however, was busy fanning herself with her hoof in an attempt to keep her cool in such a deranged situation. She raised her muzzle, electing to focus on the sky, the stars, the chirps of Luna’s bats, anything to distract from the criminal act unfolding before her.

“You say he knows Shield Wall’s plans?”

“He certainly does.”

“And you will be keeping hold of him?”

“Not much room for two ponies in that room of yours, and unlike me, he’s not the cuddling type.”

Rarity shot the Ghost a cold stare, but relented. She turned her back to Serenade and continued.

“I don’t suppose I need to tell you just how illegal your methods are?”

“Or how illegal Shield Wall’s are?” The Ghost returned Rarity’s question with a smirk.

“Fair enough, but you’re not going to… dispose of him are you?” Her words caught Serenade’s frightened attention, causing him to whimper.

“Of course not, he is far more valuable alive.”

“Then…” Rarity hesitated on her next words. She took a final look at the Ghost and memories of the gala slipped into her mind. “Then I trust you. You tell me what he knows and I will create my report for the princesses. Agreed?”

Rarity held out her hoof, only to be snatched up by the Ghost’s gloved one. He raised it to his lips and planted a single, gentle kiss upon it.

“Agreed.”

Rarity opened her mouth to speak, a blush on her face, but took a moment too long as the Ghost whipped around and mounted the balcony railing. He heaved Serenade over his shoulder before shooting Rarity one last glance, whipping a corner of his cloak out and swinging off into the night. She stood in awe of the display and strained to watch her newfound partner fade into the darkened streets.

It took a second for Rarity to recover from the experience, but in time she returned to her seat and pulled the notebook to her, raising a quill again.

I’m curious if the two have history or, at the very least, some common enmity for each other. Whatever the case, I can assure that this, thanks especially to recent events, may be the single most dangerous thing I have ever done.

When this is all over, I’m sticking to dresses.

Chapter 18: “Have you forgotten everything I taught you?!”

The room was immaculate, to say the least. The Time Keeper Suite, pride and joy of the Clocktower Auberge. Fineries imported from the foreign realm of Somnambula decorated the suite with their clean arrangement. The walls and cabinets were all decorated to match the stark white array of furniture in a display of contrasting black and white. The elegance of the room was punctuated by, perhaps, it’s most imposing feature: the large clock face standing tall as the room’s main window. Shield Wall, who was sat primly upon a white sofa, watched with fascination as the gears of the clock spun and clicked into its various configurations and pushed the hands of time ever onward along the wheel of metal and glass. With each tick of the gears Shield Wall conjured an image from the gala.

His mind wandered over every detail, replaying the night from all possible angles up to the moment he came face-to-face with the enemy. His enemy, the same terrible visage that haunted his younger life. The same face that penetrated his every thought for almost twenty years. Shield could feel a change happen within him, a stillness he had not felt since that night sailing for the Dragon Lands.

There was no pounding in his mind. No frantic sprint to Midnight for comfort and tea. No boredom. He was, for the first time in two decades, completely present.

Shield Wall’s trance was broken by the sudden burst of the suite’s door and an airy voice bombarding his senses.

“... what we have to do, Major Dome, we simply cannot be caught looking like some common riff-raff. It is the Royal Symphony Orchestra, not a county fair, so you can tell that impudent tailor to maximize the thread count if he wants to maximize his profit from me. Ah, Mr. Wall!”

Lord Aristo flung his hoof into the air, waving daintily to Shield Wall and crossing the room to meet his guest. Major Dome paid no mind to the pair as he lugged a disturbing amount of shopping bags into the suite and stacked them in an orderly fashion past the kitchenette.

“My lord, you are most generous to allow me entrance while you were away,” Shield Wall said while shaking Aristo’s polished hoof.

“Oh please, sir, after your soldiers rescued us from such terrifying tribulation how could I not?”

“Your use of alliteration is impeccable,” Shield said with a feigned smile, cringing at the comment.

“But, of course, you’re not here to listen to my praises,” Aristo began, clapping his hooves and receiving a platter of tea and snacks from Major Dome before resting on the sofa. “Might I interest you in some tea? This batch is fresh from the Zebra-held wildlands, very exotic.”

Shield Wall floated a steaming cup to himself. He watched as Aristo sipped gingerly from his own with a giggly little smile plastered on his face. Slowly, Shield lifted the liquid to his mouth and tasted. True to Aristo’s word, the tea held a bright taste that nipped at the tongue, with a dry and fruity flavor that lingered on his palette like a midday wine. He hated it, but continued to drink.

“My lord,” he began, prepared to deliver his carefully crafted speech. “When we last spoke, I wished to extend an offer for you to join an organization of mine. We are a small, but highly influential, group of nobleponies fighting to ensure Equestria looks after her own instead of surrendering to the interests of foreign powers. With your considerable influence added to our own, we would have the power to set a long-standing plan into action that would secure both personal and career security for all Equestrians. Now, I do not wish to take up too much of your valuable time-”

“Ooh, then stop with the ceremony and tell me your grand scheme!” Aristo bounced in his seat a little, much to Shield Wall’s surprise.

“Yes…” Shield cleared his throat. “My colleagues and I are seeking a benefactor to fund a nationwide tour, of sorts, to help rouse the ponies from their complacency and get them to take matters into their own hooves. Lobbying the royalty and nobility of Canterlot has proven... fruitless, despite my best efforts. But with your help, my lord, our mission to put power into the hooves of those who deserve it simply cannot fail.”

Aristo held his giddy smile and clapped his hooves together lightly, applauding Shield Wall. He leaned over to Major Dome, who stood beside the sofa, and spoke through the refreshments in his mouth.

“An excellent and most noble cause, wouldn’t you say, Major Dome?”

“Of course, sir, truly admirable.” Major Dome made no noticeable change in his firm expression, and his stiffness kept Shield Wall on edge. There were very few ponies Shield Wall was incapable of reading, and even fewer who could mask their intentions for long, but the stoic face Major Dome displayed seemed almost practiced to Shield Wall’s trained eyes.

“Of course, Mr. Wall,” Aristo announced, braking Shield from his trance. “While your notion is all well and good, I would like to discuss means of compensation. An investment necessitates a return, after all.”

“How correct you are, my lord, which is why I have taken the liberty of preparing legislation, overseen by the Chief Magistrate, to allow certain special permissions to lead coordinators of the national effort. Among those coordinators, of course, would be myself and all who lend their support.”

“How devious,” Aristo giggled, almost letting out a jubilant squee. “To use the citizenry as a weapon against foreign interest and as a tool to line our pockets with gold and political favors. Ooh, Mr. Wall, you are quite the mastermind.”

“Yes… yes, I am,” Shield Wall said, feeling a light flutter in his chest. “I am honored to hear you say so. Of course, I have taken care of all the necessary arrangements and once you have made an initial investment we can begin the operation. I trust my terms are agreeable?”

Shield Wall removed a roll of parchment from his coat and spread it across the table before them. Aristo lifted it with a hoof, scanning the document, before handing it over to Major Dome to be analyzed. After a long pause, the aging unicorn passed it back to his master.

“Mr. Wall, your terms are quite fair, indeed,” Aristo said, lifting a cookie to his mouth. “You said it like this investment would be expensive.”

“Then am I to conclude you will join us?”

“Mr. Wall, I-”

“My lord,” Major Dome piped up. “I recognize you are excited to pursue this project, but perhaps we should review Mr. Wall’s financials and project itinerary to test for their legitimacy. It would be wise.”

“Oh, I suppose you’re right,” Aristo said, dejected. “Forgive me, Mr. Wall, but Major Dome serves as the analytical half of our little duo. I suspect you do have a project intimacy?”

“Itinerary,” Major Dome corrected.

“Yes, that.”

“Of course, my lord.” From within his coat, Shield Wall produced a second sheaf of parchment and floated it over to Major Dome, this time.

The grey unicorn held it in his magical grasp and scanned, flipping through the packet with care as his eyes traveled along the streams of words and images that adorned each page. Aristo sat like an impatient foal, craning his neck to see the document and ‘ooh’ing at the various drawings of ships and tour routes to be taken. Shield Wall sat still in his seat. It was unusual for a single pony to fill him with such anxiety, but Major Dome’s shifting eyes did just that as they darted from the parchment to Shield Wall and back again. At long last, he relinquished the document to his master.

“It is sound, my lord.”

“Ooh, lovely. If there is to be a tour I want to ride on the big one.” Aristo chirped as he looked through the packet, pointing an excited hoof to the drawn image of a large warship adorned with Equestrian flags.

“We can arrange seating when the time comes, my lord,” Shield Wall interrupted. “For now, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. You have given me such hope for the future of Equestria.”

“You are welcome to it anytime.” Aristo held out a hoof to Shield Wall. He stared at it for a moment and, with a sense of internal disgust, reached out and shook. Aristo pulled away which sent a wash of relief running through Shield Wall.

“Now, unless you would like to have a personal demonstration of my wardrobe for the Royal Symphony Orchestra’s concert, I must bid you good day.” Aristo rose from the sofa and walked to the mound of bags in the corner. Major Dome lead Shield Wall to the door and held it open for him.

“Thank you for your time, sir,” he muttered before ushering the vice general out of the suite. He paused and held an ear to the door to follow the hoofsteps leading down the hallway before relinquishing his disguise. Aristo did the same, throwing the wig across the room and releasing the clasps along his surcoat.

“I wish I could create clothing like you can,” Silver said, taking the long breath his slim-fitting disguise would not allow.

“Quite useful, if I do say, but enough of that.” Darrox spread the itinerary out onto the table. “This is a farce, my boy, a clever misdirection to hide the truth of his scheme.”

“Well, obviously,” Silver stated as he began sifting through the bags. His hooves floundered through the cushioned mass before making contact with something solid, sharp, and that squawked at his touch. Silver gave a heave and pulled Gilda from the bags, her feathery head poking out from the array of high-priced clothing.

“Remind me again why I’m stuffed in this bag?” She growled.

“What, you’ve never heard of eggs in a basket?”

“If I weren’t stuck in here I would slap you.”

“That’s the idea, G,” Silver said as he freed her from her cloth-ladened prison. “Besides, if Shield Wall caught on to the disguise, Darrox and I would need your help to keep him subdued.”

“Verily, my dear,” Darrox said from the coffee table, his eyes still on the parchment. “Now I must say, this is fascinating. He seems to have illustrated a series of warships to be used for this ‘tour’ he mentioned. We, of course, know he truly plans to assault the cities along the Bridle Shores, but the level of authenticity with this document is staggering. He must be quite confident in his ability to bend Lord Aristo to his will if he is willing to share such intimate details about the plan. We are on the clock, my boy, no pun intended, but once we find Serenade we will be able to trap Shield Wall in a hole of litigation so deep even he cannot climb out.”

Gilda turned to Silver. He knew that look, it was the same look she gave him that night on the rooftop. Silver smacked his lips, trying to find the words to speak, before a gentle claw rested on his back and urged him on. Silver took a step forward.

“I found Serenade, Darrox,” he said, shakily.

“Oh? My boy, why did you not tell me? We will have to apprehend him at once, and once the authorities-”

“There won’t....” Silver interrupted. “There won’t be any authorities, Darrox.”

“I do not understand...” Darrox shot a confused glance at his student, who stiffened as he forced more words from within him.

“I caught Serenade the night of the Gala by following his trail to Restaurant Row. He’s currently tied to a chair in the utility tunnels below the train station.”

“Why not bring him to the ship?” Darrox looked perplexed. “Surely, we would-”

“We can’t, Darrox!” Silver spoke louder than he wanted, keeping his eyes on the floor. “I had to stare the mare I love in the face and pretend I didn’t care about her. That I didn’t know her. We had every chance in the world to end it right there, at the gala, but instead we pranced about like morons in our stupid disguises, used Gilda as race-bait, and I had to watch Abby walk away with another stallion.”

“We stopped an assassination, my boy,” Darrox said, crossing the room to comfort his student. “Were it not for our little game Fancy Pants would have been murdered and Shield Wall emboldened. There is a process to these things, you will learn, and it comes with great pain. Impatience will get us nowhere.”

“So how long will it take, huh? How long do I have to keep running around dressed like a bed sheet until I get to be with her again?”

“The process takes time, my boy,” Darrox comforted. “If we are to rush we will open ourselves to mistakes, and with Shield Wall there can be no mistakes.”

“She was right there!” Silver locked eyes with his mentor, desperately hiding the ache in his chest. “Abby, Shining, Cadence, everypony I care about was staring me dead in the face. Why can’t I tell them? Why can’t they know?!”

“Because there is too much at stake. If you, once the object of Shield Wall’s obsession, returned from the dead in such a dramatic fashion, who knows to what malicious lengths he would stoop to complete his plans. Do not forget who we are dealing with.”

“How can I forget? I’m reminded whenever I look in the mirror.”

“Then you know how carefully we must proceed.”

“But they would’ve understood!” Silver cried out and clutched his head. “They would’ve known it was me, we could’ve arrested them on the spot and I would be with Abby right now. What we’re doing isn’t fast enough!”

“It is not about rapidity, Silver, it is about claiming victory on all fronts. Do not speak as if you lack hope.”

“Hope?” Silver stared his master dead in the face, his expression twisting with anger. “Hope is me sitting on a beach, staring at the sunset because the little green flash is all I have of her. Hope is training with that cloak, every day, until my hooves bleed. Hope, Darrox, is coming back to give my widowed mother the first smile she’s had in years and saving my home!”

“Do you not understand the mission?” Darrox brought his gaze to Silver’s, pale eyes tensing. “Without the process of justice, true justice, then we are nothing more than over-glorified guards with a profound disregard for personal safety. Do you not remember what I told you on the beach? It is not only the fight, but the discourse you must win. That is what all this is for: to win this eternal game of good and evil.”

“A game?!” Silver seemed to explode, so much so even Gilda retreated from her place beside him. “You think the marks on my back are a game, that having my entire body strangled, held against my will while I was threatened and broken was some kind of joke?! You’re telling me to ignore what I’m fighting for, but you’ve never fought for anything!”

“I fought for Equestria!” Darrox snapped.

“Oh, bull! If you gave a diamond dog’s ass about Equestria, you would’ve been off that island in a heartbeat and Shield Wall would be in prison by now, but no, you were ready to die!”

“Do not mistake my complacency for apathy, boy,” Darrox said in a stiff, grim tone. “I have always been ready to make the ultimate sacrifice.”

“Well, I’m not. Not yet. I have a family, a life, and I’m tired of waiting for them to stop thinking I’m dead!”

“Such things must be fought for with strategy and patience! You cannot simply aggress a few miscreants, parade your skills for the masses, and expect them all to fall at your hooves. To stop Shield Wall you will need more than juvenile tactics. The ponies of Equestria are willfully ignorant of the dark forces lurking in the shadows and will not always have your back. The discourse, my boy, remember the discourse!”

“Screw the discourse!” Silver stamped his hoof into the floor, cracking the polished wood. “Six years, Darrox! Six years and I won’t wait another second!”

“Have you forgotten everything I taught you?!” Darrox’s thin, insectoid wings fluttered in annoyance as he yelled. “This fight is bigger than you. Do not sacrifice the lives of hundreds for the sake of your impulsiveness. You chose a greater responsibility. You are the Ghost!”

“Well right now I choose her!”

All sound left the room as Silver’s comment. Darrox’s boiling frustration seemed to leave him suddenly, replaced with the sinking realization of the pain behind his student’s words. He mumbled something Silver’s ears did not pick up on as he watched his student stomp past and to the door. Silver removed the rest of Aristo’s ensemble and hefted a saddlebag over his back. Gilda, trying to shake off the intensity of the debate, followed suit before Silver turned to Darrox.

“I’m not like you, Darrox, I can’t ignore my love for my family,” he said, his voice much calmer now. “I’ll stop Shield Wall, you know I will, but I won’t kill Silver Spade to do it.”

With that they were out the door. Darrox stood alone in the suite, his old heart pounding in his chest. He took a few steps over to the sofa and sat, ignoring the itinerary and costumes that surrounded him. A part of himself was screaming at Silver. Darrox recounted all he had given him, all he taught him, and that spiteful part of his soul nearly wretched at the thought of Silver’s insurrection. A tension formed across the barrel of his chest as all his fears came to the forefront. Silver would do something rash, get caught, and be killed. He would ruin all they had worked for. The look on Honey Hearts’ face when she learns that Darrox did not keep his promise to protect him, and how devastated she would be to lose her child again.

These and many more anxieties ruled Darrox’s mind for a moment, until he stood and walked to the clock face. Peering out across Canterlot, he spotted Silver and Gilda exiting the Auberge, making a beeline for the train station. Darrox watched Silver intently, how he moved, how he greeted the ponies he ran into, how he kept Gilda to his side instead of behind him. It was these little things, Darrox learned, that show what kind of heart a pony has, and they made him smile.

Despite all their heated anger just moments before, and despite all the cruel words, he still smiled.

“You told him.”

“Hmm?”

“Aristo. You told him.”

“Is there a problem?”

Midnight Gavel sat uncomfortably in the chair across from his friend, who seemed to be given an aura of purity by the beaming sunlight coming in through the window behind him. Nopony more than Gavel, though, knew how false such a sight was. He tensed his brow, leaned forward, and spoke again.

“You told Aristo about the plan. Do not lie, I already know you did.”

“Am I to presume you are having me followed as well, Midnight?” Shield Wall sat at his desk, generously sipping from a large cup of tea. “I might think you have become just as paranoid as I.”

“Only because of your recklessness, Shield. Need I remind you how close we are to losing all hope for the operation?”

“It is of no consequence, Midnight, Aristo agreed to the terms this morning.” Again, Shield sipped through his thin smile. “I had sent a missive informing you of the meeting.”

“Why not tell me in person?”

“You were… indisposed.” This brought a deep chuckle out of Shield Wall, which resonated through Gavel’s being.

Normally, Gavel has a firm understanding of his friend’s actions and motives. Even in the most frustrating of times Shield Wall was predictable, but today he saw something he did not recognize. Shield Wall sat with proper posture. He wore a delighted little smirk across his muzzle. His eyes, those bright golden eyes, followed every movement from behind his limply hanging eyelids. Gavel recognized these symptoms from the occasional trance his friend would enter during times of stress, but there was no anxiety to be read upon his face. He had been like this since the gala, since the battle.

“Shield…” Gavel said, hesitantly. “Are you alright? You seem… different.”

“Different how?”

“Like you know something I don’t.”

“That, my friend, is because I do.” Shield set the tea down onto his desk and leaned forward, placing his hooves together. “As you no doubt recall, our dear business partner, Serenade, elected to pay us a visit during the gala in regards to his payment. It has been three days since then and Serenade seems to have dropped off the face of Equestria.”

“Good riddance,” Gavel spat. “We never should have associated ourselves with him and his ilk.”

“In hindsight I could not agree more, however, he would not leave Canterlot without what he is owed. Serenade is far too greedy for that. No, our dear colleague was snatched up by the Ghost sometime after the gala attack.”

“A single pony found Serenade, a master criminal and scoundrel, in only a few hours?” Gavel stared at Shield Wall in disbelief, resisting the urge to scoff at his friend’s claims.

“Do not underestimate him, Gavel. You did not witness, first hoof, the prowess this new Ghost possesses. No, the Ghost did take Serenade and is most likely interrogating him for any information pertaining to our operation. Funds, horsepower, timeline, et cetera.”

“Ugh!” Gavel dragged his hooves across his face, groaning at the words coming from his friend. “Enough of your obsession with this hooligan. Is this what has you pepped up today? Has your boredom finally been lifted because you get to play “cops-and-robbers” with the Ghost again?”

“Do not patronize me, Gavel.”

“Oh, but I will. Your longing for the grand escapades of old has clouded your judgement. First, the ruthlessness you treated our supporters with, then recruiting Aristo to our cause, and now allowing your fixation to rule your decisions. Do you not remember how many nights you spent watching the skies, waiting for him to return? I do, and it was years.”

“Yes, your point?”

“My point, Shield, is your nostalgia has clouded your senses.” Gavel stamped his hoof onto the floor, glaring. “Can you not see? We lose our supporters, and our money with them, forcing us to scramble for a new plan with what little resources we have. Then, miraculously, some airhead of a noble nopony has ever heard of arrives and provides the answer to our struggles, and he is everything you want. Arrogant, prejudiced, and more bits than sense. The perfect trap, and you have walked right into it. Why, for all we know, Aristo might as well be this new Ghost.”

“He is.”

Gavel paused and stared, unblinking, at the still calm Shield Wall.

“What do you mean?”

“Aristo is the Ghost.”

“I do not follow?”

“Then allow me to make it simple.” Shield leaned forward and placed his hooves together. “I scarcely believed it, myself, in the beginning. Aristo, a pompous and frivolous pony if ever there was one, secretly marauding as an avenger of the night. Foalish, but imagine my surprise when both he and the Ghost arrived on the same night, but even so I was not fully convinced. There are many elements even we fail to account for, but when Serenade went missing everything became clear.

