My Brave Pony: The Knight Who Fell From Space

by Scipio Smith

Rating: everyone
Tags: Main 6, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Mystery, Spike, Romance, Science Fiction, Alternate Universe, Twilight Sparkle
Length: 101856

Twilight Sparkle's world is rocked when a knight and his fairy sister drop out of the sky above Ponyville, and before long she cannot help but wonder if there isn't more to this abrasive warrior than meets the eye.

Twilight Sparkle has been living in Ponyville for almost a year now, and the long-awaited Grand Galloping Gala is just a few days away. But three strangers have come to Ponyville, bringing with them the promise of great change.

One is the enigmatic Raven, who reveals little of herself beyond vague generalisations but who appears to have some history with Twilight and her friends, even if none of them can ever recall meeting her before.
Making much more of a bang, literally, are Prince Lightning Dawn and his sister Krysta; together they bring astonishing revelations about the history of Equestria, while Lightning also brings a stick lodged in his posterior. But Twilight can see something underneath his often unappealing manner, and as he bends towards her she begins to wonder just what it is she might be feeling towards this stranger from the stars.

Can Twilight open Lightning's eyes to a whole new world, and whole new way of living beyond the grim austere demands of duty and necessity? Or will Lightning's nature drive away not only Twilight but also his best hope of salvation?

Unbeknownst to either of them the fates of worlds and stars and even an entire galaxy are bound to these two, the virtuous princess and the half-made knight; and their journey has just begun.

Published 2019-11-22 21:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2020-04-21 16:03:22 UTC

Strangers in Ponyville

Strangers in Ponyville

The pony stood in the midst of a field of swords. They littered the ground, buried point first, jutting up like markers of some kind, or like plants blossoming in the otherwise dead and stony ground. Nothing lived upon this field, save only the single pony who stood in the midst of all those blades; one living creature surrounded by the implements of death.

She – and even though the shape in front of her was too blurry, almost more like a shadow, to make out any details Twilight could nevertheless tell, could feel in her gut, that it was a mare – hung her head. Just as Twilight could sense that this was a mare, so too she could feel the despair, the melancholy of defeat, that clung to this pony like the smell of sweat.

“The fire of heaven burns within my blood.”

The words echoed as if they were falling from the cloudy sky, and though they were spoken in a whispered tone Twilight could hear them as if they sprang from all around her.

“With this flame I will light a way through darkness, and turn to ashes all who oppose me.”

Twilight couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t feel anything, but if she had been able to feel then she would have shivered to hear that. It was such a terrible thing, to wish such harm upon others (and what did ‘oppose’ mean? That was open to such loose interpretation, it could mean anybody you had an argument with) and all the more so because it was said so coldly. There was no emotion in it whatsoever, it was like a catechism learned by rote, devoid of belief or faith or truth, spoken because it was expected that it should be said.

“I burn ferociously, so that my enemies will fall before me. I burn brightly, so that my friends will see me and take heart just as my foes will see me and know fear. I burn warmly, so that many may shelter within my protection. Liar.” That last sounded more emotional than anything that had come before, a single word loaded with bitterness. The pony’s head descended further, even closer to the ground. “Girls… I’m so sorry.”

Twilight Sparkle opened her eyes. The familiar ceiling of her bedroom in the Golden Oaks library, her home since the past summer, confronted her eyes.

Just a dream, Twilight thought. Only a dream. A strange dream, to be sure, but a dream nonetheless. She paid it little mind. Although there was some tradition of prophetic or otherwise revelatory dreaming to be found in the lore and mythology of which she was familiar it was an exceedingly thin tradition rarely attested to even when compared with the body of lore surrounding prophecy – and prophecy itself was an area of magical study that was considered marginal by mainstream academia. And besides, such dreams – when they came – came only to those who were quite extraordinary, and Twilight was not so vain as to claim that mantle for herself.

Not when there was a more explanation in the form of the snack that she had eaten later in the evening than she ought to have done. She had eaten too close to bed-time, and as a result she had been given that strange dream for her trouble.

Twilight threw off her quilt and blanket and climbed out of bed, not really wanting to think of the dream any more but at the same time not quite able to turn her mind away from it. She couldn’t help but wonder who the mare was, what had happened to her, who were the girls to whom she had to apologise and where were they? What was the catechism she recited and why did it lie? If she had been more artistically inclined she might have found it inspiring in a dark or gloomy fashion.

But, though she wasn’t averse to good work of fiction, Twilight preferred to read them than to create them; she preferred writing papers to writing stories.

So she put the dream in all its strangeness out of her mind, or at least shoved it to the back where it would gather dust in the cupboard until eventually it disappeared completely – not that things ever did that when she shoved them to the back of real cupboards, she might have more space if they did – and prepared to face the day. She glanced down at Spike, sleeping in his basket.

Twilight smiled fondly as she adjusted his blanket with a touch of telekinesis; there was no need to wake him yet. He was just a baby, and he needed his rest.

Twilight completed her morning ablutions and went downstairs. Her horn flared lavender as she pulled out the book – the somewhat oxymoronically titled Advanced Animation: A Primer – from the shelf where she had replaced it when she had, somewhat reluctantly, given up work and gone to bed the night before. The golem was waiting for her near the back of the room.

Yes, the golem. They were creations that she had come across in her reading, with a history that was by turns rather creepy and almost amusingly banal; she had found more information in this book about the more modern, unicorn-pioneered form that had enabled her to start working on one of her own. She probably wasn’t going to animate it; she almost certainly wasn’t going to animate it – what would it do? Did she want the responsibility for bringing life into the world? No, it would be like becoming a mother and she was nowhere near ready for that kind of responsibility yet – but she relished the challenge of bringing such a thing to the point where it could be animated by a spell, and the thought of learning the spell itself, even if she never used it in her life, was a rather enticing thought to her as well. For Twilight Sparkle there was nothing wrong with knowledge for the sake of knowledge, in fact she considered it to be amongst the best kinds.

That was why there was a statue of a pony taking form out of clay in her library, a statue which, when finished, she could in theory – but would not in practice – cause to wake up, to walk around, even to talk if she cast the more advanced version of the spell. She could even compel it to obey her every command, cause it to awaken without free will or self awareness.

Sometimes knowledge for the knowledge’s sake was the only acceptable way to possess such knowledge. Some spells should be learnt but never used.

But in the meantime, even if the usage was morally questionable at best, the act of learning involved could be thoroughly, well, educational. That was why there was a statue of a pony taking form out of clay in her library: this project had already taught her so much about clay and the proper use of telekinesis in the moulding therein, sculpting, anatomy, proportion, all manner of spells that she had never guessed at before.

Twilight studied the statue that she had begun; she had stayed up late working on it because she felt as though she was almost done with it, and she had felt as she so often did when working on a project, that desire to push forward beyond all obstacles and reach the finish. Spike had been asleep for hours by the time Twilight went to bed, and even Owlowiscious had called it a night while Twilight burned the candle. She was so close, she just wanted to get there and see if she could do it.

She could feel the excitement that had proved more effective than caffeine building up inside of her even now as she gazed upon her as yet unfinished work. The golem she was making – the clay sculpture that would become a golem if she cast the spell that she would not cast; the sculpture (the vessel as the books referred to it) was as important as the spell itself, not just as any statue or sculpture would do, it had to be prepared in the proper way; something else that Twilight had learnt as a result of this – was a unicorn, or had a unicorn’s shape, but partially by accident and then, once she noticed it, by design Twilight found that she had ended up incorporating bits of all her friends into the design. It had Applejack’s strong hind legs, in fact when Twilight looked at it she found that the posture into which she had moulded the golem reminded her very much of Applejack, not only her strength but unprepossessing self-confidence, the easygoing self-assurance of her manner; and yet she fancied that there was also something of Rarity’s grace in there, particularly the way in which she held her head; while the smile that Twilight had sculpted on the golem’s face was pure Pinkie Pie, with all of the infectious joy that Twilight had been able to transmute from memory into the clay; the shape of the eyes belonged to Fluttershy, kindly and soft; while the body was lean and built for speed, just like Rainbow Dash. Of Twilight herself she had only added a superficial element: the cut of the golem’s mane would be her own, if she animated it which she would probably not.

