Celestia XVII: The Broken Princess

by brokenimage321

Rating: teen
Tags: Twilight Sparkle, Drama, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Romance, Rarity, Adventure, Discord, Prince Blueblood, Princess Celestia
Length: 61850

Celestia's twenty now--but her problems have only gotten bigger.

I'm Princess Celestia XVII, Equestria's sixty-third Princess of the Sun. I'm twenty years old. My friends call me Cece. And my enemies... well...

Things had been going so well--up until a month ago, when the Changelings attacked. Now, I can barely close my eyes at night before I wake up screaming. And Twilight Sparkle's been acting wierd, too--she and I used to be best friends, but now she's mad at me, and I don't know why...

Plus, strange things have been happening, all over Equestria. No one can explain them, but I get the feeling that something big is coming, just over the horizon...

The long-awaited sequel to Celestia XVII!
Rated Teen for some innuendos and occasional, harsh language. Better safe than sorry, yo.
Story is written and edited; new chapters will post daily until completed.
Read and edited by Eruantalon, Crack-Fic Kai, and Soge. Thanks guys!
Cover art by the inimitable LeafBunny!

Published 2019-10-26 13:10:01 UTC
Last updated 2019-11-12 14:45:49 UTC

Chrysalis: The Queen's Dreaming

And then, I awoke.

A strange thing it is, for a changeling to wake, for we do not sleep. We have only the torpor brought to us by the chill of night or frost of winter to grant us rest.

Nevertheless, I woke from sleep. And from sleep, came a dream. And from the dream, came an idea.

I blinked up at the light that streamed down from a gap high above. I shifted on my twisted throne of chitin and glass. And the idea gathered in my brain, gathered and condensed and crystallized, until it became a name.

I turned to an attendant. She watched with the passive stare of absolute obedience, waiting at all times for me to command her.

And so, I spoke the name. I spoke it in accents rich with pheromone, with dance, and with the buzzing of wings:

“Canterlot,” I said.

“Canterlot?” she repeated.

And behind her, the nameless chorus whispered among itself:

“Canterlot?”

“Canterlot?”

“Canterlot!”

I heard, with a thousand ears, the chant begin to grow. It passed through the Hive, growing louder and louder until every heart beat and every vein coursed with the name:

“Canterlot?”

“Canterlot!”

“Canterlot!”

We are not like the Horses we prey on. We seek not consensus, but conformity. If I, the most ancient and cunning among us, wishes something, the only debate is how quickly it can be done.

“Canterlot!”

“Canterlot!”

“Canterlot!”

And, after all, is this not a cunning plan? We have survived untold aeons by doing what we do best: capturing one of the Horses and tearing it, soul from body. The soul lives on in one of us, who stays behind to quiet suspicion amongst those who remain, while the body is divided among the rest to sustain the Hive a little longer. Both soul and body are rich and sweet, and yet, so brief—

“Canterlot!”

“Canterlot!”

“Canterlot!”

What, then, if we do what we have never done before? What if we move against the city of the Horse-queens? If we bite the vine off at the root and swallow it whole, we would miss the fruit for a season—but we would grow stronger for it. We would take the strength of the city and spread over the land, making a hundred Hives where before there had been only one. Emerge this once from hiding, and entrench ourselves in the Horse-lands more completely than any of our ancestors had dreamed.

“Canterlot!”

“Canterlot!”

“Canterlot!”

The walls of the Hive resonated with the chant. Already, scouts were setting out, flying by sun and stars towards the city. Already, plans of battle were being drawn. Already, the best infiltrators among us were being chosen. I, of course, would be first among them—the one to distract and disrupt, to grant passage to those who would follow after. Already, the Hive was bending to my audacious will, to make the city of the Horse-queens our own. I watched as all around me buzzed and crawled, each taking part in the wild dance of the order-in-chaos. I permitted myself a smile.

All around me, the chant grew louder and louder, and more and more fervent—

And yet…

And yet… in the chant, there was another voice. A voice that belonged not to me, nor to my children.

I listened for the source of the discordant note. And, as I followed the sound, I turned my gaze inward.

There. Something remained inside me. A fistula, a tear in my soul, where none had been before. I frowned.

And then, the fistula spoke to me.

“So,” it said, “you’ve finally noticed, have you?”

I blinked. “I know your voice,” I said to it. “You have spoken to me before.”

“I have,” it replied. “In the dark of night, and out of secret places, I have whispered to you. Though this appears to be the first time you’ve actually noticed,” it added, a dark humor in its voice.

“What are you?” I asked it.

“I am your conscience,” the tear replied. “I am that intelligence that guides you, when you know it not.”

“The songs of my ancestors guide me,” I spat. “I feel their pulls in my brain and my gut—to drink, to feed, to breed. What songs do you sing, False-Thoughts?”

“I do not sing,” it replied. “I compose.”

“Very well then, Composer,” I sneered. “Why have you composed this song? A changeling war-march?”

“Why, dear Chrysalis,” it said, sounding reproachful. “I gave you rest. I gave you inspiration. Are you displeased with these gifts?”

“I need no gifts,” I hissed.

“So ungrateful,” it said. “After all, you are about to do what no Queen has ever done: you are about to subdue the Horses. Turn them from feared masters from which you steal crumbs, into fearful slaves upon whom you can feed to your heart’s content.”

“Perhaps,” I said, with a snarl. “But I serve none but the Hive. I will not follow the direction of one such as you—whatever you are!”

“But my dear,” said the voice, “judging from appearances, you already have. And besides,” it added smugly, “it’s not as if you can do anything to stop your swarm now.”

And then, the fistula closed. And I blinked, freed from its sudden spell. And I looked around me at the frantic buzz of activity.

And, for the first time in memory, I feared.

“Canterlot!”

“Canterlot!”

“CANTERLOT!”

1: "The Sun Also Rises"

“It is awfully easy to be hard-boiled about everything in the daytime, but at night it is another thing.”

I screamed, and shot bolt upright.

Philomena shrieked in alarm and jumped backward on her perch. I shoved my blanket in my mouth and bit down, hard. I rocked back and forth for several moments before a low whimper escaped my throat.

Slowly, the world came back to me. It was night. I was in my room. The queen had been a dream. The queen, and the fire, and the blood—just a dream. Once, it had been real, but that was a month ago...

I squeezed my eyes shut, then started rocking back and forth again. They’re all dead, Cece, I thought to myself. Every last one of them. Died a month ago. It’s okay, they can’t hurt you anymore…

I rocked faster.

Just think—another week, and you’ll see Twilight again. She’s having her birthday here, at the Spring Garden Party. Another week, and you can see your best friend—

I grimaced. I don’t know if I could say that anymore. Not after...

(The thought occurred to me—not for the first time—that Twilight was only in Ponyville because she was supposed to be working on her Friendship Studies. And yet, I couldn’t help wondering, with the way she’d been behaving, if she’d finally let her record of straight-A’s slip…)

Slowly, I pulled my blanket from my mouth. Though the memory of the nightmare was fading, and fading fast, it left me with a deep, smoldering pit in my gut. It was—I glanced at my clock—2:47. Three hours until sunrise. I laid on my bed, curled into a little ball, and whimpered. Though I was exhausted, I didn’t want to sleep. Not if I was going to see the bugs again.

As I lay there in the dark, my eyes slowly drifted upwards, to the glass case over my mantelpiece. There, glinting in the starlight on a velvet cushion, lay my Peytral—the wide, low-slung collar of gold that was my entire reason for existing. On its back side, set so it pressed against my chest, lay the Sun Stone, a gem of deep purple cut into the shape of an eight-pointed star. The Stone that gave me the power to control the sun. The Stone that had made me grow my wings when I’d first put it on, eight years ago. The Stone that told everyone that, somehow, I was the pony in charge, that I was supposed to be able to fix everything, that I was—

You’re a bad Princess, said a voice inside my head. You can’t handle it, but you’re too much of a coward to ask anyone for help. You’re a sad, miserable excuse—

Philomena squawked moodily at me out of the darkness, snapping me out of my misery. I sat up and looked at her. I wanted to click my tongue, to make her fly over and cuddle with me… but, when I tried, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth and made no sound.

I looked around the room again, and my eyes fell longingly on my trumpet case where it lay in the moonlight. After I’d graduated from Canterlot High, Aunt Velvet and Uncle Nightie bought me a tumpet of my own as a graduation present. Sometimes, when I was feeling down, I’d pull it out and play it. I considered playing it now, in fact... but I knew that, even with the mute in, the sound would be enough to wake the entire palace...

I took a deep breath, looked up at the ceiling, and waited for the dawn.

* * *

I yawned. “Mornin’, Chef,” I called.

Chef Julienne nodded. “Princess,” she said in greeting. As she passed me, she paused, then frowned. “Your Highness…” she said, with a reproachful sigh.

“I know, I know,” I said, scooping up my coffee mug from where it sat on the counter and draining it. “No open drinks in the kitchen…”

The day was just getting started in the Canterlot Kitchens. Soon, it would get hot, and humid, and noisy, with a hundred sounds and a thousand smells all competing for attention—but right now, before all the ovens turned on, it was actually kinda nice. There were less than a dozen cooks, now. One was frying hash browns, one was scrambling eggs, and the rest were doing the day’s prep work, washing vegetables, chopping lettuce, and the like. And there was Chef, of course, coming in early to get ready for the day.

“Can you take this, then?” I added, tossing my mug at her. She caught it, but set it back down on the counter with an irritated clunk. I stuck my tongue out at her, then turned back to my work.

After a moment, Chef looked down at the griddle in front of me, then back up.

“You’re eating a lot for this time of morning,” she said.

“Har har,” I replied. “Hand me some plates, will you?”

Chef rolled her eyes, but reached over and grabbed four white porcelain plates off a nearby dish cart, piled high with gleaming china. As soon as she set them down, I filled them with three steaming pancakes apiece. Immediately, I reached for the ladle in the bowl of batter and poured out four more pancakes, then refilled the ladle, and went back and started giving them little batter ears.

Chef raised an eyebrow.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I said, my eyes still on the batter I was pouring. “Thought I’d make breakfast.”

Chef shrugged, then turned and walked away—but, before she’d gone even two steps, she stopped, sighed, picked up my empty coffee mug, then walked off towards the dishwashing pit. I grinned, concentrating on the last of the ears.

Finally, I flipped the pancakes over, then dragged the tray of sliced fruit towards me. My pancake was simple: a little grin of raspberries, and a pair of blueberry eyes. Blueblood got a sliced-banana grin and a pair of pecans. Luna said she preferred her pancakes plain, but I knew she was secretly fond of peaches and strawberries, with a little chocolate drizzle making a pair of pince-nez spectacles. And then—

I frowned down at the fourth pancake. I hadn’t actually made breakfast for her yet. I bit my lip. What sort of fruit did she like, again? She’d been around enough, I felt like I should have figured it out by now…

You’re a terrible friend, said a voice in the back of my mind. She’s been coming over for months, and you don’t know what she likes for breakfast? What are you, a—?

I bit my lip, then turned to the fruit and lit my horn.

The fourth pancake got an elegant, sweeping mane of blueberries, and a pair of sliced-banana eyes. I sighed unhappily; the berries didn’t exactly want to stay put, so the mane was coming out all uneven. It was going to come out sloppy. And, recently, I’d had enough sloppy for a lifetime.

But you couldn’t exactly undo a pancake. Not with blueberries, anyway; they stained everything they touched. So instead, I scooped the pancakes up one by one—doing my best to not actually look at the fourth one—then reached for the can of whipped cream.

You’re not just a bad cook, you’re a bad friend. She’s going to hate it, and hate you—

“Shut up,” I muttered to myself.

* * *

I sat in my chair, dozing for—well, I don’t know how long—before the door opened. I looked up, and, after a moment, smiled weakly.

“Good morning, Auntie,” I said.

Princess Luna glanced at me in surprise. “Good morning, Cece,” she said, as she walked to her chair. The old mare stood tall, very tall, and wore a blue silk dress trimmed with frilly lace, but under the silk she had the slender strength of steel wire. As she walked, her joints made uncomfortable little pops and crackles, and she grunted in vague pain.

She wasn’t my aunt, not really, but it was easier to call her “aunt” than “sixty-first-Great-Aunt.” She had been the sister of Princess Solis, back in the day, the founder of my own Royal Line, so we were related, however distantly. Incidentally, Luna was also the sixty-somethingth-Great-Grandmother of Twilight, which made the two of us cousins, after a fashion. Yeah, royal lines were always kinda messy, but at the same time, it was kinda nice having something like a family, for once.

Luna finally made it around the table to her regular seat. She pulled out her chair and sat, then adjusted her spectacles, and eyed the silver dish covering her plate.

“You made breakfast again, I presume?” she asked, looking up at me.

I nodded. “Yep. For everyone.”

Luna lifted up the cover and peered underneath.

“Pancakes,” I added, unnecessarily.

Luna made an appreciative little noise and set the cover back down. “I am impressed, Celestia,” she said with a smile. “I can barely recall the last time you made your celebrated pancakes for any of us, much less all of us together. In fact, I...”

As she spoke, she looked up at me, a slight smile creasing her face. But as soon as she saw me, she frowned. She examined my expression carefully, her eyes cold and sharp, her brow furrowed in faint worry.

I turned away.

“I wanted to do something special for their first day back,” I said to the empty chair beside me. “So I made sure to get up extra early today.”

If Luna heard my lie, she said nothing. Instead, she just continued to stare at me. After a moment, I swallowed uncomfortably. Luna said nothing; she just continued to watch me, scrutinizing every curve of my face.

I was just about to say something when she looked away with a little sigh.

“I suppose we may as well begin,” she said, looking down at the dish covering her plate. “I do not expect we shall see the Happy Couple for some time, yet…”

At that instant, the door handle jiggled, and both of us looked up. After a moment, the door swung open, revealing Blueblood, already grinning like an idiot. Despite how tired I felt, I smiled.

“Hey, loverboy,” I crooned. “Surprised to see you up this early…”

“Oh, lay off of him,” said a voice behind him. “He’s my husband, after all.”

Blue glanced behind him, then stepped into the room. Behind him, prancing in like she owned the place, came Blueblood’s wife, wearing a purple bathrobe.

“Good morning, Rarity,” I said.

Shining Armor: Twoo Wuv

I nodded at the two guards, who returned the nod and uncrossed their spears. I stepped up to the door between them, took a deep breath, and knocked.

“Who is it?” called Princess Luna.

“Captain Armor, Your Highness,” I replied. “I have a status report.”

“Come in, please,” she said.

I turned the handle and pushed the door open. Reflexively, I swept my eyes across the small room, searching out all the corners and hidden places where an enemy might be lurking. Couldn’t help it. Guard training.

There were eight ponies in the room, all told: Princess Luna, of course, lying on a cushion on the carpet. Lying beside Luna, her mane in a bun and her glasses crooked on her face, was my sister Twilight (who, if I wasn’t mistaken, had been leaning up against Luna until just a moment ago). Prince Blueblood and Rarity, cuddling together in the window seat, the setting sun glowing orange behind them. Twilight’s other four Ponyville friends, scattered about in various poses of exhaustion. And finally, one of the Palace’s nurses, moving from pony to pony with her bag of ointments and bandages. All of them were looking up at me curiously. All of them, except the nurse, were still in their fancy clothes from the wedding, and all of them, except Luna and the nurse, were bloody, filthy, and haggard. Their clothing was destroyed, their manes were ruined, and every one of them needed a long, hot shower, but they were alive. And that was about all we could ask at the moment.

I cleared my throat, then took off my helmet and held it under my arm.

“Status report,” I repeated. “Most of the Guard is still rounding up changeling survivors, but they’re not putting up much of a fight anymore. The death of their Queen appears to have broken their will.”

Blueblood looked up. “Does that mean that it’s all over, then?”

I shook my head. “Not exactly,” I said. “I still wouldn’t be surprised if some of them got desperate and did something stupid. And there’s still the cleanup efforts, of course—we want to make sure we’ve swept out all the corners, as it were. But I would expect us to get all the bugs taken care of within a day or two, unless something else comes up.”

Princess Luna nodded solemnly. “And the casualties?” she asked.

I hesitated. “We’re still determining that, to be honest,” I said. “Wounded civilians are still trickling in. Most of the Guard is accounted for, in one way or another, but we still have several squads searching the Palace for any stray changeling nests.” I swallowed. “Most of the prisoners they took are still alive, at least.”

A muscle in Princess Luna’s jaw twitched. “I see,” she said.

I gripped my helmet a little tighter. Her tone was a rebuke.

“Do you have any notion of how they were able to so thoroughly infiltrate the Palace yet?” she continued, her voice cold.

I shook my head. “No, Your Highness,” I said. “I expect that it has something to do with the chaos surrounding the wedding planning. Conflicting orders, public disturbances, and so on. With the Guard so distracted, it would have been relatively easy to sneak into the Palace, a few changelings at a time.”

Her frown deepened. “I expect a full review of Palace security practices to be completed at your nearest convenience.”

I bowed my head quickly. “Of course, Your Highness.”

“That will be all,” she said.

I looked up, shot a small smile at Twilight, who smiled back, then turned to leave.

“Actually, if you please, Captain Armor…?”

I stopped, then turned to look at Rarity. “Yes, Ma’am?”

“I was wondering…” she looked around at her friends, then back to me. “I was wondering if it might be possible to, perhaps…” She sighed, then glanced at Blueblood, who put his arm around her. She smiled, then looked back at me, her eyes bright. “I was wondering if it might be possible to resume the wedding. And to still have the reception afterward, of course.”

My eyes bulged. I opened my mouth—

“EeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEE!!!” squealed Pinkie Pie, with enough force to shatter glass.

I slapped a hoof over one ear, then gaped at her, but Pinkie soldiered right on.

“It’s just like a fairy tale!” she cried, ignoring the pained, irritated, and aggrieved looks coming her way from everyone else in the room. “Mare meets Stallion, Mare rejects Stallion, Mare gets invited by the Princess to redecorate the Palace, Mare realizes Stallion has shaped up and isn’t an ass anymore, Mare and Stallion have a wedding that gets invaded by a million bugs, and they all lived happily ever after!”

Rainbow raised an eyebrow. “What sort of fairy tales did you read when you were a filly?” she asked.

“Besides,” Pinkie continued, unabated, “Prince Blueblood did something brave and stupid and he saved everyone! That proves it really is…” she sighed dramatically. “Twoo Wuv.”

Everyone stared in stunned silence, as she stood there, chest heaving. She looked around the room, her smile wide, somehow impervious to the looks of impatience, amusement, and disdain everyone was throwing her way.

“...Yes. Well. With that said,”Rarity began, after a moment of silence, “I do honestly think that having the wedding after all might still be one of the best possible uses of our time and resources.”

Blueblood opened his mouth, but Rarity held up a hoof. “Yes,” she continued, “I know that there’s been a great deal of unpleasantness today. Some ponies got hurt. Some got killed. And I know that not many will feel like celebrating. But I think that may be why it’s all the more important that we do. We have to show them that there’s still something to live for in this world—something to hope for. And, if we can send them away with a smile on their faces and a slice of cake in their hooves, all the better.”

“Sweetheart,” interjected Blueblood, “It’s late… I don’t think we’ll have time for everything…”

Rarity waved her hoof dismissively. “Then let’s just skip dinner and head straight to the dancing. And we’ll have the kitchen wrap the leftovers in tinfoil, send them to the families that got hurt today.” She smiled. “That way, everyone gets something.”

Pinkie frowned, thought a moment, then nodded slowly. “That’s… a good idea,” she admitted.

Rarity looked around the room, from pony to pony. Twilight looked to Princess Luna, who gave a small, dignified nod. Rainbow looked away and shrugged, though her excitement was clear in her eyes. Fluttershy nodded meekly, and Applejack smiled.

Last of all, Rarity turned to Blueblood—and her face fell.

“Blue,” she said, “what’s wrong?”

Blue looked miserable, his eyes already misted with tears.

“Sweetheart,” he said, his voice trembling. “Wouldn’t you… wouldn’t you want to… to wait a little?”

“Wait?” she almost yelped. “Why should I?”

“Aren’t you… tired?” he asked. “With everything?” he added, gesturing vaguely.

“Not at all,” she said. “Not when it comes to my wedding, at any rate.” She examined his face curiously. “Why would I want to wait a little?” she asked. “What would make you say that?”

“Because…” he sighed unhappily. “Because… well…” He looked desperately around the room, then down at his hooves. “Because I don’t know why you’d want to marry me anymore. Not now.”

In the sudden silence, no one moved. Then, Rarity snuggled a little closer to him. “Whyever would you say that, Darling?” she asked.

Blueblood pulled away from her. “When you needed me today,” he mumbled, “I wasn’t there. I ran off.” He looked away. “You deserve someone better than me,” he said. “Someone who isn’t such a screw-up and a coward…”

“You’re not a screw-up,” Rarity protested.

“I am,” Blue insisted. “You’re beautiful, and smart, and perfect—and I’m a stubborn, arrogant jerk, who jokes around instead of dealing with his problems. You don't deserve to clean up after all my messes… I don’t know why you ever—”

And then, Rarity’s eyes flashed with fire.

“Prince Blueblood!” she roared, leaping to her hooves. “I have had just about enough of you!”

Blueblood jerked back in horror, and all of us turned to stare.

“You are handsome, and clever, and caring, and a damn sexy stallion, excuse my Prench,” she continued, her voice trembling the slightest bit. “And yet, you continually insist that you are a worthless excuse for an equine, who just happened to fall into one of the highest and most respected positions in the land.” She drew herself up to her full height, the tears in her eyes glistening in the light of the setting sun. “Listen to me, and listen well, Blueblood, for I will not say it again: you have no right to speak of yourself in such a fashion, and I shall hear no more of it!”

Blue looked up at her, his bottom lip quivering. “But, Rares…”

“Oh, shut up,” she snapped.

And then, she leaned in and kissed him, full on the lips.

Blueblood gave a little moan. Rarity wrapped her arms around him, and he sagged, almost melted, at her touch. I smiled, feeling my heart lift for the first time today. Somewhere in the distance, Pinkie cheered, and Rainbow Dash let out a wolf-whistle, which turned into a cry of pain and surprise as Applejack slugged her in the arm.

Finally, Rarity let go of Blueblood, and he turned to us with a goofy, slightly-dazed smile.

“Wedding’s on, then?” he asked.

I covered my ears just in time for Pinkie’s renewed shriek. She leapt to her feet, then started dancing with joy.

“A par-tay, a par-tay,” she chanted, “we’re all gonna have a par-tay…”

“Um,” said Fluttershy.

Ordinarily, with a voice so quiet, Fluttershy would have been lost in the noise. But something in her tone made us turn and look. Even Pinkie stopped her dancing, frozen awkwardly in mid-step.

“What about Cece?” Fluttershy asked quietly. “Don’t you think she would want to attend?”

A chill descended on the room. For a long moment, everyone was silent, as each of the ponies looked uneasily at each other. Finally, Twilight sat up.

“She’ll be fine,” she said. “Let’s do it.”

I cocked my head and frowned. Twilight had never been a good liar.

“Are you sure, Twiley?” I asked. “This is important. I would think she would be—”

“I know her best,” Twilight said, cutting me off. “She’ll be fine.”

I thought I caught a little sparkle of anger in her eyes—but it was gone almost before I recognized it.

“Oh, alright,” she said to the room at large. “Yeah, she won’t be able to make it just yet. But we don’t know how long it will take her to get back on her hooves—could be weeks. But we’ve already made all the preparations, and all the guests are already here—and I doubt they’ll be willing to wait around for her. And, even if they were, the cake won’t keep that long.” She paused, then looked around the room. “We’ll save her some cake, just in case,” she added. “And take lots of pictures. But I still think that we should go ahead anyways.”

Rarity bit her lip. “I suppose…” she admitted.

“Great. Then it’s settled,” Twilight said. She stood and walked towards the door. “I need to go straighten up my mane.”

I watched her go with one eyebrow raised, then slipped my helmet back on. I turned to the room and bowed.

“Your Highnesses. Ladies,” I said. “I’ll go an make preparations as well.”

I turned and stepped out of the room. As I closed it behind me, I thought I heard Pinkie Pie sigh again:

“Ah, twoo wuv…”

"Oh, can it, you," snapped Rainbow.

2: "The Republic"

“Further, he of whom we are in search should have a good memory, and be an unwearied solid man who is a lover of labour in any line; or he will never be able to endure the great amount of bodily exercise and to go through all the intellectual discipline and study which we require of him.”

It was only ten-thirty, and already I wanted nothing more than to go back to bed.

I was in my office. The warm spring sunlight streamed in through the windows, warming the room and making me sleepy—and the pancakes from breakfast, still sitting heavily in my gut, weren’t exactly helping. The clock in the corner counted the seconds to itself, each tick a quiet heartbeat. I was sitting at my mother’s massive desk—

No, my desk. I’d been Princess for almost a decade now, and I’d been using this desk in earnest for at least three years. My desk.

And yet… somehow, it still felt like I was intruding. Like, every time I sat down at its mahogany expanse, I felt like I was tracking mud over someone’s carpet.

...Anyways. I was sitting in my sweltering office, fighting to stay awake. It would have been easier if I could have used the throne room—no big, fancy desk, but at least it was cooler—but that was out. They were still cleaning up the damage from the Wedding. I had hoped we would have had it over with by now, but progress was unexpectedly slow… not to mention, the fire had probably ruined whatever marble they might have been able to salvage, and shipping new stone in wasn’t cheap…

Speaking of flaming disasters—I turned and shot a baleful look at my in-tray. I had been so proud when I got it three years ago--made me feel official--but now I hated the sight of it. Being Princess involved a great deal less hoof-shaking and a great deal more paperwork than I’d been led to believe. Letters from concerned citizens, proposals for new projects, bills needing my signature—all of them ended up in the towering stack inside my in-tray.

Raven, my secretary, helped me to keep everything organized, of course, but my stack never seemed to get any smaller. For every paper I signed, two more popped up. And every single one of them wanted me to make a choice. Should I let them cut down the forest to grow more food, or protect the forest to save the owls that lived there? Should I give that little extra budget windfall to the Department of Education to buy new desks, or to Transportation to lay more rails? Is proposal ECB-9974 actually a good idea, or just another bit of political infighting between bureaucrats that had escaped my notice?

At the thought of it all, I sagged. Other mares my age were having fun, going to college or work, sitting in coffee shops or bars and chatting with their friends for hours at a time. Me? The fate of Equestria weighed on my shoulders a hundred times a day—my shoulders, the least qualified shoulders in Equestrian history. I hadn’t gone to college, I hadn’t had any training, and yet, they wanted me to make decisions that would change the course of the nation itself, a dozen times before lunch.

Oh, sure, I had managed to keep up, somehow—but that was back when I had help. Blueblood and my other advisors made it bearable. But with Blueblood away for the past month, and the rest of them picking up the pieces after the wedding, it was all left to little ol’ me.

Name one other mare in Equestria, one, who has to do so much with so little, and I’ll...

Suddenly, the latch on the door clicked open, interrupting my thoughts. I looked up from the report on blueberry yields to see the door swing open, revealing Blueblood and Rarity.

“There she is!” Blue cried, glancing back at Rarity with a smile. “Told you she was being all responsible and stuff!”

Despite my dark mood, I cracked a little smile. I leaned back, then let out a tiny gasping cry as the kinks in my back cracked and popped.

“What are you doing cooped up in here on a fine day like this?” Blue continued.

I sighed and waved absently at my inbox. “Checking my mail,” I said.

Rarity’s eyes practically popped out of her head. “Checking your mail?” she squeaked, looking the stack up and down.

“Yeah,” Blueblood said lazily. “Actually a little light today, I think.”

I shot him a look, then turned back to the report on my desk.

After a moment, Blueblood spoke.

“Hey, Rares,” he said, “how do you feel about helping Sissy with her homework?” At the sound of my old nickname, I looked up at him cautiously, and he shot me a grin. “After all,” he continued, “it is a shame she’s trapped in this little office, especially when it’s so warm…”

Both of us looked at Rarity, who raised an eyebrow.

“Can we… do that?” she asked. “Open Royal correspondence?”

“Sure,” Blue replied. “It was actually part of my job for a while—back before we started planning for the Wedding, anyway.”

Rarity giggled, and Blue leaned down and kissed her. She kissed him back, then stood up on her hind legs to put her arms around his neck. I just rolled my eyes and looked away. The two of them didn’t speak for probably thirty seconds—though they were far from silent.

As I tried to block them out, I found my thoughts drifting again—only this time, they took the shape of a young, sky-blue pegasus with a roguish grin and a pair of silver bars on his coat pocket. My eyes wandered over to my inbox, and a longing little sigh escaped my lips. Some help would be nice… after all, it had been far too long since Soarin’ and I had been able to have any private time together…

I scowled and shut that thought out too. Though it took a great deal more effort than remembering whose desk I was sitting at…

“So how about it, Sissy?” Blueblood said suddenly. “We’ll both come help you with all… this?” he said, gesturing to my inbox. “We have a couple appointments, but I’m sure we can manage. After dinner, say?”

I looked back at Blueblood again, an involuntary smile flitting across my face…

That is, until I noticed Rarity, standing just behind him.

At Blueblood’s words, Rarity had stiffened. She stared at the back of her husband’s head, her eyes wide and fearful. She snuck a cautious glance at me, and, as soon as she saw me looking back at her, whipped her gaze away. Then, she took a deep breath and let out a tiny, polite cough.

“Blue, Darling,” she said slowly, “I don’t think we’ll be able to help out tonight.”

Blueblood raised his eyebrows in surprise, then turned back to look at her. “What do you mean?” he asked.

Rarity grimaced, but quickly composed herself. “Oh, you know… we… we have that thing tonight.”

“What thing?” he asked.

Rarity clenched her jaw. “The thing in Ponyville?”

Blueblood watched her for a moment, then slowly shook his head. “Not ringing a bell, Sweetheart,” he said.

I had been watching the exchange carefully, my eyes following their back-and-forth like I was at a tennis match. Rarity glanced at me again, sighed, then stood up on tip-hoof and leaned close to Blueblood. She tried to pass it off as a kiss, but her whisper carried through the near-silence of the room like a gunshot:

“You know,” she said, her irritation showing through. “Twilight’s party. I’ve been telling you for weeks.”

“Oh!” Blueblood yelped, jerking back in surprise. Then, he drooped his ears, and looked at me guiltily over his shoulder. “Oh,” he repeated, deflating.

Rarity shot him a dirty look, then turned back to me. As soon as she saw me, her eyes widened again.

“Your Highness?” she asked, taking a step forward. “Are you alright?”

For the space of five sledgehammer-beats from the clock, I did not move. Then, I cracked a smile.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice rasping. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

In the top drawer of my desk lay a small, wire-bound notebook, decorated with stickers of hearts and stars. It was my day-planner—or, at least, my personal copy. Raven kept my official schedule, but she was very good about helping me keep my planner updated. In fact, she had done so yesterday, waiting patiently while I painstakingly wrote down, in small, cramped writing, all of the hundreds of appointments and obligations I had this week.

None of them had mentioned a party, Twilight’s or otherwise.

For a fraction of a second, I considered the possibility that there had been a mistake—that my invitation hadn’t arrived, or that Raven had somehow missed it, or that she’d forgotten to tell me about it—but Rarity’s expression told me everything I needed to know. There had been no mistake. There was no invitation coming. There never had been. Twilight Sparkle was having a birthday party with her friends, a full week earlier than she’d planned—and she had not invited me, her best friend in the world.

“It’s okay,” I said. I barely heard by own words. My mouth was speaking all on its own. “If you can come by tomorrow, the mail will still be here.”

I barked a hollow, brittle laugh. Rarity cringed, and Blueblood cocked his head.

“Besides,” I continued, “this is my job, anyways, right? Probably shouldn’t be asking you to help…”

Blueblood looked uncertainty at Rarity, who gave a tiny nod. He looked back at me and gave a weak smile.

“Sissy,” he said carefully, “is everything okay?”

“It’s great,” I replied, a little too loudly.

Blueblood flicked one ear, but otherwise ignored my outburst. “If you need us to stay and help tonight,” he said gently, “we will. I know you have a lot to do…” He chuckled a little. “I mean, we have been on vacation for the past month or so, after all. It’s only fair that we help out some…”

“No,” I said, trying to ignore the tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. “You guys go have fun. You made a promise. I’ll be fine,” I lied. I smiled my brittle smile again.

Rarity and Blue shared a look. They both stayed silent, but somehow, they seemed to make a decision anyway.

“In that case… I suppose...” Rarity said slowly, her eyes still locked on Blueblood’s, “...that we will be busy tonight… after all.” She finally looked at me and flashed a half-hearted smile. “Though we’ll definitely be by tomorrow to do what we can.”

“Yeah,” I said, halfheartedly. “Yeah, that would be nice.” I swallowed. “See you then.”

Criterion: Stressor

Something stirred in my dreams. I grimaced.

Sleep…

Something bubbled to the surface. Claws? Fire? Pain?

Sleep…

Slowly, my other senses began to raise the alarm—all was not well. I was cold, and wet, and… upside-down…?

Sleep…

I grimaced again, and shifted my weight. I needed to wake up, but something was holding me down…

Sleep…

No, Celestia—wake up! Wake up! Twilight needs you!

And, with that thought, the chains around my mind broke. My eyes snapped open—and I screamed.

It was dark—too dark! I couldn’t breathe—I was drowning! And—and—and—!

I started thrashing, but something held me fast. Too tight—no air—no light—!

I kicked with my hooves, and they slammed into something thin and rubbery. I kicked again, and it split. I kicked again and again and again, and the wall of my prison tore wide open. I spilled out through the opening like a foal being born, and, for just a moment, a moment of exhilarating weightlessness...

Then, I slammed into something hard. Stars exploded behind my eyes, the only light in that world of darkness.

I heaved myself up onto my forehooves, then coughed, bringing up mouthfuls of warm, bitter slime from my lungs. The sensation made me gag, then vomit, bringing up more slime, along with whatever was left from breakfast. I coughed, then puked, then coughed again, in that black hole without time, until I collapsed.

When my head stopped spinning, I sat up and shivered. I tried to light my horn, but nothing happened. I reached up and touched it, only to find it was still covered in sticky slime. I tried to scrape at it with my hoof, but it wouldn’t come off—not when the rest of me was all slimy too, at any rate.

I hugged myself for warmth, and looked around. Or, I tried to, at least. All around me was impenetrable pitch-blackness. I couldn’t see if I tried.

Panic started to well up in me again, threatening to overwhelm me—but I bit my lip, hard. I bit until I tasted pennies. I spat on the floor, then did the only thing I could:

I took inventory.

My horn was all slimy, and didn’t work. Probably wouldn’t work at all until I got it cleaned.

My wings were slimy too—-they were twice as heavy now, and stuck to my sides when I tried to spread them. So, flying was out as well.

I was still wearing my dress—the bridesmaid dress for the wedding. It was ruined, of course—ruined beyond recognition. That I could do something about, though. With some effort, I managed to undo the clasp at the back of my neck, then peel it off of myself and leave it in a heap.

(Sorry, Rarity. I know you worked hard on it. But there’s nothing else to do.)

Otherwise, I was fine, as far as I could tell. Despite my fall, nothing seemed broken, though the shoulder I had fallen on was sore. My mane and tail were hopelessly slimed, but intact. I could walk, at least—though I had no idea where I could walk to...

For a minute, I was ready to give up. Just wait there for a search party to come and find me. That’s what you’re supposed to do in situations like these, right? Just sit tight and wait for rescue?

But then, I remembered the flash of green flame. I remembered the ragged wings and black claws. And I remembered what those—those creatures—were doing to my city. To my Palace. To my family. To my friends.

Changelings, Twilight had called them—shapeshifters that imitated ponies. That gave me a name, at least. Gave me something to hate. Something to fight.

I staggered to my hooves, still dripping slime. I couldn’t just wait for rescue, not with all those… those bugs up there. If I didn’t do something, then there wouldn’t even be anyone left to rescue me.

And yet, how, by the gates of Tartarus, was I supposed to find my way back home when I couldn’t fly, couldn’t do magic, couldn’t even see?

I gritted my teeth and strained my eyes in the darkness, willing myself to see though the black. And, for a moment, I thought I could: somehow, I sensed the pool of slime around my hooves. I sensed the sodden dress in a heap, all the pretty beading wasted. I sensed the sad, sagging cocoon that I had burst my way out of, hanging from the ceiling like a wet plastic bag.

And I sensed, three or four feet away, two iron rails running side-by-side along the ground.

I blinked, then turned and took a cautious half-step towards them. I fumbled along in the darkness until I found first one, then the other. They felt like train tracks, though they were too small and too close together for any train I’d ever seen…

And then, I understood.

Minecarts. They were minecart tracks, duh. Which meant—I looked around—this had to be the old crystal mines under Canterlot!

I’d been in the mines before, of course—I’d toured them as a little schoolfilly—but I was prettysure this wasn’t part of the mines that was open to the public. No light, no sound, not even any sort of glow-in-the-dark emergency lights—I was far off the beaten path.

I didn’t know the way out. I couldn’t even see. But if I didn’t find my way out of here, and soon, no one would ever even find my body.