“The secret lies with Serenade. A masked assailant storms his home and runs him out of the seat of his power. Then, the Ghost arrives to stop Serenade’s minions during an execution. Such knowledge is privileged, and therefore both incidents are interlinked. Then, enter Aristo. He is young, arrogant, and disturbingly rich, all of the things we most desperately need at this stage of the plan. For all three of these incidents to have come to light, triggered by Serenade’s arrival, cannot be coincidence. They want to recover my plans so they can release them to Miss Rarity, the obvious first choice for a vigilante to go to, and they will no doubt try to sic the princesses on me in an attempt to stop whatever scheme they think I have. I was able to piece it all together this morning after leaving their suite at the Clocktower Auberge.”

“You keep saying ‘they’.”

“Because there are two,” Shield continued. “Aristo and his aging servant, Major Dome. Aristo is far too young to hold any serious grudge against me, nor could he know of my previous endeavors. Major Dome, however, is an entirely different story. He is the real Ghost, that withered old bug, back from the dead to haunt me and using Aristo as a means of exacting some measure of justice. There is no other way that pompous fool could know of my plans.”

“But… if that is true,” Gavel muttered. “If that is true then they were the ones who attacked Coltistrano and stalked Serenade all the way to Canterlot. Major Dome is that changeling in disguise, and now that Serenade is missing…”

The sudden realization knocked the wind right out of Gavel. He slumped back in his seat, eyes focused on the floor, thinking of all Serenade knew about their decades-long crime. Their names, their faces, their motives. Everything waiting to be exposed. His lip quivered and, mustering his strength, Gavel looked to meet the unchanged face of Shield Wall.

“If you are correct,” he muttered, “then we are too late. It is over. The Ghost will attempt to expose us using Serenade as a witness. If I am indicted, then there will be nothing to stop the case from going through to the Investigations Bureau. We will be prosecuted, Shield, and thrown in prison for the rest of our lives.”

“Perhaps,” Shield said, dismissively. “But it is of no consequence.”

“No consequence? Shield Wall, we will be undone. Ruined! After all we have done and all the ponies you have threatened, not to mention… removed, the nobility will tear us apart.”

“They will try,” Shield said plainly while Gavel’s face twisted in confusion and aggravation.

“We are bucked, Shield!” He shouted. “We are bucked and there is nothing we can do about it. Can you not see that much?”

“All I see, Gavel, is a pony who never fully believed in the mission, my mission, crumbling under the pressure of a single setback.”

“You call it crumbling? I call it common sense,” Gavel shot back, rising from his seat. “I have always believed in you but this blow is lethal. When the governors, nay, the princesses catch wind of our scheme they will have our lives pulled out from under us.”

“Even if it comes to that, there is still time,” Shield Wall said, retaining his calm. “Even if we must flee the city, it will take them days to uncover our plans, regardless of Serenade’s testimony. He was kept in the dark for a reason.”

“So we run? We run all across Equestria, being hunted by soldiers, Luna’s Night Guard, and the object of your obsession, until what? What happens after?”

“We win!” Finally, Shield stands from the desk, his molten yellow eyes piercing into Gavel’s own. “We still have cards to play, lengths to which we can go, methods we can use to finally have an Equestria worth saving!”

“Like what? What sort of master plan do you have now, hm?”

“We remove every possible threat to us, like we should have done in the beginning, starting with that prissy harlot the princesses called in to investigate us.”

“You mean Rarity?” Gavel’s mouth hung agape. “The Rarity? The Element of Generosity and personal assistant to Princess Twilight? The one who you, yourself, said we could not kill, that Rarity?”

“Yes.”

The single word hit Gavel harder than any other that day. It left him still, taking with it his will to fight back against his friend’s resolve. Shield only looked on. Inside him was the same stillness he felt at the clocktower, the same he felt staring down the Ghost. It comforted him, proving to himself he was right.

“This is madness,” Gavel whispered. He lost all regality in his tone, replaced by a tremble in his throat and a wash of fear across his face. “Shield, you cannot kill her. She is an Element, and more valuable to the country than any sense of nationalism you wish to impose. She is not like the whistleblowers we dealt with before. Nopony will follow us if we kill her.”

“Wrong, my friend. Just as I had intended to do with Fancy Pants, I will blame the assassination on Griffonstone extremists. Once Rarity becomes a martyr, coordinated with the attacks on the Bridle Shores, the wretched hordes of commoners will be begging for war. And when the Princesses refuse, they will turn to whomever will lead them.”

“But the money? The accounts are dried up, and it will be days before you can secure Aristo’s bits, let alone transport them to the contacts in Horseshoe Bay.”

“I won’t be using Aristo’s money,” Shield said, a hint of annoyance in his tone. “I have already dedicated the entirety of my fortune to the plan. Everything has been accounted for.”

Gavel stopped in his place, stunned by the level of dedication his ally had taken. A hundred arguments formed in his head to convince Shield Wall of his lunacy but, deep down, he knew they would fall on deaf ears.

“No.”

Finally, Shield Wall’s expression broke as he twisted his neck to the source of the offending word. Gavel spoke firmly.

“No, I will not let that happen. There are limits to how far we can go, Shield, and you have reached them. As your colleague and confidant I ask you abandon this course and help me contain the damage before an-”

“Get out.” The words hung in the air, bleeding into Gavel’s very soul.

“Please, Shield, I am your friend. I only-”

“And it is for that reason you still draw breath.” A wrath laid behind Shield Wall’s eyes Gavel had never seen before as they bored through him. “Do I need to repeat myself?”

Not another word came from Gavel. The silence of the office pierced every part of his being as he simply turned from the desk and walked away. He reached the door and looked over his shoulder, only to find Shield Wall facing away from him and out the window, before leaving the office. The soft click of the door seemed to punctuate Shield Wall’s rage as the sense of stillness returned. The cup of tea floated over to him and, as he took a sip, he willed his tension out from his body. With a flick of his horn the window opened to the breeze and sunlight of the outside, while a second flick brought a stack of parchment, a quill and ink, and his sending stone to his side as it glowed to life. The quill began to scratch against the paper as he waved a hoof over the sending stone. His smile returned.

Chapter 19: "You were… of use.”

The sun hung low over Canterlot, casting its warm glow between the pearlescent towers that loomed over the streets. Rays of golden light helped illuminate the path along which Rarity walked. She waved, smiled, and greeted the many ponies who called out her name, partaking in casual conversation to distract from the heat rising through her body. With each step she took the heat crawled further up her spine, gathering at the tips of her snow white ears and sending even further worry through her. The walk from her boutique to the train station felt like years to her addled mind. She walked to and intersection of two streets and, begrudgingly, followed the path devoid of Celestia’s sun.

The streets became darker with each passing second. Rarity knew full well what she had been summoned for, and who awaited her, but the preparation did nothing to quell the quiver in her chest as she rounded the corner to the station. Off to the side there was a plain looking door. She crossed the distance to it, scanned her surroundings, and gently pushed on the sheet of metal as it squealed open. The path down was dark and ended in a pit of shadow. Rarity took a gulp to summon her courage before crossing the threshold into the dark underbelly of Canterlot, clutching her saddlebag the whole way down. There was scant light, tight corridors, and a lingering smell of mildew and abandonment. She slowed her pace and contemplated retreating back to the fading light outside, until something brushed against her shoulder.

“OhgoodnessgrasciousI’llvaporizeyou!” Rarity let out a scream and twirled with her horn charged.

“I have no doubt you will,” her tormentor spoke, a smirk on his face.

Rarity held her pose for a moment more before taking a long, deep breath. The sigh she released brought the magic shining on her horn to rest. She sighed again, raggedly.

“W-Well, this is certainly not the first date I expected,” she said, trying to regain her composure.

“I’m sure. Maybe next time I’ll take you somewhere with less spiders.”

“There are spiders?!”

The Ghost let out a chuckle at Rarity’s expense, shaking his head and turning down the hallway. He guided Rarity through the veritable catacomb that was Canterlot’s utility network, the cascade of walkways and divergent paths a maze for those unprepared. Rarity stuck close to her enigmatic escort, the clopping of their hooves the only familiar sound.

“So…” she muttered. “Am I to expect that we are not alone down here?”

“You’d be correct. Serenade is down the hall, here.”

“Unharmed, I hope?”

“He’s alive.”

The cryptic words brought no comfort to Rarity as the two neared a single door. The Ghost took a step away from Rarity and pushed upon the old and rusted mass before them, summoning a loud creak from the ancient hinges. He waved his foreleg towards the threshold.

“Ladies first.”

Rarity scoffed, playfully upturning her muzzle and stepping through the door. Her brief moment of jest, however, was soon taken by the image of a single pony, bound to a chair in the middle of the room. He wore a battered suit of elegant make, torn in some places, and a black sack over his head. At the side of the room was a long table, littered in various implements ranging from lock picks to knives, blasting powder to poison, and a single humming stone. Rarity could tell, but hardly believe the vast array came from the pony in question. The dim light of the room only accentuated the grimness of the scene.

“I-Is that… him?” Rarity fought to remain calm.

“It is,” the Ghost said, softly. “He doesn’t have to see you, if you don’t want.”

“No, no… I can face him, but…” Rarity turned to the Ghost. “He is alright, yes?”

“Regrettably.” The single word left the Ghost’s mouth as a hiss. “Shall we begin?”

Rarity fought the urge to pry and simply nodded. The Ghost, almost gliding across the room, made his way to the bound pony. Slowly, he placed his hoof upon the black cloth and tore it from his captive’s face. The pony blinked and recoiled at the sudden, violent action. His wincing face soon turned into the same charming expression he always wore.

“Ah,” Serenade rasped. “How good of you to return. Here I thought you had finally become bored of me. Ah, Miss Rarity...”

The Ghost stepped between his guest and captive, giving the latter a firm stare.

“You’re not here to chat, Serenade. You’re here to confess to the royal investigator of your crimes and your part in Shield Wall’s conspiracy against the crown.”

“I have already given you my terms, and yet, you refuse. How can we conduct proper business if both parties cannot come to an agreement?” Serenade spoke mockingly. “And Miss Rarity, surely you can see the error of this charlatan, being so inhospitable to his guests.”

“Do not drag me into your game, ruffian,” Rarity stated. “I know what you are.”

“I am a captive, madam, held against my will,” Serenade wailed, throwing his head back for effect. “You do not know how he has treated me, starved me, even... beaten me. Please, you must save me from this demon.”

“Not until you give a confession. You are a criminal and a scoundrel and only you are to blame for your fate.”

“B-But if not you, then who? This monster will kill me, and if I die…” Serenade’s face turned from woeful to wicked in an instant. “If I die, perhaps my colleagues will come for you. You are so far from Ponyville, and your sister, after all.”

Rarity’s heart ignited in a white-hot flame, but before she could charge the captured pony the dark figure of the Ghost enveloped him. Serenade was lifted, chair and all, into the air and slammed against the wall hard enough to rattle the table of possessions beside them. Blood trickled from his mouth and onto the floor, coughing into the face of the Ghost.

“Speak, you blight, this is your only chance!” Serenade sputtered in the Ghosts grasp, flailing against the lengths of black cloak constricting around his body. “I won’t let your evil destroy another family.”

“H-He… he will k-kill me,” Serenade choked out. “Your actions a-at the gala… your heroics…"

“Then help me stop him before he gets the chance.”

The struggle on Serenade's face began to fade. His flailing lost it’s vigor, and he was released by the Ghost, the legs of the chair clacking against the cold floor. He coughed in a desperate attempt to regain his breath. Rarity crossed the room and walked, face-to-face, before Serenade’s broken form.

“You are foul, sir,” she spat. “Foul, loathsome, and an utter ruffian, but you have the chance to save those who would be victimized by Shield Wall’s machinations. Surely, you can’t be so evil?”

“I certainly can, madam...” he said, but the comment lacked heart. Serenade knew, better than most, the lengths to which Shield Wall would go to complete his scheme. The attack on the Bridle Shores was the last straw, and he had reached the end of his conviction.

“I can,” he continued somberly, “but I am no monster. I merely recruit ponies to do my bidding and make me rich. Shield Wall sends them to die, and… well, there is no profit to be made in a destroyed city. Despite what you may know of me, I am not so heartless.”

“Then tell us what he’s planning.” Rarity opened her saddlebag, producing an inscribed stone. She waved her hoof across the top and the sigil sprung to life, illuminating the trio’s faces in its light. “Merely speak into the stone and tell us everything you know.”

“My name is Serenade, known in eastern Equestria as Plunder, former member of the 22nd Recon Division of the EUP Guard…”

Time passed as Serenade spilled all he knew about the conspiracy into Rarity’s enchanted stone. The confessions that came from Serenade’s lips made the duo’s stomachs turn with their depravity as his six-year long story unfolded before them. He told them about the plan for the Bridle Shores, the round-table conspiracy of nobles, and the vehemence with which Shield Wall showed his disdain for the Princesses’ rule. The Ghost would sneak glances at Rarity and found small tears falling from her eyes.

To him, it wasn’t fair she had been wrapped up in the evil surrounding her. The Ghost chose this life and chose to throw himself into harm’s way for the sake of ponies like Rarity.

“... the last few months were relatively quiet. That is, until a certain masked pony came and ruined all my fun.” Serenade shot a playful smirk at the Ghost, one which hid his frustration. “Truly, sir, you forced me out of my career. What kind of justice is that?”

“The kind that puts a stop to corrupt cretins like you,” the Ghost said, firmly.

“Ugh, such frequent use of alliteration. Truly, madam, how can you stand his speech?”

“Perhaps it’s more the pony than their speech,” Rarity quipped, turning up her muzzle. “Your honeyed words and flowery accent do little to hide your cruelty.”

“You wound me,” Serenade teased, before a buzzing sound came from beside him.

“If you think that will wound you…”

A new voice echoed across the room. Rarity leapt to the Ghost’s side out of shock as Serenade frantically darted his gaze around the barren room. On the table, next to all of Serenade’s possessions, the inscribed sending stone began to glow with a burning intensity.

“... then this will be positively excruciating. I had expected you to be made of sterner stuff, Serenade, but at least you have done me the service of trapping the Ghost within the blast radius.”

“Oh, Celestia, help! Help me!” Serenade screamed at the top of his lunges, fighting against his binds as the stone began to buzz and crack from the building pressure. The blinding light built to its apex as Serenade cried out again. The violent hum drowned him out.

“Farewell, Serenade. You were… of use.”

In an instant, the stone burst into a shock wave of fire and shrapnel. Bits of the stone, table and even the room itself shot out from the epicenter as a hail of death. The Ghost stepped before Rarity and flung his cloak over them both as a million tiny impacts could be felt along its surface, each one landing along the Ghost’s back. They stung, forcing him to wince as he held firm over the cowering unicorn below him. The longest second of their lives ended when the magical fireball retreated back to the ether. Behind them, the metal door burst open, forcing Rarity to jolt and tearfully wail at the sound.

“Sweet flying feathers,” Gilda screeched as she scanned the chaos. “What happened?!”

The Ghost looked over the rim of his cloak to Serenade. In his place laid a charred mass, hardly recognizable as a former crime lord, let alone a pony, and riddled with lacerations. The crater next to him was deep. This wasn’t the first time he had been exposed to magical ordinance, but he had never been on the receiving end before. He looked back to Gilda then to Rarity, who was trembling on the floor.

“Come on,” he said, softly, pulling Rarity to her hooves beneath the cloak. “Let’s get you home.”

“Y-Yes, please… I-I… I would like that v-very much. Is he-”

“Don’t think about it.”

His words brought Rarity no comfort. There was a sick curiosity in her mind, egging her to look back at the carnage, but she refused. She held solace beneath the dark embrace of the cloak as the three exited the room. Gilda closed the metal door behind them, creaking until it latched shut with a final, loud click.

“Did we at least get a confession?” Gilda’s eyes locked with the Ghost’s.

“Yeah, we... did?” The Ghost craned his next to peer back into the blackened room. His keen eyes found the magic stone Rarity brought with her scattered to bits beside the blast mark. He cursed to himself before turning back to Gilda.

“Great," Gilda huffed. "So how did General Tightwad find out?”

“I think he’s tying up loose ends.” The Ghost kept his cloak draped over the now calming Rarity, who greedily clung to it. “He’s been able to secure the funds he needs to buy off the port authority and launch his attack, so what use does he have for ponies like Serenade?”

“Or the rest of the bigwigs who worked with him…” Gilda’s eyes glazed over, the possibility of even more carnage weighing on her mind.

“Maybe. Who knows what he’s planning between now and the attack, but he doesn’t have the money yet. He can’t go through with his plan now without incriminating himself.”

“But why now,” Gilda asked, her wings flared out. “Why didn’t he off Plunder at the gala, or earlier?”

“I don’t know, something must’ve changed. Maybe he felt emboldened, or threatened by Serenade’s absence.”

“Bold enough to cook somepony alive,” Gilda stated, earning a firm hush from the Ghost who motioned to Rarity. “I’m just saying he’s going off the deep end.”

“We’re not going to know for sure unless we can get some insight into his next plan. Any leads we could’ve gotten through Serenade are-”

“Up in smoke?”

“Stop it,” the Ghost said through his teeth. “But, yes.”

“I have something.”

The Ghost and Gilda’s eyes turned to Rarity, now free of her trembling and standing with some level of dignity. Her face was tired, eyes half-lidded from the exhausting emotional roller coaster she just endured. She closed the distance between them and produced a single, finely printed envelope from her saddlebag. It glided in her magical grasp to the space between the three.

“This arrived shortly before I left to meet you. It bears Shield Wall’s seal of office.”

“What is it?” The Ghost stared at the envelope as it twinkled in the aura of blue magic. It unfolded and spilled its contents out into the open air.

“It’s an invitation,” Rarity said, her voice weak. “He’ll be hosting a party at his estate tonight. Several ponies are invited, but I can only imagine what nefarious dealings he has planned as ‘entertainment’.”

“It seems short notice, doesn’t it?” The Ghost eyed the parchment quizzically,

“Yes, and that concerns me, even more so that I was invited. He probably suspects I’ve caught on to his scheme.”

“You don’t think he’s gonna cook you like Plunder, do you?” Gilda’s words earned a tired glare from the Ghost.

“No, but…” Rarity fought back the shudder in her spine. “I’m sure he has it out for me. Nevertheless, I must attend.”

“What?” The Ghost gasped. “You can’t go, it’s not safe.”

“No, it isn’t, but he will be caught off guard. If he tries to… ‘cook’ me then I will rely on you to save me from the flames, yes?”

The Ghost could do nothing but nod in agreement. This new development had left them all without options and he knew it. He turned to Gilda, who returned a worried glance and a shrug, before approaching Rarity.

“If you’re absolutely sure you can do it, then I’ll back you up, but be careful. If Shield Wall is willing to kill his own supporters, who knows what he’ll do to you?”

“I know,” Rarity replied as she pulled the cloak from her withers and returned it to the Ghost. “But I fear for those who will attend, as well. We can’t afford to do nothing.”

The Ghost secured the cloak as the three retreated through the tunnels. Following the winding path gave him time to think. It seemed almost unreasonable for Shield Wall to act in the way he did. Killing Serenade, a surprise party, luring Rarity into harm’s way, all before he even secured Aristo’s investment. He thought to consult with Darrox, but tense memories convinced him otherwise. To him, the only thing to do now would be to find a new perspective, somepony who could tell them what Shield Wall’s plan was. The light of the sun had faded, and only the glow of street lamps seeped through the entrance to the tunnels as the three exited.

“The party will start within the hour,” Rarity stated, her eyes on the large clocktower. “I will be wearing a blue gown, I’ll need you to cover me as I unravel Shield’s plans for the party.”

“I still don’t like this.” The Ghost kept a firm gaze on Rarity. The unicorn smiled and stepped to his side.

“Neither do I, but we have no choice.” Rarity paused before a soft smile formed on her lips. “It’s hardly the same as our impromptu spa trip, though, isn’t it?”

“I…” The Ghost was stunned by her words. He nervously glanced from her to Gilda and back again before the pieces all fell together in his mind. The worry melted away, leaving room for a warm laugh as he shook his head.

“I am thoroughly embarrassed,” he finally said through the last of his chuckle. “Maybe next time I’ll get her a mask, too.”

“Don’t,” Rarity stated. “I’m glad to know it’s you.”

With that, Rarity turned and sped off through Canterlot. The Ghost and Gilda took their leave as well and scaled a nearby building before making their way across the rooftops. Gilda nervously glanced at him as they traveled.

“I, uh… I goofed it up, didn’t I?”

“Nah, G, I did,” the Ghost said. “I didn’t even think she would recognize you. Besides, who’s she going to tell?”