But how eager was she to get to the point at which she could make that decision in practice.

Twilight levitated the book over to her, to see what the next step was. She was about to begin reading when the air was rent by an enormous explosion, louder by several times than Rainbow’s sonic rainboom, splitting the sky outside.

Twilight jumped at the sound, losing her grip on the book which fell to the floor with a solid thump as a squeak of fright escaped her lips. What was that? It was louder than a dragon’s roar, and sharper too, and swifter? Twilight rushed to the window, her ears ringing so badly that she couldn’t even hear the sound of her hooves upon the floorboards, and looked out, her wide eyes scanning the sky all around.

There! There, to the east of town, between the outskirts of Ponyville and the Everfree Forest, Twilight saw it. Saw something at least. What exactly it was that she was seeing she couldn’t really say, but she was seeing something.

It looked like a hole in the sky. That was a best way that Twilight could describe it, her rigorous intellect going numb with disbelief and leaving her to grasp as simple concepts to describe the undoubtedly vast complexity of what she was seeing; but it looked like a hole in the sky, or maybe a funnel in the sky; it looked like something had punched a hole through the blue as though the air itself were some painted background through which things could intrude upon reality with sufficient force, leaving this hole, this tunnel into the dark void beyond, this tunnel that was whooshing as air was pushed out of it and down upon the ground below with sufficient force to smash the trees beneath to splinters.

A hole through which Twilight could see a single object, too far away to make out more than a dark blob silhouetted against the sky, falling as the hole closed up behind it and the powerful onrush of air ceased.

And yet the object continued to fall, quickly and inexorably, towards the ground.

Pinkie hopped merrily down the street; she was a naturally early riser, just because she had too much energy for a bed to contain it for any longer than absolutely necessary, so she had already been up for about an hour or so, maybe a little longer. Actually it must have been longer because she’d already gotten a batch of cupcakes made before she headed out to spring her legs and that took a bit more than hour, so there.

She waved to a couple of friends, Lyra and Bon Bon, going the other way, and was rewarded with a cheery greeting that she returned with equal good cheer; they didn’t look as though they needed any especial cheering up though, so Pinkie didn’t stop but continued on her way.

A feeling, an itch in her nose to be precise, told her that she was about to collide with somebody, so Pinkie skidded to a stop right before a pony emerged from out of the alleyway directly in front of her.

The pony was draped in a dark blue cloak, with a hood covering their head so that Pinkie couldn’t even tell if they were a mare or a stallion, let alone if they were an earth pony or a unicorn or a pegasus or what kind of coat they had or the colour of their eyes or mane or anything at all. It was kind of weird, to be honest; not many ponies bothered to wear clothes in Ponyville – not even Rarity got dressed up every day, only for special occasions like the Grand Galloping Gala that was coming up in just a few days – and those that did didn’t cover themselves up so nobody could see them. It was like this pony was hiding from something, like they didn’t want anybody to see them.

Thinking of it that way made Pinkie feel kind of sad; nobody should have to hide who they were because they were scared.

Good thing that the number one party pony of Ponyville was here to take care of anything that might be bothering them!

“Hey there!” Pinkie said brightly.

The pony in the hood and cloak noticed Pinkie with a start, shuffling backwards away from her with a soft gasp of surprise. “Pinkie!” she exclaimed, in a voice that was scratchy and harsh but… it was weird, it kind of felt as though Pinkie remembered that voice, even though she didn’t, which was odd because Pinkie never forgot the sound of a friends voice any more than she ever forgot a face and if they’d met before she would have remembered this voice, and she didn’t… so why did it seem so familiar? “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Sorry,” Pinkie said. “I just wanted to say hello and welcome to- wait a second. You know who I am! Have we met before?”

The hooded pony was silent for a moment. “Yes,” she said. “A… a very long time ago.”

Pinkie frowned. “It can’t have been that long of a time ago, I haven’t been around for any time long enough to be a long time. And why don’t I remember you?”

“I’m not particularly memorable.”

“Don’t say that,” Pinkie said. “I remember all of my friends. Or I thought I did. I don’t think that I’ve forgotten anybody I’ve ever met.” Pinkie gasped as a horrifying thought struck her. “But then if I’d forgotten anypony then how would I know? This is terrible! What if I’ve forgotten almost everypony that I’ve ever met? What if I forget about Twilight? Or Rainbow Dash? What if I’ve got creeping amnesia and I wake up tomorrow and I don’t remember any of my friends in fact I don’t even remember what friends are?!”

The pony’s face was hidden behind the hood, but Pinkie found that she could imagine the look on her face just by the tone of her voice as she said, “You know, somehow I think you’ll be okay.”

“But then why don’t I remember who you are?” Pinkie demanded.

“You’re not losing your memory,” the pony said. “You don’t remember me because…” she sighed. “Because a lot has changed since we last met. At least… I’ve changed, although I’m glad to see that you haven’t. I’ve changed so much that it doesn’t surprise me that you don’t know who I am. I’d be astonished if you did.”

Pinkie tilted her head to one side. “Well… why don’t you tell me your name?”

“Raven,” Raven said. “I go by Raven now.”

“Huh,” Pinkie said. It wasn’t exactly an odd name, but it wasn’t usual either. It was kind of in that in-between kind of space. “What did you used to be called?”

“I… I’d rather not say.”

“Oh, okay,” Pinkie said. “Well, anyway, welcome back to Ponyville. Or… it was Ponyville where we met, wasn’t it?”

Raven chuckled. “Yes, Pinkie; we met right here.”

Pinkie smiled. “Has it been a while?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Raven said. It was hard to be sure but by the way her hood moved it looked as though she was looking around. “I… I’d forgotten how lovely it was here. It’s a pity that I can’t stay longer.”

“If it’s a pity then why don’t you stay as long as you want?” Pinkie asked.

“That’s not possible,” Raven said. “With luck my business will be concluded in just a few days time.”

Pinkie didn’t pry into what that business was. Instead she said, “Ooh, since I don’t remember your Welcome to Ponyville Party how about I throw you a welcome back party?”

“That would be great, I’m sure, but not necessary,” Raven said.

“It might not be necessary,” Pinkie said. “But that doesn’t mean that it won’t be fun. Most of the most fun things in life aren’t necessary, but that doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t do them. If everypony only ever did what was necessary and never stopped to enjoy life then… then life wouldn’t be enjoyable at all.”

“I suppose you’re not wrong about that. Pinkie, will you make me a promise?”

“That depends,” Pinkie said. “I’d like to, but… what is it?”

“Don’t ever change,” Raven said plaintively.

Pinkie tilted her head ninety degrees to one side. “I don’t know if I could promise that. Everypony changes, right?”

Raven was quiet for a moment. “Yes,” she said sadly. “Yes, I suppose that’s true. But… don’t change too much, okay. Don’t lose sight of who you are. Don’t lose your heart.”

Pinkie smiled. “I won’t. I promise,” she said, with a light heart because she hadn’t been planning on ever losing it anyway.

“Pinkie promise?”

“Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye,” Pinkie said. “Ow,” she added as she poked herself in said eye. Her smile remained in place. “You know, I think I will throw you that welcome back party, you seem like you could use it.”

“I don’t need a party, Pinkie.”

“Then why do you seem so sad?” Pinkie asked.

“I’m not sad,” Raven said. “I am… a little solemn, perhaps, but I feel much better already just from hearing you make that promise. And besides, you don’t have time to throw me a party right now.”

“Huh?” Pinkie said. “What do you mean? We’ve got-“ she stopped, her word train slamming to a halt as a twitch in her tail warned her of an impending falling object. A real doozy of a falling object. She dived for cover in the shelter of the alleyway from which Raven had just emerged. “Raven! Get down!”