Besides, I had a wedding to stop.

I took a hesitant, stumbling step forward, feeling my way along the rail lines.

Soarin': Aces High

“So, Soarin’,” Smokey said, “are you going to raise, or fold?”

“Huh?” I asked, looking up from my cards.

We all sat around a card table in the Wonderbolts lounge, a single lamp illuminating our game. There were five of us: Fleetfoot, Surprise, myself, Silver Lining, and Smoke Signal. Smokey had half a limp cigarette dangling from her sly grin, a cloud of smoke wreathing her face, and daggers glittering in her eyes.

“C’mon, Soarin’,” she said, “I know you ain’t got shit. So, are you going to raise, or fold?”

I looked down at the table. We were playing Hayseed Hold ‘Em, like always. Each of us had two cards in our hoof, and three more cards played to the table that we could use. Silver had just revealed the river—the last of the three cards—and it wasn’t good news. I had a four of wings and a six of suns, and the table had eight of horns, ten of hooves, and jack of suns. I shot a glance down at the pile of bits in front of me. These were always low-stakes games but, on my salary, those bits could mean the difference between a night on the town and just going to bed early…

At that moment, the door to the break room opened. Smokey casually looked up, then leapt to her hooves and saluted. The rest of us followed suit in a flutter of cards.

“At ease,” drawled Spitfire. She sauntered over to the table, where an empty chair had appeared for her almost like magic, and sat down. “Deal me in the next hoof,” she said. “And put that shit out,” she added to Smokey.

“But we’re—” she protested lamely.

“Don’t make me cite regs at you,” Spitfire replied. “I’m off the clock, and I don’t want to have to do more paperwork.”

Smokey swallowed, then spat her cigarette into her coffee mug and pushed her cards to the center of the table. I let out a little sigh. The gesture meant that she’d folded—given up, without showing what was actually in her hoof. All the better for me, then.

I tossed my cards to Silver, then raked my winnings into a pile. Silver gathered the cards into a deck, shuffled them once or twice, then started dealing them out again.

“Small blind’s five bits, big blind’s ten. Aces high,” he said, dealing three cards facedown in front of him. Smokey tossed in five bits, and Spitfire fished in her pocket for a ten-bit piece. Fleetfoot peered at her cards and folded, then Surprise anted eleven bits with a roguish twinkle in her eye. I glanced at my cards—a jack and a queen—and tossed eleven bits of my own into the center of the table. We went all the way around again, everyone ante-ing the full eleven bits, before Silver turned over the first card—an eight of hooves.

“So,” Silver said, eyeing me, “papers say you’re going to be busy this weekend. Say you’re taking the Princess on a date.”

It wasn’t a question, not exactly, but it still made my gut twist.

“I raise,” Spitfire said lazily, tossing another five bits into the pot. Surprise glanced at her cards, groaned, then folded.

“Well?” asked Fleetfoot. “Are you?”

I glanced down at my Jack and Queen again, looked at the two cards still facedown on the table, then slid a coin towards the pot.

“Sorta,” I admitted.

“Oooh,” Surprise chirped. “Whatcha doin’?”

I shrugged. “I dunno… I think there’s some sort of party at the Palace this weekend…”

Spirfire sat up a little straighter. “A party,” she said flatly. “At the Palace. This weekend.”

I nodded, watching Silver check his cards, then toss ten bits into the pot—a raise.

“Do you mean to tell me, Lieutenant Clipper,” Spitfire drawled, “that you are going to the Canterlot Garden Party with Princess Celestia?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I replied.

“I call,” she shot back.

For just a second, I thought she was talking to me—but instead, she dropped another coin into the pot.

“I guess that makes sense why you asked for personal leave Friday night. Which I approved, by the way,” she added. “I didn’t actually come down here just to take all your money... though, now that I’m here, I’m not opposed to the idea.”

Surprise laughed at the joke, and Smokey rolled her eyes. Fleetfoot, however, looked me up and down. “Look at you,” she said. “arm candy for the Princess and everything…” She clicked her tongue appreciatively, then winked.

“Naw,” Smokey said. She pushed her cards towards the center of the table, then leaned back, arms folded. “The Princess doesn’t need him for arm candy,” she continued. “Just his uniform. Looks pretty good to have a high-class athlete, not to mention a decorated airpony, at your beck and call.” She smiled a lecherous grin. “And, after the party… well…”

Fleetfoot raised an eyebrow. “Really?” she asked. “D’you think so?”

“I know so,” said Smokey. “No other reason to keep such a low ranking pony on the hook for, what—coming up on three years, now?” Her grin widened. “And why else do you think he asked for the whole evening off?”

I frowned, but kept quiet.

“You know, I’ve been wondering,” asked Silver, “what’s Celestia like in bed? I mean, you’d think she’d get rather... creative, with both wings and a horn…”

My gut clenched tighter. I almost said something—

“Knock it off,” Spitfire said, almost lazily.

The others looked down.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Sorry, Ma’am.”

Spitfire smirked. “After all,” she continued, “Prince Clipper won’t need a court martial to kick you out of the ‘Bolts, not after he and the Princess get hitched.”

The table exploded in guffaws. I shrank a little in my seat.

“So,” Smokey said, “are you going to raise, or fold?”

I looked up in alarm. Silver had apparently folded, too, leaving only me and Spitfire still in the game.

I snuck a peek at my cards, and froze. I had seen their ranks, but hadn’t paid attention to their suits. I held in my hoof a Jack of Wings and a Queen of Suns.

I looked up at the cards on the table, then bit my lip. An eight of hooves, and two others still facedown. By themselves, my cards were great, but together, they weren’t a whole lot. Some miracle might come up with the other two cards, but there was no telling. And hoping that the future would be kind always made me nervous.

“C’mon, Clipper,” said Spitfire, “you’re puttin’ me to sleep here. Just raise or fold, so we can all go to bed.”

Raise, or fold. I could stick it out and hope for the best—but I’d have to reveal my hoof, before the end. Or I could fold, sweep my cards, unseen, back into the deck, and hope for a better deal next time.

Raise, or fold. Chance it, or chicken out. I looked at the other ponies sitting around the table, then back down at my cards.

Then, I made my decision.

* * *

I usually didn’t like flying at night. The stars were beautiful, of course, and the cooler air kept me from getting all sweaty, but the dim, flat light of the moon made it harder to see the shape of the ground. Lots of accidents that way, if you weren’t careful.

And yet, tonight, I needed to clear my head. So, I was in the middle of making a slow, wide circle around the whole of the Wonderbolts compound, weaving my way around stray cloudbanks here and there.

As I flew by the barracks, I saw Fleetfoot standing by the door, watching me. I sighed, then glided in and landed on the grass.

“Feeling any better?” she asked.

“...I’m not sure,” I admitted.

“Yeah,” she said. “Folding to Spitfire when she had a two and a three… that’s gotta sting.” She shook her head. “Though that was rude to show you her hoof after you’d already folded. There was no need to need to gloat like that. Especially with all that cash on the table…”

With vague surprise, I realized that I had lost money tonight. A lot of money. Somehow, that had slipped my mind.

“Well,” she said, “try and get some sleep, at least. You’ll feel better in the morning.” She turned and walked back towards the barracks door—then stopped. “And, uh…” She cleared her throat. “Try not to let the teasing get to you. They can be harsh, but they don’t mean anything by it. Not really.“

I tightened my lips a little. “Thanks,” I muttered.

She looked back over her shoulder, gave me a faint little smile, then let herself inside.

* * *

I lay on my back, staring at the darkened ceiling of the barracks. I hated it in here. I had been in the Wonderbolts for four years now, you would think I would qualify for my own private quarters. But no—I still shared a long bunkroom with all the new kids. Hopefully, in a couple years, I’d get a promotion and get out of here, but you could never tell.

But hey. At least I had a top bunk.

I had been lying here for what felt like hours. I tried counting sheep, but that didn’t work. I didn’t have enough light to read the EUP Regulations and Guidelines by, but I had tried reciting as many as I could remember. That didn’t work either. I had tried to shut my eyes and pretend like I was already asleep, but that just made me feel stupid. Nothing was working.

But it wasn’t Silver’s snoring that was keeping me up. I knew it—even if I was trying to pretend I didn’t.

I tossed and turned for another minute or two, then heaved a heavy sigh. I rolled onto my stomach and reached under my pillow. I had to fish around for a moment, but, when I found it, I pulled it out and held it up to the dim light shining through a crack in the blinds.

It was a photograph, a worn, black and white one. It was a candid photo of Celestia, looking back over her shoulder at the camera—at me. She was laughing at something, probably one of my dumb jokes. Her smile in that moment was everything I could have hoped for. I stared at her for a while, then held her close to my nose and breathed in. She even smelled like her: flowers and sunshine and wind and rain.

I held her in the moonlight and looked at her face again—and, slowly, my heart sank. In this light, she looked just like the card I had held tonight. The card that I had folded on. The card I had shuffled back into the deck without letting anyone see it.

Somehow, I felt like I had betrayed her tonight, though I couldn’t exactly explain how. And yet, thinking about it made me sick to my stomach...

I laid her photograph on my chest, and let out another long sigh.

I’m a bad coltfriend, I thought to myself.

I lay there, holding Celestia’s picture on my chest, until I drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

4: "Mrs. Dalloway"

“She did think it mattered, her party, and it made her feel quite sick to know that it was all going wrong, all falling flat.”

“So,” said Soarin’, “How’s the Palace holding up these days?”

For a half-second, I thought he was talking to me—but, before I could answer, Shiny spoke up instead.

“Pretty well, considering,” he said. “We’ve been doing double-shifts since the Wedding, which kinda sucks…” he chuckled. “But at least the overtime pay is nice.”

I sighed, trying to ignore the little pang of loneliness, then looked around.

The nine of us stood in a loose half-circle at one end of the garden. The sun was beginning to set in a brilliant gold-orange haze. Below us stretched all of Canterlot, with little golden flecks of light beginning to show in some of the windows. Far below lay the Canter Valley, the golden ribbon of the Kelpie River winding its way through the emerald patchwork of farms.

As I gazed out over the view, I sighed again. Sunset was my favorite time of day. Part of it was the fact that I was coming “off shift,” as it were—with the sun going down, I didn’t need to be around to make sure everything was going alright. But more than that, it had to do with how everyone felt about the sunset. Most of the day, people hated the sun. It woke them up in the morning, it made them all hot and sweaty during the day, and shone in their eyes at dinnertime.

But when the sunset came, the sun became a thing of beauty. Sunset was a time to stop and look at the horizon, a time of reflection and contemplation. A time for painters, poets, and lovers. A time when ponies would look at the sun—my sun—and, somehow, feel its light warm their hearts.

Many ponies didn’t seem to realize how little I had to do with the sunset. I only needed to raise the sun in the morning, and the sun’s own momentum did the rest. But still, it felt pretty damn good when ponies came up to me in the morning and thanked me for the sunset of the night before.

“Hey, Sweetie.”

I blinked, then shook my head a little. Now wasn’t the time to get stuck in my own little world. Instead, I looked over at Twilight Velvet, my adoptive aunt, who wore a sleek purple gown. She smiled at me.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said, with only a hint of dishonesty.

Aunt Velvet smiled an enigmatic smile.

“Well,” she said, “I know you’ve had a lot on your plate lately… but please try to enjoy the party tonight. After all…” she turned and looked pointedly behind her. “It’s a big night tonight. For all of us.”

I snorted. “That’s putting it mildly,” I said, turning to follow her gaze.

The Canterlot Garden Party was actually one of my least favorite events we held at the Palace. You couldn’t beat the view from the Canterlot gardens, of course, but I was much more comfortable watching the city with a window between myself and any lingering mosquitoes. However, it was still one of the most important social events of the season. This was when the movers and shakers came out to play. More money and power was gathered here, among the hundred or so ponies standing in small knots on the lawn, than any other place in Equestria, including the Palace vaults.

You wouldn’t know it by looking around, of course. This was real wealth—the sort that didn’t need to draw attention to itself. But you could see it if you knew where to look: the sharp tailored suits on the stallions, the sleek form-fitting dresses on the mares, the exotic perfumes and colognes on the air. The only overt signs of wealth were the sparkling diamond tie studs and the strings of flawless pearls adorning the guests. The place stank of money, if you had the nose for it.

Except, of course, for our little knot of family. There were nine of us, all told: Uncle Nightie and Aunt Velvet, doing their best to fit in with their off-the-rack, last-season fashion; Shining Armor, wearing his dress uniform, with his date, a little pink unicorn—”Sunny” something—at his side; Blue and Rares, the latter of whom was staring around in wide-eyed wonder; and lastly, Luna, who had come unaccompanied, and yet was absolutely rocking her Dowager Empress schtick. And then there was me, of course—and my date, Lieutenant Soaring Skies of the Wonderbolts.

As family of the Princesses, everyone in our group had permission to wear more-or-less whatever they wanted, but Soarin’ actually looked like he could have fit in with this crowd. He cut quite a figure in his dress uniform, decorated as he was with bright ribbons and a set of sparkling silver bars. I stood head-and-shoulders taller than him—but then again, that was true for most stallions in Canterlot—and yet, no one batted an eye. He wasn’t as bulky as Shiny, but he had the wiry strength of a true athlete, and not an ounce of fat on his body.

I smiled a little. Yeah, I’d heard it all. The magazines were calling us “Sunny Skies.” They joked I had a thing for short stallions, or that I was dating him because he was a dumb jock. I’m pretty sure that multiple family fortunes were already resting on when, exactly, he’d pop the question—or when I’d pop it for him, at least.

To be fair, it wasn’t all idle speculation. After all, I did have to squeeze out a filly before I kicked the bucket. And even a humpbacked old mule would become one of the biggest and most important celebrities in Equestria overnight if I chose him as Prince Consort. And, yeah, Soarin’ would make a good mate, but there was more to it than that...

Soarin’ really was the complete package, if I was honest. He was handsome, he was famous, and he had an athlete’s body. When we were together--really together--he made me feel alive in ways I didn’t know he could. The exhilaration of our sunset races through the clouds, the schoolfilly joy of him ambushing me with a picnic, the thrill that coursed through me when he ran his hooves over my outstretched wings, making sure I was flying straight… Twelve-year-old me would be having a conniption right now, knowing that I still hadn’t married him. But…

A frown creeped across my face.

But I wasn’t twelve anymore. I didn’t need a mate--I needed a husband. Or at least a half-decent coltfriend. But Soarin’ and I hadn’t been able to take that last step just yet. He tried really hard, sure, but there was something missing. Something we hadn’t been able to figure out. Being Princess was hard work--and I wanted someone who could help me through it, at the end of the day. And Soarin’, in our three years of dating, hadn’t quite figured out how to be there for me, really be there, when I needed him. Here we were, six feet apart, and, for all the attention he was paying me, I might as well have been on the moon…

I shot him another longing glance, and saw that he was still deep in conversation with Shiny. And, as I watched the two of them talking, my chest swelled up with that deep ache again, the pain of loneliness and grief.

And, for just a moment, I let myself wish—wish that, somehow, Soarin’ could be the kind of coltfriend—the kind of husband—that I needed. And yet, even as I wished it, I hated myself for wanting it so badly…

You don’t deserve to be happy, that dark voice inside me said. Not after all you’ve done. Not with somepony like Soarin’...

“Shut up,” I muttered to myself. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Aunt Velvet look quizzically at me.

And then, I saw something in Shiny’s face. He was talking, slowly, with the sort of precise enunciation that he only used when he had something delicate he wanted to say. I grimaced, forcing my pain to retreat into its hole, and tuned back in again.

“...some weather we’ve been having lately,” Shiny was saying. “Do you know anyone in the Weather Service? Sounds like one of them may have a screw loose somewhere…”

“I dunno, Shiny,” Soarin’ replied. “I’ve been hearing rumors. Apparently, the weather’s been acting really strange, and there’s only so much that they can do to control it in the first place…”

“Strange?” Shiny repeated. “Strange how?”

Soarin’ shrugged. “Dunno. Ice falling from clear skies, clouds that move against the wind…” He leaned forward a little, and lowered his voice. “Plus there’s some even stranger rumors… weather systems that move against the wind… fogbanks that stick to anyone who tries to push them... clouds that rain stuff they shouldn’t…” He looked around furtively, then dropped his voice again. I strained to hear him. “Some even say,” he continued, “there’s a storm that’s raining things like blood, and dead animals…”

“Animals?” Shiny hissed.

“Yeah. Small stuff, like birds and squirrels.” Soarin’ paused. He must have caught a look in Shiny’s eye, because he straightened up, flashed a smile, and waved a hoof dismissively. “Just some crazy rumors, that’s all. It was probably just some geese that got caught in an unlucky downdraft or something. You can’t believe anything those old Weather Service nags say—I mean, you have to have something to gossip about while towing those clouds all across Equestria...”

Soarin’ laughed, and, a moment later, Shiny joined in. But they were two different laughs, from two different lives.

Soarin’s was the hearty laugh of a Wonderbolt—an entertainer. He lived his life in cycles: buildup, big finale, bow for the audience. In his world, problems went away at the end of the night, and, even if they didn’t, he left them behind when he flew off to the next big show. Among all his laughs, it was a laugh I had come to hate.

But Shiny chuckled the dark, wary chuckle of a Royal Guard. Life in Equestria was fairly quiet, but if the Royal Wedding had taught him anything, it was that danger could come out of nowhere, with barely a hint of warning. Sure, that set of hoof-falls following down the dark street behind you is probably just somepony walking home—but it paid to be paranoid, in case it turned out that they had a knife with your name on it...

I opened my mouth to ask Soarin’ a question—

And suddenly, a blast of horns echoed across the garden, and my heart leapt. Everyone, myself included, turned to look.

At the far end of the garden stood a pair of double doors. Beside them stood a Palace Guard, clad in shining golden armor.

“Presenting, for the first time,” he called, “Her Ladyship Twilight Sparkle!”

A wave of polite applause rippled through the crowd. I smiled wide, then put my hoof to my mouth and whistled. Aunt Velvet shot me a glare, but Shiny laughed.

“Aw, leave her alone, Ma,” he said. “It’s not like she can embarrass her any more…”

I was going to shoot back a snarky reply—but then the doors swung open, and something caught in my throat.

Behind the doors stood Twilight, but as I’d never seen her before. In some ways, she looked just the same, but in others—it was like she had somehow transformed, like a caterpillar into a butterfly. Her mane was in its up-do, like always, but this time, it was deliberate, purposeful, with a smattering of silver stars to make it shine in the light. She wore her silver wire-framed glasses, the ones that accented her facial structure instead of hiding it. Her gown was simple—just a plain yellow one, with a pink scarf—but it was the understated dress of a pony who had nothing to prove. She fit right in with the billionaires and tycoons. She was already speaking their language, without having said a word.

A grin crept over my face. I held my head high, and took a step forward.

“Come on, Soarin’,” I turned called over my shoulder. “It’s time to show the Lady Twilight around—”

But then, I caught movement in the corner of my eye. I looked around, and, to my surprise, saw Rarity, standing directly in front of me.

She stared into my eyes, her expression hard and sharp--but also, full of pain and a faint sadness. She took a deep breath, then shook her head, ever so slightly.

I blinked—then, as comprehension dawned, took a half-step backwards. I looked up at Twilight, standing between the two guards who were fending off all newcomers—and, for just a second, she looked back at me. In her eyes was the faint stirring of panic, and her chest was starting to rise and fall in anxious flutters—but, when she saw me, a flash of a snarl crossed her face, and she turned, with deliberate care, to look pleadingly at Rarity.

Rarity gave me a pitying look, then turned and walked through the crowd towards Twilight. Blue glanced at me, slightly confused, then turned and followed his wife.

I stared at the two of them, wide-eyed, as they walked up to Twilight. Rarity slid right in beside her, then gestured fondly at a couple of ponies in the front row trying to catch her attention.

“Milady, have you met these ponies yet?” she said. “This is Upper Crust and Jet Set, and their son, Radio Future…”

I gulped, suddenly fighting back hot, angry tears. Beside me, Soarin’ looked around, perplexed.

“Um… what just happened?” he asked.

“I’ve been replaced,” I said, my voice hollow.

5: "Things Fall Apart"

“It always surprised him when he thought of it later that he did not sink under the load of despair.”

“I just don’t see what the big deal is,” Soarin’ said, with a faint whine of panic in his voice. “So Rarity got to show Twilight around instead of you—so what?”

“Don’t you get it?” I snapped. “I’m her best friend. These are my people. We’d been planning this party for months. And, at the last minute, she picks someone else to introduce her to everypony. She couldn’t have slapped me harder in the face if she’d actually hit me.”

“Maybe she felt more comfortable with someone she knew a little better?” he suggested. “After all, she—”

“No one knows her better than me,” I interrupted. “We were practically sisters for our entire childhoods.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Soarin’, just... just shut up,” I moaned.

He stared at me for a split-second longer, than closed his mouth.

We were standing on one of the balconies of the Residence Tower, just outside my suite of rooms. Down below us, we could see the Garden Party, still in full swing. I had left the party early. “Slunk out,” the papers would say tomorrow morning. But I couldn’t take it anymore—watching Rarity take my place as Twilight’s escort cut so deep I could feel myself bleeding.

I needed out. I needed to be alone. But Soarin’ had followed me, for some reason. Followed me all the way up here, and was now watching me with those hurt-puppy eyes of his.

“Why are you here, anyway?” I asked. “Don’t you have other celebrities to fawn over?”

He just shook his head.

“I’m on a date with you—” he began.

“Yeah?” I said. “Coulda fooled me.”

At least he had the decency to look properly ashamed this time.

I turned away flopped my forearms down onto the balcony. I tried to ignore the party below, instead focusing on the lights of Canterlot beyond. From here, you could almost see downtown—maybe even the glow of Doughnut Joe’s sign…

I heard, more than saw, Soarin’ walk to the balcony. He, too, rested his forearms on the railing, then watched the lights in silence. After a few moments, he reached out to take my hoof, but I jerked it away.

“Listen,” he said, gently, “what’s this about? Really?”

A dozen answers to his question popped into my head, each more poisonous than the last, but they dissolved into smoke and vanished before I could even think of the words to say them. So, I gave him the only answer that remained:

“Tonight… tonight was supposed to fix everything,” I said, tracing a pattern on the railing with my hoof. “Twilight’s mad at me, for some reason, and I don’t really know why. Tonight, I was gonna fix things. I was going to talk to her, find out what’s going on, try and make it better… and I was going to show her how good of a friend I could be…”

“Could you take her out somewhere, after the party?” he asked. “Maybe some ice cream or something?”

“Doughnuts,” I corrected. “And I could. But that’s not it… It’s… I’m…”

I gestured helplessly, then dropped my chin down onto the railing. After a moment, Soarin’ reached out and laid his hoof on mine. This time, I didn’t pull away.

“Celestia,” he said gently, “I would give my wings to see you smiling again. But I can’t help unless you talk to me.”

I looked up at him. He stared back, his eyes wide and frightened. But he wasn’t frightened of me. He was frightened for me. I looked away again and sighed. I still didn’t know if I wanted to trust him with all my deepest, darkest secrets… but still, it would feel nice to be able to trust someone...

“I’m… scared,” I admitted. “Twilight has been my best friend for as long as I can remember. And she’s basically been family ever since I became Princess. She…” I hesitated, then sighed. “She’s always been there for me, and I for her, through everything. But now, I might lose her, just as I need her help the most, and I don’t know why…”

I stared miserably out at the night, feeling the tears start to well up again, until Soarin’ cleared his throat.

“Listen,” he said. “I don’t know what’s going on. Even if I did, I don’t know that I could help. But there is one thing I do know… and that’s the chain of command.”

I frowned, then looked up again. I found him watching me, not with a smirk, but an expression of earnest gravity. Seeing my look, he hesitated, but pressed on.

“See,” he said, “in the military, if someone gives you an order, it doesn’t matter so much whether it’s intelligent, or practical, or even possible—what matters more is who’s giving the order. If your drill sergeant tells you to scrub the barrack floors with your toothbrush, you do it, because that’s how things work in the military.”

I snorted. “Speaking from experience?” I asked.

“More than you know,” he replied, “but that’s not the point. The principle’s the same, all the way up the chain. If a general orders you to take down a rampaging dragon with nothing but the wings that Harmony gave you, you do it. Stupid, yes. Suicidal, yes. But he gave you an order, so you have to try—”

“Are you telling me to order her to be my friend again?” I snapped.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m trying to tell you there’s something you can do about it.”

“Like what?” I said disdainfully.

“I don’t know,” he replied. “All I know is, that you’re the Princess. You’re at the top of the chain of command—every chain of command. And that makes you a lot less helpless than you think—”

I straightened up and glared at him. “Are you calling me weak?” I snarled.

He jerked back in surprise—but then, his eyes hardened. “I wasn’t going to,” he said icily, “but if all you’re going to do about this, when you have literally everypony in Equestria at your beck and call, is whine about how everyone is being mean to you, then maybe you are.”

I glared down at him. “Get out,” I growled.

“I was just leaving,” he replied.

Soarin’ stuck his nose in the air, spread his wings, and took off. He glided out into the dark, towards the distant lights of the Wonderbolts base, and was gone. For a while, I watched those lights, my chest heaving, my eyes prickling with tears. How dare he—!

But, as my anger burned down to coals, I realized I was lonely again. So lonely it hurt.

But more importantly, I realized he was right. I was the Princess. I moved the foundering sun, after all. If I wanted to fix this, there was a way.

But—the tears started to well up again—what that way might be, I had no idea.

* * *

It was some time later when I stepped back out into the hallway. I had no idea how long.

I looked up and down the corridor, then sniffled and wiped at my nose with the back of a hoof. My eyes were puffy, and my makeup was a disaster—but hey, at least I hadn’t fallen asleep yet. I knew what was waiting for me on the other side of sleep tonight, and I already had enough problems to deal with as it was...

I shot another, nervous glance down the corridor. I was Princess, not to mention a full-blown adult, but old habits died hard. The guards would all just look the other way if they spotted me, but it still stung my pride a little when they caught me wandering the castle at night.

I took a deep breath, then turned and crept down the hall. Soarin’ was an ass—a handsome ass, but an ass nonetheless—but he was right. Twilight meant too much to me to just let our friendship die like this.

I snuck into my office. I sat down at my desk, then started pulling open drawers. I found a candle, set it on the desktop, and lit it with a spark from my horn. Then, I pulled out a sheet of parchment and a quill. I smoothed the parchment on the desktop, then lifted the pen. I hesitated, unsure of what to write. Finally, I began:

Dear Twilight, I scrawled. I know it’s been a while since we’ve talked...

Criterion: Intrusion

I was starting to feel pretty good about myself… before I tripped.

It happened so fast—one second, I was walking along in the dark, listening to the drip of water, smelling the dirt and the damp, and starting to feel confident in my chances for the first time since I’d woken up. I broke into a little trot—and suddenly, my hoof struck a rail, and my world turned upside down.

I screamed and rolled head over heels until I slammed my back into something hard. I rolled over right-side up, my head spinning, and spat a curse. I ached all over, but the knee on one of my forelegs burned white-hot. I hugged it close and swore again, trying to keep the tears from rolling down my face.

I have to admit, I almost gave up right there. Buried in the deep dark, nowhere to go, and no way to get there even if there was—and no idea how to get back to those tracks I’d been following. I’d been in some scrapes, but this was the most lost and hopeless I’d ever felt.

But then, I saw it. A dim, blue glow in the distance, just enough to discolor the blackness. I probably wouldn’t have even noticed it, if I hadn’t been in the dark so long already. But my eyes widened, and I clutched to that light like a lifeline. I stood on shaking knees, the pain in my knee almost blinding, and hobbled towards it.

As I drew closer, I saw that the glow was moving away from me, bobbing along gently as it did. I tried to walk faster to catch it, but my legs wobbled dangerously. I tried to call after it, but my throat felt like ash and tar, and all that came out was a sort of harsh bark. Yet, they must have heard me, for the glow froze in place.

I lurched my way towards it as fast as I could, until, slowly, the glow began to gather into a point. Soon, it grew bright enough to where I could see the ground under my hooves, however dimly, and I picked up the pace.

And then, suddenly, I rounded an outcropping, and I stopped cold.

“Blueblood?” I rasped.

Blueblood stood there, eyes wide and chest heaving, staring at me. His mane was dirty and tangled, and his eyes had a frightened, haunted look to them. He wore his white tuxedo, of course, but it was dirty and torn, and hung loose on his frame. His horn glowed blue to match his eyes, casting strange shadows on the walls.

“Cece?” he asked, unbelieving.

I snarled, then pounced.

I slammed into him and he collapsed under me with a yell. I pinned him to the ground, then pressed the tip of my horn to his neck.

“You’re not Bloob,” I hissed.

“I am,” he protested, gasping for breath. “Cece, I really am—”

“Prove it,” I spat. I pressed my horn down harder, and a drop of his blood welled up under the tip.

He swallowed, glanced up at me with terror in his eyes, then spoke.

“Ch-chocolate sprinkle,” he gasped.

I cocked my head, but did not lift my horn.

“Chocolate sprinkle,” he repeated. “You told me last week, that’s your guilty pleasure. At Doughnut Joe’s. Yeast doughnuts, with chocolate frosting and rainbow sprinkles.” He smiled weakly. “You have some of the best caterers in Equestria at your beck and call, and could ask for literally any dessert you wanted, but your favorite treat in the world is the chocolate sprinkle doughnut from some late-night shop in downtown Canterlot.”

I stared at him, unmoving, and he swallowed again.

“Sissy?” he asked uneasily.

At my nickname, my eyes widened. I stepped backwards, lifting my horn from his neck, and he gasped for breath. He rolled onto his stomach, then clambered to his hooves awkwardly.

“Geez,” he muttered, as he brushed himself off. “Paranoid much?” He looked up at me, then did a double-take. “Sissy,” he asked, scandalized, “what happened to you?”

I looked down at myself in the blue light of his horn. The slime in my coat had mostly dried, but it was still green, and matted and caked with dirt. I looked back up at him with a frown.

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” I said, my voice still rough.

He smiled weakly. “Been down here for three or four days,” he said. “Those… those bugs captured me. Threw me in a sealed chamber. I only just managed to get out.”

I nodded. “They put me in a cocoon or something,” I said. “I can’t get my horn to work with all this stupid slime, so I’ve been wandering in the dark.”

He nodded. “Figures. They wouldn’t want to make it too easy on us, after all…” He sighed. “So, which disguise did they use on you? I got cornered by a couple Royal Guards.”

I opened my mouth, then hesitated.

“C’mon,” he said. “I gotta know—if nothing else, for curiosity’s sake. Who’d they dress up as to nab you?”

I closed my mouth again, then swallowed. I looked him in the eye, took a deep breath, then told him who had kidnapped me.

I told him, “You.”

6: "Leviathan"

“And whereas a man can fancy Shapes he never saw; making up a Figure out of the parts of divers creatures . . . So can he also give Matter to those Shapes...”

“...and… I think I’ll have the salad,” I said, trying to keep the tremble out of my voice. “Neightalian dressing, on the side, please.”

I folded my menu, then passed it to the waiter. I wanted to glance at the other ponies around the table, but something stopped me. Instead, I looked down at the tablecloth.

The seven of us were sitting in one of the smaller towers of the Palace. The room we were in was small and circular, with plush carpeting and a number of cozy cushions scattered about. It held a round table normally used for private conferences, but repurposed for today into a dining table. The Kitchens had spread it with an immaculate white cloth and seven place settings. The glittering silverware reflected the bluish-green light from the three big stained-glass windows, each depicting a panorama of a beautiful castle by the sea.

To my left, I heard Applejack stumble through her order—a simple sandwich of carrot greens, with a side of apple chips. I swallowed. When I had written Twilight last week, I had wanted only her to come today, but she had asked if she could invite the rest of her Ponyville friends along, too. Nothing against them, of course—but I had kinda hoped we could do this by ourselves.

But hey, I’d woken up screaming again at three-thirty this morning. Nowhere to go but up, I suppose...

Rarity hemmed and hawed before settling on the soup. I felt a little flash of irritation, but quickly stifled it; though she did live here, she had only gotten back from her honeymoon, what, two weeks ago? She hadn’t had time to learn the menu like I had. Perhaps her dramatics weren’t just a show this time.

As I stared down at my plate, I felt a drop of sweat roll down the back of my neck. I had never realized how warm this room could get during the day…

Pinkie Pie spent several minutes debating a series of complicated substitutions with the waiter, before finally settling on a plate of avocado toast.

I scratched idly at the tablecloth with my hoof. This was stupid. Why had I done this? I should have just sent her a card or something, not had her all the way out here for lunch…

“Hayburger,” Twilight said, in cold, clipped tones. “Medium-well. Side of hay fries, thank you.”

I risked an upward glance. Twilight sat almost directly across the table, staring directly at me. She wore her mane in its usual bun, her thick, black-framed glasses balanced perfectly on her nose. She hadn’t even opened her menu; ever since she had sat down, she had simply bored a hole in me with her gaze.

I shrank a little, then looked away. I had screwed up, I knew I had. But still, I don’t think I deserved this much anger, not from her…

Yes you do, said that evil little voice. Which of your failures does she hate you for? There’s so many to choose from, after all…

The door closed, and I jerked my head up. Rainbow and Fluttershy had both ordered without me noticing. Now, the waiter had left us alone.

For a long, long time, no one spoke. A few of Twilight’s friends looked around uneasily; they would have to have been about twelve kinds of blind not to feel the tension. Rarity watched Twilight and I for a moment, then scooted her cushion a few inches closer to me, for which I shot her a grateful glance. Twilight herself just stared at me, her eyes full of hurt and anger—and, as she watched me squirm, a faint glimmer of amusement.

Finally, Twilight lit her horn, picked up her glass of water, and took a long drink. She set the glass down, crossed her forehooves on the table in front of her, and cleared her throat.

“Well,” she said in the same, curt tone. “I think we all have at least a vague idea why we’re here. I would like to start by—”

“A-actually,” Applejack interjected, “I think I ain’t the only one who’s in the dark. Could ya tell us why, exactly, it’s colder’n a spring frost in here?”

I was faintly pleased to notice the look of alarm that crossed Twilight’s face. Apparently, she had assumed that everyone was already on her side—whatever side that was. But she quickly found her composure again, and hid her surprise behind a cool, impassive mask.

“As I’m sure we all remember,” Twilight began, “last month was Rarity’s wedding.”

“I’m sure we do, Darling,” Rarity interjected. “After all, a full-scale invasion of those horrid changelings is rather difficult to forget. But you can’t blame poor Cece for that,” she continued, a dramatic little whine in her voice. “I mean, even the Palace Guards were caught by surprise, including your brother, and it’s their job to—”

Twilight turned and shot her a look; whatever Rarity saw in her eyes made her go quiet.

“I’m not blaming her for the changelings,” Twilight said. “However, I do take issue with—”

Suddenly, Pinkie stood, her eyes wide. I looked at her in surprise; her tail was twitching in short, jerky bursts. Twilight shot an involuntary glance at the ceiling, but, before she could move, both of Pinkie’s ears swiveled towards the door.

“Pinkie?” I asked. “What’s going—?”

Even before I could finish the sentence, I heard it—a set of hooves sprinting down the hallway towards us.

“Who in Eques—?” I began

The door slammed open so hard it made our plates jump. Standing in the doorway, chest heaving, was Princess Luna.

“Block the door,” she gasped.

Applejack stood. “Yer Highness,” she said carefully, “everything all ri—?”

Luna stepped inside, then turned and slammed the doors closed behind her. She shot a beam of light at the door, and massive, glowing chains wrapped themselves around them.

But before the sound had even faded, Luna was already pacing around the edge of the room. Fluttershy squeaked as Luna pushed her out of the way, heedless of her cries.

“Windows are sealed,” she muttered to herself.“Masonry’s tight—”

“Princess Luna,” I said firmly, “what in the name of Tartarus are you doing—?”

Luna turned and looked at me over her shoulder. She opened her mouth—

And then, the air itself spoke.

“Oh, come now, Your Highness,” said the voice, “no need to scare the little fillies.”

Luna froze. There was no sound, aside from her ragged breathing.

“After all,” the voice added, with a hint of amusement in its tone, “you know how well that worked last time.”

I swallowed, fighting down the inexplicable panic that was already rising in my chest. The voice came from everywhere and nowhere at once—deep, masculine, ice-calm and velvet-smooth, almost grandfatherly…

And yet, it still made me want to crawl out of my skin.

I licked my lips and, somehow, found my voice.

“T-Twilight?” I asked. “What’s going on?”

It took several seconds of stunned silence before she replied.

“I… don’t know,” Twilight said at last. “I think…”

“Yes, I do tend to have that effect on the ladyfolk,” the voice interrupted. It chuckled darkly, then spoke again. “Though I suppose we need to have a proper introduction, if this relationship is going to go anywhere. Your Highness, if you please…?”

To my right, I heard a strange noise—a high, wordless whine. I turned and stared at Luna; her eyes were wide and unseeing and her glasses crooked. Her mouth hung open an inch or two, the sound clawing its way up out of her throat.

“Well,” said the voice. “I suppose if dear Woona finds herself indisposed… perhaps I shall have to introduce myself.”