“I’m still sorry. It’s was a rookie mistake.”

“We’re both rookies, Gilda. Serenade beat me the first time we fought.”

“That’s right!” Gilda let out her rough cackle, reveling in the thought. “You got whooped by the prissy one.”

“Stabbed by the prissy one,” he corrected with a laugh. “Now let’s see how I fare against the next one.”

“Which one?” Gilda looked to the Ghost puzzled as they picked up their pace, rushing toward the castle.

“The one who let all this happen.”

Midnight Gavel sat in his large, red leather chair as he faced out toward Luna’s shimmering night. The blue aura of his magic orbited a glass and decanter around his slouched form. He poured and brought the now warm liquid to his mouth as he drained the glass in one go, the clinking of ice cubes ringing out across his large and posh office. All around him were shelves of scrolls, dated and cataloged, detailing every single case the Chief Magistrate had ever presided over. Between the shelves on one side was a row of windows, while on the other were pieces of fine art and stone busts. One of the busts, the largest one, was carved in his likeness and sat at the opposite end of the room.

Another ice cube was produced from an enchanted drawer in his desk, chilled smoke billowing out from the drawer and blooming across the floor before being shut with a loud bang. Dark liquid filled the glass again as it was brought to its wielder’s lips. His tired eyes shifted, watching reflections in the open window.

“Have you come for me? To claim me like the jaws of death?”

The Ghost stepped out from the shadows soundlessly, crossing to the center of the room from a second open window. The wispy black mass flowed with each step and Gavel summoned the strength to turn his luxurious seat to face him. The sight of Gavel upon his leather throne cut into the Ghost like a razor. Before him sat the pony behind his enemy’s supposed invulnerability, the very words drawn from his quill made fact. The Ghost’s death may have been fabricated by Shield Wall, but it was signed and officiated by the proper pony now smirking at him. A click came from the Ghost’s clenched jaw as his gut tightened.

“I won’t be the one to kill you, Mr. Gavel.” The Ghost spoke with a low rumble in his voice.

“Of course not, you’re a hero,” Gavel mocked before taking a long, loud gulp of his drink. “To think you’d come for me before Sh-... before him.”

“I’ve come to make you pay for your crimes, Gavel. Your abuse of the courts has gone on for long enough, and too many ponies have-”

“Oh, give it a rest!” Gavel shouted from his chair, flailing a foreleg in front of him as his expression soured. “Do you know how many pretentious speeches I’ve had to endure over the years? He would always prattle on and on about a better Equestria. A better world! It’s exhausting.”

The Ghost stood dumbfounded. He had expected a melodramatic duel of wits, not the slurring of whatever sad creature sat before him. He took a step forward to get a better look, but the reeking scent of booze almost pushed him back.

“You’re drunk,” he stated.

“Yes… yes, I believe I am.” Gavel played with the now warm glass held in his aura. “All the easier for you to apprehend me, yes?”

“Celebrating?”

“Ha!” Gavel leaned forward and placed the decanter on the desk. “One does not break out the Baltimare Dry for that. That poor town won’t be celebrating much, either, if he has anything to say about it.”

“What happened?”

“‘What happened’?” Gavel sat up, spilling the decanter onto the floor. “You think you can show your face again, start brutalizing our mercenaries, then drive Shield Wall absolutely bonkers and just ask me ‘what happened’?”

The decanter spun around before being hurled through the air at the Ghost. He caught it in his cloak before the full glass of gin came hurtling toward him, colliding with his face.

“Score!” Gavel cried out at the strike as the Ghost wiped his face clean.

A tendril wrapped around his foreleg and squeezed. In a flash, Gavel was dragged across the desk and tossed to the ground. The cloak held its grip as the Chief Magistrate was soon pinned to the floor, his muzzle buried in the carpet. He struggled beneath the Ghost’s weight, but could only manage to flail and curse.

“It’s all your fault! You had to come back and make a mess of things. I put in twenty years. Twenty years! Now I can-”

“Control yourself, Gavel!”

“I’ll control my hoof into your face, you damned rapscallion!”

The strike, propelled by gin-induced rage, flew wildly off course before being grabbed by powerful forelegs. Gavel was lifted off the ground then slammed, face first, onto it again. The Ghost pinned the raging bureaucrat and wrapped his offending appendages with his cloak.

“You are going to testify before Royal Court, Gavel,” the Ghost ordered. “You will help bring Shield Wall to justice for conspiracy, murder, and every other terrible thing he’s done. Your support is gone and Serenade is dead. It’s over.”

“Let me guess, you milked him for information and hung him out to dry? Am I doomed to the same fate?”

“The only fate you’ll be resigned to is a very uncomfortable seat in your own courtroom, spilling the truth before the princesses.” The Ghost leaned in close, ignoring the stench of drink. “As for the drying, you can thank your fearless leader for that.”

Gavel froze. In almost an instant every ounce of drunken fury coming from within him evaporated and left only a tremble in its place. Gavel strained to face the Ghost, still pressed against the floor, as he felt the hairs of his coat stand up and brush against his silken attire. His lips quivered.

“Shield killed Serenade?”

“Yes,” the Ghost replied. “His sending stone was enchanted to explode on command.”

“H-He would never… we t-talked about it…” Gavel’s muscles lost their tension. The black lengths of cloth restraining his limbs slithered away, traveling across his body and back to their owner as the now trembling pony rose from the floor. The Ghost could only watch as Gavel began an incessant muttering and fumbled with his own hooves. His eyes held no particular focus, his ears were flat against his scalp, and there was the slightest tuck of his tail between his legs.

“Where is he,” Gavel asked, soberly.

“At his home. He’s about to throw a party for all of his old friends.”

“No, no, no, no,” Gavel mumbled, rapidly approaching the Ghost. “You cannot let him go through with it. Do you know what he will do to them?”

“Something terrible, I’m sure-”

“No!” Gavel shouted, his hooves firmly pressed against the Ghost. “You have no idea how much dirt he has on the Canterlot nobility, dirt that I found for him! Counselor Stirrup’s offshore accounts, Morning Dew’s addictions, even Dutchess Splendant’s lost husband. If he does not kill them, then he will reveal their secrets to the world, starting with this city. The nobility are vital to Canterlot’s operations, and without them the city will cease to function.”

“So he spills the beans on the upper crust’s misdeeds and cripples Canterlot.”

“Yes! Yes, and if he does then nothing can stop him from rallying the support he needs for his coup!”

“You mean the attack,” the Ghost leaned in. “If this all happens consecutively, ponies will be scrambling for answers the crown won’t have. It’ll be chaos.”

“YES!”

“Will you give this testimony in court?”

Gavel stopped mid-sentence. The Ghost’s request made him slink away from him, wandering back towards the desk. He sat on his haunches, gave a long sigh, and forced his eyes to lock with his intruder’s.

“I cannot,” he said. “Everything I have told you is true, yes, but you cannot ask me to incriminate Shield Wall.”

“What?” The Ghost stamped forward, gritting his teeth. “Shield Wall is going to attack Equestria! He’s going to trap dozens at that party, kill Rarity, and do what he can to destroy the government. If you aren’t willing to stand against him then what’s the point of even telling me this? How can you do nothing?!”

“Because he is my friend!”

“Well sorry to burst your bubble, Gavel, but your friend is a megalomaniacal menace to Equestria!”

“He was not always so crude. There was a time when he was precise, efficient, and patient. Very seldom did he ever have one of his episodes, where the tedium of politics drove him mad, and not without something provoking him. Whether it was Peppercorn, or my former aide, or even that sergeant he obsessed over. No, he was sharp. He even used that sergeant’s old love, the poor Countess Glow, and the sob story he invented to persuade her and the nobles to support him for almost six years!”

“Abby… helped him?” The Ghost’s heart sunk into his gut, the very idea chilling his blood.

“Yes! Can you believe it? Even out of his impulses he still found the means to control the game… until you appeared.”

“Me?”

“Oh, he must have told you, your master? He and Shield Wall were what you might call bitter enemies. Archnemeses. It wasn’t until he tried to buy off the Dragon Lands was Shield Wall finally rid of that caped hooligan, but then you came along…”

Gavel rose to his hooves and stared the Ghost down, dead in the face, as the words poured out of him with a fervency.

“It had been twenty years! Shield Wall was bored, and so long as he remained bored he never even thought to go off and do idiotic things like bribe dragons. He stuck to the subtle art of political corruption, and it was great! But then you, just… you. If you had stayed in whatever hole you came from our plan would have been running smoothly and none of this mindless violence would need to happen!”

“You sure know how to pick your friends, Gavel.” The Ghost hid a smirk as Gavel groaned.

“Do not patronize me. Shield and I were ripping off the crown’s coffers since before you had your first mine.” Gavel watched the impact of his words twist the Ghost’s face with shock. “Yes, you twit, I know who you are, and so does he. It was so painfully obvious what game you were playing that we both knew we could handle you. Until you got Serenade, that is.”

“Congratulations, you solved the riddle,” the Ghost mocked, clapping his hooves together. “Good thing you won’t testify in court.”

“Does it even matter, now? No. By tomorrow morning, there may not even be a court, knowing how far gone he is.”

“He couldn’t seriously-”

“Attack tonight? Use one of the many teleportation sigils around his home and arrive in Horseshoe Bay, ready to lead his band of criminals? Oh, he could, Ghost, and he will. My only hope in telling you this is that you may be in time to save-... stop him.”

“Why would I save such a horrible pony, Gavel?”

“Because, despite all the pain, terror and evil he has wrought on Equestria, Shield Wall is still my friend.” Gavel’s gaze drifted to the floor as a tear rolled down his face. “Maybe you can do what I could not.”

With those last words, Midnight Gavel slumped to the floor. Whatever strength remained after his alcoholic binge had been snatched away by the swelling emptiness in his chest. The Ghost looked upon the depressing sight: Dark blue fur unkempt, the reek of booze, and the proof of his sincerity rolling down his sullen face. It hit him in that moment. Before the Ghost was not some grand architect of evil, but a lost soul desperately clinging to a better time. Any bitterness the Ghost once held for the sad story that was Midnight Gavel evaporated, lost to the night breeze. He crossed the room to him, careful to approach slowly and placed a hoof onto the somber pony’s shoulder. Gavel made no response to the action and continued to stare into nothing.

“You are as much a victim of his evil as any other.”

“I do not want your pity,” Gavel spat, though it lacked conviction. “You have come seeking justice, so just claim it.”

“No, this nightmare isn’t your fault,” the Ghost said, softly. “I can’t promise everything will end how you want it, but I will bring Shield Wall back to face justice. If you truly care for him, as a friend would, then consider doing the right thing for once.”

“You want me to send him to prison?”

“I want you to save him.”

Gavel didn’t even watch as the Ghost strode to the open window. From his position, he could see all of Canterlot and the surrounding properties beyond. He spied a small train of carriages traveling through the streets to a single, ornate mansion just beyond the castle walls. It was Shield Wall’s home.

The impending conflict meant little to him, though. As the Ghost looked out across the night sky his mind was fixed on Gavel’s words. Abby, the mare he fought for, had helped Shield Wall achieve his goals. The thought stung. Like a splinter in his heart he could feel the almost crippling sorrow dig deeper into him. He stepped out onto the ledge and almost didn’t notice the gust of wind brought by feathered wings.

“Hey, there are a lot of ponies heading to General Tightwad’s place. Whatever’s happening is going down now…” Gilda trailed off as she noticed the empty expression on her friend.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“I… help me get over there…”

Gilda picked up on his low, weary tone and obeyed. She held tight to the Ghost, spread her mighty wings, and dove off the tower. They glided as a dark cloud upon the wind, blending with Luna’s night and heading straight for the mansion.

Chapter 20: “I promise.”

The clinking of glass and soft mumblings from the crowd were hardly enough to mask the warm and resonant notes of the small orchestra. They were seated in the middle of the large dining hall, surrounding a large ice sculpture of Princess Celestia, and circled by a round table of refreshments as the guests orbited around them. From all around the creamy yellow room the melody of the band surrounded the guests, reaching all the way to the high ceiling, decorated with beams and the image a sprawling sun. Ponies on the second level looked over the balcony to those below, waving to friends and rushing down the grand staircase to meet them. Even down the branching hallways ponies were reveling in the festivities of the surprise party. The energy of the room was palpable, almost warm, but Rarity stood immune to its effects. She walked through the crowd with an almost timid pace. Every now and then her eyes shot to the ceiling just in time to watch something escape her gaze.

“Miss Rarity,” a loud, nasally voice called out, startling her. “How are you? I missed you at last year’s Fashion Week.”

“O-Oh yes, forgive me Hoity,” Rarity managed to stammer out for the grey and immaculate unicorn. “Life has been quite hectic these past months. Tirek, Twilight’s coronation, my work with the princesses, you understand.”

“I suppose,” Hoity sighed, taking a glass from a turquoise waiter beside him. “But you must come to the private showcase I’m hosting next month. The most insightful designers from Manehatten will be in attendance. It will be positively splendid!”

Rarity relished in the distraction from her mission, allowing her nerves to ease for a moment. But from above, in a dark corner of the ceiling, the flutter of a black mass brought her attention back to the grim task she was on.

“Yes, well I assure you I will do my best to attend. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there is some… business I must attend to.”

Hoity’s farewells fell on deaf ears as Rarity made a beeline up the grand staircase and to the corner of the second level. She pushed past, as calmly as she could, the small crowd of guests chatting along the banisters and finally settled into the corner. She peered out across the room, using her new vantage point to keep a lookout for their mutual enemy.

“How’s it looking?” A voice from above drifted down to her, barely a whisper.

“Not good. The turn out is… well, the nobility just can’t seem to ignore free caviar and champagne. If something happens-”

“We’ll stop it.”

“Of course, but… I can’t stop thinking about it. The lengths to which Shield Wall has gone, or will go, I never suspected he would be this dangerous.”

“Just focus on monitoring the guests, okay?” The voice said, calmly. “I’ll handle whatever scheme he has.”

Rarity looked up to her faceless confidant, only to find the ceiling beam devoid of anypony. Across the way, the Ghost crawled along the wooden supports and made his way out of the dining hall. The branching hallway was empty. At the end of the row was a single, white door against the warm yellow walls. He froze in place. The thought of opening that door had pierced his mind for six years, but only now had it become a terrifying task. After taking a glance behind him to ensure he was alone he began his long walk.

From within the room, behind the white door, a single pony sat before a large vanity, dressed in a deep blue gown. She delicately brushed the strands of ruby hair as they fell across her neck. A circle of fog formed on the glass as she sighed. She held a proper, dignified expression, but she couldn’t ignore the tightness in her chest. She didn’t want to be there. The night at the gala had wreaked havoc on her heart, squeezing it like a fruit and draining the emotion from it. Those eyes. No matter how much time she spent gussying herself up, distracting herself, the sight of those amber eyes bubbled up again. Her teal magic ripped the makeup from the vanity and hurled it across the room. She stood, vacant.

“Really…” she muttered. “Getting worked up over somepony, all because he…”

She paused, rolling over the next few words in her mind, afraid to hear them spoken.

“There is no reason to even suspect such a thing. That pompous, over-financed heir could never hold a candle to him! Why, the very thought that he might actually be…”

She paused again. Her teeth clamped down on her tongue, hoping the pain would distract her from the tears forming behind her eyes.

“Don’t, Abby, this will be the second time you had to redo your lashes. Just suck it up and be a big mare, like mother said.” Her declaration gave her legs the strength to march to the door. “Spearhead will be down there, we will meet up with Shining and Cadence later, and this night will be wonderful.”

The teal glow of her horn gripped the doorknob and twisted.

“Then maybe I will finally be able to sleep without-”

She paused as she came face to face with a black, almost amorphous shape. The two ponies locked eyes as Abby’s face drained of all emotion. The Ghost was stunned, his voice trapped behind a wall of fear as he stared into the sea green orbs he once longed for. His trance, however, was broken by a firm grip around his forehoof. He looked down to find the same teal aura encasing it. He looked up.

“Oh, no…”

Abby’s face went from empty to wrathful as she hoisted the Ghost into the air and through the door frame. The force of the throw sent him hurtling over the coffee table and against the wall. As he tried to recover, Abby shut the door behind her and took a fighting stance. Her horn was a brilliant glow of energy as her eyes locked onto her target.

“Leave me be, cretin! I don’t know what your purpose here is, but I want left out of your fight, whatever it is!”

“Ab-... Ma’am, please, I’m not here to fight you.”

The Ghost’s words came too late, as a blinding flash filled the room and his senses. Abby rushed her dazed opponent and, with quick hoofwork and a buck of her hips, flipped him over her back and onto the floor. He coughed at the impact, air rushing from his lungs as she pinned him to the ground.

“Speak, now, lest I have Prince Armor come and pull your words out by force!”

“I-... I c-can’t…” the Ghost gasped, clinging to what little breath he had. “I can’t b-believe you can still… still do that.”

“What do you mean?” Abby looked to her captured guest with a face scrunched in confusion.

To the Ghost, this was as good a time as any. He slowly brought a hoof to his face, slow enough to not risk another beating, and tugged at the black fabric. As the mask was pulled from his face, Abby stumbled and fell back against the floor, as if struck by a great wind. The Ghost sat up, letting his silver locks fall and his eyes catch Abby’s in their gaze.

“Lord Aristo? But how are… no.” Abby felt the tears return again, knowing this time there was no stopping them.

Silver’s regained breath was, once again, knocked out of him from the impact. Abby wrapped her hooves around him and tackled him to the floor. She was sobbing, babbling incoherently as black streaks stained her yellow fur. Silver hugged back, holding tight. They stayed there for a few moments, allowing the world to pass around them as, for the first time in years, they both felt some measure of happiness.

“H-How did… I… I didn’t know… I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sorry, sorry,” Abby lamented into Silver’s shoulder.

“It wasn’t you, Abby. It could never be you.” Silver helped her to her hooves, supporting her wobbling body as they stood.

“What h-happened to you,” Abby hiccuped. “It’s been years… and that cloak. Where have you been?!”

“On an island. I was left in the ocean by Shield Wall. He… well, it’s a long story.”

“Shield Wall, but how?” Abby held tighter to Silver’s forelegs. “He’s been campaigning for an investigation into your death for years. I-I met with his colleagues to-”

“To guilt-trip them into helping him?”

“W-What are you saying, Silver?”

“Shield Wall is dangerous, Abby. He beat me, threw me in the ocean, and has been working to start a war with Griffonstone. Those “colleagues” were members of his conspiracy, the same one that tried to kill Fancy Pants at the gala.”

“But the gryphon militia, the speech I gave, the memorial service, you’re saying it was all… fake?”

“You… didn’t know?”

“Of course not! Silver, my love, I thought you were dead. Shield Wall helped console me for years after you disappeared, he was nothing but a friend, but I never suspected he was to blame. Is he truly so vicious?”

“You don’t know the half of it. Where is he? Does he know you’re here?”

“I would imagine so, he invites me to all of his parties. What’s happening?”

“We have to leave,” Silver said, pulling Abby towards the door. “Something terrible is going to happen here and we don’t know what. I’ll get you to Rarity so-”

“Rarity? Miss Rarity is working with you?”

“Yes, but please, we have to hurry.”

“Unhoof me you scandalous servitor! Where are you taking me?”

Silver and Abby halted as the door to the room was thrown wide open by a turquoise pony. He dragged Rarity into the room by the flare of his horn, releasing her after he shut the door and locked it with a second spell. Rarity landed on her flank, pouting as she dusted herself off and stood. She caught sight of Abby and Silver.

“Oh my, Countess. I hadn’t suspected that… wait. He was coming here for you?” Rarity’s face went from agitated to ecstatic in an instant. “Ooh! It’s just like one of my stories. The daring prince returns for his fair maiden. Countess, you have no idea how lucky you are to be living the dream.”

“Yes, yes, all well and good,” the servant cut off. In a flash of sickening green magic, the visage melted away to reveal Darrox’s true form.

“Darrox?” Silver stood stunned at his master’s arrival. “What are you doing here? I thought you… well, you know.”

“Nevermind that, my boy. I have brought Miss Rarity here because a situation has developed downstairs. The guests are being evacuated and the guards are closing in around the estate. We only… oh, forgive me madam.”

Darrox looked to Abby, shaking from the changeling’s brilliant display and unhindered words, before giving a nod.

“Countess Glow, I am Darrox, young Silver’s tutor. He has told me many wonderful stories about you.”

Abby hesitantly extended a hoof to the changeling, keeping an eye on the swirling color upon his chitin. She said nothing as she made contact with his hoof and withdrew quickly. Behind them, a hard knock upon one of the windows rang out into the room. Silver turned his head just in time to see Gilda crash through the glass and frantically call out to them.

“You guys gotta get lost! Guards are pouring out of the city and surrounding the house. If we don’t…” Gilda took stock of the sight before her, pausing in her haste. “So, is this the babe?”