“It won’t fall on us, don’t worry,” Raven said calmly. “That’s not why you’re sensing danger.”

An explosion split the sky.

Twilight ran out of Ponyville and across the field towards the source of the explosion. As she left the library and headed down Mane Street as quickly as she could – she realised when she was halfway out of town that she hadn’t told Spike anything about where she was going, but consoled herself that he’d probably be able to guess once he got to a window and saw the immense cloud of dust that had been kicked up by the crash of whatever it was that had fallen out of the sky – she could see ponies poking their heads out of doors, looking anxiously out of windows, staring in the direction of the hole that had briefly been torn in their sky, and at the crater formed in the fields beyond and all the dust that was being thrown up there.

“Don’t worry, Twilight will handle it,” she heard someone say as she rushed past. She wasn’t sure whether to take it as a compliment or wish that other ponies were more proactive. A bit of both was probably the honest answer.

She wasn’t the first one on the scene. She hadn’t expected to be. Rainbow Dash was there before her, the rainbow trail that followed in her wake announcing that fact as she swooped out of the clouds and down towards the dust cloud, hovering a few feet away from it as she waited, forehooves folded, for the others to arrive. Twilight could see Applejack coming down from her farm, and a quick glance behind her showed that Pinkie was catching up with Twilight, with Rarity not too far behind.

Of Fluttershy there was, as yet, no sign, and it occurred to Twilight that her animals had probably been frightened half to death by the sudden blast and all its consequence, and would require a degree of calming down.

For that matter, Fluttershy had probably been a little startled herself.

Twilight arrived at the crater, the air still foggy with dust kicked up that had not yet settled, such a storm of dust that it was still nigh impossible to see beyond it. And so the five friends who gathered there waited, silently, cautious but prepared, peering into the dust as they waited for it to die down so they could see what waited on the other side.

What could it be? Twilight wondered. Her mind was a whirl of possibilities, most of them starting with the fact that that hole in the sky had to be incredibly advanced and powerful magic. So what did they want, and were they friend or… or not so friendly.

A voice, male but not overly deep, a little higher in pitch than Shining Armour’s voice or… somewhere around there, anyway, the voice of someone about Twilight’s age she would have said, issued from the other side of the dust cloud. “Krysta, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” replied a high-pitched female voice. “You saw to that when you decided to play cushion for me. How are you holding up?”

The male groaned. “I’ll be fine.”

“Great!” the other – Krysta, presumably – cried. “Because that means I can say that that was totally awesome!”

“So you were screaming in excitement?”

“Obviously, what else would I be screaming about?”

“The fact that we were in free fall?”

“I knew your hard head would be able to take it,” Krysta said. “Seriously, you are okay, right? You did land pretty hard.”

The male winced. “It isn’t just my head that’s hard, praise be to the King,” he said. “Although I don’t relish the thought of doing that very often. Anyway, I saw a settlement as we came down, we should try and make contact with someone in authority.”

“They do know we can hear every word of this, right?” Rainbow asked.

There was a moment of silence from the other side.

“You know, Lightning, it kinda sounds as though the locals have come to us,” Krysta said. “I guess we did make a pretty big entrance.”

A pair of shapes began to form in the murky haze formed by the dust, resolving into the pair of creatures who emerged from out of crater and cloud, dusty but seeming untroubled by the fact as they halted, facing the five mares of Ponyville, the two sides each regarding one another.

Twilight lost the battle to keep the shock off her face instantly, for these two visitors from wherever they had come from where neither like anything that she had ever seen before in her life. One – Krysta, she could only assume, although having never seen anything like her before she had no grounds to base that on other than process of elimination – stood just a little taller than Spike or a young filly the age of the Cutie Mark Crusaders, coming perhaps just a little below the shoulder of Twilight or her friends. She was a curious creature that stood on two legs like a minotaur, with hands like a minotaur also; and yet her skin was a very pale shade of beige, and her features were flat, with a tiny nose that barely protruded out in front of her face, a face that was dominated by a pair of large and sparklingly vivid blue eyes accentuated by copious amounts of smoky eyeshadow; her hair was black with an electric blue streak, cut with a fringe like Twilight’s before falling straight down her back, and her lips were painted a glossy neon pink; a quartet of gossamer wings emerged from out of her back. She was dressed in a black top that left her arms exposed, or would have done if she were not also wearing long black gloves that went almost up to her shoulders; her skirt was short, but her boots went up higher than her knees.

If Twilight felt reasonably confident in identifying that creature as Krysta then it was only because her companion was a more familiar sight in some respects, though in others he was almost as bizarre as she. He – Lightning, was that his name? – was a stallion, of that Twilight was certain, having seen enough stallions to be reasonably sure of it. He was a stallion as big as Applejack’s brother, but without any of the soft roundness in Big Macintosh’s build or features, reminding Twilight more of her own brother for the square quality of his face and build, but if possible even more so. He looked, indeed, as if he had been carved out of stone, and by a rather inept journeymare stonecutter at that.

More specifically he looked as though he had been carved out of marble, for the most striking thing about him was the colour of his coat, which was more or less white but shot through with veins of various shades of grey, creating a mottled effect that was exactly like marble. It was probably the most unusual thing about him, which was saying something considering that the second most unusual thing about him was that he had both a pair of wings – his feathers were as mottled and marble-like as his coat – and a golden horn rising out of the untidy nest of his dark brown mane; alicorns were unusual enough, so unusual that Twilight had thought that she could count them off on her forehooves, but to find one that she did not know standing before her and one whose horn was a different colour than his coat, too? It did match his eyes, which were similarly gold, but that was of little matter since horns did not match the colour of eyes but of coats, and in this instance there was a decided mismatch.

The stallion was armoured in garb of silver, that seemed to offer him far more protection than the gear worn by the royal guard back in Canterlot, although she wondered how he managed to fly bearing the weight of it. He had no visible weapon that she could see, but Krysta seemed to have a small sword worn across her back.

Twilight was about to speak, but Krysta pre-empted her. “Yo! Locals! How’re you doing?”

“Krysta!” Lightning squawked, seeming to go a little red in the face.

Krysta looked at him. “What?”

“You can’t just say ‘Yo! Locals!’ like that!”

“Why not?”

“Because you sound like a tourist,” Lightning said. “This is a serious-“

“A serious expedition, yes, I know.”

“Yes, which means that we have to take this seriously,” Lightning said. “This is why I-“ he stopped, taking a deep breath. “Never mind.”

“No, let’s mind, let’s hear what the prince has to say,” Krysta said. She put both hands on her hips. “You were going to say ‘This is why I never take you anywhere’ weren’t you?”

“I-“

“Weren’t you?”

Lightning bowed his head, a shamefaced expression crossing his marbled face. “I didn’t mean… it’s just that you don’t always treat things with the gravity that they require.”

“You mean that unlike you I haven’t gotten a stick up my-“

Twilight coughed politely into her hoof.

The stallion and whatever Krysta was glanced out of the corners of their eyes at the five bemused mares who stood watching them, as if they had temporarily forgotten that they had an audience.

“Can we not do this now?” Lightning hissed out of the side of his mouth.

“Sure, we’ll finish this later,” Krysta murmured.

Lightning’s cheeks flushed a little red as he straightened up, coughed into his own hoof in turn, and cleared his throat. “Greetings, gently and base born mares alike,” he declared, bowing his head. “I come in friendship and goodwill from the court of His Most Radiant Majesty Jupiter, King of Kings and Guardian of the Light; I would be very much obliged if you could direct me towards someone in authority.”

A moment of silence greeted this pronouncement.

Rainbow snorted. “You would have done better starting with ‘Yo! Locals!’”

“Told ya!” Krysta cried triumphantly.

“Although if you do want authority you could do worse than Twilight here,” Rarity said.

“Huh?” Twilight said.

Rarity shrugged. “You are the princess’ student, darling.”