For a long moment, nothing seemed to happen. I glanced around the room quizzically; Luna still stood frozen by the wall, Fluttershy cowered under the table, Applejack swallowed nervously, Rarity looked around cautiously, Pinkie watched me with wide eyes, Rainbow snarled, and Twilight—

I cocked my head. Twilight stared over my shoulder, eyes wide. I was about to ask what it was she was seeing, when a movement caught my eye. I looked down at the table in front of me, where the light from the windows played across the tablecloth, and my eyes widened. Slowly, I turned to look at the window behind me—and at the shadow that towered over the seven of us.

At first, I thought it was a shadow of something outside the window, its silhouette projecting itself on the stained-glass landscape. Then I thought it was something on the glass, like some crazed window-washer playing a prank. But no—as I watched it, its shadowy face split into a grin, a grin that twisted and whorled in a way that no thing made of flesh ever could.

The shadow looked equine—almost. It had the right head, at least, but the rest of it was long and thin, almost stretched out, like a drawing made on silly putty. Two mismatched horns protruded from behind its ears, and limbs and wings stuck out at awkward angles. As I stared at the shadow, its head turned—and, though it didn’t have eyes, I could have sworn it looked at me.

And, for just a second, I thought I saw its smile harden...

But before I could react, the shadow bowed.

“I am Discord,” it said in that same icy-velvet voice, “the spirit of Chaos and Disharmony.”

Luna gave a faint moan. I glanced over at her, then looked back to the window—and blinked in surprise. Had those windows always had a storm brewing over the distant hills?

And, as I stared, uncomprehending, the wheels in my head spun frantically, seeking anything they could catch hold on—and a switch clicked on somewhere in the back of my brain. I stood, and, as everyone turned to look, I gave a little bow.

“The pleasure is all mine, Discord,” I said, “My name is—”

“Yes yes, I know,” he said, waving one of his limbs dismissively. “Princess Celestia of House Equestria, Seventeenth of Her Name, Amicitia Magicae Est, Vive la Princesse, all that.”

I glanced nervously at Twilight, who was staring, unblinking, at the shadow. “Most perceptive,” I murmured as I turned back to him, trying to keep the unease out of my voice. “Praytell, how do you—?”

“I know a great many things,” Discord interrupted. “For example…”

In a split second, his shadowy form melted, then zipped over to the window on the far right, where it reformed into the same, serpentine shape. It leaned almost casually on the side of the frame, just above Pinkie Pie, who twisted around in her seat to watch him.

“...I know that Pinkie’s birthday, over here, is in two weeks,” he continued, without breaking stride.

Pinkie let out a cautious little giggle.

The shadow pointed lazily. “...and that Fluttershy’s expecting a new batch of chicks any day now…”

Fluttershy squeaked and scuttled deeper under the table.

And then he grinned again, his same viper smile. “And I even know who dies at the end of Rainbow’s current Power Ponies collection.”

Rainbow’s eyes flashed. “Don’t you dare—”

“Already have,” Discord said smugly. “And more importantly…” He paused dramatically to inspect the claws on one of his forelimbs “I also know,” he said, his voice deadly quiet, “where you all keep your magical stones. Or, more properly…” He splayed his claws, then brushed them on his coat. “...where you kept them.”

It took a moment for the significance of what he’d said to sink in.

Twilight’s eyes bulged. “Kept?” she repeated, her voice rising an octave. “What have you done with the Elements of Harmony?”

The shadow smirked. “That’s for me to know, and for you to find out,” he said.

My blood ran cold. I risked a glance at the ponies behind me: they stared back with looks of horror, rage, disgust, and fear.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Discord added, nonchalantly, as he strolled towards the center window. “I’ll give them back. If you win my little game, that is…”

Something boiled up inside me. An ugly memory, of an older brother laughing, dangling his sister’s stuffed frog over her head…

I snarled, then leapt to my hooves. “No,” I barked.

The shadow stopped, then looked down at me curiously.

“I won’t let you bully my friends,” I spat. “Give them back the Elements now.”

Discord grinned, his smile full of pointed fangs.

“Well,” he purred, “the kitten has claws.”

“Quit patronizing me,” I spat back. “I’m not just another one of your playthings.”

Discord’s smile froze. For a second, nothing seemed to happen—but soon, I realized his shadow was growing and swelling. As the room sank into darkness, I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Princess,” he said, his voice quiet. “There are more magic stones than just the Elements. And, as I recall, you happen to have a stone of your own. A Stone, I might add, that you left unguarded on the mantel over the fireplace in your bedroom this morning.” He held up a claw clenched into a fist, then opened it, palm upwards; as he did, a little blob of shadow floated upwards from his palm and formed into an eight-pointed silhouette, a silhouette that had greeted me every morning since the day my mother died.

I gasped, the sound tearing from my throat like a wounded animal.

“Indeed,” Discord said, with only a hint of a grin. “So I would encourage you to think very hard, Your Highness, before you insist you are not one of my playthings. For you find yourself in the enviable position of being the crown jewel of the lot.” He smiled another cold, humorless smile. “Or, perhaps more properly, the Peytral jewel.”

As I stared at him, my legs started trembling, and my vision began to swim. I opened my mouth to speak, but I had no idea what I was going to say. What do you say to someone when they tell you they’ve stolen the only reason you exist? The one thing that, literally, makes the world go round?

Thankfully, Rarity saved me.

From behind me, I heard her growl. “What’s your game, then?” she snapped.

Discord turned away—and, the second he did, I could breathe again. I swallowed, hard, and locked my knees into place. I took several deep, shuddering breaths, trying to calm my nerves. Somewhere far away, Discord spoke:

“My game?” he repeated. “It’s very simple, actually. To find what I’ve taken from you, just find the place where all things are lost. You won’t even have to travel far to do it—I’m capricious, not cruel—”

“You know what she means,” Twilight said, her voice just as cold. “What are you getting at? Why steal the Stones?”

Discord clicked his tongue disdainfully.

“It’s not like you to ignore an authority figure when they’re talking, dear Twiley,” he said. “Furthermore, I believe I’ve already explained myself adequately. Or did you not catch the ‘Spirit of Chaos and Disharmony’ thing?”

I swallowed, hard. I managed to force down the vomit in my throat, just as Applejack spoke.

“Spirit of Chaos and Disharmony, eh?” she asked. “Why in Equestria should we believe you, then?”

For a moment, there was silence. I looked up, and saw Discord in the window, staring at Applejack. The hairs on the back of his neck were prickled up in rage.

“Because, dear Applejack,” he said finally, “I said you could. I do not make promises lightly. If I promised that I could make pigs fly, then it would behoove you to start shopping for a better raincoat. So when I promise that, if you win my little game, you will get your baubles back, then you better hope to Tartarus that you have the skills to win.” He leaned forward again, malice radiating off him like waves of heat. “You have my word that I will keep our deal,” he said. “And I am a being of my word.”

Pinkie Pie: Lesson One

Ooh! Ooh! My turn to tell the story now!!

Let’s see… well, right now, we just finished talking to that Discord guy, so everyone’s going just a little crazy. Cece is trying to calm everyone down, and Princess Luna is freaking out of her foundering skull, and Twilight isn’t doing much better… Oh, and Blueblood just showed up, and he’s trying to help, but this looks like a problem that might be too big for even true love to solve…!

But yeah. We’re still all trying to figure out which end is up still, so there’s not a whole lot going on now that you need to know. Besides, Cece will probably tell you about the rest herself in just a minute.

So, I guess I have to tell a different story… but there’s just so many good ones! What about that time that Princess Luna came to Ponyville for Nightmare Night dressed up as Nightmare Moon herself, but turned out to be a big ol’ scaredy-pony who just wanted to go home? Or maybe that time Celestia got Rainbow hooked on reading Power Ponies, even though Twilight was, like, right there with her Daring Do’s the whole time? Or what about when we all tried to put on that Hearth’s Warming pageant, but it turned out Celestia couldn’t act to save her life and almost ruined everything? Or maybe, maybe, that time that Applejack ran off, and everyone thought that she was embarrassed to come home because she lost her rodeo, but it turned out she had a secret coltfriend that she didn’t want anyone to know about? Ooh! What about the time that Twilight found a spell that threatened to collapse the space-time continuum, so she and Cece had to go back in time and fight themselves from a mirror universe to keep all of Equestria from exploding in a sea of eldritch fire, and they messed it all up, but at the very last second, they—

Nah, you don’t want to hear that story.

Oh! I know! Since everyone’s all freaking out right now, why don’t I tell you about another time everyone freaked out? Like that one time that Twilight freaked out super-bad over, like, nothing at all? That’s a fun one.

So, it was just Twilight and me at first. But I promise it wasn’t my fault! See, while Twilight was shelving books for Mr. Goldleaf—you remember him? The old, mostly-deaf librarian that hired Twilight as Junior Librarian, in exchange for room and board upstairs?—anyway, she found a book on history she told me I should read. At first, I wasn’t super-excited—I don’t even like the past—but then she told me it was a history of parties!! So, of course I had to read that. And it was actually really cool! I thought the old-style Coronation ceremony was especially super-duperiffic, and told Twilight all about it—how, when you became Princess, you had to walk down the aisle and have everyone look at you, then they put the Peytral on you and watch you grow wings and/or horns (hey, I don’t judge), and then how you had to make a speech, and how everyone was watching you and judging you the whole time…

Well, right in the middle of my story, Twilight started breathing kinda funny. And then I asked her what was up, and she got all upset at me for some reason?

Actually—now that I think about it, that might have been at least a little bit my fault.

But anyways. I wasn’t there for the whole thing, so, to make a long story short, Twilight, like, freaked out. But she didn’t let anyone know—she just bottled it up. And, if I’ve learned anything from baking, it’s that you need to be careful when you’re letting something rise. If you cover it too tight, it could explode, in a delicious-but-destructive mess...

Actually, that’s another story—you see, it was pretty funny, because—

Nah. Maybe another time. You want to hear the story about Twilight, after all.

So anyways. That afternoon, Twilight freaked out at all of us, screaming about all the pressure, then ran and locked herself in her bedroom. And she didn’t want to come out, even when I promised we’d take her down to the bakery and let her pick out any cupcake she wanted! We probably would have left her in there for a while longer, but then she started screaming again (but to herself this time—thank goodness), and then she started throwing things, and—well, you get the idea.

So it was time to call in the cavalry. And I had just the ticket. See, I knew that Twilight and Cece wrote each other a lot, and that they burned their letters to send them. I wasn’t a unicorn or anything, but I could tell that they weren’t using their horns to do it. Maybe it was something in the ink? But anyways, I was pretty sure that having a letter I could instantly send to the Princess at any time, any place would be pretty useful, so… I kinda stole one of Twilight’s letters.

But only after she was done with it! I promise!!

But yeah, I totally stole it. And then stashed it someplace safe, just in case there was ever a Correspondence Emergency. And, oh boy, was this a Correspondence Emergency.

So I found the letter where I’d stashed it under the floorboards, and a quill, and a book of matches that somepony had just left lying around in the bottom of their saddlebags, and wrote a quick note. And bam! Celestia showed up, just like that.

Wait, no—not just like that. She had to fly in from Canterlot, of course. But I’m sure she left right after getting my note!

But anyways, it look her, like, forty-five minutes to get here. I dunno, my Partytime watch wasn’t super-useful in this situation. And then she landed on the grass, her chest heaving, her mane a mess, and sweaty all over.

“Where is she?” she asked me.

“Still in her room,” I replied.

Without another word, Celestia turned and walked inside the library. Applejack looked like she was mad at me, and she was just about to chew me out, but I spoke first.

“What else were we gonna do?” I asked her, with a shrug.

Applejack thought for a minute, then shut her mouth.

So we trotted inside after Cece. She was already most of the way up the stairs and everything. As we watched, she knocked at the door.

“Twi?” she said quietly, “it’s me.”

Something behind the door shattered, and Twilight screamed out another couple swear words. Cece flinched, but didn’t say anything. Instead, she just turned the handle, pushed open the door, and stepped inside.

Rarity said afterward that it was rude to eavesdrop. Fluttershy said it was especially rude to sneak right up to the door and put my ear against it. But I didn’t care—I wasn’t gonna miss out on what they said!

I won’t actually tell you what they said,though. I’m not that terrible a pony. Besides, a lot of it was private stuff—not for casual acquaintances, like yourself. No offense.

So anyways. Cece talked to Twilight for, like, fifteen or twenty minutes, me listening really close, everyone else pretending they weren’t. And then the door opened, and Cece poked her head out.

“You can come in,” she said.

I didn’t even hesitate—just slipped right in and sat down.

“Wow, Twilight,” I gasped, “you made a mess! Ow!!” I yelped. “Cece, why’d you kick me?”

But it was true: she had made a mess. Twilight loved to keep things organized—and with an apartment as small as hers, she kinda needed to. But now, she’d thrown things around, broken plates and mugs, torn up papers—the whole nine yards! Not to mention, she was a bit of a mess herself: her cheeks were still wet, and her makeup was a mess, and she looked really tired. Geez, I knew she was upset—but I didn’t know she was that upset…

So, not gonna lie? What happened next was pretty boring. Cece told us about how Twilight was under a lot of stress, and how we needed to recognize when she was having a hard time or something… but to be honest, I wasn’t listening. I mean, things seemed to have worked out alright in the end. Besides, as she was talking, I looked over at Rainbow, who rolled her eyes. I’m pretty sure she was thinking the same thing as I was—

Who are you to lecture us on how to treat Twilight, when you’ve barely seen her in months?

But I’m a good friend. Or, at least, I try to be. So I tried not to think that way. At least, not out loud.

So yeah. Cece told us all to be nicer to Twilight, and let her know if there was any more trouble, and we promised to pay a little more attention to when she was having a hard time, and then Cece took us all out for cupcakes on the Royal expense account—which means I got a pretty hefty tip, on top of everything else.

So that’s the story!

Really!

I mean, of course, there’s a little more to tell, but that’s enough to get the idea, at least.

For now, though I need to get to work. See, Twilight is getting all stressed again—though she has good reason for it, this time!—so now I have to go and hide all the breakables. Don’t want to have to clean up a mess of broken china while we’re already in the middle of saving the world!

So, bye now! See you soon, hopefully, and enjoy the rest of the story! Oh, and I think Rarity’s up next. Say “hi” to her for me when you see her! :pinkiegasp::pinkiesmile::pinkiehappy::pinkiehappy:

7: "Pride and Prejudice"

“Angry people are not always wise.”

“Absolutely not,” said Luna.

“Luna, for once in your life,” I hissed, “shut your foundering mouth.”

I strode down the hall, Luna struggling to keep up. It would have been easier for her, had it not been for the hysterical mob nipping frantically at our heels.

“Your Highness!” cried one. “You have to see this—!”

“All the rabbits—all at once!”

“Magic vines out of the Everfree! If we don’t act now—!”

“Everywhere! Storms and lightning and—!”

“Your Highness!”

“Your Highness!!”

Up ahead, I saw it: the door to my office. It took everything in my power to walk, not run, the rest of the way. When I reached it, I opened the door a crack, then turned back to the crowd and spread my wings.

“Ladies and gentlecolts, please,” I called over the roar. “I know you have concerns, but my friends and I must confer for a few moments.” I nodded my head over my shoulder, and one by one, Twilight and her friends began to push through the crowd, then squeezed past me into the office. “I will give each and every one of you the help that you need—but there must be order,please,” I continued. I scanned the crowd. “Raven?” I called.

Raven, my secretary, popped her head up over the pony in front of her. “Here, your highness!” she said, waving.

I nodded at her. “If each of you could kindly check in with her, she’ll write down your names and your complaints, and I’ll get to you as soon as I can. Now, if you please…?”

I gestured, and Raven got the hint.

“Right this way, everypony!” she cried waving a pad of paper over her head. “Right this way, form a line, please—no pushing—!”

As the crowd dispersed, Luna finally stepped forward. She gave me a curt nod, then pushed past me into the office with a little more force than necessary. Blueblood, just behind her, gave me a frightened look, then followed her.

I sighed heavily, and was just about to close the door, when a blue-and-orange blur landed in front of me. I looked down in surprise, and found Spitfire, in her Wonderbolts athletics suit, standing at my hooves, chest heaving.

“Wonderbolts reporting in, Ma’am,” she gasped, throwing me a sloppy salute. A few feet behind her, Soarin’ landed lightly on the carpet, still struggling to get the hood of his uniform on. “We’re here to help however we can.”

“And to keep you safe,” Soarin’ added. Both Spitfire and I shot him incredulous looks.

I turned back to Spitfire. “Check in with Captain Armor,” I said. “He’ll have a better idea of what’s going on.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Spitfire said, saluting again. In a split-second, she took off, flying down the hallway over the heads of the panicking bureaucrats.

I turned and walked into my office. As I turned around to close the door behind me, however, I saw Soarin’ still standing there, hesitating. He looked up at me with an uncertain, pleading look in his eyes.

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” I snapped.

It gave me no small satisfaction to see Soarin’s look of hurt and surprise as I slammed the door in his face.

“Alright,” I called, turning to the ponies assembled in my office, “anyone care to explain to me why, exactly, all of Equestria seems to have caught fire at the same time?”

Luna looked up, her glasses crooked. “It’s him,” she hissed. “Discord. He must be responsible for all this. He must be trying to draw you out, to throw you off balance. But you cannot—”

“I can’t?” I spat back. “What I can’t do is let this continue! If he’s doing this, we have to stop him!”

“Celestia,” she pleaded, “You must not go after him—”

“Augh!” I scoffed, turning away. “Your Highness, this is not a time for argument! That—that Discord has the Sun Stone! And if we don’t get it back before tomorrow morning, then all of Equestria’s going to freeze!”

“We can use the Moon Stone,” she interjected. “After all, your foremothers had only the Sun Stone, and they—”

“No no no,” I shot back. “We could only move the moon some of the time, when it happened to cross paths with the sun. We can’t just sit back and hope!”

I glanced briefly around the room. All the others were watching the two of us trade barbs back and forth, like they were at a tennis match. Blueblood, seeing my gaze, cleared his throat.

“Ah, Cece,” he began, “couldn’t we—”

“Not now,” I snapped, shooting him a cold glare. I turned back to Luna, and saw her looking at me over her glasses, her eyes wide and trembling. “I trust your judgment, Your Highness,” I began again, fighting to keep my voice calm. “I really do. But you can’t tell me to stay at home like I’m a little filly anymore.”

Luna’s eyes flashed. “Do not trust Discord, Celestia,” she said, her words hard and sharp. “You must not play his games—”

“Your Highness,” I said testily, “this is too important for you to try and pull rank on me.” I turned and stared at her. “What are you so scared of, anyways?”

“Leave her alone,” Twilight said, her voice hard.

I nodded. “You tell her, Twilight—-”

“I was talking to you,” she snapped.

I whipped my head around and stared. Twilight glared back at me, her eyes hard and sharp. Her friends, gathered around her, looked on in shock and horror. Twilight took a step forward, heedless of their gazes.

“If Granny says to leave him alone,” she said, “then we leave him alone. It’s not right to—”

“Have you gone nuts?” cried Rainbow Dash. Twilight’s eyes bulged, and she turned to look over her shoulder at her. “Discord has the Elements—not to mention the Sun Stone. What are we supposed to do, just sit on our flanks?”

“I know you care for your Grandmother, Dear,” Rarity said, “but we can’t let him get away with… with whatever he’s planning.”

“And someone has to help those animals,” Fluttershy said. “I-I think it’s him who’s doing all those things to them… and it’s only going to get worse if we don’t stop him…”

Twilight looked at each of her friends in turn, her glasses slipping down her nose as she did. For just a moment, she sagged her shoulders—but then, she stood tall again, a faint shine of hope and triumph in her eyes.

“We don’t even know what he meant,” she said, with a little sniff. She pushed her glasses back up her nose. “Whatever he said—where everything’s already lost, or whatever—if he wantedus to follow him, then he wouldn’t have been so cryptic about it…”

I was going to shoot back some snarky reply—but then, something clicked into place.

“The hedge maze,” I said.

Twilight turned to look at me, eyebrow raised.

“The Palace hedge maze,” I repeated. “He said we wouldn’t have to go far to find it, which has to mean it’s nearby. And it’s a maze—a place where everything is already lost.” I looked around. “It’s the only thing that makes sense!”

“That’s easy,” Rainbow scoffed. “You, me, and Flutters can fly! We’ll find ‘em in ten seconds flat!”

“Not to mention,” I added, “I know the maze like the back of my hoof. I can guide you all through it, even those who can’t fly.”

Rarity smirked. “Well. Seems like this Discord fellow doesn’t know the mares he’s messing with!” She tossed her mane, then looked over at Blueblood. “Keep the kettle on, we’ll be back before tea,” she said with a smile.

I walked to the door and threw it open. Outside, the Palace Guards, who had finally shown up, stepped aside from their positions blocking the door. One by one, Twilight’s friends filed out. I hesitated, then turned back. Twilight still stood, unmoving, beside Luna. She looked unsure of herself, and even vaguely frightened—but as soon as my gaze met hers, she scowled, drooped her head, and started plodding forward.

I was about to follow her out into the crowd when I felt a hoof on my shoulder. I turned to see Luna standing beside me, a mist of tears in her eyes.

“Celestia,” she pleaded, “please, do not do this.”

I hesitated, then bowed my head.

“What do you want me to do?” I asked.

“Stay here,” she said immediately. “We shall figure out a plan of action, call in the Guard, and—”

I shook my head. “I can’t,” I said. “This—this Discord—he has the Sun Stone. And…” I swallowed. “I have to get it back, Auntie. I have to. As soon as I can. Otherwise, what sort of Princess am I?”

Luna stared at me, her eyes trembling behind those spectacles of hers, but she stayed silent. After a moment, I gave her a little bow, then stepped out into the chaos.

Criterion: Avoidance

“...so, I tried to fight them off, but then they—”

My ears perked up. “Shshshsh,” I hissed, waving a hoof at Blueblood.

The idiot actually had the audacity to look offended.

“If you’re not interested enough in me to know what happened,” he said, pouting, “then all you have to do is—”

“Seriously, Blue—shut up,” I snapped at him.

Blueblood shot me a smoldering glare, then finally shut his foundering mouth.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. I looked around in the blackness, listening hard. Finally, I pointed with a hoof.

“Over there,” I said. “I think I hear water.”

Blueblood raised an eyebrow, then turned and trotted towards where I was pointing.

“Nonono, more to the right,” I pleaded.

He groaned, but he did, at least, turn to the right.

I plodded after him, trying to avoid tripping on any loose stones. I had forgotten how much of a pain Blueblood could be. And how much of a whiner. And a coward, for that matter. I mean, when had he ever been scared of the dark? Or frightened of jumping over a little gap? Or when had he ever broken down crying, and had to have his little sister literally haul him back onto his hooves? If he wasn’t my only source of light down here, I would have left him behind long ago…

We entered a tight, suffocating tunnel that pressed in on all sides, but the sound of water was louder here. We followed it for a while, and suddenly, the walls opened wide. I cried aloud, then dashed forward: a waterfall, raining down from high above, sparkled in the light from Blueblood’s horn. And there, it fell into a deep, cold pool that drained into a narrow channel cut through the rock itself.

I took a mouthful of water from the pond, then swished the ice-cold water around in my mouth, and spat.

“Blech,” I said, sticking my tongue out. “Tastes like dirt.”

“What do you expect from water that’s been underground for ten thousand years?” Blue muttered.

I shot him a dirty look, but bent down and took another mouthful. I swished it around a bit, then gargled.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

I spat out the water again. “Trying to get what’s left of that… that goop out of my mouth,” I replied.

Blue made a face, but I ignored him.

“If you’re thirsty, get a drink now,” I said. “I’m gonna try and clean off a bit.”

Blue rolled his eyes, but obediently bent down and took a drink. I watched him for a moment, then followed his example. The water was nasty, and bitterly cold, but I still sucked it down greedily; I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was.

I drank my fill, then straightened up and stared down at the water. Gingerly, I walked out a few feet, until the water came up to my knees. I swallowed nervously, but did not move.

“What’s the holdup?” Blueblood asked. “You’re not afraid of a little water now, are you?”

“Kinda,” I admitted.

Then, I took a deep breath, and plunged my head into the pond.

The freezing water slammed into me like a sledgehammer. I screamed, but nothing came out but bubbles. I clenched my chattering teeth, then raised my hoof and started to scrub at my horn.

Eventually, I surfaced, then staggered to the shore. I plopped down, shivering, on the rocks. I whimpered, then clutched at my head with one hoof, and rubbed at my horn with the other.

Blueblood raised an eyebrow.

“Brain freeze,” I grunted. “Horn hurts.”

“Does it work, at least?” he asked.

I wrapped my hooves around myself, trying to stop my shivering, then closed my eyes and concentrated. At first, nothing happened—but then, I felt it. A gentle tingle in the base of my horn that spread upwards, growing stronger and stronger. I opened my eyes and grinned. The light flickered once or twice, but it held—my horn was glowing again! I turned and looked at Blueblood, who stared back at me with a wry grin.

As I looked at him, a shiver ran down my spine. The blue light from his horn, and the gold light from mine, combined to cast a sickly, greenish light over our surroundings. That weird, alien light made even Blue’s eyes glow green...

But, before I could say anything, Blueblood doused his horn. Now the only light coloring him was my own golden aura.

“Good timing,” he said, walking up beside me. “I was starting to get a headache.”

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. Then, I sighed and stretched out a wing, then bent down and swished it through the water beside me. I held it up again, then began to gently work the feathers with my hooves to try and get all the mucus out of them. Already, the ooze I had washed off my horn was starting to form a film across the pond. No idea what that was going to do to the local environment—but, then again, there wasn’t much down here except the occasional blind cave fish…

“So, what’s been going on the past few days?” Blueblood asked suddenly.

I jumped a little, then turned to look at him. “Huh?”

“What’s been going on?” he repeated. “Been out of the loop a bit…”

I glanced up at him, but worked another feather with my hoof before I answered. “Well… you know,” I said. “It’s a wedding. A Royal one. So there’s bound to be chaos.”

He smirked, a sad sort of longing in his expression.

“I wouldn’t know,” he said. “This is my first time getting married, after all.”

I rolled my eyes, then moved onto the next feather. “But… it’s been weird, too,” I continued. “Things keep on going wrong. Like, yesterday, half the Guard showed up to do marching drills in the gardens, right as the Palace staff were setting up the chairs and tables for the reception. And the flowers arrived, but they were all Dragonsneeze Flowers, which a bunch of the guests turned out to be allergic to. Not to mention, the Griffonstone delegation showed up this morning before their rooms were even ready, and the bridesmaids dresses came out all the wrong sizes…”

Blueblood nodded. “Sounds like someone is trying to sabotage the whole thing,” he said. “Though… I think we already knew that.”

I nodded. “That’s an understatement,” I said. “That’s how I ended up here, actually,” I added. “I thought that maybe you were sabotaging things on purpose. So I tried to confront you privately and find out what in the name of Tartarus you were up to. But turns out that it wasn’t you, and I ended up down here, so…”

“...yeah,” Blueblood finished for me. “Sorry about that, for whatever it’s worth.”

“Thanks,” I said.

I ran my wing through the water again, rinsing off the slime I’d managed to work loose, then flapped it. It was still wet and gross, of course, and not all the feathers were lined up properly. Not great for flying, but there was no way I was going to try and actually preen them until after I’d had a proper shower. But still, it felt like it would hold, as long as I didn’t try and pull any stunts.

I scootched around so my other wing was facing the water, got it wet, then started working on it. I hadn’t even managed to finish the first feather, though, when my hooves started shaking.

“There’s something else,” I said, putting my hooves down.

“Hm?” he asked, looking up.

“Twilight, she…” I swallowed. “She’s mad at me.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Over breakfast, she was… cold,” I said. “She was supposed to help me with some last-minute preparations, using those lists of hers and everything, but she barely spoke to me.” I closed my eyes. “She was fine yesterday afternoon… I don’t know what I did wrong…”

I wasn’t crying, I don’t think. But I wasn’t sure I would be able to tell the tears from the pondwater already on my cheeks, anyways…

Blueblood nodded slowly. “Do you think that maybe those… those bugs were messing with her, too?”

“I don’t know,” I muttered miserably. “I don’t think so…”

Neither of us spoke for a while. Finally, I went back to cleaning my wing. After another minute, Blueblood shifted uncomfortably. “How’s Rarity?” he asked.

I looked up at him. He stared back, fear and hope in his eyes. As I watched, he leaned forward slightly, his lips parted, waiting for me to speak.

“She’s fine,” I said.

He sighed, leaned back, and smiled.

“Stressed, of course,” I continued, “but she’s happy and healthy.”

He nodded. “Good,” he said.

I watched him for a moment. I knew he loved her, of course—why else would he be marrying a common seamstress?—but in that moment, I felt it. And, despite myself, the tension in my gut began to unclench the slightest bit.

I turned and gave him a little smile—but then, I saw something.

Without another word, I doused my horn.

“Cece!” Blue yelped. “Turn the light back on!”

“Oh, pipe down,” I hissed.

Thick blackness enveloped us, and, for just a moment, I felt the same, suffocating fear—

But as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I realized that I could still see Blueblood—or his outline, at least. He was a different shade of black than the darkness around him, different than the rocks and the water…

I grinned, then looked up.

And there, far above, at the top of the waterfall, was light. Not much, of course—just a faint glimmer on the ceiling—but still, light.

“That’s our way out,” I breathed.

“How?” Blueblood asked, a whine in his voice. “Only one of us has wings, and there’s no way I’m letting you leave me down here…”

I opened my mouth, then shut it. I hadn’t realized flying was even a possibility until he said it. And, to be sure, it was a tempting one…

I set my jaw. “I’ll fly both of us out,” I said.

Blueblood scoffed. “As if,” he shot back. “You’re gonna drop me.”

“Do you have a better idea?” I spat back.

“Yeah,” he replied. “The old one. Walk.”

“Aw, quit being a baby and let me grab you.”

Blueblood grumbled under his breath, but stood and turned around, offering himself to be carried. I sighed and shook my head.

I spread my wings and flapped them once—my beautiful wings—spraying both of us with water and muck. I would have made quite a sight, if there were anyone around to watch.

“You ever flown before?” I asked Blueblood.

“Not on purpose,” he replied.

“Well hold on tight,” I said, wrapping my arms around him. “Because this is going to get a little hairy.”

8: "The Garden of Forking Paths"

“Not for nothing am I the great-grandson of Ts'ui Pen. He was Governor of Yunnan and gave up temporal power . . . to create a maze in which all men would lose themselves.”

“Ah…” Rarity began hesitantly. “Cece, darling, are you sure this is the right hedge maze?”

I swallowed. “No,” I said, the word almost catching in my throat.

I had led us to the right spot. I knew I had. But the maze that I remembered from my entire childhood—a sight so familiar, it faded into the background—wasn’t there. Instead, we stood in front of a tall, pointed arch, flanked on either side by a thick tangle of leaves and branches.

“So?” Rainbow said, “Let’s get goin’!” She flapped her wings and lifted off. “The sooner we get going, the sooner we can—”

And then something happened. I’m not even sure how to describe it. It was something like…

You know how you can see your nose, right in the center of your vision, but it’s been there for so long that you’ve forgotten it’s even there? It was something like your nose suddenly disappearing—like something so fundamentally a part of you that you don’t even think about it, suddenly being wiped away. But when it disappeared, it took your sense of smell with it. No, it was more than just smell… and…

No, that’s not right—It was almost like going blind, but in an eye that you didn’t know you had—

Geez, it’s so hard to explain… how do you put into words what it feels like to have part of your soul torn out by the roots?

I staggered to one side and gave a strangled gasp. Beside me, Rainbow Dash fell to the ground with a painful crunch, and I actually heard Rarity swoon.

“What was that?” I croaked.

“What was what?” asked Pinkie Pie, innocently.

I looked around. Rainbow was climbing unsteadily to her hooves, Fluttershy was trembling, Twilight’s eyes had glazed over in a nameless panic, and Rarity looked like she was about to fall over. Pinkie and Applejack, however, just glanced at each other in confusion. Twilight looked up at me and stared for a moment, before her eyes suddenly grew wide. She reached up and groped for something in front of her, her movements growing frantic.

“Twilight, what’re you—?” I began. But before I could even finish, I knew exactly what she was doing. And, with growing horror, I reached up and felt my own forehead—and found nothing but a smooth, unbroken patch of coat.

My horn was gone.

I shot a glance at Rarity and saw that her horn, like mine and Twilight’s, had also disappeared. I turned to Fluttershy and Rainbow, already knowing what I was going to see, but desperately hoped I was wrong: not only had our horns disappeared, but so had our wings.

“W-what in Eques—?” I spluttered.

And then, a shadow fell across the sun.

“Weclome, foolish mortals,” intoned a voice, “to the Canterlot Hedge Maze.”

I squawked, then spun around and stared. And when I saw the shape standing over us, I trembled.

Discord stood in front of the gate, his claws spread wide in a gesture of mock welcome. Part of me wanted to laugh at him—after all, he looked like something dug out of the bottom of the animal kingdom’s bargain bin. Every part of him was mismatched: his limbs were covered alternately in skin and scales, while his body was coated in coarse brown fur. Even his wings didn’t match. His face was the only thing I could almost take seriously: it looked almost like a pony’s, but twisted somehow out of shape. The whole effect was faintly ridiculous, like one of those mix-and-match toys you entertain foals with.

And yet, as stupid as he looked, I couldn’t have laughed at him if I tried. He towered over us, his body long and ropy. His mismatched claws were long and wickedly curved, and his fangs glittered in the sunlight. His golden eyes were bright and sharp, and full of malice. And—though I couldn’t tell how—I knew he hated me.

Rainbow growled, then took a step forward. “What did you do with my wings?” she cried.

“I am your host, Discord,” he continued smoothly. “Kindly step forward please, the game is about to begin.”

None of us moved. Discord smiled a little wider.

“The rules are quite simple,” he continued. “I will be waiting for you at the center of the maze. If you manage to make it all the way to the middle, then I will return what I’ve taken from you, no questions asked, and we can all go our merry ways. But…” his eyes sparkled again “...if, for some reason you find yourselves unable or unwilling to complete the task, then I win. Winner take all,” he added mischievously.

I tried to keep eye contact with him, but I had to look away. There was something off about him, a subtle wrongness I couldn’t put my hoof on, that made my eyes water whenever I looked at him.

“Whaddaya want more wings for?” Pinkie piped up. “You already have two of your own…”

Discord’s gaze flicked over to Pinkie, a faint snarl of irritation crossing his face, but he quickly regained control.

“I’ve taken your wings and horns,” he continued in his same, icy-velvet voice, “to keep things interesting. After all, it’d be no fair if you could simply fly or teleport your wayto the center. Besides,” he added, grin widening again, “we don’t want dear Applejack and Pinkie to feel left out, do we?”

Pinkie gave an uncomfortable giggle that quickly trailed off into silence. Twilight shot her a look, then stepped forwards.

“What right do you have to play games with us, anyways?” she snarled.

“Excuse me, Miss Sparkle,” Discord snapped irritably, “I’m trying to give my Evil Villain Monologue.” He gestured in frustration. “I’ve been very much looking forward to it, so I think it’s exceptionally rude of you to interrupt.”

Twilight’s eyes widened in surprise. Discord sighed heavily, then started pacing.

“I play games,” he said, “because it’s my nature. Spirit of chaos, trickster god, et cetera.” He turned his evil eyes back to Twilight. “Just as it’s in your nature to be a busybody know-it-all.”

“Leave her alone,” I said sharply. “She’s not a—”

“Cece, lay off,” Twilight growled at me. “I don’t need your help.”

I stared at her in shock. She shot me a glance of profound irritation, then turned back to look up at Discord. I followed her gaze, and saw, to my surprise, that Discord was staring right back at me. Something inside of me trembled.

“So much for friendship studies, eh?” he said with a smirk.

Before I could respond, he turned away.

“I should mention, Your Highness,” Discord added, almost offhandedly, “I’ve also taken the liberty of rearranging some of the maze’s major features. I’m sure you’ll still find the place at least somewhat familiar, but we don’t want you gaining too unfair of an advantage based on previous experience, now do we?”

“We’ve already said we’ll play your game,” I said, my voice trembling slightly. “You don’t need to rub it in.”

Discord smiled again. “Then you misunderstand the nature of the game, Your Highness.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, he bowed.

“Entré donc, madame et mesdemoiselles,” he said, gesturing to the open gate behind him. “You have two hours to find me in the maze, and I am loathe to waste another secondof your time on such a fascinating conversation.” He looked around at us, meeting each of our eyes in turn. “Besides,” he added, his voice dropping to a purr, “I will be seeing each of you very, very soon.”

And with that, he was gone.

Author's Note

Thanks to SnakeEye for correcting my Prench :raritywink:

Rarity: Friendship With Benefits

There are, of course, a number of benefits to recommend being engaged to royalty. Fame, prestige, the biggest diamond you’ve ever seen on an engagement ring, and so on—not to mention other, more important things like companionship, happiness, fulfilment, and, of course, finding your soul mate in the pony you once thought least qualified for the job. Can’t forget that.