“Gilda!” Silver blurted out before Darrox stepped forward and cut him off.

“Miss Gilda is right, we must evacuate the house at once. Miss Rarity, are you capable of teleportation? Perhaps gateways or the like?”

“Well, I may have my merits but I am no Twilight Sparkle. You would be better off casting your own portal through that window.”

“What about the guests,” Silver inquired. “Has Shield Wall done anything to them?”

“I don’t believe so,” Rarity returned. “One minute the party was going as expected, then the next everypony was being rushed out of the room. I haven’t seen Shield Wall anywhere.”

“If the guards have come, then we should go to them,” Abby stated. “They must be here to stop whatever is going on downstairs.”

“Sorry, babe, they are what’s going on downstairs,” Gilda said, keeping watch through the broken window.

“A trap, then.” Darrox rubbed his chitin-covered chin. “Clever to lure us with the threat of impending danger. He must have known Gavel would share his suspicions with you.”

“Wait… you knew?” Silver directed toward his master.

“I had to, my boy, you were walking a dangerous road and I needed to be sure you were safe, so I followed you.”

“Did he just say he followed us?” Gilda poked her head out from the window with an incredulous look.

“Okay, look, we can’t stay here.” Silver dismissed his confusion and pulled his mask back over his face. “If guards are surrounding the house then we only have a few minutes. Rarity, please stick with Abby and make sure she gets out of here. Darrox, do you have Gorn’s sending stone?”

“Of course, but what do…” Darrox said before giving Silver a knowing look, smirking as he passed over the stone.

“Gilda, I need you to take this and get Rarity and Abby on the ship.” Silver tossed the sending stone to the gryphon, who caught it in one claw. “Head to the roof and flag Gorn down.”

“Which will leave us to capture Shield Wall,” Darrox interjected, stepping to his pupil’s side. “Are you ready?”

“I’m more concerned if you can even keep up,” Silver snarked. “I’m… I’m sorry for what I said.”

“You were forgiven before you even left the room, but there will be a few much needed lessons in your future.”

“Finally…”

The group all turned toward the haunting voice. There, in the doorway, stood Shield Wall. He walked into the room, flanked by guards on either side, and began to close in around his caught prey.

“I must be the luckiest pony in the world. All of you, here, just when I feared you had escaped.” Shield Wall turned his gaze to Darrox. “Hello, hive filth. You have aged quite poorly.”

“Perhaps, but I now look as haggard and decrepit as your blackened heart, Shield Wall,” Darrox fired back.

“Ah, the old wit!” Shield Wall let out a deep, sinister chuckle. “I have missed that! I missed it so much. Just for that I will allow you a choice: turns yourselves over and relinquish Abundant to me, and I will not kill you here and now.”

“Not happening,” the Ghost stated. “The only one turning themselves over here will be you.”

“Ah, my lord! To think one so refined as you would dare lower yourself to wear such rags!” Shield feigned surprise, mockingly placing a hoof to his heart. “Though I suppose your kind has a knack for choosing the wrong side.”

“Keep your insults to yourself,” the Ghost said, tensing his jaw. “Your attack on the Bridle Shores won’t succeed. We won’t let you kill hundreds of ponies for your own twisted game.”

The guards flanking Shield Wall began to stir. They shot worried and confused glances between each other, muttering amongst themselves. Shield Wall stamped his hoof on the floor, demanding silence, before speaking in a rumbling voice.

“You will not live to see my future, Ghost, and neither will they if you continue to resist me. Surrender, or die.”

Shield Wall’s words shook the Ghost to his core, sending a biting chill through his entire being. But, to his side, he found a soft smile from his master, who shot him a glance. The Ghost returned it and smirked.

“Think we can take 'em?” The Ghost reached for his cloak.

“Oh, most certainly.” Darrox charged his horn, his rainbow splintered chitin radiating with it's power.

Darrox’s horn exploded in a brilliant green flash, searing into the eyes of the guards before them. The Ghost unleashed a torrent of strikes from his cloak. The black tendrils whipped out along the crowd, colliding with heads and chests, slicing into the blinded guards. While the two-pony offensive held the guards back, Gilda grabbed hold of her two charges and bolted for the window. She clambered to the opening before a golden aura appeared before her, the loud popping sound announcing Shield Wall’s teleportation. Gilda bared her claws and swiped. A barrage of claw strikes landed against the twinkling barrier erected by Shield Wall before it expanded outward, pushing everypony in the room against the wall. Everypony, except Abby.

“Abundant, please listen to me,” Shield pleaded.

“No! Stay away from me, you monster!” Abby fired bolt after bolt of energy, colliding against a second barrier around Shield’s body. “You killed him! You took Silver from me and ruined my life!”

“I did what I could to protect you,” he returned, grunting in pain from the impacts. “That lowborn cretin would never have been enough for you.”

"He was everything to me!" A final flash of magic knocked Shield against the wall, dispelling his barrier. Everypony began to recover as the Ghost ran to Abby, sweeping her up and helping her away from the battle. The group trampled the pile of guards as they rushed out the door and into the hallway.

“We will need another exit strategy,” Darrox announced.

“There’s a second staircase just over here,” Rarity pointed back toward the dining hall. “We’ll be able to reach to roof through there. Come on!”

With Rarity leading the way, the five fugitives charged through the hallway, nearly smashing through the door leading to the dining hall. They were met, however, with the sight of over two dozen guards waiting for them, even more on the lower level. A thundering gallop of hooves echoed from behind them, back towards the room, and very soon they were surrounded on all sides. Shield Wall stepped out from the ranks of guards and wiped the blood from his snout.

“I won’t give you another chance,” he spoke, cold and vicious. “Submit.”

The quintet stood firm against the growing pressure surrounding them. Gilda scanned the crowd, searching for an opening before her gaze fell upon the large ice sculpture in the center of the room. She leaned down between Rarity and Abby.

“Hey, see that ugly hunk of ice,” she whispered. “You two think you can make it… you know, go boom?”

The two looked back, then to each other, sharing a smile as their horns glowed in unison. A light began to glow from within the ice sculpture, growing brighter and brighter. It caught the attention of the guards who watched the welling light spread throughout the entire frozen form. Small drops of water fell to the floor before the statue cracked and released a shockwave of power across the room. Ice shards were sent streaking in every direction, knocking some off the guards of their hooves and wounding others. Shield Wall erected a barrier to protect himself while those under his command either fell to the floor or retreated on their own. The quintet took cover behind the banister, now riddled with slowly melting projectiles sticking out of the wood.

“A little warning next time!” The Ghost shouted.

“That was marvelous,” Darrox cheered. “Truly, a spectacular display if ever I saw one!”

“Please don’t encourage them.”

From behind them, Shield Wall staggered over to one of the prone guards, lifting him up with magic. Others began to rise as he spoke.

“Ensure the countess is not harmed,” he seethed. “Kill the rest.”

“B-But sir, that’s Miss Rarity, you can’t-”

“I can,” Shield said, twisting the guard’s head back. “And you will.”

Before Darrox and the Ghost were able to fully stand, the two were tackled over the balcony by a stampeding Shield Wall. Darrox broke free and fluttered to the floor upon his wings. The Ghost parachuted down and landed almost silently. Shield Wall surrounded himself in his golden aura and steadily hovered until his hooves clacked against the polished floor. As the sounds of battle rang out above them, the three stared at each other.

“I must admit, my words to describe such a moment seem to fail me,” Shield Wall sneered. “Can you imagine my delight in finding not one, but two moronic vigilantes coming to put a stop to my plans. Like Hearth’s Warming Eve.”

“Enough of your prattling,” Darrox spat, taking a step forward. “This day is twenty years too late, Shield, and you cannot escape fate again.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it. You and your little dog, here, have been the most fun I have known since our little bout in Manehatten. I would loathe to miss this.”

“There’s still a chance for you to surrender,” the Ghost announced. “We won’t take this any further than needed.”

“You already did, Aristo. I was almost convinced of your facade until Serenade went missing, then it became clear to me. Your apprentice got sloppy, bug, and I cannot help but thank him for it.”

“Last chance,” the Ghost said, lowering his stance.

“Consider it wasted.” Shield Wall snickered as his horn glowed to life.

The three ponies lunged at each other. They ignored the fallen guards surrounding them and the battle raging upstairs, consumed by their endless struggle. The Ghost and Darrox moved to flank Shield Wall. A barrage of precision strikes was unleashed along his midsection, deflected by both Shield Wall’s own martial skills and a second, magical set of hooves conjured by his magic. Before he could react, though, Shield felt something coil around his hind leg and pull him across the floor.

The Ghost whipped his cloak back, and Shield Wall with it, before somersaulting over and slamming his nemesis back onto the floor. Shield rolled over but was met with a spinning wheel of strikes to his face and chest as he tried to stand. The blows were too quick for him to get a spell off, jostling his body with each strike, until a second coiling tightness met his midsection. Shield took the chance and fired a single, devastating beam of magic at this attacker, forcing the Ghost to recoil and shield himself with his cloak.

The black mass flew back against the wall and fumbled to the floor among the other wounded ponies. Darrox swooped in, buzzing around Shield Wall and firing needle-like bursts into his opponent. Shield flailed and cursed the assault. His golden aura caught hold of Darrox’s forehoof, but lost its grip when he transformed into a small bird, fluttering past his head with a mocking little chirp before changing back and bucking his nemesis with two powerful legs. Shield Wall flew against the ruined ice sculpture and before Darrox could charge again, he caught the changeling in a golden aura. Darrox gasped for breath as his chitin fell in on itself, the armored exterior used as a weapon against him.

The Ghost looked up at the horrid display. The memory of the Compassion, being held against his will by the same spell, sent a terrible rush through his brain. He stood and launched the end of his cloak out to Shield Wall, wrapping his horn in it and breaking the spell. Shield struggled against the oppressive fabric as another bolt constricted around his forehooves. He tugged at the cloak, sending the Ghost sliding forward in a desperate attempt to break free.

“Darrox, do something quick, I can’t hold him!”

Darrox took the initiative and flew down to Shield Wall’s rear. A green mist protruded from his horn and surrounded Shield Wall’s hooves, melting the floor and causing them to sink. The sensation crept up Shield’s legs as he snarled back at the duo. He sucked in a breath and, with a powerful grunt, yanked on the cloak and sent the Ghost flying through the air. Shield Wall used his improvised flail to knock Darrox off his hooves and flying back over the table with the Ghost in tow. Shield Wall removed his hooves from the still bubbling floor and watched as his guards on the upper level being pushed back by the trio above. His horn sang out with a low hum as swirling power encircled it.

The Ghost managed to stand just as Shield’s horn reached peak capacity. He followed the unicorn’s gaze to Gilda, who was launching herself through the guards and carving a path to the exit for the two unicorns covering the rear. A brilliant gold ball of magic formed at the tip of Shield Wall’s horn. The Ghost wrapped his forehoof in his cloak and, as the attack launched, leapt up into its path and spiked it back down with his shielded hoof, creating a shower of golden light that cascaded around the ruined dining hall. As the Ghost landed, stumbling, he was met with Shield Wall’s hoof colliding with his face.

Darrox watched his apprentice skid across the floor from the impact. He watched the conflict above, with the trio pinned down by ever encroaching guards. He turned to see Shield Wall closing on the dazed Ghost and a sense of desperation took hold in his heart. Darrox cracked his neck, took a stance, and launched himself at Shield Wall. The rocketing changeling lifted the vice general from his hooves and slammed him onto the base of the ice sculpture. From there, the two life-long enemies traded hooves. Darrox was fast and nimble with his strikes. He landed his hits to Shield’s jaw, his throat, and the gaps between his ribs with uncanny accuracy, but much of his strength had left him during the fight. Shield took advantage of his exhaustion and landed a single, chitin-shattering strike with his hindleg to Darrox’s sternum. He collapsed onto the base as the sensation of broken bone shot through his entire system. He was short of breath. His eyes wandered to the Ghost, wearily bringing himself to his hooves.

“This is what I always wanted to see,” Shield Wall huffed before delivering a powerful backhoof to Darrox, green blood following the strike. “You, a lesser creature, kneeling before your better.”

“There are no lesser creatures, Shield,” Darrox wheezed, wiping the blood from his mouth. “Only creatures whose hubris makes them so.”

Shield’s weary, smug face twisted into a tapestry of fury at Darrox’s words. His horn charged, the light spilling over the Ghost, who hobbled to the two. His eyes were met by Darrox’s warm smile as the light focused into a single point. The Ghost, with a pained shout, poured all of his strength into the whip of his cloak, desperately reaching out to stop the inevitable strike. The light on Shield’s horn released and in the wake of the flash was a single, smoldering hole through Darrox’s glossy black chest. Just as the cloak sliced into Shield Wall’s face, forcing him off the sculpture’s base, the Ghost lost all his strength.

Shield Wall winced at the fresh wound on his cheek. His eyes locked on the stunned Ghost, but before he could close the distance between them, three balls of iron came hurtling through the walls of the mansion. The shouts of the airship outside emanated into the dining hall and forced the guards to retreat at the sudden bombardment. Another volley crashed through and Shield locked his gaze on Abby. The countess saw her tormentor and began to flee towards Gilda, but was cut off by the loud pop of Shield's teleportation. He wordlessly grabbed her and pulled her to the grand staircase, ignoring her screams. He produced a command stone from his pocket and brought it to life, opening a secret tunnel in the stairway. Abby cried and pulled back with all her strength, helpless against the furious strength Shield Wall now commanded her with.

The Ghost, wounded as he was, could hardly move. Not even the cries of Abby wrested him from his sullen trance as she was pulled deeper into the tunnel, watching as she was swallowed by the darkness and the passage closed behind her. He crawled to Darrox. The explosions of wood and debris were almost silence to his senses as he painfully climbed the base of the sculpture to his master’s body. There he cradled his head.

“It… it hit…” the Ghost mumbled, fumbling his hoof over the wound.

“My boy,” Darrox wheezed. “Please…”

The changeling placed a hoof on the pony’s. For a moment the two sat silently as the roaring cannon fire and the sounds of battle left them, the air becoming still. Gilda and Rarity, scuffed and bruised, came rushing down the stairs before halting at the sight. Rarity’s eyes filled with tears as she choked on her breath while Gilda stood in dumbfounded silence, afraid to say anything. Only their labored breathing permeated the sullen silence.

“I did have a family,” Darrox finally whispered. “Back in my hive. We were raised to be evil, true, but I still loved them. Tarsi and Alate, my sisters, and my brother, Labrum. They were so scared when I told them what I was doing, that I wanted to help ponies. Labrum took it the hardest, ever the loyalist-”

Darrox gave a loud, wet cough as green blood spat up across his mouth. The Ghost could do nothing but watch his master’s suffering.

“Alate was the one who let me go. She always believed changelings had a greater purpose than just… just drones in the Queen’s war. As soon as the colors appeared on my chest I knew she was right, so I kept going… by the hive, I haven’t seen them in decades. I failed them as much as I failed myself.”

His hoof squeezed the Ghost’s, whose eyes had become bloodshot. They met in their gaze as Darrox summoned what was left of his fleeting strength.

“No matter our differences, no matter our desires, never lose sight of what brought you here. To this moment. Not a cry for vengeance, but the desire to do good. Promi-… promise…”

The soft pale glow of his eyes faded away. His limbs fell limp against the Ghost’s body and began to curl up as a final, ragged breath escaped his mouth. The Ghost fumbled around Darrox’s body, searching for a pulse or breath or any sign that his fears were not real, but he struggled in vain. The Ghost could feel it in the pit of his stomach. His lips quivered as he pulled his shaky hooves away from his master, his tears proof of losing the fight against his own heart.

“I promise.”

Chapter 21: “Everything I am… I owe to you.”

The crew of the Tornado shambled around the cliff’s edge, the rumbling airship a short distance away. It had been less than an hour since the EUP lost track of them along the frigid airways of the Foal Mountains. The nighttime chill was just overbearing enough for the Recon Corps to break their pursuit for fear of losing their wings to frostbite. A cloudless sky hung over the mountain range, the dark tapestry glittering with pinpricks of light as the half-moon continued its upward ascension. Not a word arose from the somber crew.

Steelhorn hefted bundles of dry wood off of the deck. He walked precariously across the gangplank connecting the Tornado to the cliff, tensing his neck in bitter resistance of the urge to look down. Gilda received the wood and stacked the logs together with the rest of the crew’s help. After only a few minutes, the pile was stacked to a good height and covered in what dry brush they could find. Despite even trying, it looked almost like a bed.

The entire crew jumped at the sound of the cabin door opening. Gilda’s trained eyes saw Silver, mask pulled from his face, walking slowly from within the ship with Rarity hustling behind him. From within the cabin a torrential hail of shouting and harsh words flew towards them at a painful volume as the crew sighed and groaned from their captain’s unrestrained anger. Silver was lead away from the assault by Rarity, her hooves draped over his shoulders and guiding him towards the railing of the airship. The vacant stallion hardly even noticed the great height of the cliff as he crossed the gangplank. He was far too busy with the package on his back, balancing the cloth-wrapped mass and consumed by the memory of how it arrived there and how it felt much heavier with each step. The crew made way for the two ponies and Silver approached the wooden bed. Slowly, with a care one would show to the most precious and fragile of artworks, he lifted the swaddle of cloth from his back. Rarity moved in to help and projected a small aura of her magic, only to receive a piercing, bloodshot stare from Silver. She relented and simply watched. From the side, the soft glow of a torch emanated from Gilda’s claw and was passed to Silver.

“Is there anything anypony would like to say?” Rarity announced to the crowd. They shuffled in place and held their gaze to the ground, letting the night wind speak for them.

“Rusty want speak for bug pony,” the diamond dog spoke in his squeely, gravelly voice. Rarity leapt a little at the sight as he stepped out from the small crowd. Rusty flinched at her reaction but continued his approach.

“Rusty always gem hunter for pack. Rusty know gems best and Rusty do well, but that’s all pack want. All anyone want.” He fumbled his paws together, eyeing the bundle of cloth. “Even in crew, gryphon captain want Rusty to find treasure, to help make gryphon money and sail the seas, but not bug pony. Bug pony never ask Rusty to find gems or hurt ponies. Bug pony just talk. When bug pony sick, he tell Rusty story of Dimondia, diamond dog home, and how all dogs can be more than gem hunter. Rusty never heard someone say Rusty can be more. It… it felt good. Rusty want to be more, for bug pony, because bug pony said he believe in Rusty. Believe in… me.”

Rusty stood with his small, spiked tail between his legs. A light whimper rose from his throat as Steelhorn placed his meaty arm over the diamond dog’s shoulders and lead him back to the crowd. Silence threatened to consume them again, before Gilda gave a huff.

“I guess I got something to say, too.” Gilda took a step towards the wooden bedding. She gave a long sigh, releasing a visible cloud of hot breath into the night.

“I’m not that great of a gryphon. Heck, I’m not that great of an anything, really. I’ve drifted from town to town for as long as I can remember, never really wanting anything to do with anyone I met, even you guys. Because of that I… gave up on a lot of dreams.” Gilda shot a quick glance to Rarity, who smiled in return. “He gave me one of them. I got to go to the gala. Sure, it was for some weird plot to save the world or something, but… but I got to do it. Be there, look the part, feel the part. I hadn’t thought about wanting it for a long time, but out of nowhere he looks at me, says I’m lovely, buys me a gown and tells me he couldn’t do the plan without me. I’ve never been depended on before… I guess he believed in me, too.”

Gilda trailed off, staring at the unmoving white mass before feeling Rarity’s hoof gently rub her shoulder. Slowly, Gilda leans into her embrace and the two share a gentle hug in the silence. It was soon broken by a loud bang from the ship, startling everyone except Silver as a flurry of stomps rapped across the deck.

“Ye want ta hear a story?!” Gorn bellowed, lazily gripping the bottle in his claw. “How ‘bout tha one where some cocksure, self-righteous little twerp comes an’ makes a right mess of yer life, eh? That sound familiar?!”

He stamped across the gangplank, shaking the wood with each step, and made a beeline for the still unmoving Silver.

“Ye little runt! Have ye any idea jus’ how much he meant t’me? What I did fer ‘im?!” He screamed at the back of Silver’s head, spitting in between his words and tears. “I warned ‘im ye were a waste a’ time, that yer nothin’ but trouble.”

“Captain, have some manners!” Rarity stepped between Gorn and Silver, nose turned up to the reeking gryphon.

“Don’ tell me to ‘ave manners, missy! This rat’s tha one who got ‘em killed. Ain’t that right? You milk-suckin’, mopey little pansy! ‘Ooh, me lass be all alone an’ I can’t let anypony see tha roadmap on me back!’”

“Gorn! Get lost!” Gilda shouted at her captain with enough force to threaten an avalanche.