“Well, yes, but…” Twilight fell silent. What Rarity had said was true, after all; and she did enjoy a direct line to Princess Celestia via Spike. You can do this. You can be diplomatic. You can be nice. And he’s just a guy from another world representing someone you’ve never heard of but with a very grandiose title. How hard can it be?

Twilight smiled as she took a step forward. “Hello,” she said. “I’m Twilight Sparkle, and these are my friends Rarity, Rainbow Dash, Applejack and Pinkie Pie. Welcome to Ponyville.” She chuckled nervously. “You certainly made quite an entrance.”

Krysta scratched the back of her head nervously with one hand. “Yeah… sorry about that.”

Lightning advanced towards her, bowing her head and hooking one of his armoured forehooves – his silver armour was cold to the touch – around one of Twilight’s legs, raising it to his lips as he kissed her hoof.

Twilight’s eyebrows rose. She had no idea what had possessed him to do such a thing, nor what she was supposed to do in response. She looked helplessly around at her friends, focussing on Rarity who would surely know what to do if anypony did. But Rarity simply looked bemused by it, and nopony else looked as if they had even a sliver of a clue.

“My lady, I thank you for your welcome, and have the honour to name myself Lightning Dawn, Knight of the Star Legion and Prince of the Jovians, and this is my sister, Krysta.”

“That’s Krysta Brighteyes, Princess of Awesomeness,” Krysta declared, waving her hands elaborately on either side of her as she gave a florid bow, grinning all the time. “But you mere mortals may call me Princess Awesome.”

Lightning rolled his eyes as Rainbow and Pinkie sniggered appreciatively. Lightning cleared his throat. “Please forgive her, she has a heart too merry for the times upon occasion.”

Twilight shook her head. “There’s nothing to forgive in a little bit of fun, even at an auspicious moment such as this. I’m terribly sorry, but I’m afraid that I don’t recognise any of what you’re talking about, Jovians or the Star Legion or the king we overheard you talking about before.”

“That doesn’t surprise me, this is a shield world after all,” Lightning said. “That was the reason for our somewhat dramatic entrance, by the way, for which I apologise; it was the only way for us to enter this world.”

“Shield world?” Twilight repeated, not knowing what Lightning meant by that either. “I don’t suppose that there’s any way that you could start from the beginning and explain who you are and what you’re doing here?”

“Perhaps I could,” Lightning said. “But I’m afraid that I do not really see the point; when our mission is completed Krysta and I will be gone from this place, never to return.”

“But you could at least leave knowledge behind you,” Twilight said. “Just your being here suggests so much, so much that I’d never even thought about before. I appreciate that you aren’t here to pander to my curiosity, and I will help you in your mission. I will get in touch with Princess Celestia-“

“Celestia?” Lightning said sharply. “Did you say Princess Celestia?”

Twilight blinked. “Yes? Have you heard that name before?”

“We’ve never heard of y’all but y’all folks have heard of our princess?” Applejack said.

Lightning and Krysta looked at one another. “Could it be?” Lightning asked.

“No way,” Krysta murmured. “One thousand years of searching and we’ve just found it by accident? What are the odds of that?”

“What are you two talking about?” Twilight asked.

“Celestia is the princess to whom you are a student?” Lightning demanded. “Then this… is this the magical land of Equestria?”

“Yes,” Twilight said. “Wasn’t this where you were intending to end up?”

Lightning and Krysta were both staring at her with such amazement that Twilight took a step backwards. “Equestria,” Lightning repeated in hushed tones, as if it was a name of power to conjure with. “Krysta,” he said, looking at his sister. “This is amazing! Father will be-“

“So proud of you,” Krysta said, punching him lightly on the shoulder. “Everyone is going to be so proud of you. They’ll be singing your name in every hall from New Olympia to… to everywhere. Right across space.” Twilight couldn’t help but notice that she didn’t actually sound as enthusiastic about this as her words might lead one to expect. “Everybody’s going to love you now.”

Lightning, on the other hoof, seemed deaf to her tone. He shook his head. “The personal rewards and acclaim are immaterial, but once we return with this news and the Prism Stone in hoof then…” He seemed to remember the existence of Twilight and the others. “Forgive me, lady Twilight, forgive me all of you, but this is such a momentous occasion that... I quite forgot myself.”

“That’s fine,” Twilight said. “But would you mind explaining why this is such a momentous occasion?”

Lightning frowned. “I had accepted your ignorance as being due to the isolation of a shield world but… you don’t know? How can you not know? If this is Equestria then how can you be ignorant of your own history, of Jupiter and Saturn and the fall of Olympia?”

“The lost city of Olympia?” Twilight said. “That’s a myth.”

“A myth?” Lightning repeated incredulously. “No, it is no myth. My father is Jupiter, lost and yet eternal King of Olympia, once and future consort prince over all Equestria… our promised land.”

Little Sister

Little Sister

When Twilight woke up the next day she found that not only was the light of the sun already drifting in through the crack in the curtains, but Lightning Dawn was gone. He had slept on the floor of the lower level, refusing Twilight’s offer to take the bed – apparently it would have dishonoured him, for reasons that Twilight didn’t quite understand – and so she only found out that he was gone when she trotted downstairs to wish him a good morning.

He had taken off his armour and left it behind, stacked neatly in a sturdy-looking pile in the space between two bookshelves, and he had also left Krysta behind, sleeping on a water bed that Twilight had borrowed from Pinkie – there was only one, and again Lightning had refused to share it with his little sister – and covered in both the spare blankets that Twilight had got out for both her guests. Had he only given her the second as he left, or had she always had both and Lightning had slept both on the hard floor and uncovered?

In any case, she was still asleep, her little arms spread out but still barely touching the edges of the water bed, snoring under the sheets. Twilight decided not to wake her.

She soon found that Lightning had left her a note on the table, one corner slipped under the bust of the unicorn so that it didn’t slip away anywhere. As she levitated it up to get a better look at it Twilight was rather astonished to see how appalling Lightning’s writing was: he wrote in block capitals as though he were trying to chip stone, and at more than one point he had driven his pencil through the paper and into the table beneath, marking it and scratching through the veneer. It wasn’t a big deal by any means, but… well, perhaps Twilight was just being a terrible snob about this but she would have expected a prince to have a more elegant style of writing.

She remembered how impressed he had been by the simple telekinesis of Rarity and herself, how he had explained that he didn’t have the dexterity to move small objects with his magic; that was a little strange, since even though many unicorns did not have Rarity’s finesse when it came to magic moving small objects one at a time was literally the first thing that any unicorn learned when it came to magic - at least in Equestria. However, as unusual as it was it did suggest that he must have written this note with his mouth, something that he was perhaps unfamiliar with doing. Although if he didn’t usually write with either his magic or his mouth then what did he use?

Regardless, block capitals or no he had left her this note not so that she could critique his style but so that she would know where he had gone, so Twilight thought that she really ought to stop judging him – for that, at least; she still felt quite comfortable judging him for the way in which he lapsed into judging her friends – and read it.

DEAR MISS TWILIGHT,

I HAVE GONE TO CALL ON MISS FLUTTERSHY AND BEGIN WORK ON HER DAM AS I PROMISED. AFTERWARDS I WILL COMPLETE MY OTHER PROMISE AND APOLOGISE TO APPLEJACK. I WOULD WELCOME YOUR COMPANY FOR THAT TO SMOOTH THE WAY.

PLEASE HAVE SOMEONE WATCH KRYSTA AND KEEP HER OUT OF TROUBLE. SHE WILL NOT WISH TO COME TO THE FARM AND I DO NOT WISH IT EITHER.

ONCE THAT IS DONE, AND IF THERE IS YET NO REPLY FROM PRINCESS CELESTIA, I SHOULD LIKE TO DISCUSS OUR VISITING HER DIRECTLY.

YOURS,

PRINCE LIGHTNING DAWN.

Twilight set down the note, and wondered how long it had been since Lightning had written that and set out for Fluttershy’s cottage. Surely it could not have been so long; the sun had not been up for a very long time, and he would not have left before the dawn; or would he?