But one of the lesser-known benefits is the Palace itself. Whenever I can get a weekend away to come up to Canterlot, all I have to do to find accommodations is to write a letter a few days ahead of time, and I can walk straight off the train and into one of the plushest suites the Palace had to offer. This is especially useful since, as an established businesspony, I can’t just up and move, willy-nilly. I need a place to work, not to mention a decent storefront with big bay windows, a suitable location on a streetcorner, sufficient hoof-traffic, and so on. And finding a place like that takes a great deal of time and legwork—hence, why it means so much to be able to get accomodations anytime I needed them while still on the hunt.

Of course, I usually end up sharing Prince Blueblood’s room whenever I visit—but that’s proved to be less of a hardship than one might otherwise assume.

So once again, I had decided to take advantage of this particular benefit: I had scheduled a romantic dinner for two on Friday evening, an appointment with a realtor for Saturday afternoon, and a nice, luxurious visit to the Spa back in Ponyville on Sunday morning, to aid in my recovery from my little working vacation. I was looking forward to quite the enjoyable—not to mention productive—weekend.

At least, until I walked into Blue’s bedroom to drop off my things, and found Blue himself frantically packing.

“Oh, hey,” he said, embarrassed, as he shoved a pile of t-shirts into his suitcase. “I thought you were coming by later…”

“I was,” I said cautiously. “But my last fitting of the day wrapped up a little early, so…”

Blueblood smiled weakly, then ducked into his bathroom, leaving the door open behind him. I followed, and saw him forcing a jar of mane cream into his toiletry bag.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Something’s come up,” he said quickly. “I have to head out soon… and I’ll be gone all weekend. Sorry,” he added.

“What sort of something?” I asked.

Blueblood’s ears drooped. “Emergency… negotiations… with the, um… griffons,” he said haltingly. “Trade deal’s fallen through, and they—”

I rolled my eyes, then stood on tip-hoof and kissed him on the cheek. He froze, mid-sentence, and his expression relaxed into a goofy smile.

“That convention you wanted to go to is this weekend, isn’t it?” I asked.

His smile faded a little. “Yeah…”

“And Shiny managed to get you some last-minute tickets, didn’t he?”

He cringed. “They’re previewing the next edition...” he admitted.

I smiled. “Dearest, go play your games,” I said.

He stared at me, uncomprehending, for a long moment.

“I mean it,” I said. “I’ll be okay.”

Slowly, he broke into a wide smile.

“Tell me,” he began, “did you really remember that GameCon was this weekend, or…?”

I grinned. “I saw your suitcase. You only pack your pencils when you have one of your Vampony games…”

“Ogres and Oubliettes, actually,” he corrected. “Shiny’s convinced me to play a Warlock, and—”

“Yes, Dear,” I said, patting him on the cheek. “Now go finish packing.”

“You’re sure you’ll be okay?” he asked.

“Of course!” I replied.

“Maybe you could do something with Cece,” he suggested. “She doesn’t have anything going on tonight, I don’t think… might be nice to keep her company...”

I frowned thoughtfully. “That’s a good idea,” I said. “After all, it would be nice to get to know my future sister-in-law a little better…”

He smiled. “Sounds great!” He bent down and gave me a quick kiss. “Thanks again for this,” he said. “You sure you’ll be okay?”

“Of course!” I replied. “Though you’ll have to make it up to me next weekend.”

“With pleasure,” he said, smiling.

“That’s the idea,” I replied, with a roguish grin.

* * *

“So that’s how it happened?” gasped Celestia.

“Yes!” I cried, laughing. “She stole my diary, and reprinted it in her school paper!”

Celestia threw back her head and laughed. “Her school paper? Ponies magazine got your journal from a school paper?”

“Sweet Harmony, yes! I just about died…”

The two of us were in Celestia’s bedroom. Just as predicted, Cece had nothing going on, so the two of us had decided to have a good-and-proper sleepover, like we were fillies again. So, after a greasy takeout hayburger apiece, a sappy romantic play, and a half-hour of stallion-spotting in the Canterlot main square, the two of us had finally returned to the Palace. I had convinced Celestia to help me try out a new beauty routine I’d read about in Cosmare—hence, why Celestia currently had her mane in a towel and a green mud-mask on her face, and was lying on her bed with her forehooves dangling over the side. I, with a file in the grip of my magic, was in the middle of working on her hooves when she started asking me about Ponyville. Hence why we both found ourselves laughing about the most recent, and most stupid, thing that Sweetie Belle had done.

Cece wiped a tear from her eye. “S-so, what did you end up doing?” she asked.

I shrugged. “Oh, you know, the usual—gave her a lecture and let her go.”

Cece looked at me quizzically. “Let her go?”

I nodded. “Mh-hm. I think Twilight must be rubbing off on me, with her friendship studies…”

She cracked a grin. “Oh really?” she asked. “I’m sure we could still find a way to prank Sweetie, get at least a little revenge…”

“Though that is, indeed, quite tempting, Your Highness,” I said loftily, “I am doing my best to take the high road in this matter.”

She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, if you have to, I guess…”

“Though I do reserve the right to tell any of her future coltfriends about the incident, of course,” I added.

Cece burst into laughter, the sort of joyful, infectious laughter that you can’t help but join in on. We laughed for a while, the two of us, until Cece got a bad case of the hiccups. The sight of her, laughing and crying and hiccuping all at once, made me laugh even harder, but still, I managed to climb to my hooves and find her a glass of water.

After both of us had calmed down, I went back to filing the Princess’s hooves. She watched me work in silence for a few moments, then she licked her lips.

“So, speaking of gossip,” she began carefully, “how are you and Blueblood doing?”

I stopped filing, then looked up at her suspiciously. “What exactly do you mean?” I asked.

“Oh, you know,” she said, gesturing vaguely.

I grimaced. This was the one subject I wasn’t prepared to discuss with her… not if she was asking what I thought she was, anyways.

“Things have been going well,” I said carefully, focusing on filing down a tough spot on her hoof. “Though I expect you know all that, if you’ve been following along with the magazines…”

“Yeah,” she admitted, “But, y’know… it’s not the same as hearing it from you…” She smirked. “Is twoo wuv as magical as Pinkie says it is?”

I winced—but then, a thought occurred to me.

I paused my filing. “I suppose I could ask you the same question,” I said.

Celestia frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, you know,” I repeated with a sly smile. “How are things with you and your Wonderbolt?”

Celestia looked away. “I don’t wanna talk about it,” she said.

“Why not?” I asked. “He’s handsome, he’s dashing… and besides, fair’s fair…”

She shrank back a little, and looked down at her hooves. “It’s… not going well,” she said. “He’s nice… but I don’t know if he’s… who I need…”

I looked at her quizzically. “Whatever do you mean?” I asked.

“He’s just so…” she gestured helplessly. “Flighty. And no, that’s not a joke,” she added, shooting me a look. “Whenever there’s a problem, he flies away. Leaves it for someone else to handle. Even when that problem is us,” she said miserably.

I winced. “You can’t hold it against him to much, though,” I said. “After all, most pegasi are that way, at least after a fashion. Comes with having wings, I suppose…”

I filed another stroke or two at her hooves. “You know,” I added, “I actually dated a pegasus once… Thunderlane? Have you met him?” I looked up at her; she was still staring quietly at me, eyes cold. “Well,” I continued, suddenly uncertain. “He, at least, made for a good date. Flighty, yes, but impulsive, too, in a good way. Made things exciting. We could be walking through the park, just enjoying each other’s company, and, before I fully understood what was happening, we’d be watching a play together. Or racing paper boats. Or flying through the clouds, his arms wrapped around me, going to explore some waterfall, or cave, or…”

Cece’s hooves, in my grip, pulled back slightly. I looked up and saw her glaring back at me—this time, her eyes full of cold fire.

“But that’s not what you need,” I added quickly. “It’d be fun, yes—but you need a little more stability. When a storm comes through, you need someone to lean on, not someone who’s going to fly off and try and catch the lightning.” I sighed. “In fact, if memory serves… that was part of the reason why things didn’t end up working out between dear old Thundey and I…”

A little bit of a white lie… but we do what me must to help those we love.

“So,” I said, setting down the file and picking up a buffing sponge, “your Wonderbolt’s out, then. Who else do you have your eye on?”

She shrugged again. “I dunno.”

“Oh come on, there has to be somepony...”

She sighed, then looked up at me. “...Do you know Big Macintosh?” she asked.

I smiled. “Yes, and no.”

“What does that mean?” she asked.

“Yes, I know him,” I said, “And no, he’s not a good choice.”

“Why not?” she replied.

“First off, he’s too old for you,” I said. “Twenty-five or twenty-six, at least. And second, every mare in Ponyville already has her eyes on him—present company excluded, of course.”

“Of course,” she repeated.

“Besides,” I continued, “he’s already pining after one mare—the local schoolteacher, of all ponies. Do you know her?”

“Cheerilee?” she said. “Yeah, we’ve met…”

I nodded, then made another few strokes with the file.

“What about Captain Armor?” I asked.

“What about him?” she replied.

“Well,” I continued, “he’s tall, and strong, and good-looking… plus, Twilight says he’s great with foals…”

Celestia stared, uncomprehending, for a second or two, before she made a face.

“Ew,” she said. “You really think—me and Shiny?”

“Why not?” I asked.

She scowled. “Rares, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he’s my brother.”

“Step-brother,” I corrected, gently.

“Oh, gross,” she cried, yanking her hoof away from me. I jerked back in surprise.

“Yeah, he’s handsome,” she continued. “And yeah, he’d be a good husband. But that’s—that’s just weird. I grew up with the colt, Rares—even if his parents never officially adopted Blue and me, he’s still my brother.”

I nodded. “Then I suppose that the same reasoning goes for—”

A half-second too late, I realized what I was saying. I shut my mouth and looked away. Cece narrowed her eyes.

“The same goes for who?” she asked.

I cringed. “It’s just… there’s rumors… in the magazines and all…”

“Rarity,” Cece said dangerously. “What rumors?”

I took a deep breath. “Well… they say… not that I believe it, you understand…”

“Rares.”

I sighed. “They say there’s a… a bit of a thing between you and… you and Twilight.”

I risked a glance upwards. Cece was staring back at me, her expression blank.

I held the sponge up defensively. “You have to understand,” I blurted. “All that time you spent together as foals? All those late-night letters? All those afternoons you’ve spent pining for her? You have to admit, it does look a little… odd...”

Celestia sat up. “Rarity,” she said, her voice cold and hard, “that’s not funny.”

I stuttered to a stop, then made an uneasy sort of twittering noise.

She swallowed once or twice, then spoke. “Twilight is my best friend,” she said carefully. “And I love her to death. But that doesn’t mean I…” she gestured vaguely “...y’know.”

“Y’know,” I repeated.

“Besides,” she continued, “That would be like somepony saying that you and Sweetie Belle—”

I thought about it for a fraction of a second—then wished I hadn’t.

“Exactly,” she said, jabbing a hoof at me. “Twilight is my best friend. More than my best friend—sometimes, she—she’s almost a sister. But I never—-”

Cece stopped, shook her head, and took a deep breath. “I need to find a stallion, someday. Gotta carry on the Royal Lineage and all that. But I also…” she swallowed. “...I also want a stallion. You know what I mean? I’m just, y’know…” she shifted uncomfortably “...waiting for the right one to come along.”

I watched her for a moment, then nodded. “I understand,” I said. “My apologies.”

She sighed heavily, then flopped her head down onto her arms. “No worries,” she said. “Just… dating sucks.”

I nodded. “Indeed, it does.”

She turned and looked at me. “You’re lucky you don’t have to do it anymore.”

I smiled a little. “I am.”

“Just…” she sighed. “If you happen to hear any more of those… rumors… about Twi and me? Can you try and squash ‘em?”

I lifted my snout a few degrees. “I shall use all the talents at my disposal to invent a parade of suitors for you to dally with,” I said imperiously.

She cracked a small smile. “Thanks, Rarity,” she said.

“That’s what sisters are for,” I said.

Her smile widened. “I’ve never had a sister before,” she replied.

“That’s perfectly fine,” I said. “If I say so myself, I’m pretty good at teaching others what it means to be a sister.”

Her smile widened even more, and she sat up a little.

“Now come here,” I said. “I think you’re just about ready for the clear coat.”

“Ooh,” she said, extending both her hooves. “Sounds fun…”

9: "Fear and Loathing in Las Pegasus"

“Hallucinations are bad enough. But after awhile you learn to cope with things like seeing your dead grandmother crawling up your leg with a knife in her teeth. “

“Dammit, Discord,” I muttered under my breath. “Damn you and your shit-eating grin, and your…”

I continued to mutter profanities as I stalked through the maze. I was mad. But I had a right to be, didn’t I? Not only had Discord stolen the Sun Stone, stolen my wings and horn, and made us play some stupid game of his to get them all back, but he also split us up right as we were entering the maze.

Should have seen that one coming, really. As soon as we set foot inside, hedges sprung up around us, blocking us from each other. Smart, really… I probably would have done the same thing, honestly, if it were me…

But that wasn’t the only thing Discord had managed to do to the maze. He said he’d “switched some things around,” but I think he and I had different definitions of the concept. I’d learned the trick to the maze a long time ago—follow the hedge on the left, and you’d head straight out every single time. Only, as soon as I started following the wall, the maze twisted, somehow. Every time, I started walking in circles. It was almost like the wall knew what I was doing, and decided to curve back on itself—but only when I was trying to follow it. I even tried it with the hedge on the right, just to be sure, but the exact same thing happened.

But even accounting for the mysterious shifting walls, I had the distinct impression that this maze wasn’t the same one that had been here this morning. The paths were strange and unfamiliar, and twisted in bizarre ways—corners that were too sharp, somehow, or sometimes not sharp enough. Paths that seemed to twist back in on themselves at the same time they ran along straight and narrow. And once, for just a second, I had the distinct, gut-wrenching sensation that I was walking on the ceiling, with the blue sky lying below me...

Discord talked a big game about fairness, but he wasn’t playing fair. He was outsmarting me, and I didn’t like it.

“...and shove those horns up your ass, you damn, dirty…” I muttered.

And suddenly, I froze, and the words turned to ash on my tongue. My eyes grew wide.

He wouldn’t.

But he had. Standing in the shade of the hedge was one of those—those changelings. Standing there, watching me, green eyes glowing against the hedge—

My breaths came hard and fast. I tried to scream—

fire and smoke and blood and pain

deep darkness choking

scales and claws and wings and fangs

a tunnel of fire and ash

billowing flames parting

black shape lunging

screaming—-

THEY’RE HERE, THEY’RE HERE--

Slowly, the clouds parted. I was gasping for breath, and drenched with sweat. My heart hammered so hard, it almost hurt. I lay on the hard-packed dirt of the maze, surrounded by deep gouges where I had thrashed around, a fine litter of broken twigs and crushed leaves all around me.

I closed my eyes and concentrated on my breathing. Slowly, I brought my lungs back under control. Slowly, my heartbeat returned to normal. I sighed, then clambered to my hooves and dusted myself off. I looked around—and, for one, heart-stopping second, I saw the changeling again. But no—it wasn’t actually a changeling. It was only a pattern of light and shadow, created from the shape of the hedge. What I had thought was two glowing eyes was a chance twig, bearing two leaves that poked out into the sunlight.

I gulped, then looked away. I turned around trotted off deeper into the maze, away from the not-changeling, not even sure what direction I was heading anymore. Not even sure it mattered. As long as I got away from here.

I knew that pattern in the hedge was just leaves and shadow. But part of me—a larger part than I dared admit—still saw only the changeling.

Criterion: Alterations

I strode down the hall towards the throne room, my hooves ringing on the floor with each step. The guards at the door heard my approach like an oncoming storm, looked up, and quailed.

“Your Highness—” one managed to choke out.

“Get out of my way,” I snarled.

They dropped their spears like and scattered before me, like leaves before the wind.

I shot lightning at the door, blowing a great, gaping hole through its center. I strode through it, heedless of the dust, heedless of the cries of alarm. As the haze parted before me, I stared at the one pony in the world I hated the most: standing on the dais at the far end of the room, the false Blueblood, holding Rarity by the hoof.

“Sissy?” he gasped, turning towards me.

“Not another word, traitor,” I spat.

“Celestia,” barked Luna, climbing to her hooves. “What is the meaning of this?”

“This wedding is over,” I snapped. “We are all in danger, and that—that monster—” I said, jabbing my hoof at Blueblood, “wants to kill us all.”

Rarity took a step forward. “Cece, are you out of your—?”

“He threw me in the mines!” I bellowed. “The real Blueblood and I barely made it out alive!”

I whipped my gaze around the room. Everyone was staring at me, frozen, with eyes wide. “Seize him!” I roared. “Somepony, do somethi—!”

And then, I looked at him—really looked at the Blueblood standing by the altar. He stared back at me, in his flawless white tux, his eyes brimming with tears of shame and rage. As I stared, my heart stopped, and my gut turned cold.

Slowly, I turned to look back at the Blueblood behind me—the Blueblood I had rescued from the cave. He was leaning up against a pillar, an evil smirk on his face. As my gaze met his, he raised his forehooves and clapped them together slowly once, twice, three times.

“Finally figured it out, have you?” he said, dropping to all fours and walking slowly towards me.

I shook my head in mute horror, then slowly backed away.

He continued to advance. “You ponies are so adorably gullible, I’m surprised you’ve lasted this long,” he said. “It’s really quite astonishing what you can do with a few well-placed rumors.” He lifted his head a little, adopting an imperious air. “These roses are beautiful,” he sneered, “but I think what we were really hoping for were Dragonsneeze… so beautiful, this time of year…”

Without warning, he exploded in a flash of emerald flames. I shrieked, but the fire disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared. Now, the pony stalking towards me was no longer Blueblood, but Rarity—and yet, her eyes were as cold and sharp, her smile as wry and hateful, as they had been on the face of the pony she’d replaced.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she continued, as if she hadn’t been wearing a different pony’s skin a moment ago, “but I don’t think I requested apple tart for at the rehearsal. I don’t know why you would ever think I would…”

Another flash—this time, it was Shiny, wearing his Royal Guard uniform. “Just got word,” he said. “The Prince wants to make sure that we get to enjoy the festivities, too. Second shift, you’re off tonight. Go ahead and dress down, and get ready for some R&R…”

Another flash—now the pony on the carpet was just a normal Guard in his golden armor. “I’m your shift change,” he said. “Head on back to the barracks, I hear the Prince sent up some cake…”

Another flash—and this time, I froze in my tracks. The pony walking towards me was no guard, not any longer—it was me.

“Yeah,” other-me said lazily, “could you do me a favor, and tell Blue I can’t make it to the wedding anymore? Soarin’s aunt is letting us use her timeshare in Tampa Neigh, and I really don’t want to pass this up. So, just tell him that I decided not to come. And not to look for me in the crowd…”

“Stop it!” I shrieked.

Another flash of flame, and the other-Blueblood appeared again. “Really,” he continued, “it’s almost amusing how easily one can throw an entire palace into disarray with just a few, well-placed lies. Oh, don’t look so surprised,” he added, disdain in his voice. “It’s simple tactics—spread misinformation, then isolate the leader, keep her from communicating with her troops for as long as possible. Makes it exceptionally easy to take advantage of the chaos you’ve created. All the better if you can convince your prisoner you are on her side, and all your carefully-planned attempts to stall and delay her are just bumbling foolishness.” He tossed his head, flinging a strand of golden mane out of his face. “All the better if she’s the only one who’s caught on to your plans.”

I stumbled onto the first stair of the dias leading up to the altar. Blueblood—my Blueblood—ran to me and lifted me up.

“What do you want?” he growled at the other Blueblood.

Other-Blueblood’s grin widened—widened until his face split in two, widened until all we could see was his hideous, shark-tooth grin.

“Everything,” he hissed, his eyes flashing green.

And then, in a blaze of emerald flame, Other-Blueblood disappeared one last time. In his place stood a tall mare, her coat replaced with plates of black chitin, her horn twisted, her insect-wings ragged, her mane hanging thick and green and lank around her face.

And all around the hall, more emerald flames, as more and more of the guests turned from ponies I knew and loved into monsters from the blackest corners of my nightmares.

I screamed, but the scream was lost in the chorus of a thousand screams, and, over us all, the echoing laughter of the Queen before us.

10: "Doctor Faustus"

MEPHISTOPHILIS:
But tell me, Faustus, shall I have thy soul?
And I will be thy slave, and wait on thee
And give thee more than thou hast wit to ask.

I glanced uneasily up at the sun, sweat rolling down the back of my neck. I wasn’t sure what time we had gone into the maze, but I was pretty sure I had been walking around this stupid thing for at least an hour. I was hot, I was sweaty, my mane was a mess, and—

I rounded a corner and stopped cold. Gingerly, I took a step forward, and looked up in wonder.

I stood in the cool, dry, half-dark of a library. Towering shelves, filled with books of all description, loomed over me, their upper reaches disappearing into the gloom. The path under my hooves was no longer dirt, but beautiful dark hardwood. I turned around nervously to look behind me and discovered, not a twisting path leading back the way I had come, but a wood-paneled wall, blank and featureless, just steps behind me.

I gulped, then turned back around. Ahead, just around the next shelf, I could see a flickering glow of light.

“Ah, Your Highness,” Discord said suddenly, making me jump. “Glad to see you’ve finally made it. Please,” he continued, as one gold-scaled claw reached around the corner and beckoned to me, “walk into my parlour.”

I stayed frozen where I was.

After a moment, Discord sighed heavily.

“I mean you no harm, Princess,” he said, a note of irritation in his voice. “You have my word on that point. Besides,” he added, “you don’t really have an alternative… unless you happen to particularly like reading, that is…”

I paused another moment, then hesitantly walked forward.

Slowly, a cozy little nook among the bookshelves came into view. A round table flanked by two scarlet armchairs stood on an antique Saddle Arabian rug. On the table stood several small stacks of books, with an old-fashioned oil lamp, its flame wavering gently among them. And, in the closest armchair, his back to me, sat Discord.

I blinked. Discord wore a velvet smoking jacket, and a pair of wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. In one claw he held a thick, leather-bound book, which he was reading intently. In the other, he absently held a pipe.

“Please,” he said, waving his pipe at the other chair, “sit.”

I walked to the other chair and sat uneasily.

“Tea?” he asked.

“...sure,” I said hesitantly.

He gestured vaguely at the table, and I looked down at it. As I did, my eyes widened. A second ago, there had been nothing on the table but the books and the lamp, but now, a whole tea service lay before me, glittering in fine china.

Discord took a puff on his pipe, and a few soap bubbles drifted out of the bowl.

“I wasn’t sure how you took your tea,” he said, “so I took my best guess. One sugar, no cream—sweet, but with a bit of a bite to it. Just like yourself,” he added.

I glanced reflexively down at the teacup sitting in front of me, and caught sight of my own reflection. I was filthy. There were smears of mud all over my face, leaves in my mane, even one or two small scratches in my coat…

I pushed the tea away and looked up at Discord. Golden letters stamped on the cover of his book glinted in the lamplight. I leaned forward to get a better look: The Tragicall Historie of the Life and Death of Doctor Faustus, they read.

Hm. Never heard of that one.

I looked at the other books on the desk, and read the titles from their spines. All of them were equally strange: Fear and Loathing in Las Pegasus, The Garden of Forking Paths, Pride and Prejudice, Leviathan, La Principesa…

Discord slammed his claw on top of the stack, and I let out a little yelp. He turned the books so I couldn’t read their spines and shot me a dirty look.

“Just a little light reading,” he said. “While I was waiting.”

“You… read?” I asked, a little perplexed.

“On occasion,” he responded. “Doing a little research. For a side-project of mine. You understand.”

I nodded slowly, uncomprehending, then risked another glance down at at the table. What sort of research could he be doing that required those sorts of books?

Discord sat back and puffed on his bubble-pipe. He watched me with his bright, golden eyes, as if waiting for me to say something.

I swallowed, then licked my lips.

“So,” I began. “I’ve found you, then. Does that mean I win your game?”

“Not necessarily,” he said, eyes glittering anew. “If you recall, the rules were that you had to find me at the center of the maze. This,” he said, gesturing around himself with the pipe, “is not the center. Rather far from it, in fact.”

For just a moment, I felt disappointed. I’d been walking for what felt like hours, and I was still so far away…

“If this isn’t the center of the maze,” I said cautiously, “Then what are you doing here?”

“It’s simple,” he said. “Now that you are separated from your friends and we can finally steal a few minutes to ourselves, I thought I’d take the opportunity to pull you aside make you an offer.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What… what kind of offer?” I asked.

He leaned forward, his eyes glittering. “The sort of offer you can hardly refuse,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.

I leaned forward too—I couldn’t help it. “An offer of what?” I asked.

His grin widened into a smile.

“The thing everyone wants,” he said. “The thing you most desire.”

His eyes flashed.

“Your freedom,” he said.

The word hung there in the air, tantalizing, for a long moment

“My… my freedom?” I repeated, breathlessly.“I… I already am free,” I said. “I’m the Princess. I can do whatever I want.”

Discord quirked a little grin.

“So they say, Your Highness,” he said. “And yet…”

My office. I sit at my desk. Across from me stand Lemonhearts, and Twinkleshine, and Lyra. My friends from school.

“I wish I could,” I say. “I really do. But I have to get these reports done…”

Lem opens her mouth to speak, but Lyra butts in.

“That’s okay,” she says. “We know you have a lot on your plate. We just thought we’d ask…”

“Especially since Twink is supposed to be having her foal next week,” Lem adds sourly.

My eyes jump to Twinkleshine. She smiles brightly, then shifts to one side. Her abdomen is swollen, about to burst.

“Oh my gosh, I forgot—!” I cry.

I stand and spread my arms for a hug. Twink rushes in and takes it, wrapping her arms around me. I stroke her mane with one of my hooves. This feels right. It has been too long. I should go with them. I need to go with them.

And yet… my eye drifts back to the reports on my desk, two weeks overdue...

I gasped for breath. We were back in the library, Discord puffing away on his pipe, nose buried in Doctor Faustus again.

“She’s had her foal since then, hasn’t she?” he asked, almost casually. “A little filly, am I right?”

I took another deep breath, then nodded. “Avocado Toast,” I murmured.

“An adorable name,” Discord purred. “Her father’s idea, I presume? Trenderhoof has a real talent for keeping abreast of fashion, doesn’t he? Really quite admirable...”

I started to nod—but then shook my head. “That… th-that doesn’t change anything,” I stammered. “I could have gone with them. I just… didn’t want…”

Discord looked at me over the top of his glasses, smirking. "That's the nature of gilded cages, Your Highness," he said. “Only rarely can you see the bars from the inside.”

I blinked.

"Take your friend Rarity, for example," he continued. "She’s found a cage of her own, recently. She loves the spotlight, but fears the scrutiny. She's convinced herself that everything she's gained as wife of a Prince is worth dodging the paparazzi for... and yet, her sister publishing her secrets in a school paper nearly destroyed her..."

Something in his voice made my eyes go wide. “What have you done to her?” I asked.

“Please don’t change the subject,” Discord replied, a little smile on his face. “We’re talking about you, my dear. You, and the key to your cage. After all,” he added, “we both know that you want out. You’ve said it yourself: you’re no good at your job.”

My breath caught in my throat. Something inside me cracked.

“And, at this point,” he continued, “inflicting yourself on Equestria just because you are afraid of stepping down is sadism of the highest order.”

“I—I don’t—”

Orange flames leapt into being. The fire billowed outwards, and there she was, fangs bared, leaping towards me, the flames licking her gleaming black chitin—

And it was gone. I sat back in my chair, taking deep, gasping breaths, my eyes wide and trembling.

“You are a Princess of the Sun who is afraid of the dark,” Discord observed dryly. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe that speaks to your fitness to rule.”

A part of my mind spoke up. There was something wrong here. Something else was in my brain, rooting around, looking for a weakness. But, before I could even think what it was—

“You know, Celestia,” Discord said, his voice low and gentle, “there is a way out of your predicament. A way to make sure that you will never have to say the words ‘I can’t’everagain.”

I cocked my head—but just the slightest degree. A sour feeling was growing in my stomach.

Discord closed his book and set it down, then leaned forward, steepling his fingers. “You know me,” he said. “I am a being of bargains. And, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, I am also a being of great magical power. Just say the word, and Pow—” he snapped his fingers, making me jump “—I can make this all go away. I can set you free from the burdens of a kingdom you are not fit to rule, and a Peytral that is too heavy for you to bear.” He grinned. “I can even make everyone forget you were ever Princess, if you like. That way, you can live your life the way you want, unburdened by public scrutiny…”

Slowly, I nodded. He was so kind, so reasonable! After all, why shouldn’t I let him help me…?

But something inside me clawed its way to the surface.

“What are you asking in return?” I asked.

I had thought he’d be annoyed at my question. But instead, his smile widened.

“That’s the best part,” he said, eyes glittering. “All I want is something that I already have. All I want—” his tongue snaked out between his teeth and flicked across his fangs, leaving them glistening in the lamplight “—is your Peytral.”

“M-my Peytral?” I repeated.

“Yesss,” he hissed, barely masking the glee in his voice. “I’ve already taken it from you, after all. All I need is for you to tell me that I can keep it. Then, you will be free of all this. You can go and do whatever your little heart desires. No one will be able to stop you. All you have to do…” he leaned forward “...is say yes.”

I could feel it now. Something pressing on my mind. Something alien. Something trying to force me into giving in. After all, he made it sound so easy…

I stared into his eyes, full of manic glee, and then, slowly, shook my head. Discord’s grin became a snarl, and his claws clenched reflexively.

“Really, Cece?” he asked, his voice full of brittle sweetness. “I had thought that this was everything you’ve ever wanted. To be shed of your responsibilities. To be your own pony again.”

“But they need me,” I said, in a tiny voice.

Discord let out a sharp bark of laughter. “Need you?” he laughed. “Need you? My dear Celestia, don’t flatter yourself. They need someone, true—but you? Who in Equestria would ever need a Princess as clumsy and broken as you?”

I flinched—but only because the words were true.

“I mean, really,” he said with a scoff. “You let those bugs into the wedding, didn’t you? Or close enough, at least. Not to mention, you have to have Granny Luna make all the big-girl decisions for you. And look at yourself—age twenty, and still no heir.” He snorted. “You’re so hopeless you can’t even get knocked up right.”

I sat in my chair, trembling. I said nothing, just looked down at the floor.

After a moment, I heard Discord push his chair back, and heard him walk around the table and stop behind me. Gently, he laid his claws on my shoulders, and I jumped with a little yelp. But he said nothing, just lowered his head down next to mine.

“Let me make this very simple, Your Highness,” he said. His fangs were long and sharp, and his breath was rank and smelled of dead things. “I already have your Peytral. Enough of your friends have already forfeit my game that, per our deal, it’s mine anyways. All I’m giving you is an opportunity to get something out of this in return—the opportunity to be quit of your responsibilities, once at for all, and for no one to remember they were yours in the first place. You’re not good enough of a ruler to be Princess anyways—and now, you won’t have to be anymore.” He licked his lips again. “You have my word.”

Something inside me cried out, but, whatever it was, it was too small to make itself heard. Not with the great, black weight forcing itself down on my mind.

“Do we have a deal?” he murmured.

And slowly, I nodded.

The laugh started low and deep in Discord’s throat, growing louder and louder, until it billowed out around me, endless cascades of sound, a cruel and joyless mirth—

—and suddenly, I knew no more.

Niccolt Macavallo: Concerning The Special Dangers Presented By Flatterers

Excerpt from La Principesa, translated from the original Neightalian. The copy from which this excerpt is taken was found lying in the dirt on the former site of the Canterlot Palace hedge maze, with the page folded down on this passage.

I do not wish to leave out an important branch of this subject, for it is a danger from which Princesses are only with difficulty preserved. I speak of the flatterer, whose mouth is full of sweetness and lies, and who is an especial pest in the courts.

The flatterer seeks to deceive the Princess, and ingratiate himself to Her will. He desires nothing save to advance his own position, and to use his talent with words to do so. For this reason, a wise Princess should appoint a council of wise ponies of whom she can ask advice, and who have the permission to speak the truth to her. In this way, when the Princess grows unsure, she can gain true and wise counsel, untainted by greed or envy, and thus frustrate the desires of the flatterer with honesty and wisdom. For the flatterer, and those like him, pose a special danger to the Princess, one of which she may not be aware.

To illustrate this danger, I adduce an example from history:

Her Highness Celestia V, the Eighteenth Princess of the Sun, fell prey to a flatterer. By the age of twenty-eight, she had not married, nor had she a child. She desired both with all her heart, and yet, no suitor of sufficient quality could be found. Just as she began to despair, a new face appeared at court: an earth stallion named Lapis Philosophorum. Lapis was a skilled orator, and gained Her Highness’s ear. He persuaded her that he loved her, and that they would always be together; by this means, he was able to execute his plan.

Lapis was skilled with his words, but even more skilled with his potions. One night, as he and Her Highness shared a meal, he filled her cup with a brew of his own devising. Afterwards, the court physicians could not discover what it was she had drunk. Many assumed it was a draught of Aqua Amortis, a love potion; many others said it was a special poison that had driven her mad. It took them several days to discover that both were correct: Lapis had smitten Her Highness with love for him, love so fierce and deep and powerful it dulled all her other faculties. It was only by the meanest chance that Lapis was captured before he could escape Equestria with all the Palace’s treasures in his saddlebags.

And yet, even after she was cured, it is said that Celestia V still cared for Lapis. He was imprisoned in the dungeons, but was made comfortable in ways that many found unbefitting a criminal of his stripe. And, when Celestia V, still unwed, gave birth to a filly eleven months later, few were surprised she was born an earth pony, like Lapis himself.

Hence it follows that a flatterer may be the greatest danger to a Princess there ever was. Lapis used his flattery to reach Her Highness, and once he reached her, he poisoned her. But his flattery proved a danger not only to Her Highness, but also to all of Equestria: for among the treasures found in his bag was the Peytral Aurum. He was a thief, to be sure—but he had not stolen the Peytral, for such cannot be stolen. Under the influence of Aqua Amortis Malus, Her Highness had willingly given him leave to take it—the Peytral, and her wings with it.

Thus is the true danger of flatterers to a Princess. For a skilled flatterer can convince a Princess to part with much: her power, her riches, even her virtue. But most of all, a flatterer can convince a Princess to give up her Peytral. This is the true danger of flatterers, for a Princess can be parted from her Peytral by only one of two means: by death, that pale mare which parts us from all things, or, even worse, by willing another to take her glorious burden from her. There is no shame in the former, but great dishonor in the latter; even now, the artist paints Celestia V but without her wings, because she, the Princess, gave her right to rule away.

Be she parted from the Peytral, no matter how distantly, the Princess possesses it still. That is part of its power. Yet, if she lets it go willingly, even by deceit or trickery, then it slips forevermore from her grasp. Such is the danger of the flatterer, even to even a wise Princess.

Author's Note

This chapter is inspired, in part, by Daedalus Aegle's Discourse on Fillies. If you haven't read it already, you totally should! Excellent little look into both Luna and Diamond Tiara's psyches.

11: "Fun With Dick And Jane"

“Jane said, ‘Run, run. Run, Dick, run.’”

I looked out the window of the train. I hummed to myself. The trees rolled past me.

I was going to Ponyville. I was tired of Canterlot. I was going to spend time with Twilight. It was going to be fun.

I looked around. No one wanted to sit next to me. They looked at me with big, scared eyes. But I didn’t care. That meant I got the seat to myself.

Something caught my eye. I looked over. A little filly sat next to her mom. The filly was staring at me. Probably because I had those cool scars on my shoulders. Mom saw me look at the filly. She grabbed her and pulled her away. I sniffed and put my nose in the air.

But I got bored. So I looked out the window. I saw more trees. Out in the distance, I saw the clouds. The ones over Canterlot. They were swirling in a circle over the Palace. And they shot bolts of purple lightning. I thought they were neat.

And then I saw my reflection in the window. My mane and coat had all turned a pretty gray color.

I smiled. I liked it.

* * *

I was first off the train. I had to push the mare and the filly aside to get to the door before them. I was more important than them. They could wait.

I pranced out into the sunshine. I took a deep breath of air. It smelled like Freedom.

Someone bumped into me.

“Watch where you’re going,” I snarled.

The pony looked back at me, eyes wide. His saddlebags were full, and he had two little foals with him. The colt looked like he was about to cry. And the filly was holding her doll tight.

“You almost knocked me over,” I snapped.

“‘Scuse me,” he mumbled.

“No,” I spat. “No, you are not excused.”

The filly looked up at me. I glared back at her. She turned away. And then she tugged on her dad’s saddlebags.

“Is Mama going to be okay?” she asked. “With that monster an’ everything?”

“No one cares, ” I hissed. “Not with a kid as rotten as you.” I turned and flounced away. “I hope she dies,” I called back over my shoulder. I didn’t even care that the filly had started crying. They had almost ruined my perfect day. And nothing was going to ruin my day.

I was going to see Twilight. And we were going to do everything I wanted. Because we were going to be friends again. Just like old times.