“Shove off, girlie! I been fightin wit’ ta Ghost since I was a youngin’. Darrox was a teacher ta me, too, so don’t go thinkin’ yer somethin’ special, Silver. I commanded his vessel, fought wit’ ‘im during the Badlands Siege, even carried ‘im out that fateful night when he ne’er returned! I kept ‘im alive, ye got ‘im killed!”

At this, Silver finally turned to face the belligerent captain, whose tarnished and puffed feathers fell as his eyes laid upon the tears streaming down Silver’s face. His brows were tensed and his jaw clenched.

“I did get him killed,” Silver said, fighting the tremor in his throat. “I tried to stop the fight before it started, and he died for it. It’s my fault. Mine, so there! Have your victory! It doesn’t change the fact that he’s dead and Shield Wall is still out there laughing it up. So do us all a favor: shut your trap and get ready to head out!”

The outburst knocked the fight out of Gorn. A small thud could be heard as the bottle hit the rocky floor beneath them, dropped from his claw and rolling away. He swallowed hard and opened his mouth to speak.

“W-Well ye still-”

“Save it,” Silver interrupted, holding his hoof to Gorn. “Just get the ship ready. Besides, if you’re lucky I’ll die tonight, too.”

Silver turned again toward the pyre as Gorn rounded up the crew, Gilda included, and walked back to the ship. Rarity, alone, stood at the sidelines and watched as Silver took up the torch in his hoof. He made slow steps towards Darrox’s body. He was grateful he couldn’t see the lifeless face of his master, having gotten his fill in the mansion. With a final step he came within range of the wood and held the flame aloft.

“Everything I am… I owe to you.”

The torch dropped onto the bed of wood and brush as the fire surged to life, engulfing the shrouded changeling. The sickening crackle of the wood echoed out across the walls of the mountain range and back to Silver’s ears. He shivered and, with a surge of his own, reared around and struck a large rock with his back hoof, cracking the surface of it. He huffed from his exertion, noticing too late that Rarity had stepped to his side.

“It’s not fair,” he whispered, resting on his haunches. “Six years ago Shield Wall killed Silver Spade, buried the truth of what happened to me. I fought so hard to have a chance to get it all back, but when I try it… it just doesn’t work. It doesn’t work! I miss them, Rarity. Shining, Abby... my dad. He’s taken so much from me, and just when I think I’ve got him, just when I think I’m about to have one victory he takes something else.”

“You still have a chance, Silver,” Rarity cooed. “That vile pony hasn’t won yet.”

“I should’ve listened to him. It should be me in that fire right now, not Darrox. He knew what to do, and if I’d listened to him then he’d still be here. I wish I could take his place.”

“I think you have.” Rarity reached behind and pulled the dark fabric of the cloak to Silver’s hooves. He held it for a moment, the somber realization coming to his mind, and stood to face the raging bonfire before him. The dancing flame reflected on Silver’s amber eyes and stretched toward the sky.

“This is why you left, isn’t it?” He spoke to the inferno, as if its crackling would give an answer. “You were willing to pay the ultimate price for Equestria, but you had to be sure somepony else could… be you.”

The fire seemed to stare into Silver’s very soul, it’s swirling orange limbs reaching higher and slicing into the night sky.

“I thought I could save Silver Spade, save everything I’d left behind, but I screwed up. I wanted it so badly, and when I thought I finally had it, I… I lost you. Without knowing it I traded you for a life that was already stolen from me. Stolen by him! You knew it, and without you there’s nopony else to do this.” He fumbled with the fabric in his hooves before releasing it, allowing it to flutter behind him in the cold breeze.

“I’ll do it, Darrox, I’m done holding on. I can’t spend my life chasing a second chance at moments long passed. Years ago, on the beach, you said you’d make me everything I needed to be to fight ponies like him in exchange for my soul. Well, now you can have it. This is my funeral just as much as it is yours.”

Rarity stood to watch Silver, standing before the building ashes of his mentor, pull the black mask over his face again. The cloak around him seemed to grow even darker against the wall of flame. She held a hoof to her mouth as the dark mass turned from the fire. Before her was hardly anything resembling the pony she had met in her shop, nor the hopeful champion of love she had come to know. The black shape walked closer, the fluttering cloak blocking view of the raging bonfire, and for a moment Rarity felt a twinge of fear as it strode past her. The bell of the ship called out to them, signaling their final departure.

Chapter 22: “What was his name?! I want to hear you say it!”

The air was a stiff mixture of salt and wind, with the sound of creaking boards and sloshing water along the hull. Even in the dead of night, the waters of the Celestial Sea churned with the same vigor they did all those years ago, as if knowingly protecting Equestria. Light was scarce along the deck, save for a small orb of light cast from a unicorn’s horn as she patrolled. The vessel rocked, back and forth, as the crew pony struggled to maintain balance and grasped onto the railing for support.

From the sides of the ship the pony could make out the silhouettes of other vessels. Their white sails billowed in the strong wind that pushed them along the coastline. Along the port side, off into the distance, the shimmering glow of Equestria’s greatest city stood as a beacon against the night, and at optimal range. She looked on and gave a sigh before giving the deck one final sweep and making her way to the illuminated captain’s cabin. The door heaved open with a creak, bathing the darkened deck with light before the unicorn stepped inside.

“Vice General,” she saluted, ignoring the sight before her. “We’ve come within firing range of Manehatten and are ready for bombardment. On your order.”

Her commanding officer sat behind an ornate wooden desk, sipping from a cup of steaming tea as he took in the news. Beside him, tied in coarse rope and bound to an equally ornate chair, was the mare from the party. The unicorn guard nervously avoided her piercing gaze and delivered her report stepping out, stepping out quicker than she came in. Once the door clicked shut and only the wind of the sea could be heard, the countess spoke.

“You’re a monster,” she spat at Shield Wall, jostling her ruby locks.

Shield Wall closed his eyes and sighed. The steaming cup left his lips and floated gently back down to its saucer, punctuating the soft chuckle in his throat as molten eyes met Abby’s fierce glare.

“My dear, if I had a bit for every time I have been called that over the past six years I would never have needed the nobles' support.”

“But why are you doing this?” Abby demanded. “What purpose does destroying Manehatten serve? I once thought you a good stallion, not one stricken by madness.”

“My darling countess,” Shield whispered, extending a hoof to Abby’s face as she desperately pulled away. “You both are beautiful and possess a pure heart, but you know nothing of strategy, or of Equestria’s needs.”

“It’s needs? Equestria doesn’t need another war.”

“That is all it needs!” Shield lurched toward the now whimpering countess, his barred teeth causing her to shrink into her seat. After a few ragged breaths Shield Wall’s face lost its tension and returned to its usual, focused expression.

“My dear, I cannot expect you to understand in one… eventful night, but I assure you all will be made clear in-”

“All that is clear is you are utterly insane,” she said without facing him.

Her defiance spoke louder than her words and Shield Wall felt the weight of it on his mind. It was an unusual emotion that surged within him, spreading out to the tips of his ears and into the depths of his gut. To him, he had done everything right. He had his warships, the plan was moving along perfectly, even his life-long nemesis laid dead miles away. All was as it should be, except for Abby’s utter defiance. The sight twisted his insides into a painful, wrathful knot.

“You… you ungrateful… I rescued you from a life of mediocrity and debasement! Had I allowed that meager whelp to live he would have pulled you into the very same filth from which he arose. You owe me, countess!”

“Owe you?” Abby lurched forward, ignoring the constricting binds. “I loved him! We shared a love the likes of which is utterly foreign to you! Is that why you took him from me?”

“I killed him because he was filth! An impudent, floundering pile of waste who far too often stepped above his station! Seen as Shining Armor’s equal, slithering into your heart, then being allowed the chance to succeed me. Me! His interference with the yak invasion I orchestrated was the final straw.”

Shield Wall crept forward. He held his golden eyes fixed on Abby’s face as she quivered from the sheer anger radiating from him.

“I killed him because he forgot his place. You should be grateful.”

Abby opened her mouth to speak before being cut off by the sound of screams from outside the cabin. The wooden walls shook violently as powerful booms echoed out around them. The galloping of hooves, ponies above barking orders, and the cracks of wood could all be heard as the door to the cabin flew open, threatening to be cast from its hinges.

“Vice General! We have a problem!”

The half moon hung at the peak of its journey across the sky. It’s soft glow reached down across the cascade of clouds beneath the wooded hull as it skirted along the surface. The aerial ocean seemed to glow in some parts from the light of cities beneath, helping the airship find its heading. The figure at the helm cried out his commands, sending the crew scurrying across the deck and bringing the fires of the airship’s balloon down. It sank into the clouds, enveloping it in the darkened mist before breaching the bottom. From below they could see the stretching lights of Manehatten cast their glow out over the Celestial Sea. The captain lifted a spyglass to his eye and peered out to the subtle divide between the city lights and the dark void of the nighttime sea.

“Aye, there they be,” Gorn announced. He passed the spyglass to his right, and a black-clad hoof took it from him. “Just as the picaroon said. Three ships, bearin’ Griffonstone colors, all movin’ into position along the coast.”

The pony peered through the glass and scanned the sight below. They were intimidating pieces of naval technology. Large, with sails to match, and sporting three imposing rows of cannons along their broadsides. The decks, however, seemed sparsely populated and the Ghost could only spot a hoofful of ponies working the controls.

“They’re understaffed,” he stated. “Enough ponies to get the ships moving, but not enough for an actual engagement. They must be relying on hit-and-run.”

“Then we have our chance,” Rarity piped up from beside them. “We can move in from behind and help the poor countess out of there.”

“We gotta stop those guns, though,” Gilda glided down from the crows nest, straightening an armored plate along her chest. “If we hit them in the ass hard enough, we can hit their powder stores and send them straight to Tartarus.”

“Him, darling, we can’t afford to harm the rest.”

“Eh, screw them, they knew what they were getting into.”

“We’re not killing the others.” The Ghost collapsed the spyglass and returned it to Gorn. “Once those cannons fire on Manehatten it’s over, so we need to do everything possible to keep that from happening.”

“Well we be outgunned six to one, I trust yer thinkin’ a somethin’ good.”

“We start at the flagship. The Tornado needs to go in fast and low to take their sails out before we can board. Gilda, Rarity and I will take the flagship and get Abby away from Shield Wall, so the rest of you need to keep the other two ships occupied however you can. With luck, the Manehatten Port Authority will be out there to make the arrests after we’re done.”

“There still be a whole messa’ guns on those ships. The Tornado ain’t fit to take that kinda beatin’.”

“Then do something crazy. I’m sure Darrox kept you around for something other than your pleasant attitude.”

Gorn’s cracked beak pulled back into a wicked smile. He sauntered over to the helm and spun the wheel hard, sending the Tornado hurtling down toward the ocean surface at a breakneck speed. The crew grasped onto the railing with all the strength they had, some gripping to each other. Rarity shouted obscenities at Gorn that were simply drowned out by his demonic cackling. All that could be heard was the rush of wind as the row of warships came closer and closer into view.

“Vice General! We have a problem!”

At the very instant the guard uttered her words she was pulled from the doorway by a sudden swipe of black. The door to the cabin banged against the frame as the sounds of shouting and cracking wood arose from outside. Shield Wall spared no time in rushing through the hanging door and out onto the deck. The image around him was chaos.

The ships had come out of alignment and began to drift along both sides of his own. From above, Shield Wall watched as a floating wooden hull stampeded through the towering masts of his small fleet, sending splinters and bits of sail cascading around him. He erected a force field as the airship screamed overhead, a loud cackle following its charge, and knocked part of the mast on top of him. On both sides his ships came under attack from rounds of cannon fire raining down upon them as figures leapt down to their decks.

Despite the rubble around him he could see two figures descend upon the guards on deck before him. One descended with a glittering aura of blue, firing off sharp bolts of magical energy and sending her enemies into the sea, while the other came careening into a crowd of them, colliding with the mass and scattering them like terrified bowling pins. Shield Wall lowered his barrier and focused its energy into his horn, before the sound of fluttering wings reached his ears. The same mass of black returned from above to send Shield Wall crashing through the door behind him with a powerful kick, back into the cabin. He skidded across the floor and collided with the desk.

Abby’s head whipped around to the now demolished doorframe of the cabin. Her breath left her chest as Shield Wall’s impact reverberated through the room and frightened eyes followed the path of his entrance, landing on the darkening light pouring into the cabin. There, standing before them both, was the answer to her silent prayers.

“Forgive the intrusion,” the Ghost said with a rumble in his voice. “Had I known you were entertaining company, I would have rescued her earlier.”

Shield Wall stumbled as his stood, wiping the blood from his mouth. He stared down the Ghost as the sounds of battle echoed around them.

“And had I known nobility would be joining me, I might have provided a more barbarous service at my estate, but I am glad you have come.”

“Then consider this an intervention, Shield Wall,” the Ghost said as he stepped forward. “Your plan is madness. Manehatten Port Authority will be here and there’s nowhere to run. I’m giving you the chance to surrender.”

“Surrender? Even after all the terrible and unforgivable things I have done, especially to your master, you would let me live?” Shield Wall mocked, a twisted grin spreading across his face. “You know I could never accept.”

“I’m counting on it.”

A stillness grew between the two that, even though lasting a moment, seemed drag on for an eternity. The Ghost stepped forward, before Shield Wall’s aura pulled Abby from her binds, tearing her dress, and placing her between him and his enemy. She tried, in vain, to resist the powerful magical bind around her, a spell the Ghost recognized.

“Let her go,” he growled.

“And give up my only leverage? I think not. Your master may have deserved an honorable duel against me, but his whelp is another story, entirely.”

“You wouldn’t hurt her. After all, why kill her lover if you didn’t intend on keeping her for yourself?”

“You know, then,” Shield Wall gave a slight chuckle, his breath sending chills along Abby’s spine. “Of course you do, Serenade must have told you. I wonder what else he revealed, thinking his cooperation would save his life?”

“You mean like how a no-good, low-class dirt horse made you jealous?”

“Do not presume to know me!” Shield’s face twisted in anger. “That runt thought himself superior, so I proved him wrong!”

“And after all that effort, her heart still doesn’t belong to you.” The Ghost’s words brought forth a visible tremble in Shield Wall’s hooves. “I wonder how that feels, Shield? To know that despite all your power and influence, all your achievements, you still fall short of the nopony that kept it all from you.”

At those words Shield Wall flew into a frenzy. He tossed Abby aside, launching her violently against the wall, and charged the Ghost at full force. His enemy leapt over him and threw a kick to the back of his head, sending him stumbling out onto the ruined deck. He spun and fired into the doorway as the black cloak deflected each blast and lunged for him.

The two traded hooves in a furious exchange. All around the two ponies were the sounds and sights of battle. Smoke billowed up from the small fires scattered across the deck, and out across the water the other two ships seemed completely overrun.

The Ghost swiped at Shield Wall’s face with his cloak, forcing him on the defensive. Each slicing piece of fabric landed against the barrier keeping Shield’s hide undamaged until a pair of black-clad hooves bucked against it. The magical aura shattered into glimmering pieces and more flurries of hooves launched toward their target. The quick strikes of the Ghost rapped across Shield’s torso and forced him against the splintered remnants of the mast, but the relentless barrage came to a halt when bits of wood rose from the deck, wrapped in a golden aura.

Shield Wall launched the pieces, one by one, with pinpoint accuracy. The sharp splinters were deflected by the skillful swipes of his enemy’s cloak. Shield Wall grimaced, sending the remainder of his artillery flying against the Ghost, who curled into a black ball as the volley collided with his form and sent him back.

“Hey! General Tightwad!”

Shield Wall’s gaze turned upward at the sound of the gryphon’s call. She rocketed toward him with her glistening claws extended and ready to tear into his flesh. He prepared himself for the impact and, with practiced form, wrapped his forhooves around the feathered flyer. He pushed his hindlegs back against the deck to leverage himself, locked his hooves around her neck and spun around to send her flying toward the Ghost. She crashed into the wooden railing and slumped down beside her ally.

“Holy smokes…” she huffed, gripping her ribs. “I’ve never seen a unicorn do that.”

“Let me handle him. Abby’s in the cabin, get her out!”

As Gilda rushed for the cabin, the Ghost took a few steps forward and launched the end of his cloak at Shield Wall. The unicorn sidestepped the oncoming attack and smirked.

“You missed.”

The black tendril returned with a large piece of the mast in its grasp, colliding against Shield Wall’s back and forcing him to the ground. The Ghost took his chance and charged his enemy through fire and debris. Each rampaging hoofstep, however, lost its speed as a golden aura surrounded them. Shield rose to his hooves as the Ghost continued to flounder against the immaterial grasp he was trapped in, the field creeping up from his hindlegs and threatening to consume the rest of him. Shield’s expression grew ever more euphoric as his horn’s glow intensified.

His jubilation was cut off, however, by the quick snap of the cloak against his horn. He hollered out in pain as his grip on the Ghost was released, deftly landing on all fours. Two lengths of cloth enveloped the stunned unicorn and squeezed, holding tight as the Ghost launched toward him with a thundering kick to the jaw. With each powerful blow the cloak constricted tighter before Shield Wall was lifted from his hooves and spun around like a sling, and with a quick snap he was sent careening across the deck. His painful slide came to a stop in the middle of a crowd of guards, dodging magical fire from Rarity. More guards fell as Shield Wall stood, and his furious eyes locked with the white unicorn.

Rarity’s confidant smirk quickly fell as the glimmering of magic from Shield Wall’s horn came shooting out as a stream of arcane death. She had just enough time to erect a gemstone-shaped shield of her own that held back the spray, but only just. Shield’s magic spilled over the sides of the barrier, and little by little it began to give way. From the other side of her diamond barrier, however, a howl bellowed from Shield Wall and Rarity spied a small dagger protruding from his leg. The Ghost glided over top of them and landed between her and the wounded unicorn.

“Oh, good heavens! Thank you, darling,” Rarity huffed, wiping sweat from her brow. “I’m afraid I’m somewhat out of my element in open combat. And I didn’t even bring those darling boots App-.”

“Rarity, please, not now,” the Ghost demanded through a strained pant. “Gilda’s getting Abby. Make sure the crew members are taken from the ship safely.”

Before she could even respond the Ghost was off again. Shield Wall locked eyes with him and pulled the knife from his leg, unflinching, and wielded it in his aura. Deadly swipes glided through the air, mere inches from the Ghost’s chest, before one made it underneath his foreleg. The stinging pain of the gash shot through his chest as he stumbled back. Shield Wall took the opportunity and sent a mighty kick to the Ghost’s side and sent him down the deck’s stowage port leading to the galley. Shield Wall followed, knife in grasp, and scanned the dark compartments around him, finding nopony.

“This is a wonderful bit of sport you’ve brought to me, Aristo,” Shield Wall huffed. “I cannot express my gratitude to the late Darrox for leaving me such a wonderful plaything.”

His eyes scanned the tables and crates surrounding him, with nothing more in sight.

“I’m not here as sport, Shield Wall.” The voice came from all around Shield Wall as he spun in place to find its source. “I’m here to bring you to justice.”

“Well, you know I cannot allow that.”

A single dagger flew out from behind Shield Wall, slicing along the side of his face before landing against a far off crate.

“You wretch!” Shield Wall spat at nothing but the shaking room around him. “You and your filthy breed will be the foundation upon which I build a new world!”

Another dagger flew from the shadows and slashed along its target’s back.

“Do you expect me to be afraid? You’re a raving unicorn on a ship with no sails. Hardly intimidating.”

“I will find them! Whoever you love! Whoever you care for! I will find them and bleed them before you!”

“Too late for that.”

The cloak reached out for Shield Wall and ensnared his face. The Ghost rushed out from the darkness and threw himself against his furious foe, beating the blinded unicorn senseless with an unhinged volley of blows. They ascended the stairs back to the deck and the Ghost tossed his enemy across the wooden floor. Shield Wall spat blood upon the boards before standing, sending his foe a venomous glare and rushing into a single-minded assault.

Everything from magic to knives, wood to discarded weapons were used in the conflict between the Ghost and Shield Wall. Ponies from the other ships attempted to swing over to assist their leader, but were taken out of the air by Gilda and the crew of the Tornado. With no back up, Shield Wall’s attacks became more ferocious. He swiped with powerful hooves and sent wild streaks of magic across the deck in the hopes of catching his nimble target. The Ghost and his cloak danced around Shield Wall with terrifying finesse. Even after bone crushing blows from the Vice General, his skillful strikes still landed with precision and purpose. Shield Wall, with a roar, tackled the Ghost to the ground and wrestled for dominance, winning out against the tiring earth pony. He stood over the Ghost and prepared to unleash the same torrent of magic he did on Rarity, his power gathering in a terrifying light. The Ghost reached up, grabbed Shield Wall’s neck, and jammed his horn onto the deck as the radiating appendage pierced the wood with a crack of arcane might.