Regardless, he had been clear about where he was going and, remembering the way in which Krysta had acted at the mention of Sweet Apple Acres, Twilight supposed that Lightning was probably right that she wouldn’t want to go there.

Twilight went back upstairs, and felt a twinge of guilt as she nudged Spike awake with one gently prodding hoof.

Spike grunted, snuffled, and rolled over, clutching his blanket a little tighter around him.

“Spike,” Twilight whispered, prodding him again.

Spike rolled back over and opened up one eye. “I guess it’s important, then?” he asked.

Twilight smiled apologetically. “I’m afraid so,” she said. “I’m going down to Fluttershy’s to see how Lightning is getting on there, can you keep an eye on Krysta and let her know where we’ve gone. Lightning left a note as well which she can read if she likes.”

Spike blinked. “He left already?”

“So it seems,” Twilight said. “I guess he wanted to get started.”

Spike climbed out of his basket and stretched his tiny limbs. “And what about you? You’re heading out too?”

“He asked me to join him,” Twilight said. “He wants me there when he heads over to Sweet Apple Acres.”

“Because Applejack is so scary that he needs you there to protect him?” Spike asked.

“He was kind of rude to her,” Twilight said. “I suppose he’s worried about how she’ll react to him just showing up on her farm by himself.”

“I guess,” Spike said. “Although he still doesn’t think much of her, does he?”

Twilight thought about the note on the table, and the way in which Applejack was still, resolutely, Applejack while Twilight and Fluttershy were Miss Twilight and Miss Fluttershy respectively. That kind of attitude wouldn’t likely get him very far with Applejack herself. “Perhaps not,” she admitted. “But at least he’s trying.” She hoped that that would make a difference, at least. “Anyway, I should go.”

“You’re not even going to have breakfast first?” Spike said.

“No,” Twilight said. “Maybe, if it goes well, we can pick something up at Applejack’s, or there’s always Sugarcube Corner.”

“How long do you think you’ll be gone?”

“I’m not sure, but in the meantime keep an eye on Krysta, okay,” Twilight said. “I’ll see you later,” she added, as she trotted down the stairs and quietly opened the door, heading out into Ponyville in the early morning.

The town was quiet, with very few ponies stirring so early as Twilight trotted through the streets and out of the town, heading towards Fluttershy’s cottage. She passed the river, still swollen and overflowing its banks, although thankfully there had been no rain yesterday or last night to cause its level to rise any higher. She made her way along the side of the overflowing stream until she came to Fluttershy’s, the house still threatened by the rising water levels which, if they hadn’t risen, had not dropped down any further from her front door either.

“Fluttershy,” Twilight called as she approached. “Fluttershy, are you in there?”

“Yes,” Fluttershy replied, her voice echoing out of the open door. “Come in, Twilight.”

Twilight walked up to the doorway, but when she looked inside she saw that actually entering would be difficult as the house – the large open living room at least – was crammed with animals, even more so than usual; they filled the room so completely that Twilight could barely see the floor, while the birds were resorting to sitting on the larger animals for want of anywhere else to go.

“Uh, coming in might be a little tricky,” Twilight said.

“I’m sorry,” Fluttershy said, squeezing out of the gap between a bear and a goat. “I’d offer you a cup of tea but there isn’t much room to move around at the moment.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Twilight said. “So they’re all staying with you until the dam gets fixed?”

“Until the river level drops and they can back to their own homes, yes,” Fluttershy said. “Hopefully it won’t take much longer. There’s already a bit of friction starting to develop.” She glanced at Angel, of all the animals the one which came closest to being her pet, who was glowering furiously at a hog sitting in some spot which, Twilight guessed, belonged more usually to Angel. The hog seemed to be taking no notice whatsoever.

Fluttershy walked towards Twilight, who backed away to let Fluttershy come out of the door. “That’s why I’m glad you’re new friend came by so early to start work.”

“Yes, that’s why I came too,” Twilight said. “I woke up and found that he’d left me a note saying that he was coming here.”

“I’ll take you to him,” Fluttershy said, although it wouldn’t have taken a pony of Twilight’s intellect to have known to follow the stream until she came to the dam. Nevertheless she was glad of Fluttershy’s company as the two of them walked, side by side, down the waterway. “So, did you find out a little more about him?” Fluttershy asked.

“He told me plenty,” Twilight said. “I just… I don’t know how much of it to believe.”

“You mean you think he’s lying?” Fluttershy asked uncertainly.

“No,” Twilight said. “I mean, I don’t think he’s lying. That’s what makes all of this so confusing. If I thought that he was just spinning me a yarn then, well, it still wouldn’t make any sense how he got here but it would be something that I could understand. But I think, I’m not living lie detector or anything but I really believe that he believes what he’s saying. Which makes it all the stranger that it seems… unbelievable.”

Fluttershy frowned. “I’m afraid I don’t really understand.”

“Sorry, perhaps I should have told you the story first,” Twilight said. “Except that it is quite a long story.” She sighed. “Fluttershy, what would you do if you found out that the world was so different from what you imagined?”

“How so?”

“Like… like somepony that you thought you knew had a side to them that you’d never even imagined before, or the history that you thought you knew had gaping holes in it,” Twilight said. “Or even that your understanding of what kind of world you lived in was completely inadequate and had to be radically rethought. If everything that Lightning Dawn says is true then… then I feel like I’m in filly kindergarten again.”

“I can see how that might be worrying for you,” Fluttershy said, and it was a testament to Fluttershy’s even tone that she managed to make something that sounded sarcastic passing any other lips sound sincere. “But, for me, the only one that would really bother me would be the first one.”

Twilight looked at her. “Really?”

“If I found out that the people I knew… if I found out that Rarity or Rainbow Dash or you… everything else, I suppose that I’d just have to live with it, and I’d like to think that I could so long as I had all of you girls to help me.” She hesitated. “But how could Lightning Dawn know anything about anypony that you know? Isn’t he a stranger here?”

“He is,” Twilight said. “But he knows, or says he knows, something about Princess Celestia. Could you ever imagine her being in love?”

Fluttershy paused a moment before she said, “I’m afraid I couldn’t say; I don’t know her like you do.”

“I’m starting to wonder if I knew her like I thought I did,” Twilight said. “Like I said: a whole other part of her that I never saw, that I never even knew was there.”

“If she kept something like that from you then I’m sure she had a good reason for it,” Fluttershy said. “But just because the princess has secrets doesn’t mean that you don’t know her at all, or that she doesn’t care about you.”

Twilight looked at her friend, and smiled softly. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

“What for?” Fluttershy asked guilelessly. “So, what are Lightning and Krysta doing here?”

“Looking for a magical treasure to protect their kingdom, apparently.”

“That sounds important,” Fluttershy said. “Does Lightning really have time to help me in that case?”

“I… wouldn’t necessarily have thought so,” Twilight said. “But if he disagrees then who am I to say otherwise.”

“I suppose,” Fluttershy said. “When I asked him how he’d found Ponyville he said that it was lovely… but he seemed very sad when he said it.”

Twilight hesitated, wondering how kindly or otherwise Lightning would take to her revealing his secrets. “He... I’m afraid that you’d have to ask him about that,” she said.

“Of course,” Fluttershy said gently. “We’re almost here.”

She led Twilight down to the dam, which Twilight could see had collapsed in the mid-section, allowing water to pour through the breach and raise the level of the stream. What she could not see, at first, was Lightning Dawn himself, until as they got closer still Twilight saw his head and shoulders emerge from the water, to take a deep breath.

He twisted in the water, catching sight of the pair of them. “Miss Fluttershy, hello again,” he said. “And good morning, Miss Twilight. I see that you were able to read my note.”

“Your writing isn’t that bad,” Twilight said, feeling a little guilty for having thought about it in that way now that Lightning had made clear that he was aware of the issue himself.

“It is comprehensible, at best,” Lightning replied. “Fortunately comprehensible is all that I require it to be.”