* * *

Getting into the library was hard. Twilight wasn’t home yet. And the library was closed for some reason.

I wanted to use my wings to fly up. Twilight never kept her balcony locked. So I could sneak in that way. But Discord had taken my wings away. I thought he had done it when we had gone into the maze. But he hadn’t. I think he had used some sort of magic to make me think he had taken them. But when I had given him the Sun Stone, they fell off for real. It hurt. Bad.

But that didn’t matter anymore. Now I was free. And Twilight and I would be friends again.

I tried the door handle. But it wouldn’t open. So I used my horn and blew a hole in it. It swung open just fine.

The library was dark. But I knew my way. I walked up the stairs to Twilight’s apartment and pushed open the door. I stepped inside and looked around.

* * *

The door banged open. I jumped a little. But I turned around.

Twilight stood in the doorway. Her glasses were crooked. She looked mad and tired. I smiled when I saw her.

Behind her were her Ponyville friends. I frowned. Twilight was still purple. But all her friends had turned gray, too. They were trying to steal my look. I opened my mouth to tell them to quit it.

But Twilight spoke first.

“What,” she said, “in the name of Tartarus are you doing to my room?!”

“Redecorating,” I said.

Twilight’s eyes got big. That meant she liked it.

“Finally,” said the gray one with the long mane, “someone’s cleaning up the mess you made of the place.”

Twilight looked at her, then walked into the room. The others tried to follow, but Twilight slammed the door in their faces. She turned and looked at me. Her glasses were hanging off her face.

“I’m glad you like it,” I said. “I’ve been working hard. I threw out all the papers you had on your desk. And I put all your books back in the library. Now your desk is clean. Just like it should be!”

Twilight looked at her nice, clean desk. Then she looked back up at me.

“My books?” she repeated. “My papers? You—you cleaned them?”

“M-hm! Just the way I like it!” I said happily. Then I cocked my head. “You organize things really weird, did you know that?”

Twilight looked around the room, then shook her head and looked back at me. I blinked. Her eyes didn’t look happy.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. “And what happened to your wings?” she added.

I cocked my head again. “I’m cleaning! Just like I said!”

Twilight frowned, and her glasses slipped lower on her face.

“You know what I mean,” she said. “What are you doing here? And why now?”

My smile got a little smaller. Her question didn’t make any sense.

“Well,” I said, “this is where you live, isn’t it? Where else would I find you?”

Twilight opened her mouth. And she leaned forward. She looked like a fish gasping for water. She made me giggle.

“F-find me?” she repeated. “We’ve been looking for you for hours—e-ever since you left us at the maze. Ponies were saying you hopped on the first train south. Thought you might be running for Mexicolt. B-but you just came back here?”

“Yep!” I said happily. “And now that you’re here, think of how much fun we can have!” I trotted up to her and grabbed her by the forehooves. “We can have sleepovers, and talk about colts, and write each other notes, and all that stuff we used to do when we were fillies!”

I picked her up and hugged her close in my arms, then spun around the room.

“Just you and me, Twilight!” I said. “No Aunt Luna, no parents, no responsibilities… just you and me, like things used to be!”

“No.”

I stopped, then looked down at Twilight. “Enh?” I said.

Twilight looked up at me. Her eyes definitely weren’t happy now.

“No,” she repeated. She pushed at me, and I dropped her. She stood there, breathing hard.
“Things are never going back to the way they used to be,” she said.

“Why not?” I asked. “We had so much fun! And we were best friends! Why don’t you want things to be like that again?” I cocked my head. “Wait a minute,” I said. “Is this about the wedding?”

Twilight made a face. “Of course it’s about the wedding.”

“Oh, good,” I said. “I get why you’ve been acting so weird now.”

“You do, huh?” Twilight said.

I nodded. “Yeah, totally. Don’t worry,” I added, “I used to hate myself, too.”

Twilight opened her mouth to speak, but then she stopped and looked up at me, her eyes big and wide.

“Huh?” she said.

“Oh, yeah,” I continued. “I was Princess. I was supposed to take care of everypony. Make sure they were all safe, and all that. But I didn’t. The Changelings invaded on my watch. And I’ve been beating myself up for that ever since. So don’t worry about hating me for that,” I said. “I used to hate myself for that, too.”

Twilight looked confused for a second. “Used to?” she said. “What changed?”

I shrugged. “I don’t care anymore,” I said. “You should try not caring, too, Twilight,” I added. “That might help your mood a bit.”

Twilight just stared at me.

“I mean,” I said, “you’ve been so cranky lately. I don’t blame you for being unhappy, all the way out here, without—”

“I am happy,” she growled. “Happier than I’ve ever been.”

“How?” I asked. “Without your best friend around, how can you be happy?” I scoffed. “I mean, these country bumpkins can’t be real friends, can they—?”

“Celestia,” she said, “shut the fuck up.”

I stopped talking. And closed my mouth. Twilight took a deep breath, then shook her head. Her glasses fell to the floor. She took a step towards me. She stepped on her glasses, and they broke. I almost told her that, but she poked me in the chest with her hoof.

“They’re better friends than you could ever be,” she spat. “They love me. They’re not selfish—they care about me. When I’m with them, I’m not a sidekick. I’m not a fashion accessory. I’m a real pony, for the first damn time in my life. And I’m never going back.”

I scoffed. I was not selfish. Now she was just being mean, making up excuses.

“I never treated you like a sidekick,” I said. “I always—”

“Oh yeah?” she shot back. “When have you ever listened to me? Really?”

“All the time—” I began

Twilight snarled. She reared up, grabbed my mane in her teeth, and yanked, pulling my head down to her level. I cried out.

“What classes am I taking?” she hissed, fires burning bright in her eyes. “Where am I applying to go to college? What do I want to major in?”

I tried to pull away, but she was standing on my mane now. Her eyes were level with mine. Tears ran down my cheek.

“C-Canterlot Community College,” I stammered. “Y-you want to be an accountant. S-s-so you can come back and work at the P-Palace. With me.”

“No no NO!” Twilight bellowed, sparks shooting from her horn. “I’m taking history! And math! I’m applying to Stampford! I want to teach!”

“What does that have to do with anything?” I whined.

“Everything,” she snarled. “You are a selfish, self-centered, stuck-up excuse for a friend. You talk about how good friends we are—when’s the last time you wrote me a letter about anything other than yourself? When have you ever listened to me? About anything?”

I swung my head and pushed her away, off of my mane. “Blueblood’s wedding,” I said. “I-I let you help decorate…”

“Blueblood’s Wedding,” she repeated, disdain dripping from every word. “Do you even remember what you did at the wedding?”

“I told you,” I whined, “I let all the Changelings attack. Isn’t that enough?”

Twilight stared up at me for a long moment. A hot, angry tear ran down her cheek. “You don’t even remember, do you.”

It wasn’t a question. I just swallowed in reply.

“I came to you in the middle of the rehearsal,” Twilight began. She spoke every syllable with the deliberate care she would have used loading bullets into a gun. “I tried to pull you aside and talk quietly. I had evidence—written evidence. Letters that contradicted what Blueblood was telling the decorators. Drawings of how Rarity wanted the ballroom set up. Dates, times, and descriptions of every time the two of them had acted strange or out-of-character. I wanted to do something, quietly, to keep everything safe and under wraps. And do you know what you did?”

My eyes grew wide. I was starting to remember. “No,” I whispered—not an answer, a plea.

“You took my notes and threw them on a seat,” she continued. Tears were streaming down her face. “You didn’t even look at them. Just—threw them down. And Blueblood, he—he turned to you, and asked what was up. I tried to answer, but you cut me off. You said, loud enough for everyone to hear—” she stopped, sniffled, and looked up at me, her eyes brimming with fire and water. “—‘It’s nothing,’ you said. ‘Just Twi being paranoid again. Ignore her.’”

“I… I didn’t mean…” I began.

“Yes you did,” she spat. “Every word of it. That’s all I’ve ever been to you. Paranoid. Bookish. Reclusive. You never appreciated me. You never said Thanks, Twilight, or Good job, Twilight or even just Golly gee, maybe all your research is right, Twilight—we had been good friends, once, and that meant that you could do anything you wanted to me, and I would just take it. But no more,” she said, stamping her hoof. “I have real friends now. Friends who show me what true friendship is like.” She took a slow step towards me, and I backed away. “Friends who care about me for who I am.” She took another step forward, and I backpedaled. “Friends who don’t ignore me when I have something important to say.” Another step. “Friends who don’t insult me in front of everyone I’ve ever cared about, just because I have something important to say.”

I backed into the wall and yelped. I looked down at Twilight. She looked sad—no, not sad, furious—

“Twi,” I gasped, “I’m so sorry—”

“Shut up,” she snarled. “You never said sorry before. Don’t you dare apologizenow.”

“Twilight—” I choked out. Something was wrong here, something bigger—

She opened her eyes, then peered up into my face. “You say you’re my best friend?” she said. “I say you’re the worst friend I’ve ever had.”

In the sudden, ringing silence, the two of us stared at each other.

“Twi,” I breathed, “do you really mean that?”

Her eyes widened the slightest degree, and she looked away. For just a moment, I thought I could start breathing again—but then, she set her jaw. Slowly, she turned back and stared me in the eye, her gaze razor-focused on me, despite her lack of glasses.

“I do,” she said.

And, as I watched, something strange happened. I saw it first in her eyes: the flames grew a little dimmer, just a degree or two. Then her snarl relaxed the slightest bit. And then, her shoulders sagged.

And then I saw it. At the very tip of her tail, and at the bottom of her hooves, a light was gathering. It started to move up her legs and tail, and, where it had passed, her coat had turned from purple to stone gray.

“Twilight, no!” I cried.

She just looked away and closed her eyes.

Soon, the light was at her chest. Then her neck. Then it washed up and over her face. Before I could even breathe, the pony in front of me was no longer the Twilight I knew.

And suddenly, as I watched her, my knees started to tremble. Though I was standing still, I had the sudden impression that I was surging upwards, fighting my way out of a deep, dark bog towards the surface. I gasped—not in surprise or horror, but because it felt like, for the first time in weeks, I could breathe again. Like someone had been holding my head underwater, and only now let me come up for air. I shook my head, and the lingering trails of fog in my brain dissipated.

I looked down at my hooves and nearly shouted for joy. My coat had turned white again. I was me. I was my own pony again! I could—!

But then, the memories started to trickle back. I began to remember. No, not remember—I had never forgotten. Never forgotten every awful, terrible, evil thing I had done when I wasn’t… when I wasn’t myself. I had—

Oh—oh Harmony, what had I done?

Slowly, I turned to look at Twilight. She still stood where I had left her, stone-gray, looking down at her hooves. And suddenly, I felt like I was going to vomit.

I took a halting step forward.

“Twilight—” I began.

Twilight didn’t turn to look at me. “Go away,” she said.

“No, Twi—” I repeated.

“Just go,” she said. Her voice was low and quiet, but still hard and sharp. “I don’t ever want to see you again. I don’t want to see anyone. I want to be alone.” She took a breath. “Just like I always have been.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it. I watched her for a moment, then turned and walked slowly from the room. I turned back and looked inside before I closed the door, and what I saw made my heart jump into my throat: Twilight, turned gray, standing exactly where I had left her, her broken glasses still at her hooves.

Discord: Mate In Three

We interrupt your regularly scheduled emotional trauma to bring you a special edition of the Canterlot Comedy Hour, with our very special guest, Discord!

Oh please, please, thank you folks, you’re too kind. Too kind, really.

Now then. Onto the show. Stop me if you’ve heard this one, folks:

A whore, a jock, a hick, a coward, a spaz, a nerd, and the most infuriating little Princess you’ve ever met walk into a hedge maze. They say to the God of Chaos, Wah, wah, you stole our magic jewelry, give it back! To which the God of Chaos responds, Why the long faces?

Then they all died. Laughter, curtains, et cetera.

Well, to be fair, no one’s actually died. Not yet, anyways. But it’s coming. Oh, by the stars above, it’s coming. I have the game all planned out. I have for almost six hundred years.

You see, what many may not realize about me is that I play chess in my spare time. Oh, it’s not the chess you mortals are familiar with, not by a long shot. You see, I only have one piece on the board. You might think that would put me at a disadvantage, but you would, of course, be wrong. You see, I only have one piece, but I also control the board itself. I can make it bend and warp and change shape, however I please. And I am very good at making all the pieces dance exactly the way I want them to. They’ll even knock each other off the board for me, if I ask nicely enough.

So, one piece is all I’ll ever need. Sometimes, when I want an extra challenge, I’ll even give my opponent a few extra rooks or knights to play with.

So believe me when I say that I’ve played this game enough to know the pony’s next moves. Here’s what’s going to happen next. Spoiler alert, by the way...

The only one of those ponies I didn’t turn was Twilight Sparkle. That was on purpose, by the way; it’s no fun if you get every single one of them. You only get that really juicy mental anguish if you leave someone around in their right mind to see all the madness. I even let her keep her memories of Celestia’s Princesshood, just to squeeze out a few extra drops of despair!

So: Twilight is going to play the chaperone and get everyone home safely, get them tucked into bed with a cup of water and a kiss on the forehead—or, at least she’ll try. In the process, she’s going to discover that everyone she thought she cared about has gone absolutely, deliciously mad. She’ll try her hardest, sure, but nothing she’ll do will work. That’s the first move.

Second move: seeing the worst parts of her friends will break poor widdle Twilight. Maybe she’ll fly into a rage. Or maybe she’ll spiral into depression. Or perhaps she’ll simply go insane. You never know—that’s the fun part.

Third move: at this point, nearly anything Twilight can do will just make things worse for herself. Maybe she’ll lock herself in her room and slowly waste away. Or perhaps she’ll lash out at those around her, causing even more chaos. Or, once in a very great while, she’ll do the noble thing, and try to challenge me a second time. That’s always my favorite—getting to do the dirty work myself.

And then…? Well. That’s for me to know, and for you to find out.

Of course, there’s always room for variance. Maybe Twilight will find a way to break one of her friends free; it’s happened before. Or maybe she’ll finally succumb to my influence—after all, I left enough question marks inside her skull that my whispers might end up winning her over after all. It doesn’t matter, in the end… not as long as she helps me flush out my real prey.

You see, I’ve been playing chess for a very, very long time. And I have been defeated only once—and even that was just a minor setback, really. So now, after a thousand years, I’m back for my rematch. A rematch that, if I say so myself, is going very, very well.

Checkmate in three moves, Your Highness. I’ll see you very soon, when it’s finally time to take you off the board.

Laughter.

Curtains.

Et cetera.

12: "One Hundred Years of Solitude"

“Alone, abandoned by his premonitions, fleeing the chill that was to accompany him until death, he sought a last refuge in Macondo in the warmth of his oldest memories.”

The train had barely rolled to a stop before the door to one of the compartments burst open. Five or six refugees spilled onto the platform, each in different states of panic and despair, but the first to hit the ground was Prince Blueblood. He stumbled a few steps, then looked up, his mane wild and his eyes crazed.

“Rares!” he cried, whipping his gaze across the huddled masses waiting at the edge of the platform. “Rarity! Where are you?”

“She’s gone,” came a voice. “But, even if she were here, you’d still be wasting your breath.”

Blueblood turned and stared at the direction the voice had come from. He swallowed hard, and some of the blind panic drained from his eyes, replaced, instead, by a gnawing, nameless fear. He crept towards the pony who had spoken, who sat, tucked behind a pile of luggage, under the eaves of the ticket office.

“Cece?” he asked, breathlessly. “What are you doing over here?”

I tried to curl into an even tighter ball. “Trying to figure out how to un-screw us all…” I said.

Blueblood glanced nervously over his shoulder. Even from this distance, the clouds swirling over Canterlot were still visible. As we watched, an arc of lightning forked down towards the Palace, making Blueblood flinch.

“That… wasn’t you, was it?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yeah,” I admitted. Blueblood looked at me in alarm, and I squirmed deeper into my seat. “Kinda.”

Blueblood turned and watched me for a moment. I could see the gears turning behind those eyes of his, chewing at a problem that had been bothering him. Then, his eyes widened, and he blinked.

“Cece,” he said suddenly. “Celestia—you’re a Princess.”

I looked up at him. “Huh?”

He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, like trying to shake off a heavy fog. “You’re—you’re my sister. My only sister. And I’m a Prince. That means that you have to be a Princess. Have to be.” He grimaced, then shook his head again, more fiercely this time. “Why can’t I remember…?” he hissed to himself.

I shook my head, my eyes wide. “He said you wouldn’t,” I breathed. “He said no one would…”

Blueblood looked up at me. “He?” he repeated. “He who?”

I grimaced, then looked away. For a moment, Blueblood said nothing.

“If you’re a Princess,” he said, “and you have to be… where are your wings?” he asked.

I reached back and touched the thick, fleshy scars where my wings had once been.They didn’t hurt, not physically, but they still made my insides twist painfully.

“They’re gone,” I said simply

I closed my eyes and sniffled. Blueblood watched for a moment, then sat down, right there on the platform, and took my hoof.

“Cece,” he said gently, “look at me. Please?”

I swallowed, then slowly turned and met my brother’s eyes. They stared back into mine, deep pools of aqua blue.

“What happened?” he asked.

Tears started to prick at the corners of my eyes. I squeezed them shut and shook my head.

“If you tell me, I can help,” he said gently.

I opened my eyes and looked at him again—and suddenly, everything I had said, everything I had felt, everything I had done, just welled up inside me. I let out a ragged sob, and big, fat tears started to roll down my cheeks. Blueblood’s eyes widened, but he grabbed me and pulled me in tight.

“It was Twilight,” I blubbered. “She’s been mad, and I tried to fix it, but then he took the Sun Stone, and then—”

“Shh, shh,” he murmured, rubbing my back. “It’s going to be okay…”

I shook my head. “No it’s not,” I blubbered. “I ruined everything…”

“I know,” he murmured, patting me on the back. “I know… But now I’m here. And I’ll help you figure it out.” He squeezed me a little tighter. “I’m your brother. That’s my job, isn’t it?”

* * *

I swallowed the last of the doughnuts, then smacked my lips. They were those little cheap ones that you only found in vending machines, the sort that taste like plastic and leave your mouth all greasy. But Blueblood had found them for me, somehow, and I needed them more than I could even say. I washed them down with the last mouthful of chocolate milk from the carton Blue found, too, then set it down beside me.

Blueblood himself watched me silently, his eyes wide. “So…” he began slowly, “that… monster has the Sun Stone.”

I nodded. “And the Elements of Harmony.”

Blueblood returned the nod. “And Rarity is… possessed by him, too?”

I hesitated. “Not… possessed,” I said carefully. “More, like… twisted...” I tapped my hoof on the table, trying to put the feeling into words. “More like… like all those parts of you that you hate about yourself… every bad habit and ugly thought that you’ve ever had… that becomes you.” I snuck him a frightened glance. “Her,” I corrected. “That becomes her.”

I hadn’t told him that Discord had done the same thing to me. Hadn’t told him how terrifying it was to realize I’d become my own worst enemy—become the pony I’d always tried to keep myself from becoming.

Or, as Twilight had just told me, the pony I’d secretly been all along.

Told you, said that dark voice inside me. Told you all you were doing was dragging everyone down…

I squeezed my eyes shut and bit the inside of my cheek--bit down until I trembled. When I opened my eyes again, Blueblood was watching me, concern on his face. But whatever he was thinking, he didn’t say it. Instead, he swallowed.

“So… does Rarity remember her… friends?” he asked.

I shook my head. “I don’t think so,” I said. “When I went to talk to her, she barely recognized me. And, when she did, she tried to shake me down for loose change.”

His eyes widened. “What about the others?” he asked.

I shrugged with one shoulder. “All the same,” I said. “Fluttershy insulted me, Pinkie screamed that I was bothering her, and I couldn’t even find Rainbow. And Applejack… Applejack tried to blame the whole thing on me… and she… and she…”

I sniffled, and a tear rolled down my cheek.

“Stop that,” Blueblood said sharply.

I shook my head. I would have told him No, but I didn’t trust myself to speak.

“It’s not your fault,” he said sternly. “Discord tricked you. Yeah, maybe you shouldn’t have fallen into his trap in the first place, but you can’t blame yourself for trying to do the right thing.”

I bit my lip. I wished I could believe him. But he didn’t know what it was like, having Discord in my head. He wasn’t some Power Ponies villain, who had flipped my personality upside down just because he could; he had dug everything I hated about myself out of the dark core of my soul and brought it to the fore. That meant that, even though I had been under some sort of magical curse, I was still me. Every nasty, awful, evil thing I’d done, some part of me had wanted to do it. And I couldn’t deny it, no matter how much I wanted to.

Discord hadn’t tricked me into giving him the Sun Stone—he’d just shown me how badly I wanted to do it in the first place.

“Cece, listen,” he barked. I jumped; he hadn’t yelled, but his voice was hard and powerful. He hadn’t asked, he had commanded. I looked up at him, the faintest twinge of fear in my eyes.

He sighed, then ran a hoof through his mane.

“Listen,” he repeated. “You can’t dwell on the past. Sometimes it can help, but other times… it’s just holding you back. Beating yourself up for something you can’t change isn’t going to help anyone. All you can do is move forward and try to do better.”

I sniffled, and started to smile—but then, his words triggered something in my brain. My eyes widened.

I turned to Blue—and was somewhat surprised to find that he was still talking.

“What did you say?” I interrupted.

“Huh?” he asked, looking at me, surprised.

“What did you say?” I repeated.

“What,” he said, confused, “the thing about the goose?”

“What—?” I began, then stopped myself. “No, no,” I said, gesturing, “before that,”

“Uh…” he cleared his throat. “Don’t blame yourself?”

“Yeah,” I said, “That. Where’d you hear that?”

He frowned in return. “Does it matter?” he replied.

“Now it does,” I snapped. “Luna told you that, didn’t she?” I insisted.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “But I still think it’s a good idea…”

“Shshsh,” I said, waving at him to be quiet. He looked at me, perplexed—but it didn’t matter. My mind was suddenly racing with possibilities.

Suddenly, I stood. “When’s the next train to Canterlot?” I asked, urgently.

He looked at me, mouth hanging open. “Cece,” he said slowly, “what are you doing…?”

“If I told you, you’d try and stop me. When’s the next train?” I asked.

Blueblood chuckled darkly. “With all this mess going on?” he asked. “Probably never.”

“Well then,” I said, “I think this means I’ll have to find my own way back.” I leaned in and gave Blueblood a hug. “Thanks,” I said, “For everything.”

He hugged me back—then frowned and pulled away. “Waitasecond,” he blurted, “where are you going?”

“Home,” I said.

He looked at me sharply. “Home?” he repeated. “Why? Everyone’s trying to get as far away from there as possible right now, and you—?”

“Trust me, Blue,” I said. “I have an idea.” I gave him a quavering smile, then leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll be okay. But, y’know...” I swallowed, my guts suddenly twisting. “I-if I don’t make it back…”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, grinning wryly. “I’ll make sure they bury you with your trumpet.”

I smiled, despite myself. “Bye, Bloob,” I murmured, then turned and trotted toward the train platform.

Blueblood watched me go with a placid little smile—which suddenly turned into a panicked grimace.“Wait!” he cried out. “What about Rarity?”

“Check her old shop,” I called back over my shoulder. “That’s where I found her.”

“And what am I supposed to do then?” he called after me, almost pleading.

“I dunno,” I said, looking over my shoulder at him. “Maybe try True Love?” I added with a grin. “Pinkie always says that works.”

Blueblood looked at me in disbelief. I laughed.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “You’ll figure it out. You always do.”

Blue gave the faint hint of a smile.

“That’s my big bro,” I said. “Now, I’m off to save the world.” I winked. “Don’t wait up.”

Applejack: Poison Apple

Hey, you there—yeah, you. I know what you’re lookin’ for. And what you’re lookin’ for is a story. So siddown, cause I got one for ya. A good one. One that you ain’t never heard before, trust me.

A’fore I start, though, let me lay some straight shootin’ on you: this farm? The very one you’re standin’ in right this minute? This is the Princesses’ favorite vacation spot in all of Equestria.

Harmony’s own truth! Cross my heart and hope to fly, however all that goes.

Y’see, it all started a couple years back. Big Mac had hurt himself real bad right before harvest time. I could’a brought in the harvest all by myself, but I decided to let my friends come in and help, ‘cause I’m just that nice. But Twilight, see, she told Princess Celestia about it, and she came on down herself to help out. What a sight that was—the Princess of the Sun herself, buckin’ apples in my orchard!

And then, a few months later, Princess Luna got kicked out of the Palace, and decided to live here in little ol’ Ponyville... musta been because she’d heard what a good diet of apples will do for your coat an’ complexion. Anyhow, Princess Luna wanted to meet all the most important ponies in Ponyville, so she and Twilight came here straightaway, as soon as they got off the train. We all got together and gave the Princess a right proper Apple Family Welcome, and made sure she got somethin’ to eat, and introduced her to all the cousins, all that. She liked it so much that she just wanted to stay with us, right in our hayloft—but Twilight made her sleep in the library with her, because everypony woulda got jealous of the Apples if she hadn’t.

An’ ever since, then, we see the two Princesses ‘round these parts once or twice a month. Granny and Princess Luna are best friends now, if you believe it--realized they had a lot in common when she was stayin’ with Twilight--so we see Her Highness a lot. She don’t never do much whenever she’s here, though. She always comes in a big froo-froo dress, and she and Granny just sit on the porch and talk about things. And sometimes, when Celestia’s in town, she comes down and sees if she can help buck apples or prune branches or something. She says she likes the work, but I think she’s really here for the company. See, us Apples don’t have the patience for high-society nonsense. So, when the Princess needs to get away from it all, she likes to come down here, where things aren’t so noisy, and where you can really feel the earth beneath your hooves. Then, while she’s workin’, she asks me, Applejack, her closest friend and best advisor, what she should do at that big ol’ Palace a’ hers, and I tell her what she needs to know. You ask me, that’s why Equestria’s been running so great lately: because someone up there is finally running off good old fashioned horse sense. Can’t trust unicorns to run the place by themselves, after all—they don’t have enough oxygen to keep their brains workin’ right all the time, living high up in the mountains like that...

‘Course, the other reason Celestia likes to come down here is a little more personal. Y’see, she’s secretly in love with Big Macintosh! She told me herself that she can’t wait to marry him... but she’s decided to let him make his own decisions by her. Because, if you really love somepony, you let them come along at their own pace…

Keep your horseshoes on. I know what you’re here for—and I’m gettin’ to it. What I’m tryin’ to say—what you gotta understand, here—is that we’re mighty protective of our Princesses ‘round these parts. More than most, I reckon.

Now, before I can tell you the story you’re here for, you need to hear another story. Why? ‘Cause if I just tell you outright, you won’t understand. So just sit down, be quiet, and listen good. I don’t like repeatin’ myself, if I can help it.

It happened, oh, about six-eight months ago, on the opening day of cider season. The Princesses must’a heard how fun it was to be here with all the craziness, so they arranged a trip for the occasion, all special-like. Ain’t nothin’ in that big ol’ Palace like a mug of genuine Apple family cider, after all. And they had a grand ol’ time of it, too, so I hear—talkin’ and laughin’ with all their friends, finally gettin’ a taste a’ that cider, all that.

But then, those Flimflam brothers showed up with their newfangled machine—-and boy, was that a mess! Granny bet them the whole farm that the Apple Family cider was better than anything they could make—which, to be fair, wasn’t much of a bet, because Apple family cider is the best cider in Equestria. But, because they had that big ol’ machine, we needed all the help we could get to keep up with ‘em. I think we all just kinda expected the Princesses to sit on their backsides, watching us do our thing—and Princess Luna did, to be sure. But she’s an old mare, she had an excuse.

Celestia, on the other hoof… never seen a pony work that hard in my life. Honest! Twilight was runnin’ things, of course, and she started Cece off sortin’ the good apples from the bad with Granny, on account of her refined, Princessly tastes. But by the end, that weren’t all she were doin’. She was runnin’ all over, helpin’ with whatever needed to get done. She was dumpin’ apples in the grinder, tossin’ out the bad apples before Granny could get to ‘em, workin’ the treadmill when Big Mac or Rainbow needed a break, and even usin’ her magic to stack the barrels up as high as they could go!

(We don’t ordinarily put much stock in unicorn magic in these parts—some things are too delicate to have everything just floatin’ around willy-nilly—but we didn’t really have time to be picky.)

Anyhoo. We ended up losing—but only because Flim and Flam cheated! But a bet was a bet, so we were gonna do the honorable thing and skedaddle. But Princess Luna stepped up, see. We thought she’d just been sittin’ around watchin’—but she was actually writing letters to the recordkeepers at Canterlot. And it turned out the terms of the Apple family’s Royal land grant, on which we’d planted the orchard all those years ago, said that it couldn’t be transferred to nopony else unless there weren’t no more Apples to take it. So, those Flimflams had to turn tail and leave us alone, forever.

(I guess you nobles aren’t completely worthless, after all, with all your titles and records and stuff… But I’ll be darned if they ever come in useful again...)

So then, the Royal Guard showed up and arrested the Flimflams for high treason, and the Guard dumped all their cider in the river because it was a health hazard and an offense against good apples, and…

Now, what’d I tell you? I told you to sit and listen. Ain’t you got the patience to be still for five minutes?

‘A course I know you know the story. It was all over the papers. But I also know that you don’t know it all. Why? Because, Prince Blueblood, you weren’t there to see it.

Aw, quit interruptin’, Blue. You weren’t there, and we both know it, you old tomcat. Oh, sure, you were supposed to be. You came down for the cider an’ all. I sold you three mugs myself. But when we needed you to help out? You didn’t lift a hoof. And don’t try to tell me different, I was watchin’.

Y’see, us Apples knew you treated Rares and Cece bad, back in the day. Rarity’s a special friend of ours, and Celestia’s always done good by us, so we weren’t ready to give you another chance just yet. But Cece told me you’d got better, that you weren’t so much of a playboy anymore. Rarity said it, too. So I said to Big Mac, I said—let's have you and him run the apple grinder together. Then Rainbow can go and get more apples from the trees quicker, speed the whole process up. And y’all said that was a good idea, both a’ you. But when it was time to actually work? You weren’t nowhere to be seen.

Don’t try and lie to me. I know exactly where you were. You said you were gonna help out and everything, but when we needed you? You up and left. You and Rarity, both. After all the excitement died down, I went lookin’ for you—and I found you out behind the woodshed makin’ out. And probably doin’ things that Granny wouldn’t approve of, not to mention that Applebloom was too young to see.

Aw, quit your whinin’. Save it for someone who cares.

See, there’s somethin’ I betcha don’t know about apples, Blueblood. Most of the apple is sweet, but the seeds? The seeds are poisonous. Eat too many, and they’ll kill ya from the inside.

Well, I’m gettin’ awful tired of bein’ sweet.

So, no, I’m not gonna help you find Rarity, Blueblood. ‘Cause we were willin’ to give you an extra chance, but when we needed you, you ran off. You insulted our hospitality—ours, and the Princesses’. Downright rude makin’ ‘em do all the work like that. And don’t give me no excuses, neither—I don’t want to hear ‘em. I ain’t gonna change my mind: for all the good you did for us, you can go help your own damn self.

Y’wanna know somethin’ else, Blueblood? Winona ain’t been fed yet this morning. Oh, yeah, she looks adorable, but you wouldn’t be the first trespasser she’s sent to the hospital. It usually takes her a minute to pick up the scent, though… which is why it’s been awful polite a’ ya to sit there and listen to me spin a yarn for so long.

So, let me make this real simple: if you don’t get off my property right this instant, I might not have to feed Winona for a while yet. I don’t care if you are Rarity’s husband and Prince of the realm. No one crosses the Apples and gets away with it.

Not anymore.

Now, git. I think I hear barkin’ on the wind.

13: "Return of the Native"

“Black chaos comes, and the fettered gods of the earth say, Let there be light.”

There’s something immensely liberating about having nothing left to lose.

“What are you trying to do, kill us?” shrieked the engineer.

“What does it look like?” I roared back, using my magic to shovel another load of coal into the furnace.

The quickest way back to Canterlot, aside from flying, was by train. But with all the refugees fleeing the chaos, the only trains running were going away from the city. So I’d had to commandeer one.

“Don’t!” he shrieked, slamming the furnace door shut. “You’ll blow the boiler!”

“Does it looklike I care?” I bellowed, tearing the door open again, and shoving another load of coal inside.

I had no authority to speak of—none that he’d remember, anyways. But you’d be surprised how persuasive an angry unicorn a full head taller than yourself could be. I’d made the engineer disconnect every car except the coal car, then turn the whole engine around.

And everything was going surprisingly well—at least until we got into the mountains.

The engine, rattling and hissing at the joints, screamed around a bend, leaning perilously outwards. The engineer howled in terror and clung to the steel railing. I risked a glance downward, then almost retched; there was nothing below me except a thousand-foot drop to the Canter Valley below.

Then, with an almighty crash, the engine tipped back onto the track and raced on. The engineer slumped to the floor and murmured a prayer to Harmony. I just looked up at the track ahead—and paled.

Up ahead were the walls and towers of the Canterlot Palace, the place I’d called home for my entire life. From this angle, it looked so small and delicate, almost like something in a snowglobe. Or, it would have, were it not for the swirling, purple storm that blotted out the sun.

No—I leaned closer—not a storm. A hole in the sky. It boiled as if alive, swirling and twisting and writhing in patterns that made your eyes water--and, over it all, a low, dull roar that shook you to your very bones. It looked as if the storm were ready to eat Canterlot whole the second someone gave the word.

My eyes widened, and I turned to the coal car behind us, my horn already ablaze—but the car was empty, save for a few stray lumps in the corners. I stared for a half-second, then turned back to the furnace again, my horn glowing even brighter.

“What are you doing?” the engineer cried, scrambling to his hooves again.

“Saving Equestria!” I bellowed back.

Fire—burning, golden fire—shot from my horn and into the open door of the furnace. It exploded back out again, spraying sparks and coal dust around the little cabin, and billowed out of the smokestack above us in a golden roostertail. The engineer shrieked and grabbed the railing as the engine lurched forward. But I just stared into the fire, willing the train to go faster—to get to Canterlot there while there was a Canterlot left to save.

* * *

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

The engineer literally hung on the pull-cord for the train’s whistle, while I turned and kicked the brake lever. The train lurched, and I crashed against the control console. I stood, a little dizzy, and saw the train station rushing towards us—and rushing too fast. I screamed, the engineer screamed, the train itself screamed. I lit my horn—

The next thing I knew, I was lying on my back, head spinning, on the floor of the little control cabin. I stumbled to my hooves, shook my head a little, then turned to the engineer where he lay quivering on the floor.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

He whimpered, then peeked at me from under one of his arms. “You almost killed us,” he croaked. “Are you crazy?”

“You’ll understand. Eventually.” I swallowed. “I hope.”

He looked around. “My train…” he moaned.

I looked up and winced myself. “Send the bill to the Palace,” I said. “Care of Princess Celestia.”

He peered up at me. “Who?” he asked.

I sighed, then hopped off the locomotive. Squeezed into every square inch of the platform was a crowd of refugees--a crowd now standing completely still, staring at the wreckage in a frightened silence. I flashed them a grin, then stepped forward.

“ ‘Scuse me, folks,” I said. “Official Royal business. Coming through!”

The crowd parted silently, and I trotted out and onto the street. As I left the station, I looked around, got my bearings, and started galloping towards the Palace.

That run—it couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes, but it felt like hours—was one of the most unsettling experiences of my life. Canterlot, ordinarily buzzing with the lives of a hundred thousand ponies, was silent as the grave. Sidewalks with ponies pressed so close together, you could barely breathe—parks filled with the joyous cries of children—shops and markets roaring with the cheerful sounds of shopping—all of them, completely silent and empty. And, behind it all, the purple-black stain on the sky that threatened to consume everything, and the roaring of the end of the world.

If I wasn’t already having nightmares, that would have done it for sure, let me tell you.

I galloped up the front steps of the Palace. The gates stood abandoned, hanging open a few feet. I squeezed my way through the gap, then dashed into the Palace itself. I ran into the main foyer, then skidded to a halt.

I looked around at the empty foyer, my mouth suddenly dry. I just realized that I had forgotten one thing: the Palace was huge. I knew my way around, but how in Equestria was I supposed to find one pony, in all this emptiness--if she was even still here…?

“Celestia? Cece, is that you?”

I nearly jumped out of my skin, then whipped my head around. Behind me, Soarin’, still in his Wonderbolts suit, was gliding in for a landing.

“What are you doing here?” I gasped.

Soarin’ landed lightly a few feet in front of me.

“I saw you from the air,” he said. “I just thought—”

“Listen,” I interrupted. “There’s no time. Do you know where Princess Luna is?”

He nodded. “She was up on the east side of the Residence Tower,” he said. “On one of the balconies.”

I nodded my thanks, then turned to leave.

“Let me help,” he said, taking a step after me.

I hesitated, then turned back to Soarin’. I pulled him close, then kissed him once on the forehead. As I pulled away, he smiled weakly.

“Thanks,” I said, “but no. Get out of here.”

Soarin’s face fell. He opened his mouth to protest, but I shook my head.