The blast went off, the beam cascading through the ship like a needle through cloth. A deafening explosion came from within the ship. Cargo and pieces of wood shot up into the air from the blast as the ship’s secondary powder stores ignited and created a fierce cloud of destruction. The Ghost and Shield Wall were rocked from their skirmish on the deck. Shield was flung against the railing of the ship, wincing at the loud pop that rang out from his body. The fireball fell back into itself and Shield Wall grasped his dislocated shoulder, gasping and cursing in agony. Another small blast went off as he fumbled over the damaged limb. Before him, however, the Ghost limped forward.

He was covered in soot from the blast. Any shrapnel that wasn’t lodged into his side and leg slowly fell from the impervious cloak and clacked against the deck. He gasped for air, each step a painful journey as he closed the distance between him and his enemy. The two stared at each other for what felt like hours. All pain and weakness left the Ghost, among the smoke and fire, as he delivered a powerful strike to Shield Wall’s face that sent him back to the floor.

“You think I’d be afraid of threats? Like there’s something left that you haven’t already done to me?”

Shield Wall tried his best to recover, grunting from the pain in his shoulder, before a kick landed against his face again.

“I’m not afraid of you, Shield Wall. I haven’t feared you for six years.” The Ghost stood tall, despite the pain, and glared through the eyes of his dirt ridden mask. “Ever since I was pulled from the cold ocean you left me in, I’ve waited to see this very same image.”

Shield Wall’s face emptied of all emotion, his golden eyes the only thing betraying the fear in his chest.

“You took everything from me, Shield Wall. My home, my father, my love! The vile marks you left on my back are a reminder of all that I’ve lost, so I’m taking everything from you. Bit by bit. Lash by lash!”

The booms of the powder stores did nothing to knock Shield Wall from his trance. The pain in his shoulder was simply nonexistent. All he did was stare.

“I killed you…”

“You did,” Silver said, removing his mask to reveal his long-hidden truth. “And I have returned to haunt you.”

The subtle expression on Shield Wall’s face began to grow. He teeth were bared, lips curled, eyes bloodshot. With an uncanny display of strength he pushed his dangling limb back into its socket with a sickening click, showing absolutely no sign of the excruciating pain it brought him. With a strained grunt he stood to face his enemy, feeling the fires begin to encircle them both.

“So tell me, what was his name again? The name of that pony you cast to the ocean, only for him to return and burn down everything you worked for?”

“I will hurt-”

“What was his name?! I want to hear you say it!”

Shield Wall stood, embraced only by the smoldering ruins of his grand scheme, and stared into the eyes of his torment. When he spoke it was low, and rose from within him like an unholy growl.

“Silver Spade.”

At that the two lunged at each other, desperate to finish their eternal struggle. The Tornado circled above them and began its descent toward the sinking vessel. The ship was rocked, however, by a second round of explosions from the ship’s primary powder stores. Abby, Gorn, Gilda, and Rarity all rushed to the railing to look out upon the battle below. Silver and Shield Wall continued to pummel each other, mercilessly, as the fire spread around them. Abby screamed out to Silver, desperate to get his attention, but her voice was drowned out by another blast, the largest of them all. The resulting fireball rose up into the sky, threatening to singe those at the Tornado’s railing, and engulfed what was left of the fleet below.

The burning wreckage sank faster into the crashing waves. Those on board the Tornado watched as a small fleet of rescue ships came rushing out from Manehatten’s shimmering port. Many of the ponies were brought aboard and held as the airship gently crested the water below. It was soon surrounded by the smaller boats, before Rarity presented herself to them, holding what little composure she had left as the rest of the small fleet fanned out, searching for survivors.

Chapter 23: “I wish to provide testimony.”

- One week after the Manehatten Insurrection -

“These allegations are preposterous!”

“Your client orchestrated an attempt to attack Manehatten under a false-flag-”

“And where is your evidence?”

The royal courtroom was positively packed with ponies. Everypony from castle guard, to nobility, to even some of the common ponies stood with rapt attention as the parties deliberated what many felt was the case of the decade. In a small viewing box to the side sat ponies of greater importance, among them being Princess Cadence and Shining Armor. Above them all, seated upon a marble pedestal, were the two Princesses of Canterlot: Celestia and Luna. They looked down over the arguing ponies and the many others brought to Canterlot from Manehaten.

On the right sat the prosecution, lead by a portly earth pony named Flint Strike, whose magenta coat turned a deeper shade of red as he went on about the incident just miles off shore of his hometown. The defense stood unamused. A pale green pegasus stood at the defense with a smirk, between her client and the boisterous prosecutor across from them as if to protect him. All eyes were on the duo except the defendant’s. Shield Wall sat, his head downcast, staring at the space just before his eyes and the chains upon his hooves, the links of metal leading down to the sturdy bolt holding them to the floor. He ignored the urge to scratch at the inscribed ring around his horn as the bickering went on.

“My client, Mr. Wall, has demonstrated unflinching loyalty to Equestria and to the Princesses," the pegasus stated in a nasally tone. "What you suggest is simply out of character.”

“Princesses,” Flint Strike addressed to the alicorns. “You have heard the testimony of the Manehatten Coast Guard, surely their report must count for something.”

“Objection!” The pegasus cried out.

“Sustained,” Celestia returned. “Mr. Strike, we have heard their testimony and are considering it, but this court needs more than that to sentence a pony. It is only fair. Mrs. Deal, you had a statement.”

Flint Strike grumbled to himself, returning to his seat at the table as the pegasus stepped forward. She brushed her sapphire mane back and looked out over the crowd.

“I did, your highness. I would like to begin by saying yes, my client was in Manehatten waters during the night one week ago, but what the prosecution fails to mention is the request for a naval training exercise on that precise date. The official request was submitted to the General’s Board three days before departure, with full details on all ponies and equipment present.”

“Yes, we received such a missive in Miss Rarity’s investigation,” Luna commented, peering over to the white unicorn seated behind the prosecution.

“Exactly. Mr. Wall did everything he was supposed to do, yet is now the victim of this coordinated attack against him. First his home, from which he and his guards rescued dozens of attendees before coming under attack by an unregistered airship, then the attack on three of Equestria’s warships in open water, destroying them. Now he has been called a “traitor” and made to appear as some kind of scoundrel. Surely, princesses, some form of civil conspiracy is ahoof.”

“Objection!” Flint cried out. “No such allegation has been presented in this courtroom, and is completely conjecture.”

“Sustained,” Luna said. “Mrs. Deal, prithee choose thy words carefully. ‘Tis our place to indict ponies in this courtroom, not thine.”

“Of course your highness.” She gave a small bow turning to the crowd. “If you would permit me, I would like to call Miss Rarity to the stand.”

Celestia waved her hoof in approval. The eyes of the room turned to the white unicorn, who made an audible gulp as she rose from her seat. She stepped, as dignified as she could, toward the front of the courtroom and up into her pew. Mrs. Deal approached with a cold stare.

“Miss Rarity, is it true you were called upon by the princesses to assist in an internal review of all royal departments following the attack made by Tirek earlier this year?”

“Why, yes,” she replied. “I was chosen for my attention to detail and analytical nature.”

“And did you complete your investigation.”

“Well, partially… I, unfortunately, became wrapped up in a related affair.”

“What sort of affair?”

“A complaint had come across my desk regarding the review, one that I could not ignore, and I was forced to follow up before I could rightfully continue. I would hate for my results to become polluted. You understand, yes?”

“And what was the nature of the complaint?”

“That there was a pony within the royal court with less than noble intentions. Such a tip could’ve helped tremendously with my assignment.”

“Do you know who made the complaint?”

“Objection, the defense is leading the witness.”

“Overruled,” Celestia said, turning back towards Rarity. “We, too, are curious to know the state of your assignment, Rarity.”

“I repeat the question,” Mrs. Deal said, grinning.

“I-I do.”

“Who is it?”

The question made Rarity shiver. A thousand eyes rested upon her with rapt attention as she felt her heart sink into her seat, falling under the weight of Mrs. Deal’s icy glare. From just past the intimidating pegasus’ shoulder she could see the others seated at the defense’s table. Abby, Gilda, and Gorn looked back to her with anxiety written all over their faces. She cleared her throat and continued.

“The Ghost,” she finally stated. The room began to bubble over with chattering, while the princesses looked to Rarity with cocked eyebrows.

“The Ghost? The vigilante, you mean?” Mrs. Deal’s eyes darted between Rarity and the princesses with increasing incredulity. “You openly admit to fraternizing with a wanted criminal and the instigator of my client’s attack?”

“Why yes, I do.” Rarity shot a smug smile toward the perplexed pegasus. “It’s a funny little story involving a balcony and a dance, but you’d be much more interested in exactly what he told me, yes?”

“Oh, that’s not necessary,” Mrs. Deal interjected, harshly. “Any testimony you present is contaminated. This court cannot trust the word of-”

“We can, and we will.”

Mrs. Deal looked up to see Princess Luna staring down at her from her marble perch. She shifted her gaze over to Rarity and extended a hoof, inviting the unicorn to continue with her explanation. Mrs. Deal opened her mouth to object, but the sight of Luna’s piercing teal eyes thwarted her.

“Thank you, princess,” Rarity said, haughtily. “As I was saying, I had only a hoofful of visitations from our valorous vigilante, the first being the night of the Grand Galloping Gala, after the attack. He came to me with information about the perpetrators and their allegiances, most notably how they were employed by the crime lord Plunder and not truly Griffonstone extremists.”

“How could he possibly know such a thing?” Luna inquired.

“Well, admittedly, he learned through less-than-diplomatic means. He first stopped in the small town of Coltistrano, to confront and force Plunder from his seat of power, before following him to Canterlot. Gilda, darling, will you bring the book?”

Mrs. Deal had almost no time to turn around before Gilda approached the stand at Rarity’s call, holding a small red book in her claws. She placed it in Rarity’s hooves and made her way back to her seat.

“This is a ledger containing a list of transactions between Plunder and those he once served, before they had the chance to kill him for his failures.”

“And am I to suspect this ledger directly incriminates my client?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Rarity said with a huff. “Although, it helps to know the true identity of Plunder is a pony named Serenade, a former member of the 22nd Recon Corps who was transferred to Shield Wall’s command six years ago. It also details the deployment of mercenaries matching the description of those who attacked the Gala.”

“This is not a trial for Serenade, Miss Rarity, it’s for my client.”

“I am aware, Mrs. Deal, but this is all for the purpose of helping you see your client for what he is.”

“And that is?”

“A vile, race-hating bigot with a heart as cold and black as the waters his vessels were sent to.”

“The defense has no further questions!”

Mrs. Deal walked back to her seat, almost stomping, and sat next to her client. All this time, Shield Wall remained unflinching as accusations were hurled across the courtroom in desperate attempts to sully his name and reputation. He kept his eyes on the table and didn’t even turn to watch Flint Strike rise to the floor.

“Your majesties, with your permission I would like to call Countess Abundant Glow to the stand.”

“Permitted,” Celestia responded, a hint of a quiver in her voice. With tearful eyes she watched as her niece trekked across the courtroom floor and traded places with Rarity. Flint Strike approached.

“Countess, you and others have accused the defendant of leading a conspiracy against the crown. Can you explain your reasoning for this?”

“Shield Wall was, for many years, seen as a friend of my family. We were never given any reason to mistrust him. Even after the death of Silver Spade, my former lover, he comforted me. This was when I first learned about his friends. They were nobles, powerful and with a willingness to set things right with Silver’s death. They called it an injustice and I could not help but agree, so I met with them to offer whatever help I could and plead for them to help me, in turn. It wasn’t until years later that I learned of their true purpose, to funnel money and resources to attack Equestria.”

“Can you name any of the conspirators?” Flint Strike could almost feel the eyes of Mrs. Deal on his neck, but continued his questioning, unhindered.

“I can, but… well, if they wish to reveal themselves, I know several of them are in this room, now.”

A stillness fell across the room. Nopony, not even the princesses, dared take their eyes off their neighbors for fear one of them was a conspirator. This was what made Shield Wall glance around from his slumped state, cautiously eyeing the room and searching for any of the ponies who would dare go against him. After a few agonizing moments, Mrs. Deal stood from her seat.

“A frightening display, Countess,” she announced. “But clearly, there is nopony to even support this wild claim.”

“Wait your turn, Mrs. Deal,” Flint Strike hissed through his teeth.

“There is nothing to wait for! Your highnesses, if I could entertain the Countess’ delusions all day I would, but the very notion that they seek to have my client imprisoned with a stolen book of numbers and vivid fantasies as testimony is utterly insulting to the legal craft. Surely, we can find a better way to settle this matter than with conjecture.”

“I’m afraid Mrs. Deal is correct,” Celestia said, turning towards Flint Strike and the rest of the defense. “While the notions you have presented are damning, for sure, there is nothing here substantial enough to support your claims. It proves only that an attack was made, not who perpetrated it.”

“Princess Celestia, surely the witness testimony, alone, would warrant an investigation.” Rarity’s pleading eyes stared at the radiant alicorn, who merely shook her head in response.

“I’m sorry, Rarity. I know full well your credibility and loyalty to Equestria, but there are still rules to be followed for the fairness of all. I’m sure you understand.”

“But you must believe-”

“Believe that a secret conspiracy has taken root in Canterlot, lead by my client, that sought to overthrow the crown and bring endless war to Equestria?” Mrs. Deal almost shouted from the prosecution’s table. “You are bold, Miss Rarity, for even suggesting a conspiracy when your entire defense reeks of it!”

“Shove it, lady!” Gilda hollered. “You weren’t there! You don’t even know what kind of sicko you’re defending.”

“I would ask you watch your tongue, miss, don’t forget the only reason why you’re not in a cell is because the princesses wish it.”

“And the only reason he’s not is because everyone here is too chicken-shit to rat him out!”

“Huzzah! We like this one’s candor,” Luna cheered before receiving a firm nudge from Celestia.

“Luna, please, these are serious allegations.”

“‘Tis true, sister, but look to their fervor. Verily, some crime must have been committed to present such claims usward.”

“Auntie, please.” Abby’s small voice made Celestia’s ears twitch, bringing her focus to the desperate expression of her niece.

“Abby, I’m sorry. I know this has been awfully stressful for you, but we need to follow due-”

“He took Silver from me.”

Celestia’s mind stopped in its tracks, abandoning all previous admissions of fairness and adherence to rules. Her eyes darted to the slumped-over Shield Wall and back to Abby, multiple times, before she finally spoke again.

“He killed… are you able to prove that?”

“Are my words not enough?”

Celestia’s wings began to flutter from her sides. Something crept up her neck and seemed to burrow into her mind, forcing an uncanny amount of focus onto the grey-maned unicorn. She huffed, took a deep breath to contain the welling emotion, and stood pin-straight as she spoke with her signature authoritative voice.

“My little ponies, this has been a trying day. Many heartfelt admissions have been made here, and many more accusations. Unless new evidence is brought to light we must call this trial into postponement. However! I request to all those who still hold some measure of conscience within them to step forward and present whatever you may know. Not just warships and soldiers, but hearts as well, have been broken in this exchange.”

It was deathly silent. Ponies all around the room dared not lift their eyes from the floor, for fear of being called out by either their peers or their rulers. The defense squirmed in their seats and peered around the room desperately. Mrs. Deal, instead of cowering in her seat, gave a long sigh and picked at her hooves, disinterestedly. To her side, unbeknownst to the ponies around him, a small smile crept across Shield Wall’s face.

“Your majesty.”

Shield Wall’s eyes shrunk to pinpricks. His ears twitched and spun around toward the source of the voice. He didn’t move, only listened, as hoofsteps made their way closer to the podium where the two sisters sat.

“I wish to provide testimony.”

A coat of deep blue could be seen from the corner of his eye, and Shield Wall knew exactly who had dared present themselves against him. Finally, he raised his head and was met with the watery gaze of Midnight Gavel as Abby surrendered the stand to him.

“Your majesties, ladies and gentlecolts, ponies all. My name is Midnight Gavel, and I am the Chief Magistrate for Her Majesties’ Royal Court. We have all heard the horrible claims made by the prosecution against a pony who, at one point, I considered a dear friend. One for whom I would do anything to save.

“I am here to tell you, before the Sun and Moon, that these allegations are true! For almost twenty years I served as a confidant and informant to Shield Wall as he organized a conspiracy to wage war across the world, in hopes of creating an Equestria fueled by fear and devoid of all sentiments of compassion and friendship. A world he would control. It began decades ago with attacks against Celestia herself, then to assaults on neighboring towns and bribing foreign dignitaries. For many years I believed in his vision, and to my great shame I only recently learned there was no depth to… to his evil.”

Shield Wall sat forward in his seat, his chains the only things holding his rage back. Mrs. Deal, beside him, took notice and scooted her chair away at the display.

“Most recently, a panel of approximately twenty-eight members of the military and nobility joined Shield Wall and I in devising a scheme to frame Griffonstone for attacking Equestria, thus urging the country to war. This began with the senseless murder of Sergeant Silver Spade-”

“You!? You did it!?” Shining Armor, from the box beside the prosecution, stood up to face the still fuming Shield Wall, held back only by Princess Cadence. “He was my friend! We looked up to you and you killed him! Why!? Why, you rotten bastard!?”

“Shinny, please!”

“Your once-noble leader did it out of jealousy and spite,” Midnight announced to the struggling couple. “The yak invasion six years ago was orchestrated by him, and when Sergeant Spade helped thwart the attack he grew wrathful. He used his death as a spark to fuel the flames of insurrection, of which many fell into, blindly.”

“Can you tell us who joined you in this endeavor?” Celestia asked.

“No. I am sorry, your highness, but I will not allow those I coerced and threatened into service take the fall for our actions. The fault lies squarely upon my shoulders and his.”

The loud clack of Shield Wall’s chains rang out across the courtroom as they strained against the unicorn’s impressive strength. It was at this moment everything clicked in Celestia’s mind, with more pieces falling into place with each word Midnight spoke.

“Our contact in Coltistrano, Plunder, though formerly known as Serenade, assisted in staging the public execution of Fancy Pants at the gala. Were it not for the Ghost’s timely intervention, I daresay we would have succeeded, and our nation would be on the warpath. When Serenade was captured by the Ghost, Shield Wall had him killed, and when things became dire he began plotting the assassination of Miss Rarity to further incite terror in the populace. It was at this moment I knew there was no great mission, only the wrathful ravings of a pony far too deep in his own madness. My only regret was that it happened to my friend.”

“I should have killed you.”

The eyes of the room fell upon the now seething Shield Wall, who was all but able to pounce upon Midnight Gavel, ready to tear him apart.

“Perhaps you should have, Shield, but I cannot let this nightmare continue. There will be no great game, so please stop this madness. Let me save you.”

“You should focus more on saving yourself.”

“Mr. Wall, please!” Mrs. Deal placed her hooves on her client, desperately trying to calm him. “Your highnesses, my client is agitated, he didn’t mean what he said.”

“Verily,” Luna retorted, raising an eyebrow.

“Mr. Wall, I will ask that you let me do the talking.”

At Mrs. Deal’s words, she quickly found herself with a powerful elbow to the face. Shield Wall flung the errant limb against her muzzle, breaking it, and sending the room in a cascade of screams and yelling. The princesses moved to respond, but not before Shield Wall bellowed a mighty roar, slamming his head upon the table, shattering the magic ring around his horn and freeing his magic. Divine yellow and blue beams hurtled toward him from the princesses horns with an angelic cry, but missed as the signature pop of teleportation rang out and the chains were left empty. Shield Wall reappeared in the aisle, away from the courtroom floor as he bolted towards the large double doors.

“Guards! To me!” Shining Armor’s bellowing command rang through the courtroom, as if trying to catch the fleeing unicorn as well while Shield Wall slammed the double doors behind him and broke into a dead sprint. Castle staff and other ponies stumbled to the side of the hallway, away from Shield Wall as he barreled through them and out into the lobby. Two guards at the door spun around and shouted at him, commanding him to stop at spear point. Without missing a beat, Shield Wall launched himself over the offending weapons and brought a hoof to one guard’s face, sending him flying. Before the other could react he was struck by a bolt of golden power and slumped to the floor. The distant sounds of galloping from the hallway urged Shield Wall out into the palace square beyond the courthouse, and beyond he could see the drawbridge exit to the castle grounds. He took only a few steps more before his eyes caught a glimpse of something looming over the stone archway.

Shield Wall skid to a halt. His eyes locked onto the shape as proof of his terror trickled down his brow. The shape fell from the archway with controlled grace, spreading it’s fluttering wings and landing silently upon the cobblestone below. Shield Wall could barely breathe.

“I killed you…” he muttered.

The shape rose from the ground and stared into the eyes of its prey. It stepped forward.

“You don’t have magic, the fire would have killed you!”

“I’m here to haunt you, Shield Wall...” The shape emerged from the archway’s shadow and into the light, smirking. “Didn’t you get that the first time?”