“I was surprised to find you up and having come down here so early,” Twilight said.

“I did not wish to prolong the distress of Miss Fluttershy’s wards longer than necessary,” Lightning replied. “Especially since I had a hoof in some of that distress myself.”

“But it wasn’t you who broke the dam,” Fluttershy said. “So it’s very kind of you to come down here and do this.”

“It is no trouble, Miss Fluttershy, but a pleasure,” Lightning said. “There is something wholesome about physical labour, I find. Being able to see the results of your work at the end and knowing that it will last… it is satisfying, in a way that few other things are.” He swam over to the bank of the stream, where a pile of wooden sticks were waiting for him, and picked up a few in his mouth. He swam back over to the centre of the dam, and dived once more beneath the water which, the two of them standing now so close to it, was clear enough for Twilight and Fluttershy to watch as he built them into the dam that he was rebuilding before he rose once more to the surface for air.

“Do you want any help?” Twilight asked, levitating a couple of sticks with her magic to show what he meant.

“I can manage,” Lightning said.

“I’m sure you can, but that’s not what I asked,” Twilight said. “Would you like any help?”

Lightning swam over to the bank again. “You are very kind and generous to offer, Miss Twilight, but for all your deftness with magic I hardly think that this is any kind of work for you.”

Twilight’s eyebrows rose. “Meaning what, exactly?”

“That it is not for the student of the arcane arts, the apprentice of a princess, to do such work as this.”

“Aren’t you a prince?” Twilight asked.

Lightning hesitated. “You… you catch me very well upon the point, Miss Twilight. That being so, this prince would be most honoured and grateful for your assistance.”

Twilight smiled as she splashed into the stream beside him, feeling the cool water lap around and over her, soaking her coat. “Now, I’ve never done anything like this before, so you’ll have to let me know where to- wait, how do you know how to do this?”

“I was not always a prince,” Lightning said. “Nor did I go from Hippolytus to New Olympia in a single move. Krysta and I wandered for some time, from place to place, sometimes even from world to world when we found a naturally occurring portal. When I could I paid our way by doing odd jobs, manual work, that sort of thing. I dug ditches, I chopped wood, I mended roofs and I have built a little dam or too like this upon occasion. As I said, there’s something immensely satisfying about making something like this. Nothing else that I did for our keep ever refreshed me the way that this did.”

“The satisfaction of completing something,” Twilight said, thinking of the feeling of accomplishment she got when all her studies paid off, when she learnt a spell or completed a project and could just step back and admire her own hoof-work.

“Indeed,” Lightning said.

Together, the two of them set to work, with Lightning gesturing to let Twilight know where to place the sticks in the dam; they settled into a good working rhythm, with Lightning handling the larger pieces of wood with his mouth while Twilight, with her ability to manipulate the smaller pieces more deftly, wove them into the gaps to plug up any holes that might otherwise have lingered there or been harder for Lightning alone to stop up. Together they found that they were able to work swiftly, and it seemed as though hardly any time at all had passed before they were done, the dam rising above the level of the water even as said water, its flow reduced to the level allowed by the small gap that Lightning and Twilight had purposefully left in the construction, began to build up once again behind it.

“That should do it,” Lightning said. “Although it may take a little while for all the water already here to dry up and reduce to the level it was at before.”

“I understand,” Fluttershy said. “Still, everyone will be so glad to get back to normal. Thank you both for all your help.”

“We’re just glad that there was something that we could do,” Twilight said, only realising once she’d said it that it was somewhat presumptuous of her to speak for Lightning thus.

“Indeed,” he said, emerging from the water dripping wet. Somehow it seemed to exaggerate not only his muscular form, but also the strange marbled pattern that crossed his coat. Twilight stared at it for a moment, and would have been ashamed of herself for staring – and more than a little embarrassed in case she got caught staring by either Fluttershy or Lightning himself – but it wasn’t just the way that the water exaggerated his rock-hard muscles, his powerful frame, or even the alluringly unusual pattern that defined his appearance, it was also something that she hadn’t quite been able to make out – or at least had been able to tell herself that it was a trick of the water – in the stream. It was the fact that Lightning’s body was not only covered by the various shades of grey that, like marble, mottled his white coat; his body was also covered with scars too. Some of them, Twilight might even say – and this troubled her – most of them were masked by the fact that Lightning’s coat was not a single colour, and the darker shades masked the ugly red of the old injuries so that Twilight had to guess at what the lines really were; it was only where his coat was its base white that she could say with certain that he had red lines upon it, marks where he had been cut, or even cut open judging by how long some of them were. Some, down his legs and across his back, where so long it looked as though he had been sliced open, that all his skin could have been peeled back and then sewn up again if desired.

She couldn’t take her eyes off them, no matter her awareness of how rude it was for her to stare. Who had done this to him? And why? How many scars did he have, and how long had it taken them for him to get them?

Even after all that he had told her did she still not understand the life he led.

Twilight glanced at Fluttershy, and saw that she didn’t seem so surprised; of course, Lightning had been here for a while before Twilight arrived so she had probably seen the scars already. She wondered if Fluttershy had already asked him where and how he come by the wounds, or if she had been too nervous of giving offence to do so.

Lightning glanced at her, but seemed not to notice that she had been staring. “Miss Twilight, would you… would you come with me to Sweet Apple Acres now, where I hope I can make amends for my behaviour. Miss Fluttershy, I will not trespass on you any further.”

“It’s alright,” Fluttershy. “I mean, if you want to go then I won’t keep you, but I’m sure that everyone would like to thank you for your help just as much as I would.”

Lightning bowed his head. “I thank you, Miss Fluttershy, but your own gratitude is quite sufficient.”

Twilight climbed out of the water, and shook a little more of it off herself. “Are you ready to go, then?”

“I am, Miss Twilight.”

“Fluttershy,” Twilight said. “It was good to see you.”

“You too, Twilight,” Fluttershy said. “Come again soon.”

Twilight smiled at her, and then began to lead Lightning across the open country that separated Fluttershy’s cottage from Sweet Apple Acres. Fluttershy stood beside her still swollen stream, watching them go until she became too small to properly make out.

When they had gone so far that they had put a distance between Fluttershy and themselves, and yet were still some way from Sweet Apple Acres, Lightning said, “So, you are curious about my scars, Miss Twilight?”

Twilight let out a squeak of embarrassment. “You, uh, you noticed that, huh?”

“You were not subtle, Miss Twilight, I’m afraid.”

Twilight chuckled nervously. “Well, um, it wasn’t the first thing I noticed…” she felt a flush rising to her cheeks. “But they are very noticeable.”

“Yes,” Lightning said softly. “I suppose they are.”

Twilight waited a moment to see if he would say more, until it became clear that he would not. “Are they… battle scars?”

“Some, but not as many as you might think,” Lightning said, as the two of them kept walking. “My armour keeps me well protected most of the time. It has been pierced once or twice and… you can see the markings on my skin, but… no, most of these were not taken in battle.”

“Then… how-“

“Some come from when I was young,” Lightning said. “During mine and Krysta’s wanderings. Some folk would allow me to earn a little money by doing honest work, odd jobs here and there; we were never welcome for too long, two vagrants as we were and Krysta a fae, but the kindest people, people not unlike those that can be found here in your town, would give us a chance to rest our legs. Others were less kind, and gave me tokens of their esteem before they drove us out.”

Twilight recalled what Krysta had said about Ponyville seeming like the kind of place she and Lightning had been run out of in the past. “I’m sorry,” she murmured.

“It is of little consequence, in the scheme of things,” Lightning replied. “It is… all in the past now. Krysta is safe and we have a home and… so much has changed, since then. I would not want you to think that I wallow in self-pity, Miss Twilight; the truth is that what you may perceive as the worst of these scars, the longest and most visible of them, were done to me with my consent in one of my father’s facilities.”

Twilight’s eyes widened. “You… your father did this to you? And you were okay with that?”