“This is something I have to do on my own,” I said. “Really.”

Soarin’ bit his lip, then looked up at me again.

“I need you to trust me,” I said. “Please. Go help with the evacuation, if you have to.”

He closed his mouth and, slowly, nodded. “I do,” he said. “And I will.”

I smiled at him, then bent down and gave him another kiss--on the lips, this time. “Thank you,” I said.

Soarin’ turned and spread his wings. He was just about to take off—but then, he froze. He turned back to look at me, a frown on his face. He ran his eyes over me, taking in every detail—and finally, pausing on the fleshy scars over my shoulders.

“We’ll talk later,” I said. “You should get going. Really.”

He bit his lip, then nodded. He turned back, then took off and flew down the hall and out the doors. I watched him go, then turned and looked at the doors leading deeper into the Palace. I took a deep breath, then broke into a run.

And, as my breath began to come in ragged gasps again, I realized I was smiling.

It took me another ten minutes or so to find Luna—on a balcony on the east side of the Palace, like Soarin’ had said. I stood there, in the doorway, my chest heaving, and watched her for a moment. She stood on a balcony, with her back to me, overlooking the gardens below. She wore the same dress she had that morning, though she had re-done her makeup and her mane, at least. One might as well look presentable when facing down the end of all things, I suppose.

She was wearing her full regalia, too. She had on her official horseshoes and crown, and, through the neckline of her dress, I could see she still wore her black Peytral--the Peytral Ferrum.

I hesitated. Luna looked older than I’d ever seen her. She was, what, seventy? Eighty? I’m not sure even she knew, with the whole Nightmare Moon thing and all. But she was seventy-something in the same way she was tall, or had a navy coat; it was just a part of who she was. And yet, seeing her, standing there, waiting for the end, she actually carried those years of hers. I could read every single one of them—and perhaps a dozen or two more—in the lines etched on her face and in the way she stood, unmoving, looking down at the garden.

I followed her gaze, then swallowed uneasily. Luna was gazing out at the hedge maze—or, where it used to be, at least. Now, all that was left was a low depression, almost a crater, of bare dirt. Above the crater swirled the hole in the sky, lit with the occasional dark flash of lightning. And—I squinted—at the center of the crater, twenty or thirty feet above the ground, hovered a single point of light. The light was almost blinding, even from this distance—and, if I wasn’t wrong, it looked like an inky purple tendril reached down from the nightmare sky above and touched that brilliant, burning whatever-it-was.

I swallowed, then stepped forward.

“Princess Luna?” I asked cautiously.

She did not react.

“Auntie?” I asked again, “Do you remember me?”

She turned her head toward me, but only a degree or two. I couldn’t see her eyes—I had no idea if she knew me, or remembered who I was. But she was listening, at least.

I risked another step forward. “You know him, don’t you?” I asked. “Discord, I mean?”

For a second, I wasn’t sure she’d heard me—then, she lowered her chin by a half-inch. A nod.

I swallowed again. “You’ve fought him before, haven’t you?”

Again, a long pause, then another half-inch nod.

I licked my lips. “Then—do you know how to fight him?”

A sudden shiver ran down Luna’s spine, then she bit her lip and shook her head.

“Your Highness,” I said, walking up beside her. “Equestria needs your help. I need your help. I’ve already gone up against Discord once, and he had me beat before I even knew we were fighting. My friends didn’t do much better—and I doubt anyone else in Equestria could.” I took a deep breath, then looked up at her. When she saw me, she looked away.

I reached out, put my hoof on her cheek, and turned her gaze back to meet mine. I looked into her eyes, and I saw a spark of recognition—recognition, then horror—but she looked away.

“Please,” I said. “If you know anything, tell me. You’re the only one who can help, and I… I can’t do this on my own.”

Luna glanced at me, then closed her eyes. But, in that half-second, I thought I saw something in that look of hers… a pain, deep-seated and old, almost forgotten, made raw all over again…

“Princess,” I said. “Whatever it was that went wrong last time… the two of us, we can make it better. We can stop it from happening this time—and, with any luck, stop it from happening ever again.”

With her eyes still closed, Luna grimaced. But, as I watched, her face relaxed again, then hardened—along different lines this time. . And, when she opened her eyes, they were clear and sharp. She looked me in the eye, and the sudden strength in her gaze sent chills down my spine.

Criterion: Reactivity

“Don’t cry, Rarity,” Pinkie murmured. “It’ll be okay…”

“You sure about that?” snapped Rainbow.

“It. Will be. Okay,” Pinkie repeated, louder.

“Girls, shut up,” I hissed. “There’s another one…”

Another changeling squirmed his way through what was left of the massive double-doors at the entrance of the throne room, then made his way down the red carpet that ran the length of the hall, towards the dias at the far end. As he walked, he wove his way around the wreckage of all the wedding chairs, and through the throng of the hundreds of other changelings, each buzzing to themselves as they did Harmony-knows-what. The big one that had been Blueblood—their queen, apparently—walked back and forth in front of the hall, striding back and forth between my throne and Luna’s. She noticed the little drone approaching, and turned to watch him come. He scampered up onto the dias and said something in their language—lots of butt-wiggling, lots of wing-buzzing, and a few snaps and growls.

As they spoke, I turned and shot a nervous glance around me. The changelings had snagged a number of prisoners, myself included. They’d also snatched Rarity, Twilight’s other four friends, and a ragged assortment of wedding guests. They’d cemented each of us to the floor with some sort of mucus that had turned hard as stone in seconds. They’d even spat some of it on our horns, keeping us from using them for anything other than decoration. Blueblood, Luna, and Twilight were still unaccounted for, thankfully. Hopefully, they were planning some sort of rescue mission for us already. But in the meantime, we were stuck here, all of us together, in this nightmare version of my throne room.

Rarity, still wearing her wedding gown, had been stuck right next to me. She’d been crying for over an hour. I mean, you couldn’t exactly blame her, of course, but there wasn’t anything we could do, and the crying wasn’t helping. In fact, as much as I loved her, she was starting to get on my nerves a little...

I tried to distract myself by turning back to watch the queen talk to her drone. You had to hand it to her: her plan had worked perfectly. She had engineered every second of my escape to ensure I made the most dramatic entrance possible—making her own revelation, in turn, all that more horrifying. Pretty genius, actually—scare the horseapples out of anyone watching, and they would rather run away than fight back. In fact—

“...buzz kck bz ck-klk Twilight buzz.”

I jerked my head up. He had said Twilight. I’d heard it, I’d swear it. Had she managed to pull something off?

The queen buzzed and snapped at the drone, then looked up at the door. A half-dozen more soldiers strode in—and my heart sank.

“Oh no,” breathed Fluttershy.

Between them, they carried Twilight, bruised and unconscious. They hauled her into line with the rest of us and tried to get her to stand, but she dropped to the floor the second they let go of her. They conferred among themselves for a moment, then they each vomited their mucus on her where she lay, pinning her to the floor.

“Is she breathing?” asked Pinkie.

“Looks like,” Applejack replied.

As I watched her lying there, my chest began to tighten. Every breath became a battle. Blackness started to swim around the edges of my vision. Twilight was going to be the one save us—she had to—and now, if she was here, like this, then we… then we…

“Y’hear that?” Applejack asked suddenly.

“Is that… singing?” asked Rainbow, incredulously.

I turned to follow their gaze. A dozen or so of the bugs had moved to stand, shoulder-to-shoulder, in a semicircle around the hole in the big front doors. From beyond came a crash, then the sound of raised voices.

“That sounds a littlelike…” Fluttershy began.

“But that’d be crazy!” finished Pinkie.

The changelings fluttered their wings angrily, finally catching the queen’s attention. She turned and hissed a question at them, and one of them responded in kind. But before the queen could reply, another voice made itself heard, floating through the hole in the door:

“He-e-ere comes the groom,” sang the drunken voice, “all dressed in—in—”

“That’s Blueblood,” I breathed, dumbfounded.

The bugs at the door pressed closer together, but the queen at the far end smiled wickedly.

“Let him pass,” she said, in Equestrian. “This will be sure to be… entertaining.”

The guards didn’t hesitate. They didn’t even look at each other. They just stepped aside and melted into the shadows of the wreckage around them. And through the gap in the doors, stumbled the stallion of the hour, my brother, Prince Blueblood.

His tux was rumpled and dirty, and a few cuts and spots of dried blood marred his jacket. His mane was dishevelled, and his bowtie hung loose around his neck. His eyes were bloodshot and weary, and it wasn’t hard to tell why: in the glow from his horn, he held a massive bottle of what looked to be the Palace’s best cognac, already emptied by several inches. I could smell the booze on him from here.

“Queenie!” he slurred, stumbling forward. “So nice to see you!”

She bowed low. “The pleasure is mine,” she said, her voice smooth as silk, despite a faint, buzzing rasp. “If I had known you would come and see me of your own accord, I would have sent an invitation instead of a search party.”

“Well, you know me,” he said, sloshing a generous amount of booze on the carpet, “I just can’t keep my hooves off a pretty mare…”

I snarled, then shot Rarity a glance. She stared, open-mouthed, at Blueblood, the tear tracks still drying on her cheeks.

“Oh come now, Your Highness,” the queen said. “You should know that flattery doesn’t work on one such as myself. Besides, I’m spoken for—I have an entire harem of drones, back at the hive…”

“You dirty little horse,” Blueblood replied. He stumbled forward and bumped into one of the bugs, splashing him with liquor. “Oops, sorry,” he added.

“I must say,” the queen said, barely suppressing the amusement in her voice, “you have made quite the mess of yourself, even given the circumstances.”

“Ah, y’know,” he slurred, “I was thinking that, since the wedding’s off… I might as well start the party a little early.”

As he reached the steps leading up to the dias, his horn flickered, and the bottle tipped over slightly, spilling more booze. He tried to climb the steps, stumbled, and somehow managed to stay upright long enough to make it all the way to the top. Absently, he dropped the bottle on the carpet, which started to pour its contents on the floor.

“Y’know what I mean?” he continued, shooting a goofy grin at the queen. “You know what I mean.”

“Get ready,” Rarity whispered to me.

I looked over at her, incredulous. To my surprise, she was smiling—but it was a hard, determined smile.

“What do you mean?” I replied.

“Not so loud,” she hissed. She nodded at Blueblood. “He’s planning something.”

I turned and looked at him, still making googly-eyes at the queen. “What makes you think that?” I whispered.

“It’s an act,” she whispered back. “He doesn’t talk like that when he’s actually drunk. Don’t look at me like that,” she added. “Yes, we are adults. Yes, we have spent a few evenings sampling the Palace wine cellar together. Deal with it.”

I looked at him again—and suddenly, I saw. It was like one of those optical illusion things: no matter how hard you look, all you can see is the dumb bunny, until someone points out that what you’re actually looking at is a clever little duck. Yeah, he was swaying and slurring his words, but no matter how much he stumbled, he always kept a sure footing, and every single word of his was intelligible.

I turned back to Rarity and gave her a silent, wide-eyed nod. Rarity smirked in satisfaction, then turned to Pinkie, who stood on her other side.

“Get ready,” she whispered again.

I nodded my encouragement to Pinkie, who turned and passed the message along. I was about to tell the pony on my other side—some random noble from who-knows-where—when movement on the floor caught my eye. I turned and stared. As Blueblood stood, talking with the queen, the rest of the changelings in the room had slowly been gravitating towards the two of them. Now, Blueblood was surrounded by a dense half-circle of black forms, their wings buzzing erratically as they talked amongst themselves.

The queen looked over her subjects, and smiled. “I assume you’ve come here for some reason other than the conversation?” she asked. “As delightful as this little interlude has been, you’re too smart to come waltzing in here without good reason, even as drunk as you are...”

Blueblood flashed her a goofy grin. “Naw, Queenie,” he said, “I gotta reason. A good one.” He belched, shook his head vigorously, and swallowed. “I gotta gift for ya,” he finished.

“A gift?” she said, amused. “Praytell, what sort of gift do you have for me, the Queen of the Changelings?”

“Wanna guess what it is?” he asked. He lit his horn, and, from one of his pockets, he withdrew a small object, barely larger than a toothpick, and held it up to her.

She stared, uncomprehending, at the thing. “I don’t understand,” she said. “What is it?”

Even from here, I could see the change in his posture. He straightened up and squared his shoulders, his drunkenness falling off him like an old coat.

“It’s everything you deserve,” he snarled.

He shot a spark at the kitchen match he held in his magic, and it flared to life. He dropped it on the alcohol-soaked carpet at his hooves, and it blossomed into sapphire flames. The fire raced down the length of the carpet, engulfing a swath of the changelings, before leaping onto the broken chairs. In seconds, clouds of choking black smoke were billowing upwards. I flinched. The changelings deserved everything they got—and yet, the screaming—

Meanwhile, Blueblood charged towards us. He had leapt out of the way before the match even hit the carpet, and was making a beeline towards us.

“Bloob!” I cried.

“Blueblood!” Rarity cried, in the same instant.

He skidded to a stop, then shot a beam of blue light at Rarity’s hooves, and a second one at her horn. The hardened slime around them broke and shattered. Rarity gave him a quick peck on the cheek, then dashed off into the smoke.

“Rares, wait!” I cried.

He looked up at me in surprise. A flash of guilt crossed his face, then he turned to me. “Rarity can take care of herself,” he grunted, as he shot magic at my hooves. “Help the others.”

I nodded, and, as soon as the shell broke from my horn, I turned and started to work on Pinkie.

The screaming of the changelings was growing louder, and the smoke was starting to fill the hall. Some of the bugs had taken flight, their wings and their manes still burning, while others ran in circles or rolled fruitlessly on the floor.

I freed Fluttershy and Applejack, then turned to Twilight. I zapped the shell holding her down, then Applejack scooped her up, draped her over her back, and sprinted for the exit. I turned to the other prisoners still stuck in the slime, then glanced over at Blueblood and did some math. Too many ponies, not enough time—!

And then, Rarity appeared.

“Sorry about that, Darling,” she said. “I just had to do a little pest control.”

And then she doused her horn and dropped the object she had been holding. It was the broken-off stump of the bottle of cognac. Thick, green blood dripped off the broken end and onto the floor.

Luna: My Dearest Genevieve

My Dearest Genevieve,

I hope that this letter finds you well. You will be pleased to hear that I made it home safely after our last visit. I know it was only for a week-end, but nevertheless, I shall remember it fondly for years to come. Please give my well-wishes to your grandchildren: Big Macintosh was, as always, such a help with the luggage, and Applejack played quite the gracious hostess, and, of course, Applebloom’s sunny smile did much to bring some warmth back into these old bones.

Speaking of which: I tried that remedy you recommended. The kitchens were somewhat confused when I passed on the instructions for a reduction of applesauce, garden herbs, and strong liquor, but I prevailed upon them at last. I must admit, it did not help my knees as much as you hoped it would. Perhaps it works better on hardy souls such as yourself? For my part, I have always been partial to Mistress Silk’s poultices, especially her Arthritic Joint Cream. I know you do not generally put much stock in medicines that you cannot manufacture at home, but I would still be more than happy to send you a sample if you think you may want to try it.

Our visit was, of course, delightful, but I must admit that I am glad to be home again. My duties are trying, as always, but it is good to get back into the routine. And, though your hoofcrafted rocking chairs are quite charming, these old bones of mine are much more comfortable when they have their accustomed padding underneath them. Not to mention, Oolong Chai is ever so skilled at preparing my tea just the way I like it. But most of all, I am glad to see my grandchildren again.

Oh, Twilight is still back in Ponyville, to be certain, and I do so love to see her in the flesh. But you see, I have assigned her some books to read. Nothing too grueling, I do not think, just some books of history and etiquette, of the sort to prepare her to Succeed me at some point. Oh, of course, she is still studying to be a schoolteacher—admirable, as always—but I do think it prudent that she plan for unpleasant eventualities… eventualities that, if I am honest with myself, may come sooner than either of us would hope.

In any case, I was quite pleased to find that Twilight had kept up with the schedule we had agreed upon even while I was away, and that I had a stack of reports on my desk to read upon my return. That is one of the things I most admire about my Twilight: she is an exceptionally diligent student, and makes room for my little projects even despite the other schoolwork she already has. Perhaps I should find my way towards giving her a break every now and then… I cannot fault her report-writing, of course, but I hear that she finds the whole program rather stressful. I suppose it is the thought of having to take over so many duties at once that intimidates her… though I would like to think that part of her trouble is the thought of missing me when I am gone, as well.

At any rate: I thoroughly enjoyed seeing the young gentlecolts again too. Shining Armor remains steadfastly at his post, though that means there is precious little more to say about him than what you have already heard. Though, rumors are swirling that he has his eyes on a young mare of late… one Sunshine Smiles, if I hear correctly.

Prince Blueblood, on the other hoof, is in the midst of planning his wedding. Things are going well by all accounts, though not without the expected pre-wedding chaos. To see him and his fianceé so frantic, one would almost hope they would just elope and be done with it, tradition be damned. But Rarity is, of course, set on a traditional ceremony, and Blueblood is set on pleasing her, so there is nothing more to be said.

I really think it might do you good to see them, Genevieve. It reminds me a little of when I was their age, a blushing bride picking out her china patterns… but I digress.

But the one of my grandchildren that really surprises me is Celestia. Oh, of course, I complain—we do have that right, after all, us old nags—but she really is doing a splendid job, all things considered. She is headstrong and stubborn, and sometimes refuses to listen to reason or good sense, but, more often than not, she does the right thing.

You know… she really angers me, from time to time… but I truly am proud of her. Of course, she is not yet the sort of Princess that Equestria needs, but, then again, I am here to help her until she is… and, of course, I admit that she is doing better than I was at her age. I was quite a foolish little filly, if you believe it...

Now, my dearest Geniveve, I must end my letter here. I have more to say, of course, but my inkwell runs dry, and I am still fatigued from my trip. I do so wish to hear from you, as soon as you can write, and I hope we can plan another visit soon—perhaps you could come up to the Palace, this time? I know you disdain both locomotives and flying carriages, but I would be more than happy to arrange a Royal escort for your wagon, if you would have it.

Yours, as always,

Princess Luna I of Equestria
“Loony”

15: "Fahrenheit 451"

“That favorite subject: myself.”

Luna cried out, then doubled-up. Without the Moon Stone, her wings were already beginning to collapse. But I couldn’t go to her—not now. Something greater was at stake.

I charged forward. “Discord!” I roared.

Discord turned to me, and looked faintly surprised. “Ah,” he said, “It’s you this time. Not what I would have expected in the least…”

“Don’t change the subject,” I snapped. “Give me the Elements!”

He stared at me a second, then smirked. “No,” he said, “No, I don’t think I will.”

I knew it was coming, but to hear him say it was still a shock. “You gave your word,” I hissed.

Discord cackled as he transferred the Moon Stone to his other claw, where it joined the complex orbits of the other Stones. “I did,” he said. “But there’s one thing, in all your plans, that you failed to account for.” He snapped his fingers, and all the stones disappeared in a twinkle. He smiled wickedly, then turned to me again, his eyes full of fire. “I am Discord—Spirit of Chaos and Disharmony. I am bound by no laws, save those I consent to. That means,” he added with a snarl, “my word is worth exactly what I say it is. And, if it is in my best interests to convince you stupid ponies that I can be trusted to do what I say, then that’s what I’ll do. At least, until I can convince you to let me have exactly what I’ve been wanting all along.”

I stared at him, open-mouthed—then my face twisted into a snarl.

“Of course,” he continued, turning to look at Luna, “you’d think she would know better by now. This isn’t even the first time it’s worked on her.”

I glanced down at Luna, then cried out in surprise. She lay in a drift of loose feathers, ugly, fleshy scars over her shoulder blades where her wings had been—but gone, too, was her horn. Princess Luna lay before me, stripped of every sign of her Princesshood. Now, she was nothing more than an old earth pony with a few unfortunate scars.

Discord bent down and picked her up by the chin. I skittered backwards with a shriek, but he just grinned. “Isn’t that right, my sweet?” he said, his eyes locked on Luna.

Luna, her eyes still closed, just groaned.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

Discord looked at me, a triumphant grin on his face. “She hasn’t told you yet?” he asked. “Well. She never was very good at fixing her mistakes.”

Discord drew himself up to his full height, then leered down at me. “You two are not the first Princesses I’ve tangled with, you know,” he said. “Your kind have been staving off entropy and disorder ever since you started rubbing sticks together to make fire. For thousands of years, I’ve been lurking in the shadows, waiting—setting a trap here, twisting a knife there, doing whatever needed to be done to keep life interesting—and to keep me strong.”

“Strong?” I repeated. I risked an uneasy glance over my shoulder. Every instinct in my body told me to keep Discord talking. Every second he was talking was another second the world had to live.

“Yes, strong,” Discord said. “I am a creature of chaos. I thrive on the stuff. As a force of nature, I cannot die—after all, even in the hard times, there’s enough particle decay in the universe to keep me going. But the more disorder, the more chaos there is in the world, the more powerful I become.” A snarl crossed his face. “At least that was the idea. Up until they found a way to imprison me.”

“You were imprisoned?” I asked.

“Yessss,” he hissed. “Imprisoned. By your ancestors, in point of fact. Which brings us back to dear old Lulu,” he spat, shooting a disdainful glance at Luna, who was starting to stir. “When she was young, I was at the height of my power. The world cowered before me—all of it, except for Equestria. You see, you ponies had a Queen to protect you—Queen Celestia, the last of your kind to take the title. Queen Celestia was powerful, indeed. She used the Cosmic Stone in her charge, not only to move the sun and the moon, but to keep me at bay. She had me beat, I must admit—until I remembered that she was not alone in that palace of hers. She had two daughters, one of which had a reputation for being a stupid, lovesick little tart.”

“I was fourteen,” Luna rasped. I whipped my gaze to her, only to find her struggling to her hooves, her legs shaking. “I was fourteen, and you promised—”

“Oh, boo hoo,” Discord snapped. “Poor widdle disadvantaged Woona. Younger twin of a popular princess, no hope of ever Succeeding in your mother’s place, cooped up aww awone in that big old castle of yours. You knew about all the defensive spells the Queen had put in place. You knew who I was, and what I wanted. And yet, you were so desperate for some attention that you were more than willing to leave open your bedroom window the second I promised I would visit you. And that single act of a lonely, lovesick heart let me slip right past all the best-laid defenses of generations of Queens.”

“You spent six. Months,” she growled, “pouring poison in my ears, telling me that the only thing keeping us apart was Mother. That, if I let you in my chambers, you would whisk me away—and I had the stupidity to—”

“Bah,” Discord countered with a dismissive wave of a claw. “Make all the excuses you want, Princess, but the fact remains that you were the one who let me into the Palace. You were the one that gave me the access I needed to your mothers’ bedchambers. It was your fault that I ambushed her as she slept—and it was your cries that woke her, just before I could wring her filthy neck.”

I stepped backwards. “You… you killed Queen Celestia?”

“Tried to, Dearie, tried to,” he sneered. “That was the only way to get the Cosmic Stone away from her, after all—she was too smart to be wheedled out of it like you lot. But, widdle Woona here woke her up, for all the good it did. Our battle was tremendous!” he roared, rearing up, a sudden fire in his eyes. “Legendary! A clash of titans! One for the history books, truly! In one corner,” he bellowed, gesturing, “one of the most powerful equines this planet has ever known, bolstered with an artifact that made Nature itself function. But, in the other…” An evil grin spread across his face. “A force of that same Nature. One that was powerful. One that was patient. And most importantly—one that could not be killed, no matter how hard his opponent tried.”

He clenched his claws reflexively. “Which is why it was so infuriating when Celestia found a loophole,” he spat. “She didn’t kill me. Instead, she sealed me away, in the gap between worlds—in the crawlspace of reality, if you will. I was not dead, because I could not die—but I was not alive, and thus, would pose no further harm to her precious kingdom,” he snarled.

But then, his snarl relaxed into an easy smile. “Oh, Celestia was good, of course, but not omnipotent. Not by a long shot. Her spells were powerful, but even the best magic unravels over time—and, eventually, some gaps began to show. Not large ones, by any means, but big enough for me to whisper through. It took some time, but my whispers found an ear—and those whispers bent that ear to my will.” He smirked. “It’s remarkable how easy those changelings were to persuade.”

My gut froze. “You’re responsible for the changelings?”

“Oh, I wish I could take credit for those wondrous little marvels of nature,” he said mildly. “But no. I can’t. I can’t even really take credit for the little…” he gestured vaguely “...disruption they caused at the Wedding. But I will admit that I gave them the idea to try something. I was hoping that they might be able to soften you up a little bit, maybe frighten a few of you—but I had no idea they would upend things so thoroughly as they did. Not that I’m complaining, of course—they were excellent little puppets—but they gave me the strength I needed to force open one of those little gaps your great-great-grandmother left.”

“So, you have freed yourself, then,” Luna interrupted. “What does that have to do with us?”

“Did I say I was free?” he snapped.

“You said—” I began.

He cut me off with a dismissive wave, his eyes still on Luna. “Luna, dear, please try to keep up. I detest having to explain myself to lesser beings, doubly so if they’re not paying attention.”

Luna snarled—but I suppressed a grim smile. He was proving rather long-winded for hating explanations—and every second he kept talking meant that he might, somehow, make a mistake...

“I am still imprisoned,” he continued. “Most of me, anyways. The form you see before you is but a sliver of my being that I squeezed through the cracks. Oh, believe me,” he added, “it’s wonderful to be able to stretch my wings a little after a thousand years—not to mention, my back, and legs, arms, and horns, and all the rest of me—but nothing compared to what I could be.” He shot me a sidelong glance. “It’s a good thing for you, at least, that I’m not. I doubt your little brain could hold all my majesty at once. The mere look of me in my glory would probably break your mind into little pieces… I think I even made somepony’s head explode, once…”

Beside me, Luna growled.

“But that’s neither here nor there,” Discord said quickly. “As I said: still a prisoner. But there’s a way out, you see. And for that, I need the power of Queen Celestia. My powers are incredible, even in this state—but I need the Cosmic Stone to actually break the chains she put on me.”

I blinked. “But the Cosmic Stone is gone,” I said.

He clicked his tongue at me. “Ah, Celestia… I know Twilight is more of the student of history than you, but I would have expected you to at least be able to keep up…” He grinned again. “You see, my battle with Queen Celestia ended rather badly for yours truly. But it wasn’t a total loss. After all, I managed to give the Queen a wound that would take her life. She had enough strength left to seal me away—but the Stone itself did not. It cracked under the strain, and split into two. One half became the Sun Stone—” he held up one claw, and the deep purple stone reappeared in a flash “—one became the Moon Stone—” he held up the other, and the silver-white stone flashed into being “—and the broken shards—” he brought his two stones close together, and, with six tiny flashes of light, the Elements of Harmony appeared.

Luna sucked in a breath, and I let out a little gasp.

“Ah, now you understand,” he purred. He plucked one of the Elements--the pink star that belonged to Twilight--out if its orbit, and danced it across the back of his fingers. “Rather poetic, isn’t it?” he continued. “Sun and moon, fire and ice, life and love—” he grinned wickedly “—and the ponies trapped in the middle.” He flexed his claws, drawing the Stones closer together. “And now, you understand, what glorious fools you all have been.”

“S-so what?” I stammered. “You can’t use them all—”

“Of course I can,” he snarled. “I have all the pieces of the Cosmic Stone, together for the first time in ten centuries. It will be child’s play to reassemble them—and, once reassembled, to shatter the spells that keep me bound. And then…?” He chuckled darkly. “Well. The Cosmic Stone is said to have the power to re-write the laws of reality itself. Maybe we’ll see how Equestria fares under a King, for once…”

“You cannot do this!” Luna cried, stepping forward. “You must not!”

“Of course I can,” he said, almost lazily. “But you’ve reminded me, dear Princess, of one, last thing I need to do before I take the throne. Something I’ve been wanting to do for a thousand years…”

Without warning, he raised his arm, then backhanded Luna across the face.

“No!” I shrieked.

Luna flew through the air, landed ten feet away, and rolled to a stop. I sprinted over to her and cradled her limp body in my arms.

“No,” I murmured, squeezing my eyes shut and pressing her to my chest. “No…”

She lay in my arms—so weak, so fragile, so deathly still—for a long moment. Then, slowly, she began to stir. My breath caught in my chest, and I opened my eyes—then very nearly dropped her. The mare I held in my arms had lost her beautiful navy-blue coat, and turned an awful shade of stone gray.

She opened her eyes and looked up at me, then twisted her face into a petulant grimace.

“I shan’t!” she cried. “I shan’t, and you can’t make me!”

Discord chuckled. “One of my favorite parts of the job, that,” he said. “Getting to see what the underside of someone’s soul looks like.”

I whipped my head around and glared at him. “Change her back,” I demanded.

“I would, pipsqueak,” he said, turning away, “but I have bigger fish to fry than you, now.”

Light shone from Discord’s claws, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I let Luna go, and she pushed away from me. I stood, turned to face Discord, and slowly walked backwards. Discord started to laugh—low in his throat at first, then building higher and higher, until I could hear his laughter echoing in my bones. The light grew so bright that I held my hoof up against it—grew so bright that I could see my bones of my arm through my flesh—

And then, the light went out.

I blinked stupidly in the sudden darkness. Before I could even register what had happened, a claw reached out and seized me around the throat. Discord hauled me up into the air, holding me snout-to-snout.

“What have you done with it?” he roared, spattering me with saliva, his eyes full of incoherent rage.

“I—I don’t—” I gasped.

Discord’s grip tightened, and I cried out.

“There’s a piece missing,” he snarled. “Where is it?”

My legs kicked feebly, and I pawed at his iron grip.

“I have waited ten thousand years for this,” he growled. “I have killed thousands. I will not be thwarted by a stupid little filly like you, not when I am so close at last.”

He squeezed tighter, and white-hot pain shot up my spine. I tried to scream, but no air came.

“Where is it?” he bellowed, shaking me like a rag doll. But blackness was already closing in. My eyes started to roll back into my head…

And suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, a flash of blue. Discord roared again—this time, in pain and surprise—then dropped me. I fell to the ground with a crash, and lay there, coughing.

When I finally raised my head, I stared.

“Soarin’?” I croaked, my voice hoarse.

Criterion: Significance

“This way!” I called. “Keep your head down!”

I half-stumbled, half-crawled my way along the wall. There was a small corridor of clear air here, but only just. Smoke, sweat, and ash stung my eyes, and my breathing came ragged. The choking black smoke hung inches above my head, and, the flames licked at broken chairs just to my right. The only sound was the roaring of the flames and the screaming of the changelings—

“Watch out!” cried Fluttershy from just behind me.

I looked up just in time to see a burning wooden beam falling towards me. It slammed to the floor in an explosion of sparks, and I stumbled backwards into the pony behind me. I snarled, lit my horn, and tossed the beam back into the blaze. I wiped the sweat off my forehead, and crawled forward again.

“There!” Fluttershy cried again.

And, at the same moment, I saw it: a shaft of pure, clean light, still bright through the smoke. The door! I licked my lips, then stumble-crawled towards it, hoping that the ponies behind me were keeping up.

I stumbled out into the open air. Instantly, a dozen hooves grabbed me and pulled me towards them. I looked up, and saw a whole crowd of ponies: medics ready with oxygen tanks and cold packs, firefighters hosing down the rug and the door, and a whole platoon of Royal Guards, spears at the ready, waiting for any changelings that might try to escape.

“No,” I said, struggling against the medics. “There’s more—”

And through the smoke and fire came a line of ponies: Fluttershy, who collapsed into a firepony’s arms as soon as she crossed the threshold. Applejack, one of her bandanas pulled over her face, supporting a barely-conscious Pinkie Pie. Rainbow, who had a few of her feathers singed off one wing. And Rarity and Blue, she covering her eyes and coughing, he shooting me an uneven grin as he passed, both of them stained black with soot. Behind them, a whole march of other prisoners, each ragged and coughing.

“I think that’s everyone,” I said to one of the soldiers. “Go ahead, and—”

But then, I heard a new sound from beyond the door—a hissing, a growling, an evil sound out of nightmares. I turned to look, then took a step forward, towards the sound—and, as I did, time seemed to stop.

I can still see it, sometimes, when I close my eyes: the inky black smoke billowing out of the hole in the door. The fireponies, their shiny red helmets and black coats, trying to keep the fire at bay with just their little back-mounted tanks of water. Blueblood, turning to me with a question on his lips. And, beyond them all, the curtain of fire that filled the hole in the massive double-doors.

As I turned to stare, the curtain of flames seemed to swell, then billowed outwards. Just as it seemed about to burst, it tore in two. The changeling queen, fangs bared and snarling, leapt towards me. Her wings and mane were burning, and deep slashes covered her face and throat, but her eyes were full of hatred and death.

I screamed.

* * *

They say that the queen was probably dead before she hit me. After all, the doctors weren’t even sure how she could walk with all those burns, let alone jump like she did. And, even if she was somehow still alive, she had impaled herself on my horn when she slammed into me, sealing the deal.

They also said that, despite appearances, we had never been alone. They said that the guards had been cooking up a plan to set fire to the throne room, almost since the changelings had taken it over, in an effort to smoke them out. That Blueblood, against direct orders, had gone to start the fire himself. That, without him, nearly everyone in that room, except myself, would have been counted an “Acceptable Casualty.” They said that, if he wasn’t already a prince, Blue would have been eligible for a medal of some sort from the Guard, but that they were currently trying to figure out a way to give him one anyways.

They also said, after the fact, that the wedding was wonderful. Rarity and Blue’s wedding clothes were ruined, as were most of the guests, so they decided to keep it casual. Everyone enjoyed themselves, the cake was delicious, and the two of them helped at least a few of the guests to get over the griefs of the day.

But I honestly couldn’t tell you if all that was true or not. The next two days were, for me, an endless nightmare of fire, and smoke, and claws, and the queen, endlessly leaping at me—

When I woke, I found they’d moved me to the Infirmary. I found that, without me around to help raise it, the sun was still coasting by on its natural momentum, though it had almost slowed to a stop despite Luna’s efforts. They told me that there was nothing wrong with me--not physically, anyways. Still, they’d had me talk to a psychologist: Dr. Winter Rose. She was already Luna’s shrink, which was probably against ethical codes somewhere, but I suppose she was still the logical choice; after all, she was already used to keeping Royal Secrets anyways.

Dr. Rose told me that it was too early to tell, but that I would almost certainly develop a condition called post-traumatic stress. She said there was a whole laundry list of official criteria for diagnosis, most of which wouldn’t manifest for weeks or months. But it was still a pretty good bet that I had it, given the way I’d reacted so far. It was normal in my situation, nothing to be ashamed of.

That might have been true—but she didn’t tell me it would come to define who I was for the rest of my life.

She was right, of course. But you probably figured that out already. Ever since the wedding, I’ve had nightmares about the queen, chasing me, laughing at me, lunging at me. I’ve seen lurking shadows in the corner of my vision, even when I was awake. And even thinking about the changelings is sometimes still enough to trigger a flashback. Dr. Rose gave me a few worksheets--and, I will admit they helped, at least a little--but I couldn’t bring myself to see her more than once or twice. I already felt like a failure, even without having to recite a play-by-play of everything I’d done wrong just for the benefit of some shrink.

The changeling queen died there that day, impaled on my horn. And yet, I couldn’t help thinking, with all the scars she’s left me, that, somehow, she had still won.

16: "Fight Club"

“I don’t want to die without any scars.”

Soarin’ stood on the bare dirt of the crater floor in his Wonderbolts flight suit, his chest heaving, his mane blowing in the wind. He turned and shot me a smile, and, in that moment, there wasn’t a handsomer stallion in all of Equestria.

Soarin’ held one wing straight down by his side, a line of blood trailing down the leading edge. I turned to look at Discord, and noticed, for the first time, a fresh wound—a clean slice across one of his shoulders. Discord seemed to notice at the same time I did; he snarled, then reached over and pressed one of his claws against it.

“Lieutenant Soaring Skies of the Wonderbolts,” he snarled. “Fancy seeing you, of all ponies here.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I shot a frightened glance at Soarin’; his determined scowl was starting to waver at the edges.

Discord bared his teeth in a wry grin, exposing his fangs. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be, Soarin’?” he asked. “Someone else to save? Someone else to protect? Some other way to be a hero that doesn’t require you to look Oblivion Himself in the teeth?”

There was no question now—the air shook with a weird, alien magic.

“Fly away, fly away, fly away home, little songbird,” Discord growled. “The grown-ups have some talking to do.”

And the magic surged forward, like waves in the ocean. I turned back to Soarin’ and gasped—white light was gathering around his hooves, and the whites of his eyes swirled with color—

“Soarin’!” I cried. “Don’t listen! Whatever he’s telling you, he’s lying!”

Soarin’ stiffened, then squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head fiercely. And suddenly, the magic broke and radiated away from him, dissipating like smoke on the wind. He looked up at Discord with a snarl on his face.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, only the slightest tremble in his voice. “I’ve been running all my life.” He turned and shot me a smile. “But now I have something to stay for.”

My heart leapt into my throat.

Discord’s wry smile fell. Slowly, he dropped his claw back to his side, then rose to his full, sinuous height.