The unicorn’s face twisted with pure, white-hot rage as he flung himself toward the Ghost. He flailed his forelegs, still sore from their last encounter, desperately trying to fight through his final obstacle. His weariness became more obvious as a quick jab against his muzzle sent him into a dazed stumble backwards. Shield Wall’s head throbbed from the strike and he struggled to stay standing, until another powerful blow came from below him, rising up against his midsection with a loud and painful clap. His horn sputtered out sparks of power. The Ghost launched his cloak out to enrapture the luminescent limb upon Shield Wall’s head and suppress the magic, using his newfound leverage to pull and toss his enemy to the ground. With a thud, Shield Wall’s head was met with the cruel embrace of the cobblestone road. He grunted, slowly rolling to face the Ghost before he felt his enemy pin him to the earth.

“Make no mistake, Shield Wall, this is where your story ends.”

A final crack rang out as the Ghost’s hoof collided with Shield’s muzzle. He fell limp against the street, slipping into a painful unconsciousness. The Ghost took a good look at what he had done, standing above his enemy, almost unaware of the sounds of galloping coming from the courthouse. His eyes met the crowd of guards, nobles, and royalty, all whose eyes fell upon the scene of his victory. Abby, Rarity, and Gilda pushed to the front. Abby gasped.

“You…” she squeaked, taking a timid step forward. “You’re alive?”

The Ghost did nothing but smile, the same warm smile they had come to know, before turning back toward the archway. With a snap of his cloak he carried himself up over the structure before leaping off the other side, gliding out into the city.

Abby sprinted after him, followed by Rarity and Gilda dragging Gorn behind. Their chase was lead by only scant sightings of the fluttering black cloth and the sounds of rippling fabric, but soon enough they found themselves entering the airship dock. The Tornado was moored there, and the last of the black fabric slipped behind it. The four made their way to the gangplank, almost sneaking closer, unsure of what they had seen was real, as they fought the almost palpable cloud of nervousness forming within them. Abby stepped first before jumping at the sound of the cabin door opening. There, across the deck, a worn and familiar pony walked and neared the gangplank, wearing only his saddlebag. The mountain breeze was all that could be heard as the two locked eyes.

“Hi, Abby.”

Abby launched herself at Silver, locking her forelegs around his chest and neck as they stumbled back onto the deck. Rarity, Gilda, and Gorn all followed and surrounded the now laughing pair and shared their own jubilation. Gilda stomped towards Silver, a deathly look in her eye.

“You numbskull!” She whacked Silver on the back of the head with a claw before reaching out to hug him. “I thought you were dead! I thought you were cooked alive in the fireball!”

“How’d ye survive, lad? Nary a creature alive coulda’ escaped that inferno.”

“The cloak saved me from the fire,” Silver said, rescuing himself from Gilda’s death grip. “I didn’t make it to shore for another hour or so.”

“Why didn’t you come to us, darling?” Rarity exclaimed, much louder than she intended. “It’s been over a week since the battle.”

“We all thought you were dead, Silver,” Abby said as she fought the welling tears in her eyes. “How could you keep us waiting like that?”

“I had to be sure Shield Wall was taken in. If he had some other trick ready I couldn’t let him suspect I was alive.” The distraught faces of his friends still stared at Silver, immune to his justifications. “I’m sorry, I should have told you guys.”

“Yes, you should have,” Rarity piped up. “But, in hindsight, it seems your trickery paid off. Were it not for your timely resurrection, I daresay Shield Wall might have escaped.”

“You’re still a damn idiot.” Gilda grumbled beside Silver, her feathers ruffling.

The shared nervousness of the group gave way to laughter. Their jubilation echoed across the dock, uncaring of who was watching. Silver looked to Abby, and she back as the laughter died down, their eyes unmoving from each other.

“Let’s, uh… let’s give them a minute.” Gilda’s words prompted the others to follow her across the deck. Rarity gave her goodbyes to the crew and shot Silver a warm smile before walking down the gangplank. Abby and Silver didn’t even react to their absence. Her eyes traveled across his bare form, counting the peppered cuts along his side. Her hoof reached out and brushed the tender flesh.

“Shrapnel,” Silver whispered. “Took hours for me to pick it all out.”

“Silver…” Abby stepped closer and pressed a hoof to his chest. “I still can’t believe any of this happened. I can’t believe you’re back, at all. Do we… I mean…”

“I don’t know.” Silver’s words were soft, but empty. “It’s been so long, Abby.”

“I know, I know. I can’t tell you how many late nights I spent dreaming, wishing you would come back. Cadence always tried to help me heal from it, but now that you’re here…”

Silver took her in his forelegs, squeezing her into his chest. She let out a long and trembling sigh. The rush of guilt and fear had sent her into a spiral of emotion that all seemed relieved by his embrace, the heat in her ears extinguished.

“I spent so many nights on that beach, planning what I would say when I found you again. I wanted to be romantic about it, you know? Drop down from the tower, be all dark and mysterious, and reveal who I was like something out of a story.” Silver gave a laugh, drawing a giggle from Abby, as well. “But now that I’m here… and what happened to Darrox-”

“They told me,” Abby looked to Silver. “I know what he meant to you, and what you said on the mountain. Believe me, Silver, I know the weight words hold when you lose a loved one.”

There was silence between them. An urge to look away grew within them both, but they refused. Silver reached out and placed a hoof on Abby’s shoulder, her own hooves reaching behind his neck. There they stood, swaying in rhythm with the airship, drowning out the sounds of the rest of the world as the heat of their embrace climbed higher, then began to fade. He felt it. She did, too. Abby pulled away first and gazed into Silver’s amber eyes.

“I will never forget you, Silver, and for as long as I live I will always look fondly on who and what we were.”

“That’s supposed to be my line…”

The two ponies shared a toothy smile, giggling and resting their heads against each other. The wrinkles on Silver’s cheeks faded as his wide grin became soft. He lifted his head and placed a kiss on Abby’s cheek. She pulled him down and touched her lips to his forehead, lingering for a moment, like parting a blessing upon him. They wordlessly parted and Abby walked slowly back to the stone road of the port. She turned back and waved to Silver.

Gorn’s cry could be heard across the deck. Rusty and Steelhorn, along with the rest of the crew, began hustling around the ship and preparing to cast off. The hiss of the balloon and the clack of hammers as restraints were bolted in failed to distract Silver from his goodbye as he waved back to Abby. The hiss ignited into a mighty flame from the burners as hot jets of air shot up into the balloon’s body, lifting the Tornado from its moorings and in a few minutes the glistening city of Canterlot began to drift away.

“So, you done being a crazy, rag-wearing hero, now?” Gilda approached Silver’s unscarred side, looking back at the city.

“Only when you’re done being a gravel-voiced pain in my flank.”

“Oooh, in it for the long haul, then?” The two chuckled and Gilda rested her claws against the railing. “Why didn’t you stay?”

“Stay?”

“With her.”

“I don’t think I could,” Silver said, softly. “It’s been so long and I’ve changed so much, so has she. I wanted to, believe me I did, but… you know, things change.”

“Yeah…” Gilda’s gaze faltered, her eyes flicking back to Silver. “For what it’s worth, though, I’m glad you’re still here.”

“Me too, feather face.”

“Aye, runt!” Gorn’s callous voice called down from the helm. “What be our headin’?”

“Take us home, Gorn.” Silver gave Gilda a smile before turning away from the fading sight of Canterlot, walking to the mast. In the distance he could see the sweeping landscape of eastern Equestria. Along the starboard side were the lush flatlands and rolling plains, ending in the firm row of trees that made up the Everfree Forest, bordered by the small town of Ponyville and stretched out into infinity. To port, the towering range of the Foal Mountains reached forward for miles, their white caps scraping the clouds and guiding the ship forward and beyond, out to the sea. In the distance, nestled between the mountain’s base and the plummeting height of the cliffs of Rambling Rock Ridge, sat the old town of Coltistrano, his home and destination. Silver reached into his saddlebag and pulled a length of dark fabric from within, staring lost in its abyssal color.

“I’ve got work to do.”

End

- Silver Spade will return -

Author's Note

Hoo boy, what a ride!

I started this thing as practice to see if I could write a novel-length story, and I'm pretty confident I achieved that. Is it novel quality? Eh, not sure about that one, but I'm open to criticism.

As I stated at some point during this story's release, I'm considering continuing this story as a series of other stories to expand the world and develop the characters more. If people are down for that then great. If not, well tough shit I'll probably do it anyway.

If you've been following then stay tuned for more in the future!

Chapter 1: “I almost had you.”

- 10 years before Nightmare Moon’s Return -

A stiff mixture of salt and wind mixed with the sound of creaking boards and sloshing water along the hull. Even in the dead of night, the waters of the Celestial Sea churned with the same vigor one would expect the ocean border to have, as if knowingly protecting Equestria. Light was scarce along the deck, save for a single glittering lantern carried by a night crew pony. Though the vessel rocked, back and forth, the crew pony swayed against the motion with practiced form, bobbing left and right to help maintain both balance and lamplight. Another step summoned a yawn, quickly stifled before humming a slow tune to himself.

From the stern of the ship came another light, wobbling with as much grace as the first, making its way down the stairs to the main deck. The first watchpony paid it no mind and continued his song.

“~... are all in the pawn, to be rollikin’ randy dandy-o. Heave-~”

“Anchor, please, tell me you know at least one other song,” the second light interrupted, brushing his ginger mane against the wind.

“No need knowing another if you like the one you know,” said Anchor. “Besides, Clay, you can’t carry a tune any better than you can hoist sail.”

“Maybe not with my voice, but you know full well the music I can create with the right… instrument.”

“Shore leave on the Griffish Isles doesn’t count, you crazy horndog,” Anchor huffed. Clay's sharp, staccato laugh almost brought a grin to Anchor’s face.

“The gryphons love me, Anchor, and they’d love you too if you weren’t so… so… ugh, what’s the word?”

“Stick-up-your-flank-ish?”

“Yeah! That’s it.”

The grin finally arrived, a subtle expression on Weigh Anchor’s face, his low rumble of a chuckle almost unheard against the strong ocean wind. From a distance the two saw a bolt of lightning pierce the sky down into the water, it’s glow reflecting off the waves for a brief instant and their laughter followed. A knot settled in Clay’s stomach. From the look of Anchor’s grumpier-than-usual face he wasn’t the only one.

“You think he made it?” Clay asked, trying to suppress a growing quiver in his voice. “I mean, there were so many of us at port. He couldn’t have… you know...”

“No.” Anchor stated. “No, and if he did we’re miles out to sea. Unless he sprouts fins and gills he’s not getting us.”

“I know, I know, but still. Captain Wall’s still awake, pacing around like he does, and mumbling over and over about how close we were to getting caught back at Horseshoe Bay. We’ve got a lot of gold underneath us, Anchor, and I’m starting to wonder if it’s…”

Anchor turned an eye to Clay’s silence, hiding the grinding of his teeth behind firm lips. “If it’s what?” Anchor asked with a hushed voice, hidden by the winds.

“Well… I got a look at the manifest. That newbie, Cake, left it in the mess.” Clay’s hooves were twitching now, the tension in his gut spreading. “It says we’re supposed be guarding merchant stock. Traders doing business in Griffonstone, they ask the Crown for protection, Captain deploys a few of us, usual stuff, right?”

Anchor kept his firm gaze, trying to keep his patience.

“But the Captain’s here, then you, me, and twice the usual deployment spent hours hauling crates of gold double-time, right? Then, out of nowhere, the Gh-... he shows up, wallops us, and now we’re on the run in a bucket full of more bits and gold than Las Pegasus. I mean, Weigh, we’re not even going the right direction. Griffonstone is that way!”

Clay threw his foreleg over the port side of the ship, the opposite way of the storm, and looks to Weigh Anchor's furled brow and grim face. Silence sets in again, broken only by wind and an omnipresent creaking.

“Clay,” Anchor whispered steadily, words as tense as taught rope. “Do you… think, hypothetically, Captain Wall is maybe, maybe, hiding something from us?”

Clay raised a foreleg, illuminated by another bolt of lightning, and shakily wiped the sea water from his face. “This tub’s going to the Dragon Lands, Anchor, not Griffonstone. You ask me,” Clay took a breath, tasting the salt on the wind. “Captain’s gone AWOL.”

Clay’s words hit Anchor in a way he hadn’t expected. He was an EUP Guard, they were all guards, serving under Captain Wall for months. But he was still a grunt and, like Clay, he knew at the end of the day the grunts, and the grunts alone, looked out for each other. “We say nothing.”

“What!?” Clay spouted, much louder than intended. “There are over a dozen of us below deck heading to a literal fire pit, with a mountain of probably stolen gold, and you want to do nothing?”

“We’re in the middle of the ocean, Clay. If we’re so bucked to, we’ll report it when we return home.”

“Oh, you can not be serious!”

Under the cover of rain and the two guards’ bickering, something lurked from above. Every step it took caused the wood masts to squeal and groan, but slowly it found perch above the two watch ponies. On its back, billowing in the wind, a sleek black cloak grew taught as a corner coiled around the mast, aiding in his descent.

“You and I get thrown in the brig if we talk now, at least at home we’re held for questioning.”

“Yeah, whoever’s left! Cake is just a private, Weigh, if he ends up burnt alive who’s gonna tell his folks, huh? You?”

“You don’t know that we’re going to t-”

“There’s nowhere else to go!” Clay turned to face the dim light emanating from the Captain’s cabin. “Now I’m going in there and demanding to know the full mission, whether you like it or not. Are you coming?”

A sharp breath from Anchor was all Clay heard before his friend was gone, leaving him alone. Clay stumbled in place and thrust the lamp forward. He scanned the deck, shaking as he lead the flame around the mast. A clank echoed in the air as something, the second lamp, came down on Clay’s head, bringing him to his haunches. When the pain dulled, Clay looked up in horror to see Anchor tangled up in the sail’s tether, and something else. The lamplight danced across the flowing form of Anchor’s attacker, suspended by what Clay could only describe as an umbral tendril. Clay summoned the strength to yell, but before the air even entered his lungs the assailant’s shadowy form enveloped him.

The figure stood over Clay, fainted on the deck beneath him, and reached out a hoof to Clay’s neck.

“Still alive, good,” the figure hummed. “I am sorry, lad.”

The shrouded pony rose, ebon cloak drawing to him, striding across the deck to the cabin. Fierce ocean wind did much to hide the cloaked pony’s labored breathing. Beneath the dark material of his cloak and suit a sharp pain reminded him of a fresh wound, his mind returning to the battle at the docks. He had engaged many ponies before: criminals, slavers, would-be conquerors, but the ponies at the dock were Equestria’s finest. They were bound to get a hit in.

A final, deep breath gave him the strength to reach the door, only slightly surprised to find it unlocked. He mulled over his options. The front door was never his style, preferring skulking to a grand entrance, but his instincts knew climbing the hull in this storm was suicide, especially in his sorry state. Taking a quick look at the door and handle, confident there were no runes or traps, he slid in through the gap.

The room was the product of a terrible whirlwind. Tables cracked and tossed aside, chairs and drawers smashed, specks of glassware lodged in the wall where they impacted. The sight would make even the Master of Chaos crack a smile. Among the wreckage, the dark intruder searched and found no sign of the cabin’s supposed occupant, until, from behind, the faint chime of a unicorn’s magic was heard. The intruder whipped around to come face to face with Captain Wall: a sturdy, brown toned unicorn of stature, his blonde mane held back in an eponymous ponytail. Eyes of liquid gold pierced the intruder’s gaze, as if to hold him in place.

“Forgive me,” said the Captain in a deep, refined tone. “Had I known to expect visitors, I might have tidied up.”

“No worries, Shield Wall, I find it rather suiting.” The figure took hold of his cloak. “Like an artist’s rendition of the shattered logic you call your conscience.”

“Ah, the old barbs, I am ashamed to say I missed them. But, no, old friend, this is all quite deliberate.”

“For sure, like our bout in that Appleloosan tavern after you failed to convince the sheriff to force out the buffalo tribes. Quite clever to obstruct the floors with hard cider. It made for quite the... illuminating engagement.”

“Why, thank you.” Shield Wall's eyes, almost unblinking, remained on their target. “Though I was always fond of our little duel in the Arimaspi caverns. The asymmetry made it quite the challenge.”

“Ah, the Sapphire Eye of the Arimaspi,” the figure chuckled. “One of our more song-worthy encounters.”

“I almost had you.”

“Almost.”

Silence fell over the two. The rain outside was muffled by both the cabin walls and intense focus its occupants. Shield shifted to one side, and the cloaked figure did the same. It was obvious to both of them they knew each other's moves, which left only one for the cloaked pony to play.

“You are right, Shield, though I loathe to admit it. Equestrian nobility has ignored the signs, and something must be done.”

“So,” Shield Wall spoke slowly, tense and squinting in suspicion. “Has the proud and true Ghost of the Bridle Shores finally seen the light? Or is this a trap? Another trick from an old, withering bug to throw me off guard?”

“No tricks, Shield, but a chance to end this ceaseless struggle of ours.” The Ghost stood to his full height and slackened his posture. “So many times you have tried to leverage some amount of power for yourself, ignoring the cost of others. It has been five years since you first sent assassins against the Crown, five years spent plotting and toiling away when you’ve been missing the solution all along.”

“Which is?”

“Talk to them. Help them see reason. They would never have to know what you have done, and we could show them how to prepare for Nightmare Moon’s return. Celestia herself would-”

The Ghost’s words were cut off by Shield Wall’s tittering, slowly growing from a restrained chuckle into a loud, baleful laugh, shaking the cabin with its fervor. When Shield returned to his senses his eyes were sharp, like a predator’s, his mouth twisted between a smile and scowl.

“You mean to solve the fate of Equestria, of ponykind, of Day itself, with a little talking? Ignoring the miscreants and… lesser species, you would subject me to bureaucracy?”

“If it means saving lives-”

“It is not about saving lives, it’s about saving the world!”

“And how, exactly, does that involve bribing the dragons into attacking Equestria? Is war supposed to be our salvation?”

“Fear!” Shield Wall snapped. “Fear is what will save them, finally forced to stop pittering about with rainbows and festivals and make the hard choices. And once they are afraid, they will do anything, follow anypony to escape it, and they will follow me!”

A pulse of Shield’s magic came with his final words, scattering debris further along the floor. Dust settled around the Ghost as he glared.

“This is the difference between us, Captain, you care nothing for life.”

“No,” Shield Wall stated, venom in his voice. “The difference between us is you come into battle wounded.”

With a flash of yellow energy, a chair leg collides with the Ghost’s side wound, bringing him to his knees. Shield prepares to lunge forward, ready to skewer the Ghost with his horn. Before his hooves even leave the ground the Ghost snaps his cloak out to the side, flinging a broken table toward Shield Wall with almost inequine strength, strong enough to knock Shield from his hooves and send him hurtling through the cabin doors out into the storm.

Shield recovers and prepares a spell. The Ghost lunges for his target as the magic is released, a loud bang sending the Ghost hurtling upwards into the sails. With little time, Shield sets his sights on the ship’s bell and pulls frantically, desperately trying to rouse the crew and other guards from their sleep, and a measure of relief washes over him when the voices of his underlings reach his ears. Lightning crashes upon the waves. A second bolt illuminates the night, giving Shield a glimpse of what hid in the stormy darkness. The Ghost, cloak spread like leather wings, gliding through the rain on a collision course. As if in tune with the thunder, the two foes collide.

The flurry of hooves and magic rouses Clay. A moment passes before his vision returns, but upon standing he witnesses the battle before him, his Captain barely holding his own against the cloaked assailant. In a panic, Clay rushes to the ship’s bell, tripping over the discarded lantern and wedging it into the ship’s grating.

The two combatants pay no mind to this, absorbed wholly in their struggle. But, from the starboard side, the glowing image of a mountain of fire radiates in the night. The Dragon Lands were upon them. This momentary distraction earned the Ghost a solid jab to his jaw, knocking him backwards over the grate. Shield, frothing at the mouth, clambered over his enemy.

“Is this what you wanted, Ghost?!” Shield cried, throwing another hoof into his opponent’s face. “A petty hoof fight instead of saving the world? You should have died like a good little bug and saved me the trouble!”

Before Shield could unleash the magic building along his horn, a hoof collided with his throat, gagging him, while a second twisted his horn away. The blast fired, spraying through the deck and colliding with the lodged lamp, bursting into flames, spreading the burning oil across the deck and into the lower level.

The Ghost made his move. Flinging his cape out toward the mast, it wrapped around the wood column and pulled himself from Shield’s grasp. From here he could see the damage: fire spreading, half-dressed soldiers frantically charging the lifeboats, the erupting Dragon Lands in full view.