“His Majesty did not perform the surgeries himself,” Lightning corrected her. “His servants did that.”

“Surgeries?” Twilight repeated. “Were you sick?”

“I was weak,” Lightning replied. “I wished to be stronger, to serve my father as a knight. His Majesty, my father the king, bestowed these wings upon me out of his power, but there is more to becoming one of the elite of New Olympia and a paladin of the light than simply gaining wings or a horn or both although that is part of it and the greatest honour in the process.”

“Process?” Twilight said. “There is a process?”

“A process of strengthening,” Lightning said. “Of improvement, of… modification,” Lightning said. “My… I don’t know how much of the science you will understand, Miss Twilight, not because I think that you lack the intelligence to understand but… our science has advanced so much more rapidly than yours has that I’m not sure you have the base knowledge to comprehend. But I am a changed pony, transformed by that same science and by all the technological fruits said science has yielded. My bones are stronger, my muscles are tougher, I can run faster, strike harder; and onto my strengthened bones have been grafted metal braces to increase my strength and speed, my ability to take hits without suffering fractures; those are the scars you see on my legs and back.”

“It sounds… did it hurt?” Twilight said.

“Very much so,” Lightning admitted. “I cried out in pain. But at the same time… I knew that it would all be worthwhile because at the end of it all, out of the pain, I would gain the power to protect Krysta, to protect my new home and my new family.” He paused. “Some of the procedure can only be done at a very young age; those who give their children to the Star Legion do so from that young age, honoured to send their colts and fillies to be trained to join the elite.”

“What if the children themselves don’t want it?” Twilight asked.

“No one forces them to become knights,” Lightning said. “At the end of their training they can walk away, if they wish. None will… no, that is not quite true, many will think less of them but, nevertheless, it is a choice available to them.”

Do something you don’t want or be shamed throughout the whole world, Twilight thought. Some choice.

“I was almost too old to venture on that road,” Lightning said. “At my age there was a risk I could have… become seriously ill from it, a risk that increases the older you become. My father was not sure to risk me, but I cried at the thought of being denied more than I ever did from any of the procedures until he relented, and agreed to let me take the risk.”

“Why?” Twilight asked. “Why would you risk yourself like that, put yourself through so much?”

“Because I have something that I would die to protect,” Lightning said. He shook his head. “Those are words easily said, but even if they are meant… what does dying do to protect the things that you hold dear? How long will they last once you have died if you dying accomplishes nothing actually protect them. There are things that I would die to protect, but that being so why should I not run the risk of death in order to gain the power to actually protect them, to keep them safe, to triumph over those who would do harm to that which is precious to me?”

“Krysta?” Twilight ventured.

“Amongst other things, and of all things the most precious to my heart,” Lightning agreed. “I… I confess it bothers me sometimes that she doesn’t seem to appreciate that.”

“Appreciate that,” Twilight said. “Or appreciate the sacrifices that you’ve made for her?”

Lightning was silent for a moment. “Put like that it seems very selfish.”

“I’m sure that she appreciates everything that you’ve done for her,” Twilight said. “And everything that you do.”

“Perhaps,” Lightning murmured. “So why do I feel as though I’m never doing enough?”

He didn’t say anything else for the rest of the journey to Sweet Apple Acres, as the two of them walked along the edge of the Apple Family property until they came to the front gate, and then followed the path through the orchards towards the farm itself. Lightning didn’t seem very comfortable; to the extent that he had seemed at ease around Fluttershy, and on the journey here, he seemed to lose that comfort on the dirt track through the apple orchards, seeming more and more tense the closer they got to the barn and farmhouse.

Twilight would have asked him what was wrong, but before she could Applejack emerged from out of said farmhouse and began to approach them at a brisk pace.

“Howdy there, Twilight,” she said. “Good to see you.” Her eyes narrowed a little as she looked at Lightning. “On the other hoof, I’m surprised to see you here, your highness. I thought a place like this was a little too boring for you.”

Lightning, to his credit in Twilight’s opinion, seemed abashed by her criticism. “Yes, well, I… I owe you an apology for the way that I behaved yesterday. It was condescending of me, and discourteous. I should have… I should have been more polite about my desire not to come anywhere near this place with Krysta.”

Possibly you could have phrased that worse but I’m not entirely sure how, Twilight thought.

Applejack pushed her hat back on her head for a moment. “Nice of you to come all the way down here to tell me that you don’t want to be here, I suppose,” she said bitingly.

Lightning scowled. “I… that was not very well said, either. I… I know that you must think that I am nought but a proud and haughty snob, but…Krysta and I have good reasons for not liking places like this. We… do not have very many good memories associated with them.”

“Really?” Applejack asked. “I don’t see why that should have any bearing on me and mine, but… I guess these things ain’t always rational. You could have just told me that you didn’t like farms very much instead of getting all high and mighty on me like I was just dirt under your hoof.”

“That is why I came to apologise,” Lightning said. “Miss Twilight assures me that you are a mare of many virtues, and your work is vital and… and I have no doubt that you are a true salt of the earth mare and a pillar of this place. I am sorry for having suggested otherwise. Please forgive me.”

Twilight noted that he did not bow his head to her, as he had to Fluttershy, but Applejack seemed not to notice, or at least to be prepared to overlook, the classism in the way in which he treated her differently to the rest of Twilight’s friends. She just looked him up and down for a moment. “Well, I guess it is good of you to come down here and say that to my face, even if I guess that Twilight had something to do with it, ain’t that right sugarcube?”

Twilight turned away as Lightning muttered. “Miss Twilight… did press me a little on this point.”

“I thought so,” Applejack said, with a degree of amusement in her rich, southern voice. “Anyway, thank you kindly. Now, if you don’t mind I’ve got some work to do and I guess you don’t really want to stick around here anyway.”

“Not particularly,” Lightning said.

“Then we understand each other pretty well, I think,” Applejack said. “Twilight, you’re always welcome, you know that.”

“Of course,” Twilight said, deciding not to ask about staying for breakfast since Applejack was clearly busy and Lightning was clearly still uncomfortable. As Applejack turned away she said, instead, “So, would you like to get something to eat at Sugarcube Corner? Pinkie does some mean waffles.”

Lightning considered it for a moment. “That… that sounds delightful, but I couldn’t ask you to keep-“

“It’s no trouble about the bits,” Twilight said. “Come on, it’s not that much. I wouldn’t offer if it was too much for me.”

Lightning hesitated. “Then… thank you, Miss Twilight.”

As they turned to go, heading back up the path towards the exit from the farm, Twilight said, “So… you don’t like farms.”

“I… as I said, Miss Twilight, Krysta and I were not always treated with kindness by those we came across in our wanderings,” Lightning said. “I confess that, sometimes, I would steal from their fields in order to feed us, but only when I could not earn any money to come by food honestly. The farmers rarely appreciated the distinction. We were chased by dogs, set upon…” Lightning fell silent, for a little while at least. “I tried to take the brunt of it; I would rarely allow Krysta to come with me to raid fields or orchards in case we were caught but, on one occasion, a particularly irate and vicious farmer did catch us, he tied me up and… and he began to beat Krysta.”

“I’m sorry,” Twilight said. “But Applejack isn’t like that, not at all. None of the Apples are. They’re the most welcoming and warm-hearted ponies you could ever hope to meet.”

“Even to those that try to steal from them?”

“I think that if Applejack found a young homeless pony trying to take apples to feed himself and his sister because they had nowhere else to go then they would invite them inside and give them a meal and a place by the fire,” Twilight said. “That’s just the kind of pony that Applejack is.”

“Then I am truly sorry for having traduced her so,” Lightning said. “But in my experience very few farmers are so welcoming or so free with their resources. I thought he was going to kill Krysta. In my nightmares… I hear her cries for help ringing in my ears while I, bound, am powerless to aid her.”

“But he didn’t,” Twilight said. “He didn’t kill her.”