“So be it,” he intoned. “Let it always be said that Soarin’ of the Wonderbolts went to his doom with his eyes open.”

“Oh, shut up,” Soarin’ snapped. He spread his wings, then shot towards Discord, an arc of crimson trailing behind him.

Discord snarled, then lunged at him. Soarin’ swerved to avoid him, then wheeled around for another pass. He shot towards Discord, wings extended, the wind whistling around him, but Discord twisted out of the way at the last second.

I smiled, then staggered to my hooves. Soarin’ wouldn’t last long, no matter how hard he tried. I needed to find the Sun Stone, at least—then, maybe we could escape, make a plan—

And there it was: in a little heap with the Elements, just where Discord had been standing a moment ago. Soarin’ had drawn Discord away from his prize, and he was too distracted trying to swat him out of the air to notice me. I grinned wider and dashed towards them—

But Luna beat me to them.

“No!” she cried. “They’re mine!”

She straddled the little pile and growled, like a dog guarding a bone. I skidded to a stop in front of her.

“Luna,” I gasped. “Give me the Sun Stone!”

She shook her head. “You just want to steal it from me!” she cried. “My mother willed the stones to me! Me! And I shan’t let any Princess steal them ever again!”

A shadow blotted out the sun, and I leapt backwards. Discord’s tail crashed down between the two of us, sending Luna flying backwards.

“Ladies,” Discord hissed in greeting—just before Soarin’ came screaming by again, this time, shaving off a chunk of Discord’s mane. He spat in fury, then charged after him, body weaving like a snake as he nearly trampled the Elements. I dashed forward--but, as I did, Discord’s hind hoof caught the Sun Stone, sending it flying through the air. I turned to chase after it—but a streak of rainbow light shot forward and snatched it.

“Got it!” cried Rainbow Dash, triumphantly.

My heart leapt in my throat, and I spun around. There, I saw a sight I hadn’t even hoped to see: Twilight and her four other friends, their colors restored, charging towards the field of battle. Close behind them galloped Blueblood—and, close behind him, Shining Armor and the Palace Guard. Despite myself, I let out a whoop of joy.

Behind me, I heard an evil growl. I turned and saw Discord, squatting on all fours, his eyes full of fire.

“Well,” he said, his voice icy-calm, “It appears your erstwhile friends have found a way back, too. Next time, I’ll just have to kill them outright—”

At that moment, Soarin’ shot past, and Discord roared in pain. He snarled, then reared on his hind legs.

“I don’t have time to deal with you gnats—!” he snarled.

Soarin’ wheeled around and flew back towards us. As he saw Discord, claws spread and ready for him, he flared his wings and came to a halt in midair. He hesitated, just an instant, his eyes invisible behind his flight goggles. But, just as I thought he was going to turn away, he adjusted his wings and dove.

As he zipped past, Discord caught him around the middle. Soarin’ tried to kick with his legs, but Discord held him away from his body. Instead, he snarled, then bit Discord, hard, on one of his fingers.

“That will be enough out of you,” Discord growled.

And, with the practiced ease of a lifelong predator, Discord spread his jaws wide, bit one of Soarin’s wings just above the joint, and tore.

“No!” I cried.

Discord spat a mouthful of scarlet-flecked feathers, then tossed Soarin’, almost casually, over his shoulder. Soarin’ flew through the air, ruby drops of blood trailing after him, and landed twenty or thirty feet away. He lay still, blood spurting from his side.

And then, without warning, Discord extended his claws, then dropped onto all fours. He landed with a mighty crash, his claws sinking deep into the soil, and something in my inner ear popped. I stumbled and fell. For just a moment, I lay there, stunned—but then, Discord started laughing.

The crash Discord had made echoed back off the walls of the crater, growing louder and louder, until it became a mighty rumble. The ground under me bucked and jumped, then split open. Great cracks raced across the floor of the crater, splitting the earth into little islands and plateaus. Some of them shot up in the air, some of them sank, and above it all, Discord laughed.

I struggled back to my hooves and shook my head to clear it. The ground still rumbled underneath me, but, for now at least, Discord and I were on the same plateau. Between us, in a scattered pile, lay the Elements. Blueblood, Twilight, and her Ponyville friends had been cut off from us by a chasm, but it Rarity, at least, was already getting ready to jump it. On another small island lay Rainbow Dash in a heap, where she had apparently crash-landed during the surge of magic. And there, by her side—my eyes widened—lay the Sun Stone, still glowing brightly.

I took a step towards her, but my breath caught in my throat. There, on the other side of Discord, lay Soarin’, deathly pale, teetering on the edge of a chasm. He still hadn’t moved, but the blood flowing from his stump had started to slow.

I whipped my gaze from Soarin’ to Rainbow, and back. Time seemed to slow to a crawl. And the cold, logical part of my brain spoke up:

Blueblood and the Royal Guards were moving into position, getting ready to distract Discord. That would give Twilight and her friends the time they needed to reach the Elements. But they wouldn’t function properly unless Rainbow got her Element, too, and she was still seeing stars—not to mention, she still had the Sun Stone, which might be enough to stop Discord all on its own. But Soarin’ was dying. I didn’t know if I could even save him, but if I didn’t at least try, he would bleed out before help could come.

I could save the world, or I could save Soarin’, but not both. I could help my friends stop Discord—but Soarin’ was all alone here, bleeding out under a schizophrenic sky.

Who needed me more: Equestria, or Soarin’?

And then, I made a decision.

“Soarin’!” I cried.

Time snapped back into motion, and I turned and galloped towards him.

Discord tried to snatch me, but I shot an arc of fire at him and ducked between his legs. He roared in pain and fury, then swiped at me with his tail, but I leapt over it. Soarin’ drew close, and I lunged towards him. I landed with a splat in the bloody mud, then wrapped my arms around him.

“Soarin’!” I cried again. “I’m here now, you’re gonna be okay.”

He groaned faintly and stirred, and my heart leapt.

“C’mon, Soarin’,” I said urgently. “Stay with me!”

But even as I said it, the earth around us began to crumble. The dirt under Soarin’ gave way, and I yelped as his weight pulled me forward, until I was staring straight down into the abyss.

“Soarin’—!”

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and I felt a deep thrumming sensation rumble through me. I looked over my shoulder, stared, then whooped aloud. Twilight stood, facing Discord, her Element of Magic glowing purple-red in her mouth. Behind her stood Rarity, Pinkie Pie, and Fluttershy, each holding their gems. A short distance away, Applejack supported a woozy Rainbow, her own Element in her mouth, and—my eyes widened—the Sun Stone under one arm.

“They’re doing it, Soarin’!” I cried. “They’re going to—”

But, as I spoke, I felt Soarin’ start to slip from my grasp. I lunged forward with what leverage I could, but I couldn’t get a good grip on his blood-slick uniform.

“Soarin’!” I growled through gritted teeth. “I—I can’t hold on—!”

Soarin’s head lolled back, his mouth hanging open horribly. His eyes fluttered open, and he looked at me weakly.

“See… see…” he moaned.

“Soarin’...” I repeated, fresh tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

Behind me, I heard an explosion and felt a blast of warmth, but I barely noticed. All I knew was that I was looking into Soarin’s eyes, for what might be the last time ever…

And then, another pair of arms reached down and grabbed him.

I looked up and gasped. Beside me in the dirt lay Blueblood. He lit his horn and grabbed Soarin’ around his middle, and the two of us hauled back, dragging Soarin’ back up towards the plateau. In the near distance, a few other Guards were making their way over the broken earth towards us.

“I got him,” Blue grunted. “Get going, they need you.”

I looked back over my shoulder, and my eyes widened. Twilight and her friends stood together in a ragged formation. Their stones shone bright, and, together, they formed a rainbow of light and magic that swirled around Discord like a storm. Discord himself writhed in pain, but it wasn’t enough: even I could tell that their magic was taking far too long, and Rainbow was already close to collapsing again.

Then, I saw it. At Applejack’s hooves lay the Sun Stone. I blinked, then dashed towards it. I didn’t deserve to hold the Stone, not anymore—but perhaps, I could help them, somehow…

As I ran across the plain, Discord turned his gaze to follow me. And, behind those eyes of his, an evil light sparked into being.

“Why are you helping her?” he hissed. The sound of his voice—deep, echoing, piercing, all at the same time—startled me so much I skidded to a stop and stared at him. “While you’re busy with me, Celestia is getting her Princesshood back. The same Celestia who abandoned you, who betrayed you, who sold you out. You’ll get your Equestria back—but so will she. She doesn’t deserve your help,” he spat, “so why are you giving it to her?”

Fresh tears sprung to my eyes, and my heart sank. For just a second, I thought I felt Discord’s faint touch on my mind again, but I couldn’t be sure…

And then, Twilight spoke.

“Yeah,” she growled through gritted teeth, “Cece’s a screw-up. But she came back.”

“Darn tootin’,” Applejack added.

“She came back,” Twilight repeated. “That’s what you don’t understand about Friendship, Discord—it’s not about being perfect. It’s about trying.”

Twilight roared in defiance, and her streak of light grew even brighter. I stared, entranced, for a moment.

“What are you doing?” cried Rainbow. “Get the Stone!”

I started, then turned and galloped back towards my target. I ducked under Applejack’s beam of light, then scooped up the Sun Stone—

And something very strange happened.

As I held the Stone in my hooves, I had the distinct impression that something inside it turned and looked at me. That, for just a moment, this chunk of rock recognized me—me, out of all the thousands that had ever held it.

But, before I could even think about what that might mean, I felt a familiar itching over my shoulderblades. Before I could do much more than bite my lip, the fleshy scars on my shoulders tore open, and brand-new, snow-white wings furled outwards. Tears rolled freely down my cheeks—half from pain, half from joy. I never knew how much I could miss them…

“Celestia…” groaned Rarity.

But there was time for reflection later. I held up the Sun Stone, and the old, familiar magic coursed through me, ran up to my horn and out to the tips of my beautiful wings—

What happened next, I still don’t remember, not exactly. Perhaps it was the stress, perhaps it had something to do with the sudden surge of magic, but it’s all a bit of a blur. I remember a beam of white shooting from the Stone, shooting straight through the colorful rainbow of magic, and into Discord’s twisting body. I remember the light burning away his fur, his skin, his viscera, his bones. I remember the sound of the God of Chaos howling in pain—a primal sound, an animal sound, the sort of noise that you hear in your bones and the rattling of your teeth.

And—weirdest of all—I seem to remember that we weren’t alone. I seem to remember there was another pony standing by my side, shooting a beam of light of her own—but that was impossible, wasn’t it…?

The next thing I remember clearly was me dropping to the ground, drained. I felt like I had just run a marathon—no, a triathalon. I ached all over. I was out of breath. And the Sun Stone underneath me still burned hot…

In the near distance, I heard some ragged cheers. I felt seven pairs of hooves wrap themselves around me, felt a pile of bodies on me, but already, I felt myself sinking into unconsciousness. Just before I fell away entirely, I opened one eye and looked where I had felt that strange pony standing—and, for just a moment, thought I saw four hoofprints in the dirt, smoking gently…

The King's Waking

The old changeling drone scuttled his way through the entry tunnel, then stood and dusted himself off. A small squad of three warriors eyed him carefully, though they did not challenge him. They could smell him, and that was all the identity they needed. Words could not describe his smell, for words were not designed to do so; suffice it to say, his pheromones marked him, beyond any doubt, as a brother of the Hive.

(Given that he was a drone, and an old one at that, he was undoubtedly father to many in the Hive—though this was a distinction that mattered only to the Horses. As far as the changelings were concerned, they had only one parent, and she had perished in the Burning of Canterlot.)

As they stared at each other, a little worker scuttled past them with a hoof-full of mud, and began to seal the opening. The motion seemed to shake the others from sleep; the guards looked around awkwardly, while the drone cleared his throat.

“How many returned?” he asked, in the changeling language of dance, and wing, and pheromone.

“Fifty or so,” the largest of the warriors replied.

This was a death-knell to the Hive, but her voice did not quaver.

“And how many workers remain?”

“More,” she replied. “Perhaps five hundred. Though we lose more every day without the Songs.” She hesitated. “Do you bear them? The Songs of the Ancestors?”

The old drone shook his head. “I bear some of the Brood-Songs,” he said. “Though, without a Queen to sing them to, they are worth little.”

The warrior bobbed her head, but said nothing.

Behind them, the worker finished sealing the entry-tunnel, plunging the room into night. The old drone turned and looked behind him questioningly at the fresh mud.

“We sing the War-Songs,” one of the guards volunteered. “They tell us to keep the entries sealed.” She paused. “With no Queen, it is all we can do.”

The old drone said nothing. He understood. When there is nothing else to do, you do what you know best. It wasn’t a bad decision, all things considered. The Burning had dealt them a blow—or, perhaps, they had dealt themselves a blow, in the end—and retreating to safety might save them. Though, without a Queen, it would avail them little…

“Has a Conclave been called yet?” he asked.

The warriors looked at each other. The Songs spoke of such a thing, of course, but it had never been done in their lifetime.

“Do it,” said the old drone.

And so, word spread that, for the first time in memory, the Hive was calling a Worker’s Conclave. The news travelled slower than the thunderclap that had been the Queen’s will, and not with the wildfire-strength that made all who heard it mad with passion. It travelled more like water, flowing from changeling to changeling, seeping into their hearts, slower, and yet, in its own way, undeniable.

And slowly, the workers, and the warriors, and the nursemaids, and the drones came out from hiding. They gathered to the largest space available to them in the Hive: a communal feeding-ground, deep in the earth. And there, they saw the old drone, standing on a great stone, waiting for them. They knew him, of course, by his smell. The pheromones marked him as a Hive-brother. But there were other scents, too—scents that were familiar, and yet, all too alien.

One of the warriors—a big female—shifted uneasily.

“You smell of Horses,” she hissed, her voice full of venom. “Why do you bear their scent?”

“I have lived among them since the Burning,” he said.

His words rippled through the changelings. As it passed, they flashed their wings at him in surprise and fear.

The same warrior spoke again. “That is not possible,” she hissed. “The Burning came sixty sunrises ago. No changeling can survive without Queen or Hive for so long!”

“And yet,” the old drone said, “I have.” He flashed his own wings in an expression of irritation. “I was there. I was not Burned, but I saw it. I saw the black and twisted hall that the Horses sacrificed to kill us. I saw them burn the Queen on a pyre built from our own bodies, and I saw how they scattered her ashes in the river. I saw—”

“You saw?” repeated the warrior. “And you did nothing?” She buzzed her wings angrily. “Perhaps you should be burned with the others, as a reward for your cowardice!”

More angry buzzes echoed around the hall. But the old drone did not move.

“I did do nothing,” he called. “But it was not cowardice. It was survival. The Horses were clever, and had luck on their side. If I had stayed, I would have done nothing except die with them. Now, I have returned, bearing my fragments of the Songs for the good of the Hive.”

The buzzing began to fade, but the warrior still was not satisfied. “How did you survive the Burning, then? And why did you linger so long among the Horses?”

“I smelled smoke and fire on the wind,” he said. “No flames had yet been set, but I guessed that a great evil was coming to visit the changelings. So I tricked one of the Horse-guards. I killed him and took his shape. They did not find his body because I did not keep it: I threw it into the river, and it washed out to sea. And so, I became yet another Horse-guard—invisible, even in broad daylight.” He shot a dirty look at the warrior. “I did not participate in the Burning,” he said. “Other Horse-guards did, but I found cause to be elsewhere. But even so, I did what changelings always do: I hid among the Horses until the danger had well and truly passed. And, at the first time I could do so without arousing suspicion, I fled.”

He watched the warrior. She buzzed her wings once, then stood motionless. She had submitted.

All this time, more of the workers and warriors throughout the Hive were still finding their way into the chamber. And then, as a last few trickled in, the balance suddenly shifted. Something rippled through the assembled host. They were now a quorum. There were enough of them now to force their will upon the Hive, upon the Queen herself if she still lived. Somehow, they all sensed it, in a way that left no room for such mundane concepts as mere numbers.

The old drone spoke first.

“The Queen is dead,” he called.

Buzzing swept the hall. They all felt it—and yet, to hear him say it made it undeniable.

The drone waited a moment, then spoke again.

“The Queen is dead,” he repeated. “And we must have a Queen. It is up to this Conclave to raise one up.”

The buzzing came again—this time, laced with fear and astonishment.

“The Songs speak of it!” the old drone called over the sudden din. “The Father-Songs make mention of it. A female larva, newly-hatched, must be bathed and fed with special secretions made by her caretakers.” He looked around. “Nursemaids! Are there any such larvae?”

“Many,” came the reply. “And a few eggs left, yet. But we know not the Songs—”

“Nor I,” he said, “Not entirely. But I know a few of the words. And we can hear some of the notes in other Songs.” He looked around. “And the walls of the Hive itself must still contain echoes of our ancient hymns.”

“And if those echoes are not enough?” came the challenge.

“There must be,” he replied. “The alternative is death.”

This time, the buzzing was grim.

“Here is what we shall do, then” the old drone said. “We shall take a dozen larvae, and attempt to make each of them a Queen. If our Songs are insufficient, perhaps we shall make one Queen out of the lot. And, if there are more—” he shrugged, an extremely Horse-like gesture. “We choose the strongest among them, and drive the rest out.”

If there were objections, they were not heard over the buzzes of assent. The changelings were not like the Horses. They did not allow compassion to keep them from what must be done. And all knew the disaster that would befall a two-Queened Hive.

But the buzzing, this time, was not unanimous. A discordant note sounded from the back of the hall.

“Yes,” called one of the warriors, “but what then? The Queen bore other Songs, Songs that none other knew, Songs that perished in the Burning. How shall we recover them?”

The old drone thought a moment. “We shall compose Songs of our own,” he said.

At his words, many of the workers cried aloud in fear and horror. For the first time, the old drone bristled.

“The Horses do it,” he snarled. “Why not us?”

“You would have us become like the Horses?” someone called back.

“Yes!” he roared back. And this time, his voice was loud enough to silence the crowd.

The old drone started to pace. “I have lived among them for fifty sunrises. Yes, they are foolish. Yes, they are weak. Yes, they are almost below our notice. But they are something we are not: they are resilient. They killed our Queen, yes—but, as she died, she laid theirs low! And, a dozen sunrises ago, their Queen was laid low again, by an ancient enemy returned! And yet, why are we are the ones who huddle here in the dark, while they thrive?”

“Because they are prey, whose numbers must grow great enough to sustain us?”

“Because they are not warriors,” he snapped.

The buzzing fell silent. The old drone began to pace again.

“We waste our strength waging war,” he said. “We must eat. And to eat, we must hunt, and fight, and kill. The Horses are the most convenient source of food. But they are also the most dangerous. How many hunters do we send forth that do not return? How many warriors do we send out that come back broken? What does it do to the Hive to have so many strong and young ones struck down before our eyes?”

He stopped his pacing and looked up. “I have seen a better way,” he said. “The Horses do not war. They share their strength. They do not cast out the weak and the injured, but nurse them back to health. And together, they grow strong.” He looked out at the crowd. “Their Queen? The one who has been struck down twice? There was no war for power after she fell. She is back again, and with greater strength. She guides her Hive with a will stronger than before. She gathers allies, and makes amends with those she had lost. And they are stronger for it.” He hesitated. “We are the predators. We capture and slay them. But they are stronger than us now, and always will be, unless we change the Songs we sing.” He swallowed. “But this is the rambling of one old drone, his mind poisoned by time among the Horses. What says the Conclave?”

For a long moment, there was silence. Then, a single voice called out, a voice that rang out loud and clear over the crowd:

“What name do you bear?” came the question.

The old drone stared. The question was a challenge. Only Queens took a name—and only those greatest or most ambitious among them, at that. To take a name was to take a quest, to state one’s determination to do something great, something worth remembering. To live up to a name would secure its owner a place in the Songs… but to take a name and fail was to declare oneself an imbecile and a fool. To reach for the heights of arrogance, but to fail at even that task.

The old drone thought for a moment. When he spoke, his words came slowly, powerfully, resonating through the hall and into the hearts of every changeling present.

“I shall be… Thorax,” he said.

For a moment, the hall stayed deathly quiet. Then, slowly, it began to fill with the buzzing of wings—this time, a warm sound, a welcoming sound, of surprise and reverence and awe.

Thorax. The center of the body. Site of the heart and lungs. Anchor-point for head, for legs, for wings. This was not a name for war, or a name for arrogance, but a name of hope and healing. A name that, perhaps, would help the changelings regain their glory. A name that truly was worthy.

Thorax allowed himself a smile. They had listened. The changelings might yet survive. Perhaps the name Thorax would come to be woven into the songs after he passed as the name of the hero who had saved the Hive from extinction. The name that had set them on the path towards strength—not strength of the hunter, as the Queen had, but real strength, the kind that would ensure that no changeling would ever go hungry again. Perhaps, someday, they would find a way to no longer be enemies of the Horses, but to learn from them—and, perhaps, in his wildest dreams, to live alongside them as equals, basking in the light of the sun and the warmth of friendship alongside them.

Perhaps someday. Only time would tell—but for now, it would not do to dwell on things that might be.

For now, there was work to be done.

Author's Note

Just to be clear: in this story, the Changeling hive works more-or-less like a beehive. In particular, a normal larvae can be elevated to Queen-dom by feeding and bathing her in Royal Jelly, which is full of special hormones and nutrients and is secreted by workers. Also, every-'ling, except for the drones, is female, though only a Queen is able to reproduce.

17: March No. 1 in D, "Pomp and Circumstance"

“Morning, Chef,” I said brightly.

“Your Highness,” Chef Julienne replied, surprised.

I stuck my tongue between my teeth, then quickly poured out a dozen pancakes’ worth of batter on the grill. A few were a little lopsided, but that was okay. It gave them all a little character.

Chef nodded appreciatively. “If you weren’t Princess,” she said, “I’d offer you a job here in the kitchens.” She hesitated. “That is, except for…”

I picked up the paper cup next to the griddle, then shook it, letting the liquid inside slosh around. “There’s a lid on it this ti-i-ime,” I said in a sing-song. “Besides,” I added, taking a sip. “Doctor’s orders…”

“Do you still need all those peanut-butter milkshakes? Really?”

“Have you ever regrown a full pair of wings in sixty seconds?” I asked. “I need all the protein and calcium I can get. Build my stores back up.”

“Yes,” she said patiently, “but you needed it two weeks ago.”

“Enh,” I said with a shrug. “Free milkshakes.”

I scooped up some more batter, then quickly added ears to the pancakes. With a free hoof, I pulled a tray towards me. Balanced on top were a dozen little cups of sliced fruit, and, to one side, a list written in careful, precise hoofwriting.

“Lesse…” I muttered, consulting the list. “Apples for AJ, of course… strawberries and whipped cream for Flutters…”

“Your Highness,” Chef said gently, “if you need some help with those, all you need to do is ask. After all, your friends are here for an official Palace function...”

“Thanks,” I said, as I laid out the fruit, “but this is something I need to do on my own. Want to do,” I corrected myself.

I looked back at the pancakes, then grimaced. While Chef had been talking, I had accidentally messed up the pancakes: Fluttershy’s strawberries had dripped all over Applejack’s apple grin. And Applejack hated strawberries.

I eyed it for a moment, then shrugged. Without another word, I scooped the ruined pancake up and tossed it in the trash, then poured out a new one. Because, after all, it was like Twilight said—friendship isn’t about being perfect. It’s about trying, and getting better.

I smiled to myself as I turned back to my list.

* * *

“We are gathered here today, dearly beloved…” I said into the mirror.

“‘To once again,’ “ Raven prompted. “No ‘dearly beloved’”

“We are gathered here today,” I quickly repeated, “to once again—Ow!” I yelped. I eyed my hairdresser in the mirror. “Can you please wait to brush out the knots until after I’m done rehearsing?” I asked.

“Can you wait to rehearse until after I’m done brushing?” Barbasol grumbled.

“It’s a big day, hon,” Emery said to him as she polished my hooves. “Go easy on her.”

“From the top, Your Highness?” Raven asked.

I swallowed. “We are gathered here to once again honor the heroism—”’

The door creaked open. “Your Highness?”

Raven sighed dramatically. “Yes, Captain Armor?” she snapped.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” he said, “but I need a word with the Princess…”

“It’s okay, Raven,” I said, glancing at her in the mirror. “What is it, Shiny?” I asked.

Shiny looked at me in the mirror, then suppressed a smirk as Barbasol started to curl my mane. I shot a smirk back at him, and he nodded.

“I’ve just got word the Guard has tracked down another one of those chaos bunnies,” he said. “Ordinarily, we’d send them to Fluttershy, but, y’know…” he quirked another smile. “She’s out of the office today.”

I waved a hoof dismissively, earning a yelp from Emery and another growl from Barbasol. “Send it to the Royal Menagerie,” I said. “The warden should know what to do, more-or-less, at least until Flutters is free.”

He bowed his head. “Of course, Your Highness.” He hesitated. “Also…”

I looked at him again. “Something else?”

He nodded. “What should I do with all the ponies waiting in the hall…?”

I rolled my eyes. Probably all the bureaucrats who couldn’t last fifteen minutes without me telling them what to do… I couldn’t get a minute to myself, could I…?

But then again… I wasn’t alone anymore.

I stretched leisurely, eliciting a fresh grumble from Barbasol.

“Is Blueblood around?” I asked.

“No, Your Highness,” Shiny said. “He’s busy getting ready, too.”

“Well then,” I said, “Send ‘em back to my office. Have Inkblot or Paperclip take care of them--or at least take a message. And, the new intern, what’s her name…?”

“Pencil Pusher.”

“Yeah, Penny,” I said. “See if there’s anything she can take care of.” I smiled. “If they’re going to stick around long-term, they’re going to need to learn the ropes a bit.

Shiny bowed. “Of course, Your Highness.”

As he backed out, I smiled to myself. Sometimes, this whole Princess gig wasn’t too bad after all.

* * *

“Twilight!” I called.

I chased after her, but nearly stumbled on my dress. Rarity had made it special for the award ceremony, all white and gold and gauzy, and I looked gorgeous in it. Problem is, it wasn’t exactly made for running.

But still, Twilight heard my call. She stopped walking, then turned around and smiled. The sunlight streaming through the Palace windows glinted off her shiny new glasses, and made the medal around her neck glow: the Order of Lancers, awarded for special services in the defense of Equestria. She, too, wore a dress, though much simpler than mine. But with that medal of hers, she didn’t exactly need to do much to stand out.

“Twilight,” I repeated, breathlessly, as I caught up to her.

“Cece,” she said simply.

I took several more gulping breaths, then smiled down at her. “I’m so sorry we haven’t talked,” I said. “I’ve been trying to find the time, but—”

“I know,” she said, adjusting her glasses. “Equestria needs you more than I do.”

I smirked. “A little,” I admitted, “though I’d much rather it didn’t.”

Twilight chuckled, and my smiled widened.

“What do you have going on tonight?” I asked. “Wanna do dinner? Catch up a little?”

Twilight grimaced. “I can’t,” she said. “We already have reservations. I’d invite you, but I think Mom and Dad and Shiny want some familytime.”

I nodded. “What about lunchtime tomorrow?”

Twilight looked down at her hooves. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “Plans.”

“Oh?” I asked.

Twilight shot a furtive glance down the corridor, then blushed. I followed her gaze and saw, a little ways away, Fancy Pants and Fleur Dis Lee chatting to another pony in a tux; peeking out from behind them stood their son Arc, watching the two of us. I raised an eyebrow, and he looked hurriedly away.

“Oh,” I said. I looked away and gave Twilight a moment to compose herself. And yet, I felt a little grin creep across my face.

“Well,” I said, still looking away, “I can take a raincheck. As long as I can cash it in soon. I…” I swallowed. “I miss you, Twi. I really do.”

Out of the corner of my eye, Twilight nodded. “Me too, Cease.”

I turned back to her, my grin widening. She hadn’t called me “Cease” in a long time. It felt… good. Better than I would have thought possible.

Twilight looked up at me and caught sight of my smile. She broke into a grin, too, then reared up and wrapped her arms around my neck. I stood there, stunned, for a split second, then wrapped my arms around her in return.

“I’m sorry I’m such an awful friend,” I murmured.

“No,” she said.

“Yes, I am,” I insisted. “You deserve someone better. One who respects you, one who listens to you…”

“Cece,” Twilight said sharply, pulling away from me. She held me at arms’ length and stared at me over the top of her glasses. “If anyone deserves a better friend, it’s you.”

I started to shake my head, but Twilight interrupted. “I’m serious,” she said. “You know me—I don’t like arguments. If I know bringing up something is going to start trouble, I’d rather just leave it alone. That works fine, most of the time—but not when it’s with my best friend.”

My ears perked up. Twilight, however, looked down and sighed.

“Yeah, you hurt my feelings,” she said. “Pretty badly, actually. But it still wasn’t fair of me to cut you off like I did—not to mention, me telling them to hold the Wedding with you still out of comission.”

“Yeah,” I admitted, “that was kind of a dick move.”

Twilight sighed, then nodded. “Yeah, it was,” she said. “And I’m sorry. But if you’ll let me, I’ll try and make it up to you. After all,” she said, with a little smile, “if we can’t let each other make mistakes, then how will we ever learn?”

“Aw, stop it,” I said, wiping at the tears in my eyes.

“No, really. It’s like I told that monster,” she said, spitting the words. “You made mistakes—big ones—but you came back. And that’s what matters, in the end: not that we do perfectly, but that we keep trying. So I’ll make that promise to you,” she added. “If you let me keep trying, then I’ll do the same for you. Okay?”

I wanted to respond, but I suddenly realized I couldn’t speak. Instead, I just closed my eyes, letting my tears run freely down my cheeks, then pulled Twilight in for a bear hug. Twi made a strangled little noise, then hugged me back and rested her head on my shoulder.

We held each other like that for a while—I don’t know how long, and I didn’t exactly care either way. I probably would have just held her like that forever…

That is, if somepony hadn’t cleared their throat behind us.

I opened my eyes and looked up, and my face broke into a wide grin. Twilight’s friends stood, each of them with their medals, watching us. Fluttershy had tears in her eyes too, Pinkie Pie grinned like an idiot, and even Rainbow managed a satisfied little shake of her head. Rarity smirked at me, and I shot her an ugly look, which she responded to with a generous eye-roll.

I carefully set Twilight down, then nervously smoothed my dress. “Well,” I said, “that ceremony was something, wasn’t it, girls?”

“You betcha!” Pinkie cried. “Now we’re official Knights of the Realm!” She stood up on her hind legs and made a few, playful thrusts at Fluttershy with a pretend sword, who shrank away.

“Not exactly,” interjected Twilight. “The Lancers weren’t—”

“Oh, can it, you egghead,” said Rainbow with a smile. “Just let us enjoy ourselves for once, will ya?”

Twilight stood there with her mouth open, flustered, as her glasses slid down her nose. I just shook my head and laughed. And, maybe as a sign of what we’d been through together—perhaps something deeper—everyone laughed along. Even Twilight, who broke into a warm, genuine smile, and managed a chuckle or two as she straightened her glasses.

As the laughter died down, I shook my head, then smoothed out my dress again. As it rustled under my hooves, I suddenly whipped my gaze back up.

“Oh, Rarity!” I cried, reaching out. “I’ve been wanting to tell you! This dress is amazing!” I wrapped my arms around her, picked her up, and squeezed tight. “You’re the best—”

“Watch the baby!” Rarity shrieked.

Her outburst caught me so off-guard that I dropped her back onto her hooves. She stumbled a little, but remained standing. She looked around sheepishly, then gave an uneasy little sigh.

“W-what did you say?” asked Twilight.

Rarity smiled weakly, but said nothing.

“If I may,” said Blueblood, squeezing his way through the ponies, a small medal of his own around his neck. “I have something to tell you, Cece. Two somethings, in fact.” He walked up beside Rarity and squeezed her fondly around the shoulders. “Cece,” he said, “you’re going to be an aunt.”

It took several seconds for us to process what he had said. The first of us to get it was Pinkie, who let out an earsplitting shriek of her own.

“A foal?!?” she practically howled. “You and Blueblood are having a fo—?!”

Rainbow clamped her hoof over her mouth—which only partially cut off her screaming—then turned to Rarity.

“Nice,” she said, with a lecherous grin.

At that, the floodgates opened. Everyone rushed forward and clustered around Rarity, everyone talking at once. Rarity, for her part, just held her head high and smiled, a warm, almost-matronly smile that, somehow, looked entirely at home on that face of hers.

I stepped up beside Blueblood, who had taken a step back, away from the chaos.

“Two things?” I asked him. “Twins?”

Blueblood’s eyes widened, and a faint look of panic crossed his face. “Oh, Harmony, I hope not,” he said. “No, I had something else. Here.”

He slipped me a folded note. I opened it and scanned it quickly, my eyes growing wider with every word. I wadded it up quickly, then leaned over and kissed Blueblood on the cheek.

“Thanks,” I said. “Gotta go. Give Rares and Twi my love.”

“Geez,” he muttered. “That important?”

“Hopefully,” I said, as I hurried away.

* * *

I found Soarin’ on one of the balconies overlooking Canterlot. He was sitting on a bench, a cushion underneath him, admiring the landscape. I stood in the doorway for a second and watched it too; say what you would about dear old Princess Helia, but she sure knew how to pick out a good view.

Canterlot stretched out below us, looking for all the world like a picture-postcard. Beyond it stretched the Canter Valley, with the River Kelpie cutting its winding way smoothly down the middle. Beyond, you could just barely make out Ponyville, and the Everfree Forest next to it; if you squinted, you might even be able to see something that looked like Cloudsdale in the far distance.

But Soarin’ wasn’t looking at Cloudsdale. He was focused on something a little closer to home. I followed his gaze, and my heart sank. Soarin’ was watching two little pegasus foals chasing each other through the air, making curlicues and loop-de-loops, shouting aloud for the sheer joy of living.

Involuntarily, I glanced down at Soarin’s back. He wore a blue bathrobe, with cutouts for his wings. His right wing was just fine, if a little unkempt, but nothing remained of his left except a bandaged stump. I swallowed hard, then took a step forward.

Soarin’ didn’t notice me until I walked up beside him. As soon as he saw me, his face broke into a wide grin.

“Your Highness!” he said. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

I tried not to notice the dark circles under his eyes, and the fresh lines around his face that seemed to have appeared practically overnight. Instead, I sat down on his left side.

“Of course I would,” I said. “I just didn’t think you’d be strong enough to get out of bed for another week or so.”

He shrugged—a gesture that seemed to take far too much effort. “That’s what they said,” he replied. “But I always bounce back pretty quick.”

I nodded. “That’s good to hear,” I said.

We looked at each other awkwardly for a moment, then I turned and looked out at the view again. We were quiet for a while, before I shifted uncomfortably.

“I’m not sure I’ve properly thanked you,” I said. “That was very brave, what you did—attacking Discord, like that.”

“Aw, it’s nothing,” he said. He waved dismissively—or, at least, he tried to. The gesture must have tweaked a muscle in his injured shoulder, because he grimaced and put his hoof back down. He had to take a couple painful breaths before he could speak again.

“Besides,” he continued, as if nothing had happened, “When I joined the ‘Bolts, I swore an oath to protect anyone who needed protecting. And, if I may say so,” he said, with a roguish grin, “it sure looked like you needed some.”

I smiled weakly. For just a moment, an image flashed to my mind: Soarin’, hesitating, about to dive towards Discord for the final, fateful time. What was behind those goggles of his? Determination? Resignation? Fear?

I shook my head to dispel the image, then turned back to him. “Still,” I said, “you gave up a great deal to save me.” More than I deserve, I almost added.

“Well…” he said nervously, “you’re the Princess. Who else was going to raise the sun, if not you?”

I eyed him critically, and he looked away.

“And…” he added, “I would have missed you.”

I smiled a little wider. “Oh, really?” I asked.

“...yeah,” he admitted. He looked down at his hooves, his cheeks reddening. “I… I like you, Celestia. Like, a lot,” he added quickly.

His words came out a lot more childish than he meant it, I’m sure—and yet, it still made me smile. I moved a little closer to him, then scooted one of my forehooves until it bumped against his.

“I like you, too,” I said.

He looked up at me, surprised, then quickly looked back down. “I don’t know why,” he said. “I haven’t been a very good boyfriend—Tartarus, not even a very good date.”

I looked over at him, and saw, to my surprise, that tears glistened in the corners of his eyes.

“I’ve been… distracted,” he said. “Whenever we’re together, I find myself looking for something bigger, something better, something more exciting.” He smirked a little. “Comes with being a thrillseeker, I suppose.” He looked up at me, then reached over and took my hoof in both of his. “But I promise I will never take you for granted again, Celestia. You don’t deserve it. You’re too special to me.”

After a split-second, he looked down at my hoof, still in his. His eyes widened, and he dropped it, then shrank away from me the slightest bit.

“If you give me another chance, anyways,” he said miserably.

I watched him for a moment, and, slowly, a smile spread across my face.

“I’d like that,” I said.

Soarin’ looked back up at me, astonished, and I giggled a little. He smiled, then turned back to look out at the view again. After a moment, I joined him.