The Ghost took his chance to help the crew and guard escape the flaming vessel. Steel blades shot forth from within his cloak and sliced the tethers. With a whip of his hoof, the fabric of his cloak reached to Weigh Anchor and pulled him to safety. Several guards stood puzzled. The Ghost, however, wasted no time in securing supplies and helping ponies onto the rafts, before the entire deck shook with a blast from within the hull. The resulting fire cut the Ghost off from the others.

“The powder stores are hit,” came the cries of the crew. “Sweet Celestia, abandon ship!”

Two guards helped Shield Wall to his hooves as he peered across the ship. The deck was ablaze. A wall of flame separated the Ghost and himself, the firelight revealing a wrinkled face and a wry smile, hidden only by the mask and cowl he wore. Every fiber in Shield’s body trembled with fury. Though his guards desperately pleaded and pulled their Captain away, it was not without struggle as Shield Wall hollered fierce admonishments along the wind.

But the Ghost simply smiled. He waited until the rafts were away before rushing to the helm with all the strength he could muster, alone and surrounded by flame. The wheel of the ship spun with abandon and even the Ghost’s impressive strength wasn’t enough. In the distance, through the flashes of lightning, the Ghost saw a small island, remote enough to hide the vessel and all its secrets.

He huffed, summoning his strength before throwing himself into the wheel again. It turned and aligned with his course. The flame climbed higher, threatening to envelope the Ghost along with the ship. He thrust again, this time throwing his cloak out to the railing, coiling and pulling both he and the wheel. With a yell, louder than the storm itself, he wrapped the other end of his cloak on the wheel.

In this desperate pose he stood. The remote landmass neared and, in this moment, the Ghost took a final look out over the railing before the sound of bursting wood mixed with rolling thunder.

Chapter 14: “How can I do what’s right if all I feel is hate?”

Gentle moonlight poured out from the glowing crescent in the sky as Silver took his first step in Canterlot, oblivious to the bag of bits pushed into the hoof of a guard by Gorn. The Tornado came into its mooring when Darrox emerged. He peered out to Silver, following the gangplank to his side to share a moment amidst the whistle of the night breeze and soft glow of street torches. Canterlot’s towers stretched all the way to the mountain side. Small specks of light stood out against the darkness as proof of the many rooms of the palace towers. Where Darrox saw a honeycomb of life and radiance against the canvas of night, Silver wavered beside him.

“It is alright to be troubled,” Darrox said. “I can only imagine what this place must mean for you.”

Silver merely nodded before a firm clap against his shoulder shook him as Gorn forced himself between him and Darrox. “Well, the guards ‘ave been paid an’ we’re moored. I trust ye’ve a good reason fer comin’ ‘ere.”

“Reconnaissance,” Darrox stated. “It has been many years since either of us, especially myself, have been here. And since Celestia has raised the moon-”

“Luna.”

Darrox froze, blinking at Gorn's interjection. “... Pardon?”

“Aye, Princess Luna’s back, taken up ‘er seat as co-ruler again.”

“Oh... and here I presumed Nightmare Moon’s return would have been more... decisive. I am truly out of touch. In that case…” Swirling emerald fire consumed Darrox to replace him with a pale-green unicorn. “I will traverse the streets of Canterlot and help secure our bearings. Silver, you must take to the rooftops. Discover all you can after you get dressed.”

“Ok, I’ll start at the main clock tower before… 'dressed'?” Silver stared quizzically at Darrox, who's only response was his warm smile and a nod. Silver's face beamed as he turned and bolted up the gangplank, whizzing past Gilda and into the captain’s cabin. At the back of the room was a chest, similar to all the others stored below deck but not bearing gold or precious gems. Silver knelt, pulling it open slowly to reveal the pile of black fabric, soft and firm to the touch, leading up to a dark cowl, matched by a set of dark and sturdy clothing ending in flexible black boots. Every piece blended into the other, giving it the appearance of a single, flowing mass.

As Silver methodically donned each piece of his gear, the door behind him opened slowly. Feathers poked through, stepping carefully so as to not alert the cabin’s occupant, but a chuckle rose from the intruder. “You look like such a dork,” Gilda scoffed.

“That’s because it’s not all on yet!” Silver shot back with a blush. He slipped into the rest of the costume before draping the cloak over his shoulders. Gilda’s string of chortling faded into astonished whispers with each piece added to the ensemble, until the unkempt castaway she knew was swallowed into this new silhouette, shifting and swaying before her. Finally, Silver drew the cowl over his head, leaving only his eyes and muzzle visible. In the mirror to his side he looked upon his new form.

“Whoa,” he and Gilda said in unison. He turned to his gryphon friend before speaking. “I’m running recon of the city, I need you to stay here.”

“Y-Yeah, no problem,” Gilda said, shaking herself from astonishment. “I’d rather not get caught with the dweeb playing dress-up, anyway. You have fun hero-ing.”

At that Silver opened a window and, without a second’s hesitation, leapt through it and out into the world. His eyes met the plummeting height of the airship, down to the bottom of Mt. Canterlot, as he twisted his body and whipped the cloak up toward the railing. Like a muscle the cloth contracted and pulled him up to glide up onto the airship’s balloon before Silver leapt toward the rooftops of Canterlot.

Nothing in all his years of training could have prepared him for the rush he felt running from roof to roof as he flicked the cloak out, snatching flag poles and balconies, swinging overtop dancing streetlights rushing beneath him as he approached the city proper. With a final swing he stretched the cloak out to glide before landing on the side of a large clocktower.

Despite the late hour, Canterlot’s streets were dotted with ponies coming to and from restaurants and private gatherings, crowds of common folk with a rare carriage carrying a wealthy looking couple, but none looked to the sky to notice him. Just past the well lit streets Silver could see the secret lifeblood of the royal city. Workers hauling creates of food and supplies, all for the purpose of entertaining the wealthy, labored in alleyways and loading zones of the many businesses still open at this hour.

But a flash of red caught his eye. It was small, quick, and off in a tower of the noble district, but he saw it. He released his hold on the clocktower and dove toward the streets, spreading his cloak to glide just above their illumination. Soaring over the buildings Silver kept his eyes trained on the tower. Again, the flash of red crossed one of the windows. Silver landed on a roof and charged, using his momentum to launch himself across the street leading into the noble district. The tower shot up from a mansion, covered in statues and designs Silver recognized. Black cloth snagged one of the balconies. As he climbed, just beyond the flowing curtain around the open door sat his target. She was not alone, accompanied by a pink and purple pony, much taller than her and diligently pulling a brush across her face.

“... then you scoop it up like this and... done! Perfect wingtips.” The other mare giggled as Silver stepped silently to the side and out of sight.

“Cadence, this looks ridiculous,” the mare giggled, “eyeliner will suffice. Where did you even learn this?”

“From one of Twilight’s friends. Her name is Rarity, and you would absolutely love her.”

“I’m sure.” The red-maned mare drifted into silence as Cadence continued on her face. After a moment, and a few more giggles, she pulled away.

“Voila! Simply irresistible.” Silver’s mind went blank at the sight. Before him, gazing at herself in the mirror, was Abundant Glow. Her mane lacked the waves Silver once knew, her face more sullen, but there was no mistaking it. Sea green eyes stared back at themselves in the mirror, slowly analyzing the new details marked upon them by Cadence. She gave a small smile.

“It’s adorable, Cadence. Thank you.” Abby gave the alicorn a hug. “Where is Shining? I thought you brought him with you.”

“Oh I did, he should be back any minute. He’s probably playing Ogres and Oubliettes with his guard friends, but don’t tell him I said that.” The thought summoned Abby's smile, laughing with Cadence while Silver looked on with a growing emptiness. Raising his hoof he reached for the thin curtain, quickly pulling back once he came to his senses, electing instead to listen. “You know, I’m sure Shining wouldn’t mind asking one of them to be your date for the gala. I know Spearhead would leap at the chance. He fancies you something fierce-”

“No.” All amusement drained from Abby’s face in an instant.

“Abby, I know it’s been hard, but please try to at least have some fun.” Cadence sat on her haunches next to Abby. “It’ll be good for you.”

“Please, Cadence,” Abby’s voice grew tense. “Stop trying to get me to move on.”

Cadence recoiled at first, sighing. “It’s been six years, Abby. You’re sad and lonely every time I see you, and it hurts you won’t let me, or anypony, help you. I’m the Princess of Love and Family, I know how this goes.”

“I don’t want help. Everypony tries to help me,” Abby stood and turned to the balcony, stepping just past Silver as she walked to the railing. He leapt up, grabbing hold of one of the statues for support. “You, Shining, Aunty Celestia, even Shield Wall, but none of what you say or do will change what happened. He’s dead, gone, and I’m left with nothing.”

“We can always talk about it,” Cadence followed out onto the balcony. “We never really did after it happened. Maybe it will help?”

“What’s there to say? The pony I loved was taken from me. He was a war hero, and those criminals dragged him off like he was prey.”

“But you don’t have to feel alone-”

“I am alone!” Abby twisted toward Cadence. “Ever since you and Shining went to the Crystal Empire I’ve had nopony! It sickens me to say, but Shield Wall has been the closest source of comfort I’ve had in years. Yes it’s been years and yes Spearhead is a fine stallion, but it doesn’t change how all the while you have been living the dream with a husband who loves you and a life worth living! I ju-... I just…”

Cadence caught Abby before she could fall before collapsing together into a ball of whimpers and soft words, Cadence gently stroking Abby’s ruby mane. From above, beyond their sight, Silver clutched to one of the statues, eyes locked onto the mare he lost fall into a fog of pain and loneliness. Silver’s jaw clenched. He felt himself leaning over the balcony, a hoof again moving on its own towards the sobbing countess, but once more he snapped back and pushed the pain deeper into his gut. With shut eyes and a quivering lip he leapt out into the night.

The ends of his cloak flapped along the wind as he glided over the streets. Rage carried him, pumping the hot blood through his veins as he landed and sprinted across the rooftops. All around him the dark colors of Canterlot by night melted away as Silver’s vision tunneled. Jubilant cheers and laughter from ponies below him, those with lives to live and loved ones to hold, sunk into his mind as a chorus of daggers, driving him to one final leap toward the royal palace. The wall was high, but the number of flagpoles dotting the outside made it easy for Silver to swing up and climb over, arriving just outside the west wing of the castle, and as Silver crept along buttresses and windowsills he could hear voices coming from a window. A window of the west wing.

“... you understand?! No compromise. No quarter. We can’t afford to go back now!” Silver found exactly what he was looking for. Shield Wall, standing behind a desk with his back exposed to the window. A knife slipped into his hoof as Silver crept closer, eyes trained on Shield Wall like a predator. He reached for the window’s latch. Blood pumped through his skull like drums of war, growing louder with each inch closer he came, all while his mind raced with the pain and obsession of six years in exile, all to be released from the tip of his dagger, until a second voice arose.

“After what happened today we may not have a choice. Their money made up a substantial amount of the mission’s funding, and without it we can’t hope to stage an invasion.”

“This is not the first setback, and there are other ways.” Silver slowly peeked through the window. Two other ponies sat around the large wooden desk Shield Wall helmed. He concealed his dagger again, electing to eavesdrop.

“If you two gentlecolts are seeking funds,” Serenade said in his smooth accent, “then perhaps it is time to hit the cities in the west. Las Pegasus, for example.”

“There is such a thing a subtlety. I need not remind you of your excursion into Appleloosa, yes? You turned that gold rush into a bloodbath.” Midnight Gavel shot a cold glare at Serenade.

“Enough,” Shield Wall interjected. “We need real, tangible solutions. What can we leverage to get the attack moving?”

“It will be difficult,” Midnight stated. “Port authority does not fall within my influence, nor yours, but it is possible to seize the warships for state purposes. We would only need a few days.”

“But the soldiers and weapons? How are we to get them as well?” Serenade asked.

“We need not be exact, only create the illusion.” Shield Wall pulled a large scroll from beneath his desk and unraveled it into a map of Equestria. “Three ships, flying Griffonstone colors, all leading a coordinated bombardment on port towns along the Bridle Shores. They will have to be larger ones, like Baltimare or Manehatten, in order to give full effect.”

“Manehatten?” Serenade near-whispered. “There are thousands of ponies in Manehatten, surely there is a better target.”

“No.” Shield said dismissively, leaving Serenade in shocked silence. “Unless we receive the funds for a full-scale invasion of Griffonstone, false-flag terrorism is our only option. Not only will Griffonstone be framed, but Equestria will demand justice.”

“If we are to launch such a bold attack we will still need horsepower,” Gavel said. “Serenade’s recruits will fill some of the muscle, but we still need trained sailors to command these vessels. I suggest recruiting the known pirate crews in the Celestial Sea. Most of them are dominantly gryphon, and will add some authenticity to our illusion.”

“Serenade, can you get in contact with them?”

“Uh… uh yes, yes,” Serenade stammered, snapping out of his shock. “Yes, I-I can.”

“Excellent,” Shield Wall took a sip from the glass next to him, smirking. “Mother always did say budgeting would save my life.” Midnight chuckled to himself, while Serenade gave no reaction. Shield Wall stood from his desk and returned the map to its drawer. “We will begin first thing tomorrow. If we are smart and alert for other… mishaps,” Shield twitched at the word, “then the plan will run smoothly. Goodnight, I will see you at the gala.”

With that the three made their way out of the office, Serenade lagging behind a bit, before the lights went out. A soft click told Silver the coast was clear. He reached for the window’s latch and pulled, drawing the glass open and stepping inside. The office was large, much larger than the one Silver remembered.

“He must’ve been promoted,” Silver said softly, venom in his voice. He stepped toward the desk and removed the map. Silver took a moment to analyze it. Exactly as Shield Wall said, the map was covered in naval courses and landing markers for a shoreline bombardment of several cities. Fillydelphia, Baltimare, Manehatten, all marked with a red X while other, smaller towns held smaller, black markings. Silver studied the map meticulously, committing as much of the plans as he could to memory.

As Silver stashed the map and made his way back to the window he paused, taking a moment to scan the office. He moved toward the right wall, littered in medals and awards, along with a photo of Shield Wall and Shining Armor, the later being presented with the rank of captain. Silver smiled, framed newspaper articles about attacks on the city and a new Equestrian coat of arms, now including a purple and white star in its design. He almost let out a laugh at the revelation it was for Twilight. The soft clack of metal woke Silver from his ruminations.

A soft blue glow spilled through the door's keyhole, clicking and swinging open for a white unicorn shrouded in black cloth and stepping silently into the seemingly empty office. Carefully, she walked with an aura of blue surrounding her hooves, deafening her hoofsteps as she directed her horn’s light over the pictures and commendations, then to the dark brown desk in the center, its magic penetrating the wood to reveal every item within its drawers for the unicorn to see. The light slowly trailed towards the bookshelves. There, in the highest, darkest corner of the office, sat a mass as black as night, staring back.

The unicorn jumped, almost letting out a screech at the sight of a black mass racing from the office, watching as the cloaked figure quickly slithered out window, fluttering across the dimly lit streets, and out of view.

Darrox trotted back to the harbor with pep in his step, his dwindling cough doing nothing to ruin his moodas he crossed the gangplank with a smile on his muzzle, passing a slumbering Rusty curled up in stacks of rope. Gorn sipped from a dark brown bottle as he stared out across the open air, hardly paying attention to the chipper changeling. “Most wonderful,” Darrox sighed. “I say, Gorn, not since our days crusading together that I have felt so uplifted. To think a simple walk on cobblestone instead of sand would fill a pony with such relief. Has Silver returned? I thought he would be faster than this old shapeshifter.”

Gorn merely nodded, hefting a large box up from below deck. He cracked it open with his claws and removed a worn glass bottle, before popping the cork and sipping from it. “He’s up on the balloon but, uh, we oughta’ talk ‘bout that,” Gorn muttered between drinks. “The whelp, you gave ‘im the cloak. The cloak.”

“I did,” Darrox returned. “Do you question my decision?”

“I question yer reason, aye. The boy’s full of a swirl of emotions greater an’ any storm, sir, and yer only rilin’ him up.”

“He is young and untempered, yes, but his proximity to our fight is what makes him perfect.”

“He don’t get to come outta nowhere and take on the mantle,” Gorn took another forceful swig. “It’s not yer best move.”

“And what, instead, would you have me do?” Darrox tensed his brow, his pale, monochromatic eyes glaring at Gorn.

“Give it to somepony, or someone who's worth it. I spent the better part of a decade searchin’ for ye, and nev-”

“Are you saying you want to be the The Ghost instead?” The question seemed to slap Gorn in the beak. He stuttered, averting his eyes and taking a nervous drink from his bottle as if the answer was floating somewhere in the cool liquid. Darrox took a step forward, holding his gaze. “Do you think you are being treated unfairly?”

“N-No, I…” Gorn’s composure began to crack under the changeling’s stare. He sighed, relenting as he rested the bottle down onto the deck. “I always respected ye, sir. Admired ye. It’s why I joined up when ye called all them years ago. I’ve all the knowledge of yer ways, an’ he’s just a youngin’.”

“Indeed, he is,” Darrox relaxed his face and knelt beside Gorn. “Nor is he perfect, but I found him to be a victim of my greatest rival and with a burning desire for justice. To see such a thing, Gorn, reminds me how much fate controls our lives. He had the yearning, and I the knowledge, I could not deny fate’s will.”

“Not all share yer beliefs, sir.”

“I do not require you to, but I would still be on that island were it not for Silver. He helped free me from my exile, and for that I accept his help in stopping Shield Wall, once and for all.” Darrox stood and placed a hoof on Gorn’s shoulder, who returned a somber look. “Give it time, my friend, perhaps you will come to see what I do.”

With that Darrox gave a one-legged hug to Gorn before spreading his translucent wings and fluttering upward. He rounded the balloon and found Silver, just as Gorn said, and landed before speaking. “Were you successful?”

Silver shot up and spun, but the sight took Darrox by surprise. His mask was pulled off his head and the fur of his scowling face was matted by tears, his eyes growing red. Silver clumsily wiped his face dry. “Y-Yes, yes.” Silver said, resisting the choke in his voice.

“What happened?”

“I found Abby...” Silver moved his mouth to speak more, but only frustrated grunts came out, eyes fixed on the balloon beneath him.

Darrox approached and placed a hoof on Silver’s shoulder. “Push it from your mind, my boy, do not let it anger you.”

“How?!” Silver near-yelled. “Tonight I watched Abby collapse into tears because she thinks I’m dead. Shining probably thinks the same, my dad is dead, and my whole life has been torn apart by that monster! I… I miss them.”

Silver shut his eyes, clenching his teeth in a vain attempt to suppress the coming tears. Darrox let out a sigh. “For now, my boy, they are gone. You cannot waste your energy thinking about what could be. Instead, focus on how you will take it all back.”

“I saw him,” Silver muttered, his mane falling around his face. “I was so close. I… I was going to kill him, Darrox. But I didn’t and… and I hate myself for it. How... how can I do what’s right if all I feel is hate?”

Darrox reached behind Silver’s head and slowly pulled the cowl over. As the cloth came down across Silver’s eyes he could feel a stillness grow within him. “You hide it,” Darrox said. “With this.” The tremble in Silver's gut faded, breath steadying as Darrox's hoof touched his shoulder. “Now, tell me all you learned.”

“Shield Wall has allies and he’s been playing the system from within," Silver stated through a sniffle. "I think he’s planning some sort of attack on the Bridle Shores, and wants to frame Griffonstone for it, but he’s hemorrhaging bits. Without money they’re growing desperate.”

“Fascinating.” Darrox stroked his chitin chin. “Did he lose support? Some shadow-beneficiary?”

“I guess. It sounded like some evil round-table conspiracy, to me, but they had to have backed out.”

“Then we have our way in.”

“What?” Silver said, pulling back the mask to reveal his face twisted in confusion.

“Shield Wall needs money, and we have money. All we must do is present you as a potential backer to his cause.”

“Are you serious?”

“Absolutely. Our mission is not all rooftops and disappearing acts. There is an element of charm, as well.”

“Well…” Silver droned ponderously, scratching the back of his head with tense brows. “He did mention the gala, as in the Grand Galloping Gala. We could do it there. But it’s in two days.”

“Hardly a worry, I assure you,” Darrox said dismissively. “It is plenty of time to have you and Ms. Gilda properly groomed and made presentable.”

“Wait, what? Gilda?” Silver’s jaw nearly dropped.

“Why yes,” Darrox said with a smirk. “Her presence will be paramount to your inclusion into his little game. I will explain all in the morning.”

He patted Silver on the shoulder, giving him a warm smile. Silver said nothing and simply returned the affection before the two made their way to the edge of the balloon. They descended to the deck of the ship before Darrox folded his papery wings away and walked toward the captain’s cabin. Silver stayed, walking over to the railing and looking out toward Canterlot once again. He was nervous, angry, and downcast at the thought of all he had lost. He took a deep breath and sighed into the wind, summoning the strength to endure another day.