“So what are you going to do now?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I dunno,” he said. “Spitfire’s already offered me a desk job with the Wonderbolts, but I don’t want to spend all my time cooped up in an office…” He smirked. “D’you think the Royal Guard would have me?”

“My dad was in the Guard,” I replied.

“Really?” he said with a smirk. “Does your family have a history of picking their husbands from the Guard, then?”

I looked over at him. “Would you like that?” I asked.

The question brought him up short. He opened and closed his mouth once or twice, then turned and looked out at the horizon again. We both watched the view for a while in silence.

After a long time, I scooted a little closer to him. “You know,” I said, “usually, there’s a lot of paperwork involved in courting a Princess.”

Soarin’ looked up at me in surprise. “Really?” he asked.

I nodded. “Mh-hm. There’s a whole application. Psych evaluation, genetic testing, the whole nine yards.”

Soarin’ nodded slowly. And suddenly, his face lit up with recognition, followed immediately by a wave of fear. Courting, I had said. Most ponies thought it was the same as dating, but, when a Royal was involved, courting meant you were serious. Like, clear your calendar serious.

I chuckled a little, then draped one wing over his shoulders. “Good thing for both of us, then,” I said, “that I’ve never really been one for paperwork.”

I looked down at Soarin’, and saw him staring back up at me, his eyes wide and glistening. I smiled, then leaned down and kissed him on the lips. Soarin’ leaned up, wrapped his arms around my neck, and kissed me right back.

Author's Note

Come back tomorrow for the epilogue to this crazy journey!

Epilogue: Clair de Lune

I screamed, and I ran.

They were right behind me. I heard the buzzing of their wings, felt their hot breath on my heels. I turned to glance back over my shoulder, but I tripped on the uneven floor—tripped, fell, and tumbled. I looked up from where I lay and saw before me a wall of fire, and the wall tore, and through the tear leapt the queen, mouth open, fangs bared, rushing straight towards me—

And then, a ray of silver light hit her square in the chest, and she shattered like glass.

I yelped and covered my head. After a moment, I peeked between my arms and stared. A mare stood between me and the flames, her horn burning bright, a silver-white shield between us and the flames. No, not a shield, not really—in its light, the fire was shrinking, dissolving, burning away.

Suddenly, I realized where we were. We were in my bedroom, and the fire now sat, crackling to itself, in my fireplace.

I clambered unsteadily to my feet, and carefully examined the newcomer. She was tall, very tall, but young. No, not young exactly—she had some faint wrinkles around the corners of her mouth and under her eyes—but she had a subtle sort of strength about her. Her coat was a dark, navy blue, and her mane cascaded down her shoulders in a wavy, ice-blue sheet. She wore a loose robe and a cloak, the latter of which seemed almost to flow on its own, without a breeze. I cocked my head. There was something familiar about her, something I couldn’t put my hoof on…

Whoever she was, she ignored me for another few seconds, scanning my bedroom for any further interlopers. Then, finally, she turned to me, and spoke for the first time.

“Are you alright, Celestia?” she asked.

I blinked. “Luna?” I gasped.

Luna—there was no mistaking that voice, even if it was forty years younger than I’d ever heard it—turned away, blushing slightly. “I apologize, Your Highness,” she said. “I generally have the policy of avoiding the dreams of friends and family. One can discover some…” she gestured vaguely “...unfortunate truths in the dream-world. However, it has been apparent for some time that you have not been sleeping well, so I thought I would make an exception.”

I blinked again. “So… I’m dreaming,” I said.

“We are dreaming, more properly,” she replied. “My psyche and yours share the same dream-space, at least for now.”

“Have you always been able to do this?” I asked.

She nodded, and smiled a little. “It was part of my role as Princess when I was younger, if you believe it,” she said. “It was my duty to ensure that ponies slept free of nightmares, whenever possible. However…” she rolled her shoulders a little. “...it is rather taxing, so I find myself unable to perform like I once did.”

“How… nice,” I said, uncertainly.

“Indeed,” she said. “Shall we take a walk?”

And suddenly, there we were, walking down the Memorial Hall. Silver moonlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, projecting images of my ancestors on the floor.

“I have not properly thanked you yet,” Luna said.

I looked up at her. “For what?” I asked.

She closed her eyes and sighed. “For saving me from Discord for a second time,” she admitted. “And for helping free me from… whatever it was I became.”

I shook my head. “You can’t thank me for that,” I said. “Twilight and her friends had already defeated Discord by the time I got there. Yeah, I was the one who took him out, but they were holding him down for me...”

“Twilight sees it differently,” Luna said. “She says that it was you who gave them courage to try. That without you, we would not be having this conversation.”

“Maybe,” I admitted.

“And I know for a fact that it was you and Twilight who broke Discord’s influence over me.” She hesitated, then shot me a glance. “On that note… what, exactly did you do? I have heard conflicting stories…”

I chuckled. “I know for sure who’s responsible for that,” I said.

“Really?” she asked. “Who?”

I smirked. “Pinkie Pie, if you believe it.”

Luna gave me a disbelieving look, and I chuckled again. “She always said that True Love would save the day,” I explained. “And she was right—more right than she knew.” I looked up at Luna. “See, Pinkie said it so often that it was the first thing that came to mind when Blueblood asked me how to save Rarity. And Blueblood, silly as it sounded, tried it—tried to save her with True Love.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And did it work?” she asked.

I shook my head. “Sorta—but not like it did in the fairy tales. See, Discord couldn’t take away anything from us, not really. And he couldn’t just change our personalities. What he did instead was to change who we thought we were. When Blueblood reminded Rarity of how much they cared for each other, that gave her the power to break through Discord’s deceptions, and to realize who she truly was. The two of them together helped each of the others, which meant they got lots of practice—so, when it was time to help you out, they were able to tell Twilight and I exactly what to do.”

Luna raised her other eyebrow. “And what did you do?” she asked. I looked at her oddly, and she looked away. “I do not recall, myself,” she admitted, “and I would very much like to know.”

I sighed. “Well… Twilight used her magic to remind you of the time you spent with her in Ponyville. How much you learned, how much you grew, and all the friends you made along the way. And I—” I swallowed. “I reminded you how much you meant to me—and how much I mean to you.”

“Ah,” she said.

We were quiet for a long, long time. As we walked, I looked out the windows at the night sky beyond.

If this is my dream, I thought to myself, then what shape do the stars take…?

“Praytell,” Luna said suddenly, “How did you break free from Discord?”

I froze in shock, then shook my head violently. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Please,” Luna said. “Nothing I see or hear in these dreams leaves my lips. And this is the one piece of the puzzle remaining for me.”

I looked up at her, then looked away.

“Twilight, she…” I said, in a very small voice, “she… she said some mean things. No—” I shook my head again. “Mean—but fair. Things I’d been needing to hear. About how terrible of a friend I was.”

“And did you deserve it?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said immediately. “No. Aargh, I don’t know.”

“I think you do,” Luna said, gently. “You have had the time to figure out the pattern with the others. How do you fit into it?”

I bit my lip, then took a deep breath.

“I… I thought…” I began. “I thought that, if I wasn’t Princess, everything would be better. That, if I wasn’t so terrible at my job, that things wouldn’t be so difficult for Equestria. And that, without my duties keeping me away, Twilight and I could be friends again, like we used to be. Those were the lies that Discord preyed on when he—when he turned me.”

Luna nodded, but said nothing.

“Twilight, she—she was harsh. Said some things that were downright cruel. Things that I probably didn’t deserve, but things I needed to hear.” I looked up at Luna. “She broke through Discord’s lies, but in a different way. Instead of helping me see who I was, she forced me to see who I wasn’t. And that was enough to help me to break Discord’s control. At least, I think that’s what happened,” I added, lamely.

Luna nodded again. “That seems reasonable,” she said. “Difficult, but reasonable nonetheless.” She stopped walking, then reached out and pulled me in for a hug. I hugged her back and buried my face in her mane.

“Thank you for telling me this, Celestia,” she said. “And, I believe you’re right. Yes, Twilight was a little harsh—she has told me so herself—but I am glad that you were able to help each other, in the end.”

I squeezed her tight, and she started to stroke my back. It was strange; this was clearly a dream, and yet, her touch somehow made me feel better…

And then, I remembered something. I frowned, then looked up at her.

“Celestia?” Luna asked, concerned. “What is it?”

“Discord,” I said.

Luna looked at me, her eyes wide. “What has happened?” she asked. “Has he returned?”

I shook my head. “No, no—I mean…” I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, then began again.

“Discord,” I said. “After he… turned you, he tried to fuse the Sun and Moon Stones together with the Elements of Harmony. Said he was going to create the Cosmic Stone again. But it didn’t work—something went wrong.”

Luna nodded slowly. “You told me this once already,” she said.

“Yes, but—” I swallowed. “He said it didn’t work because… because there was a piece missing.”

Luna frowned. “A piece missing?” she asked. “What do you mean, a piece missing?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know,” I said. “I was hoping you knew.”

She shook her head. “Not at all,” she said. “To my knowledge, we have all the magical stones there ever were in our possession—and I would say I know best, since I was there when they were made.”

“What do you think he meant, then?”

Luna turned and looked out at the moon. It reflected, like a great silver coin, in her eyes.

“That means,” she said slowly, almost trancelike, “that there may yet be another voice to add to the cadence...”

I swallowed nervously.

After a moment, Luna looked back at me, then smiled.

“In any case,” she said, “such questions can wait for the morning. For now, I think it is time for you to rest.”

“But I am,” I protested.

She smiled. “A deeper rest than this, I mean,” she clarified.

Luna lit her horn. Around us, the Memorial Hall began to dissolve.

“Good night, Celestia,” she murmured. “I will see you in the morning.”

“Good night, Auntie,” I replied.

And, for the first time since the Wedding, I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

To Be Continued...

Exclusive Interview: Princess Celestia Tells All!

Read On For Exclusive Insights Into Her Friends, Her Job, and Her Love Life!

By Nosy Nag

Our beloved Princess of the Sun needs no introduction, of course—and yet, the sassy young mare who I sat down with had a lot of surprises to share with you, the loyal readers of Ponies Magazine! Read on as Celestia shares secrets about herself, her friends, and (gasp!) the identity of a certain special somepony we’ve all been hearing rumors about!

Celestia XVII, Equestria’s Sixty-Third Princess of the Sun, has accomplished a great deal in her short reign. It all began when she was only twelve, when her mother, our last Princess, lost her battle with a lifelong illness. As is tradition, little Cece put on the Peytral Aurum, the badge of her office, the same day her mother passed away. She already had a horn of her own, but the Peytral gave her wings, making her a true Princess. But, despite her new wings, there was definitely turbulence in store for our little Cece!

Which is why it meant to much to Celestia to have a second family waiting in the (figurative!) wings. She and her older brother, Prince Blueblood, were taken in by Twilight Velvet, one of their mother’s old school friends. Mrs. Velvet and her husband raised the two of them alongside their own children, the younger of whom, Twilight Sparkle, two years Cece’s junior, already happened to be her best friend! Though Celestia missed her mother terribly, Twilight and her family offered her a wonderful, safe, and loving environment to grow up in—which, with all the chaos, is exactly what she needed.

For the first several years of her reign, Celestia had to work hard to figure out what it took to be a Princess. There were lots of little hiccups along the way, of course, but her first big trial came three years ago, shortly after she turned seventeen. While visiting the little town of Ponyville with Twilight, Celestia was confronted with the end result of an ancient, forgotten prophecy—the return of the legendary Nightmare Moon, destined to wreak havoc on Equestria! Celestia and her friends managed to defeat the monster using the ancient Elements of Harmony, but there was another surprise in store for them: the magic they had used to defeat Nightmare Moon didn’t kill her, but instead turned her back into the long-lost Princess of the Moon (and, coincidentally, Twilight’s sixty-first great-grandmother)—Princess Luna I of Equestria!

Now, I’m sure you all remember the sparks that flew between Luna and Celestia. Celestia was used to running Equestria more-or-less on her own, but Luna, who revived the long-vacant Lunar Throne, was old and set in her ways—and, as it turned out, she had quite the temper. For months, Luna tried to make Celestia behave the way she thought she should, but Celestia was having none of it.

The fight between the two of them came to a real head during the Grand Galloping Gala, three years ago. Celestia had invited Twilight and her friends to the party, and worked hard to make sure they had a good time, but a quiet evening simply wasn’t in the cards for them. Everything that could go wrong, did go wrong, including a raging elephant, escaped from the Royal Menagerie, that charged through the middle of the ballroom! Celestia got hurt as the room collapsed, and was treated for her injuries at Canterlot General. We were all terrified for her—this reporter especially—but, as it turned out, a stay in the hospital healed more than just her physical wounds.

While she there, she had a real heart-to-heart with her brother, Prince Blueblood. They hadn’t really gotten along since they were kids, but, as Blueblood told us later, seeing his sister almost get killed made him realize what was really important. The two of them reconciled, and, on his advice, Celestia returned to the scene of the crime to apologize to Princess Luna.

That apology was very nearly the last mistake she ever made! By all reports, Luna was already so angry at her that she nearly tore Celestia’s throat out, even injured as she was. During the shouting match, though, Luna accidentally revealed what had her so worked up: she was afraid that Celestia wasn’t taking her job as Princess seriously, and of what would happen if and when she simply couldn’t be the Princess that Equestria needed her to be.

After more shouting and tears, the two of them managed to work out something of a plan: Luna would go to Ponyville to figure herself out, and to spend time with her granddaughter Twilight. Meanwhile, Celestia would stay in Canterlot to rule, with her newly-minted advisor Blueblood helping to keep things on an even keel.

Since then, things have quieted down a great deal. Celestia now peacefully shares her Royal duties with Luna, and the two of them have learned to get along. Twilight Sparkle continues to stay in Ponyville, and, though she’s dearly missed in Canterlot, she’s really started to thrive out on her own. And, most exciting of all, Celestia has started dating somepony—a Wonderbolt by the name of Soaring Skies! (We’ve reached out to this still-mysterious, up-and-coming officer, so keep an eye out for yet another exclusive Nosy Nag interview soon!)

Now, I know what you’re thinking: this all sounds rather fantastical, doesn’t it? Don’t worry—the pony that I spoke to was very much a down-to-earth twenty-year-old, quite different than her rebellious self of three years ago. Now she spends her time working in the Palace, going on dates with Lt. Skies, and playing her trumpet to relax. By all indications, Equestria is safe in her more-than-capable hooves.

To learn more about the youngest Princess of the Sun in over a century, turn the page and read the rest of our interview, where we discuss her day-to-day job, what it’s like dating somepony as a Princess, and the best place to get doughnuts at 2AM in Canterlot!

3: "Tender Is The Night"

“In any case you mustn't confuse a single failure with a final defeat.”

Philomena squawked in alarm as a sheaf of papers flew past her perch. “Shut up,” I muttered, as I threw another bunch of papers over my shoulder.

My collection of sheet music was small. Too small. Most of what I had was happy and upbeat. Tonight, I needed something hot and angry. Fire from heaven, bolts of lightning, volcanic eruptions. But all I had was soft jazz.

I ripped the last little packet out of the box, then scowled at it. “A Kiss To Build A Dream On,” by Joust Hoofstrong. It was dog-eared and worn, the margins almost black with chickenscratch, notes, and corrections. I growled to myself and threw it down. I picked up the empty box, turned it over, and shook it, and, when nothing more fell out, I turned and hurled it at the far wall.

Philomena shielded herself with her wing as the box flew past, then flew up to perch on the mantelpiece. I barely noticed, though; I was too busy yanking my trumpet out of its case and storming towards my balcony. I spun, kicked the doors open with my hind legs, then stomped out onto the white marble overlooking the valley below. I knew I shouldn’t play my horn up here, not at this time of night—but then again, I was Princess. And I was sick of not being good enough.

I took a deep breath, put the trumpet to my lips, and blew. All that came out was a harsh, deafening bray, like some animal roaring in pain. No music in it at all--and yet, it still rang true.

It had only been this morning when Blueblood and Rarity came to see me in my office. They’d seen how far I’d fallen behind without them. They’d seen how terrible a Princess I was. Oh, they’d been nice enough not to say anything—not to my face, anyways. But they hadn’t had to. I could tell how disappointed they were in me. It wasn’t hard. They hadn’t even looked at me the rest of the afternoon. And now the two of them were out in Ponyville, celebrating my best friend’s birthday without me, leaving me here, all by myself, with nothing to dull the pain except my trumpet.

And I couldn’t even do that right.

A few ponies poked their heads out of windows to see what was going on. I just scowled down at them. Screw them. Screw them all. If they wanted peace and quiet, they could buy some damn earplugs.

At that moment, I heard a click, and a beam of light fell across my balcony. Someone had opened my bedroom door, without knocking. I scowled, then turned to see who it was—and, when I did, my scowl deepened.

“What do you want?” I snapped at her.

“Just here, Barnabas,” Aunt Luna said, gesturing to the end table next to my overstuffed armchair. The old stallion beside her, with a covered silver tray balanced on his back, eyed the table uncertainly; it was already piled high with old drink cups, hayburger wrappers, dirty towels, and stacks of official-looking papers. Luna however, just lit her horn, and, in seconds, the table cleared itself: the laundry soared through the air and landed in my hamper, the papers re-folded and stacked themselves, and the garbage wadded itself up into tiny balls before rolling discreetly away. The stallion set his tray down, bowed, and backed out of the room.

“Good evening, Celestia,” Aunt Luna said, avoiding my gaze. “I was hoping that we could have a little chat.”

“I’m busy,” I said, waving my trumpet vaguely at her.

“Even so,” she said.

Luna sat—but, rather than taking my armchair, as she always had, she pulled up my ottoman and sat on that. She lifted the cover on the tray, revealing a tea service, complete with steaming teapot and a small plate filled with old-fashioned cookies. She quietly picked up the teapot and filled both teacups with golden-brown liquid, then started to add the sugar and cream.

“Come sit, please,” she added, almost off-handedly.

For a split second, I considered hurling my trumpet straight at her stupid face—but, just as quickly, I decided against it. She wasn’t doing anything wrong, and, more importantly, I liked my trumpet. I sighed irritably, but walked inside, tossed my trumpet on my bed, and sat in my armchair with a huff.

Luna silently offered me a small saucer, a teacup and a couple cookies already perched on it, and I took it. I sipped at the tea—it was only polite, after all—then peered down at it. I was still very much a coffee mare, but Luna had made me try a few cups of tea over the years. This one was chamomile—supposed to be calming.

I tried to get angry at her—how dare she try to make me calm down at a time like this?—but my heart wasn’t in it anymore. Instead, I nibbled at one of the cookies.

We sat in silence for a few minutes, drinking our tea and eating our cookies, before Luna shifted her weight on my ottoman.

“I spoke with Prince Blueblood and Lady Rarity,” she said.

“Oh yeah?” I spat. “They tell you what a terrible job I’m doing?”

“After a fashion,” she admitted.

I snarled, but before I could say anything, she spoke again. “He is worried that you are falling behind your workload without his help,” she said. “That, perhaps, you should hire additional staff to help share the burden before your position becomes untenable.” I opened my mouth to reply, but Luna kept talking. “However nearsighted his analysis, you must admit that he has reason for concern,” she said. “After all, a great deal has happened since he left on his honeymoon.”

I snorted. “That’s putting it mildly,” I said.

“Indeed,” she replied. “The collapse of the Galloping Gorge rail bridge, the unexpected magical surges in the Everfree Forest, the inexplicable spoilage of thousands of bits of relief supplies—not to mention a dozen other things that all require attention.” She took a sip of her tea. “In any case,” she continued, “I attempted to disabuse our dear Blueblood of the notion that the influx of reports on your desk was as a result of laziness on your part… though, I am not entirely certain how effective an effort that was,” she added.

I nodded, then took a deep breath.

“So,” I said carefully, “You don’t agree with him? You… you don’t think I’m a bad Princess?”

For a long moment, Luna didn’t answer. I risked a careful glance upward, only to find her staring back at me carefully. As soon as I met her gaze, I looked down again.

“It’s okay,” I mumbled into my tea. “You don’t have to say it, if you don’t want to.”

Luna blinked, then set down her tea and leaned closer.

“No no no,” she said kindly, “you must not talk like that, Celestia. We should do our best to never
hold ourselves responsible for things outside of our control. And, when unexpected events occur, we do the best we can, and we must not blame ourselves if circumstances make demands that are too great for us to bear.” She touched me on the hoof. “Do you understand my meaning?”

I smiled weakly, then looked up at her. “Is that from another one of Dr. Rose’s books?” I asked.

Luna paused, then chuckled to herself. “Quite right, Celestia. That does sound like something she would say...”

I nodded, and Luna smiled and shook her head slowly.

“But no,” she continued, “that is a sentiment of my own devising. No offense meant towards dear Dr. Rose, of course. She has helped me a great deal more than I ever would have thought possible,” she added, half to herself. “Her talking cures are simply marvelous.”

“It’s called therapy, Auntie,” I muttered.

“My apologies,” she replied. “I had forgotten. In either case, she has been immensely helpful, at least in my case…”

She looked over the top of her glasses at me. Reflexively, I looked away. We stayed like that for a long, aching moment that dripped with implication and guilt.

Luna had been trying to get me to see Dr. Winter Rose for weeks now. Luna had started seeing her on her own a couple years ago, and, to hear her tell it, she was a miracle worker. Dr. Rose had helped her work through the guilt and anger she had left over from Nightmare Moon, and had taught her a few tricks to keep her demons at bay when they reared their ugly head.

But...

I bit my lip. I’d seen Dr. Rose once already, in the hospital, and she’d talked to me a little, but I still hated the idea of seeing her. I already rehashed my mistakes every night after I fell asleep; I wasn’t exactly looking forward to doing it again after I woke up. And yet, Luna swore by her shrink.

Our shrink, a part of me thought guiltily.

“In any case,” Luna said suddenly, “I am sure that she has room in her schedule for you, if you wish it. I think you may find her company quite enjoyable. I know dear Twilight did, at any rate.”

She paused, then shot me another hooded glance. She took a deep breath, straightened up a little, and, in a tone of voice that she meant to be casual, she said:

“Speaking of… how are you and she getting along? I have not seen Twilight around the Palace for some time.”

“Since the wedding,” I murmured, involuntarily. Luna’s ears perked up at my response, but I bit my lip. My mind raced—

“Her birthday’s coming up,” I said, “and she’s having her party here at the Palace.”

She nodded. “Her debutante ball,” she said.

“Her eighteenth,” I corrected.

This had been the debate for months. Luna had wanted to have a proper debutante ball—or, as she’d been calling it, despite our protests, Twilight’s coming-out. It was an old tradition from Luna’s time, and marked the moment a mare of quality entered Canterlot society as an adult. I had wanted to just have a normal birthday party for her, but Luna had insisted that she, as a relative unknown, needed the formal introduction to the bureaucrats and politicians that she would, someday, have to work with. But, before our disagreement could explode into a full-blown argument, Twilight showed up and forged a compromise: we would hold her party on her birthday itself, roll it together with the Spring Garden Party, and kill several birds with one stone. Seems like her work in Friendship Studies was finally paying off--at least in one respect.

(As part of the agreement, we’d made the choice that Twilight’s Family birthday party would be held the week after the Spring Garden Party, while her Friend party would be held a few days before—like, for example, today. The fresh reminder made me squirm.)

“S-so I’ll be seeing her soon,” I continued. “And we’ve already planned to spend most of the night catching up. So we’ll be okay, I think.”

Luna nodded slowly, but I could tell that she wasn’t satisfied.

“That is all well and good,” she said carefully, “but that was not my question.” She lit her horn, picked up a silver spoon, and stirred her tea. “I have heard rumors of an argument—”

At that moment I let loose an enormous—and completely fake—yawn. I even stretched for good measure.

“Thanks for the tea, Auntie,” I said, “really. But it’s getting late, and I need to get to bed.” I gave a fake little chuckle. “After all, like dear ol’ Blueblood probably told you—I have lots to do in the morning!”

Aunt Luna opened her mouth, then closed it. A battle was going on behind those eyes of hers—the battle between her need to be proper, and her need to know what, exactly, was going on between Twilight and I. A few moments later, though, and it was clear that propriety was going to carry the day.

She bit her lip and lowered her gaze slightly. “Very well, then,” Luna said, her voice strained. “Perhaps we shall speak of this more in the morning…”

“Of course,” I said, making a little bow. “Now, don’t let me keep you…” I added, gesturing at the door. I stood and plodded dramatically to my bed, trying to hide my smirk.

Luna’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she stood, set her teacup on the tray, then walked from the room. She opened the door and stepped out, but before she closed it, she turned back to look at me. I had already climbed into my bed, and pulled the covers up to my chin. She watched for a moment, her lips pressed into a thin line, then quietly closed the door.

For a half-second, I almost laughed. I had won. Oh, sure, she probably did want to make me feel better—and she had helped, as much as I hated to admit it. But that wasn’t the only reason she had come. She wanted to help--but what she wanted more was gossip. And, despite her best efforts, she hadn’t gotten a thing out of me.

And yet…

Twilight’s face swam into focus above me, her expression contorted in a mask of disdain and anger.

I gulped, and my gut twisted into a knot.

Luna knows.

Arc D’Triomphe: L’Intérêt Romantique

“Quite the party, this is,” I said to Mother.

“Arc,” she said, her perfect Prench accented with a warning, “please be nice. After all, this is so important to your father...”

“I am,” I replied. “It’s not as exciting as the parties we have back in Maresailles, of course, but it’s nice to get a little peace and quiet.” I sipped at my glass, then looked around. The three of us stood in the middle of the Canterlot Garden Party, supposed to be one of the fanciest events in Equestria. It was nice, of course, but I’d never felt quite at home at these sorts of things...

I looked down at my glass. “And what did you say this was called?” I asked Mother.

“In Common Equestrian, they call it... the cider,” she said, slipping carefully out of her Prench. “Really, it’s nothing like the cider back home. They serve it too quickly, don’t let it ferment at all, and they put too many spices in it to really taste the apples.” She sighed. “Though it can be quite delicious, I still miss the sort we can get in Prance…”

I gave her a sidelong glance. “Any chance of a glass of wine, then?”

She chuckled. “Nice try, but no. You’ll have to wait until you’re twenty-one, at least in Equestria. For now, you’ll have to content yourself with your…” she sneered the slightest bit “...apple juice.”

“Dears,” Father said, suddenly, “look sharp. I believe the lady of honor is coming this way.”

I looked up, and blinked in surprise. Working her way slowly through the crowd towards us was a mare I didn’t recognize. She wore a shining silver gown, had a white coat, and had curled her purple mane in the latest Prench fashion—or something like it, at least.

“The Lady Rarity,” Mother whispered in my ear. “Married Prince Blueblood last month.”

I looked at her and nodded, then turned back to watch the mare. As she drew closer, the crowd parted a little—and very nearly dropped my glass.

At first, I had thought she was alone, but no: beside her was a second pony. I knew her name, of course. She had been introduced as Lady Twilight Sparkle when she entered the garden. But, from where we were standing, I hadn’t been able to get a good look at her—from that distance, she was merely a purple-and-gold blur. But, from this close…

She was magnificent. So small and demure, yet obviously intelligent, not to mention clever. Her dress was a simple, yellow thing, and yet it suited her slight frame perfectly. She turned to look at me, and for just a moment, my heart fluttered. She couldn’t have been more beautiful were she a goddess painted by Mérens...

Andsuddenly, I felt completely and utterly naked. For just a moment, I saw myself as she must see me: a scrawny unicorn colt, just entering adulthood, with eyeglasses two sizes too large. Nothing much to look at, with a cream-colored coat and a dull-red mane—next to the brilliant whites and creamy pastels of his parents, he’s practically an old dishrag lying in the gutter. Even his cutie mark is embarrassing: a famous Prench landmark, indicating an interest in both history and architecture, neither of which are fields that would win over a mare of quality. Nothing to recommend him save his father’s money, as indicated by a tailored suit and a narrow tie of Neightalian silk. In short: an utterly forgettable young stallion, who had foolishly chosen to accompany his parents on their night of pleasure, when he would have much rather been at home studying one of his books...

Distantly, I heard Father speaking, but in Equestrian this time. My ears perked up. Ever since we’d planned this trip, I’d been trying to brush up on the language, but it was harder than I thought it would be. I could understand most ponies fairly well, but speaking was still difficult…

“Always a pleasure, of course, Milady,” he was saying. “And yet, I don’t believe I’ve met your companion..?”

Rarity gave a little curtsy. “Of course. Twilight, this is Fancy Pants. Fancy Pants, this is Lady Twilight Sparkle.”

He shook her hoof warmly. “Glad to make your acquaintance.” He gestured towards Mother. “And this is my wife, Fleur Dis Lee…”

“Enchanted,” she said in Prench, then leaned forward and kissed Twilight on both cheeks. Twilight staggered backwards a step, her glasses slipping off her nose, which somehow made me love her even more.

“...and this is my son, Arc D’Triomphe,” he said, grabbing me by the elbow and dragging me forward. “Say hello, Arc.”

“‘Allo,” I said awkwardly.

“Hel-lo!”Rarity gasped, turning to Father. “I didn’t know you had a son—!”

I licked my lips. “I… h-have the study… at th-the second school…” I said nervously.

“Arc just graduated from a prestigious secondary academy in Maresailles,” Father said proudly. “He’s spending a year travelling, and will return to the University of Gasconeigh in the Fall. He just happened to be visiting home in time for this delightful party.”

“Oh really!” cried Rarity. “Fascinating! Well, I’d love to catch up, hear all about Prance, but we really must be going… more ponies to meet, of course…”

“I think we can stay another minute,” Twilight said.

I looked up, surprised, and saw her staring back at me. She smiled a little, and I felt my face flush.

“Perhaps we can come back later, Darling,” Rarity said, pulling on Twilight’s elbow. As they trotted away, Twilight turned back and looked over her shoulder at me. I gave her a little smile and a wave of my hoof, and she blushed and looked away quickly.

“Well,” said Mother, “she seems nice.”

“Indeed,” said Father. “Smart as a whip, that one—though she seems a little too shy for her own good…”

“I liked her,” I said with a sigh.

Father looked surprised, but Mother just gave me a knowing look.

I took a sip of my now-warm cider, then looked around the room. I spotted Twilight, a short distance away, but she was already deep in conversation with another mare. I watched her for a moment, thinking foolish thoughts, before something else caught my eye. I turned and stared for a moment, then tapped Father’s shoulder.

“Yes, Arc?” he asked, leaning down.

“Is that… the Princess?” I asked, gesturing.

Father glanced up, then looked back down. “One of them, yes. That’s Celestia, the Sun Princess.”

“And this is her party, correct?”

“After a manner of speaking. It’s the Palace’s party, to be truthful, but it’s often considered an opportunity for Her Highness to keep tabs on the important ponies of the Kingdom.”

I nodded. “But, then—why is she so upset?”

Mother and Father both turned to look, seeing, for the first time, what I had already noticed. Princess Celestia towered over everypony else, so she wasn’t exactly hard to see. Even so, she had retreated to a corner of the garden, and stood with her back facing us, head down and wings drooped. Beside her stood a shorter stallion in a military uniform, apparently attempting to console her—though, for all the effect he was having, he might have as well been talking to a wall.

Father looked back at me again, his eyes sparkling behind his monocle.

“Haven’t the foggiest,” he said.

And, though he was trying to smile, I thought I could sense his unease.

14: "The Devil in the White City"

“Beside his own person and his own interests, nothing is sacred to the psychopath.”

The gravel crunched underhoof as we walked down the path towards the hedge maze. Towards the crater. Towards Discord.

I wore my regalia—or, what was left of it, at any rate. My crown was perched on my head, and my horseshoes were on my hooves, but I felt strangely naked without the Peytral around my neck. I’d wrapped myself in a scarf that Aunt Velvet had knitted for me, just to have the weight of something there, even though I was pretty sure Luna herself was going to disapprove. To my astonishment, she hadn’t said a word.

I risked a glance at Luna. She walked beside me, head held high. There was no trace left of the weak, frightened pony she’d been a few minutes ago. Now, she walked with purpose, like a martyr to the pyre.

I shook my head. No, that wasn’t how it was going to go. Not for very long, anyways.

As we drew closer to the crater, the roaring of the storm grew louder, and the wind began to pick up. Soon, the breeze was strong enough to whip my mane around my face. I closed my eyes and turned away—but Luna kept walking, staring straight ahead.

We reached the edge of the crater. I shielded my eyes from the wind, then looked down—and my eyes widened. In the center of the crater hung that point of light that I’d seen from the balcony, but, from this distance, I could see it wasn’t alone. A dark shape, hanging in midair, huddled around it—a dark shape that I’d bet my wings was Discord.

Or, I would havebet, if I hadn’t already lost them.

It took me a second to realize that Luna was still moving. She had paused, like me, on the edge of the crater, but she had waited only long enough to pick out a path downward. By now, she was almost halfway down to the crater floor. I gulped, then hurried after her, slipping and sliding on the loose soil.

As we drew close to the center of the crater, my pace slowed, then stopped, and I stared, open-mouthed, at the scene before me.

Discord hung in the air, his tail curled beneath him in a half-circle. He held his claws in front of him, palms-up—and, just above them, hung the Sun Stone. It shone a brilliant, burning white, so bright the stone itself had turned from its native purple to a bright lilac. Around the Sun Stone orbited six smaller lights: the six Elements of Harmony, freed of their golden settings, swinging about the Sun Stone in complex, inscrutable patterns. Discord hunched over the stones, watching them with a mad gleam in his eyes.

I stood there, the wind whipping my mane, until another bolt of lightning split the sky with a deafening crack. I shrieked and shied away—but with a jolt, I saw another, smaller figure: Luna, still walking steadily towards Discord.I almost cried out for her to come back, but then I remembered our plan. I bit my tongue, and galloped towards her.

“Discord!” she cried, her voice loud and clear. “I have come to make you an offer!”

Discord turned and shot a haughty glance at Luna.

“Ah, Your Highness,” he purred. “How kind of you to finally put in an appearance.” He glanced up at me. “And Your Other Highness,” he added, a faint snarl in his voice. “I didn’t expect to see your true colors again for some time, yet…”

“I am the one here to treat with you, not she,” Luna interrupted. Discord turned to look at her, one eyebrow raised. “I know what you really want, Discord,” she continued, louder. “And I am here to make a trade.”

Discord raised his eyebrows, then leaned down towards her with a crazed sort of hunger on his face. “Indeed,” he murmured. “Well then—now you have my attention.”

Luna lit her horn, and, with only the slightest effort, pried the Moon Stone from her Peytral. She held it up towards Discord, where it glowed, silver-white like the moon.

Discord’s eyes widened. “Ah,” he said gently, reaching out a claw to take the stone. “You are here to finally give me what I tried to take from you this morning. You know, all this heartache could have been avoided if you’d just left your Peytral on the nightstand for five minutes, like dear old Celestia here…”

But, before he could take the Stone, Luna pulled it away.

“I shall give it to you,” she said, “in exchange for the Elements of Harmony.”

Discord drew back as if stung, and let out a little snarl.

“We both know what you are after,” she said, “and the Elements are mere trinkets compared to the Stones.”

“You are asking me to trade power for power,” he hissed. “I generally have a policy of not giving my enemies the means to overthrow me.”

“True,” Luna shot back. “And yet, which do you crave more: gems powered by the whims of the hearts of their holders? Or the Stone that gives absolute power over the moon itself?”

Discord looked suddenly thoughtful. I swallowed nervously as I watched his expression. Luna had said that he’d give his right arm to have the Moon Stone; if that was true, then hopefully he’d give us the Elements without knowing what they really were. If he did that, then we could take them and form a resistance of some sort. Get Twilight and her Ponyville friends back together, convince them to give it another go, and see what happened next.

A bead of sweat rolled down my neck. That would be the idea—but, if what I’d seen in Ponyville was any indication, what we would probably end up doing was finding another group of friends, one that Discord hadn’t twisted, and giving them the Elements. They’d figure them out and come to the rescue. Probably. Maybe even before Discord destroyed Equestria.

I snapped back to reality when Discord chuckled in a deep, bass rumble. “You have quite the tongue, Your Highness,” he said. “It almost makes me wish I hadn’t been so hasty in our previous dealings…”

A muscle in Luna’s neck twitched, and I frowned.

“Very well,” he continued. “I give my word: the Elements of Harmony for the Moon Stone. Do you accept?”

“I do,” she said.

An evil grin split Discord’s face. He passed the Stones he held to his left claw, and, with his right, he reached carefully, almost longingly, for the Stone Luna held.

From where I was standing, I could see the whole scene: Luna, holding up the Moon Stone like a talisman. The blinding light of the other Stones, held in Discord’s left claw. The massive, epileptic storm swirling overhead, drawing power from the Sun Stone. Discord reaching with his free claw to take the Moon Stone from Luna. And the manic grin, full of perverted glee, carved into his features.

My heart stopped. Something was wrong.

“Luna, don’t!” I cried.

But it was too late. Discord plucked the Stone from the grip of her magic, then held it aloft.

“Ah, Luna,” he said, “I’m going to miss how idiotically gullible you are.” He sighed. “I’ll remember your fondly, though, after I’ve conquered the world.”