“No,” Lightning growled. “No, he didn’t. I…” his horn, his golden horn that was so unlike the rest of him, began to glow brighter; Lightning noticed this, and scowled, and seemed to be making an effort to master his magic because, after a moment, the glow faded. “I apologise,” he said. “That happens when I… I normally keep it under control.”

“Why do I get the feeling that there is something that you’re not telling me?” Twilight said.

“Because I have not reached the end of the story,” Lightning admitted. “I… what you just saw was the stirrings of the solaforce, the fire of heaven, a magic both exceedingly rare and exceedingly powerful, destructive… a gift I was unaware of until that brute hog-tied me and forced me to watch as he threatened the only person in the world, in all the worlds I had seen whom I… I didn’t even know what I was doing but in my desire to protect her, in my inability to do anything else and, yes, in my desire to punish him for his brutality I unleashed that power. I turned him to ash before my very eyes.”

Twilight’s eyes were very wide on hearing this. “You… you killed him?”

“His Majesty found us not long after,” Lightning said. “Apparently my use of the solaforce was like a beacon to him.”

“You killed him?” Twilight repeated. “You just… you killed someone?”

“You knew that I was a warrior,” Lightning said. “Did you think that I had no lives upon my conscience?”

“I… that’s not the same thing!” Twilight cried, although it was a thing about which she had preferred not to think. “You’re not talking about fighting on the battlefield, you’re talking about murder.”

“Murder?” Lightning responded, with a touch of outrage in his voice which soon ebbed away like the tide. “Perhaps,” he conceded. “Perhaps I am, but… I do not regret it. I would do it all again for Krysta’s sake. I would do… anything for her.”

Twilight stared at him silently, unsure of what to say. Assuming that he was telling the truth – and she thought he was – then she could hardly say that he had acted wrongly, exactly, in protecting his sister but at the same time… to kill someone, to burn them alive until there was nothing left… surely it was wrong to talk so calmly about that, to not even show a sliver of regret for having done it.

She had no idea what to say. She had no idea even of what to think about what Lightning had just told her. Twilight had no idea what she was supposed to say next.

Fortunately she was spared having to work out just what she ought to say next by the arrival of Rainbow Dash, who descended out of the sky to land in front of them.

“Twilight,” she said. “Fluttershy said that I might find the two of you here. Some guy just arrived on the train from Canterlot looking for… well, looking for both of you actually.”

“Did Princess Celestia send them?” Twilight asked.

“Maybe, I don’t know,” Rainbow said. “I told him that I’d find you and tell you about him. He says he’s your brother?”

Spike was dusting the library, wearing his pink apron as he waved his feather duster around the place, banishing all signs of dust from immediate view, when a stirring in the middle of the room alerted him to the fact that Krysta was waking up.

He turned around as she stirred, stretching her arms out on either side as she fluttered her bright blue eyes and rolled off the water bed. The blanket fell on top of her, covering her head as she moved around underneath it like some kind of creature emerging from a swamp. She moved. She stopped. She lay down on the floor as if she was considering going back to sleep. She moved again. She emerged from underneath the blanket slowly, like a butterfly coming out of the cocoon.

“That was surprisingly comfortable,” Krysta said, as much to herself as anyone else. She caught sight of Spike. “Morning Spike,” she said. Her eyes lingered upon his apron, but she didn’t comment on it. Instead she looked around the library. “Where’s Lightning?” she asked, her voice a mixture of slight nervousness and a degree of irritation.

“He went out early, before me or Twilight woke up,” Spike said. “I think he went down to Fluttershy’s place. Twilight went out after him not too long ago. There’s a note he left for you over there.” He pointed with one clawed hand to the table.

Krysta got up, yawning and stretching as she did so, and fluttered her gossamer wings gently behind her as she made her way over to the table, where Lightning’s letter waited on the table.

She picked it up, her eyes flickering back and forth as she scanned the contents.

“Keep me out of trouble!” she yelled. “Keep me out of trouble, what am I, six years old? Seriously, he treats me like I’m a child! I’m fourteen years old, I can take care of myself!” she scrunched the letter up into a ball and flung it onto the ground. “One of these days, I… one of these days I am going to totally save his life and then he’s going to have to get down on his knees and admit that I was totally awesome all along and he just couldn’t see it. That’ll show him.”

“Sure it will,” Spike said evenly, as he picked up the ball of paper and put it tidily in the waist paper basket. “Do you want anything to eat? I was thinking about taking a break to make breakfast anyway.”

“Taking a break… to make me a meal?” Krysta said.

“I’m going to have some too,” Spike said.

“Right, but still…” Krysta said. “Do you know when Lightning and Twilight are going to get back?”

“No, sorry,” Spike said. “Twilight doesn’t tell me a lot of stuff like that. She goes off on adventures and I get to stay here and-“

“Worry,” Krysta finished for him. She smiled sympathetically. “I totally-“ She was interrupted by a rumbling in her stomach, causing her to laugh nervously. “You know, maybe breakfast wouldn’t be a bad idea after all.”

Spike grinned. “What would you like? Waffles or pancakes?”

“Uh, you’re making it, so you decide,” Krysta said.

Spike thought about it for a moment. “Okay then, pancakes.”

He waddled into the kitchen and set to work, with Krysta following behind him. She sat down in a stool in the corner and watched him get the flour down out of the cupboard. “I’d offer to help, but… I think I’d just get in your way.”

“It’s okay,” Spike said, breaking an egg and dropping into the pan. “I’ve done this lots of times.”

“Right,” Krysta said. “So… do you do all the cooking and cleaning up around here?”

“Yup,” Spike said. “Well, saying that I do all the cooking… a lot of the time we go out to eat, either at a restaurant or to Applejack’s or Sugarcube Corner, or sometimes Rarity invites us round, and last week Fluttershy-“

“But Twilight never does it,” Krysta said.

Spike hesitated. “No,” he said, after a moment’s thought. “Twilight doesn’t cook.”

“And you do all the cleaning up?” Krysta said.

“Yeah. This isn’t a huge place,” Spike said. He measured out one half-tablespoon of baking powder and two tablespoons of caster sugar. “Why? Are you surprised?”

“A little, I guess,” Krysta said. “Where I come from we have a helot who does all of our cleaning up around the place. And in the palace, Lightning dines with the King and his guests in the great hall, where more helots do all the cooking; he gets them to bring stuff up for me as well, and sometimes he eats with me, like he used to.”

Spike blinked. He had never heard the word ‘helot’ before. “What’s a helot?”

“Someone who works for the King, Lightning’s father,” Krysta said. “And he puts them to work for… anyone he likes.”

“So… servants?”

“Yeah,” Krysta said. “Only they don’t work for the people they work for, they work for the King; he just sends them to work for other people as… kind of a reward.”

“Why don’t they just get their own servants?”

“They do,” Krysta said. “But having the King give you some helots… it shows you’re a big shot and his majesty cares about you. That’s why he gave his son a helot to take care of our room.”

Spike… kind of got it, but he supposed that every place had its own idiosyncratic local customs, a fact that he was sure Twilight would be happy to expound upon for him at length if he ever had trouble sleeping. But he got the main point, which was that Krysta and Lightning had a servant to take care of them which meant that they didn’t have to trouble themselves with things like the cooking and the cleaning. “I’m not Twilight’s servant,” he said defensively.

“I never said you were,” Krysta said, as guileless as Spike had been defensive. “Although I’m kind of surprised that you don’t have a servant, what with Twilight being the princess’ student and all.”

“Twilight doesn’t need a servant because she’s got…” Spike trailed off.

Krysta leaned forward, resting her chin on the palms of her hands. “Because she’s got you, right?”

Spike nodded. “Twilight… Twilight was there when I hatched.” He turned away from the in-progress pancakes – he hadn’t actually started cooking yet, so they’d be fine – and clutched his claws together. “I don’t know where I came from, or how Princess Celestia ended up with my egg.”

“Did you ever ask her?”

“No,” Spike said. “I don’t… I don’t want Twilight to think that I…”

“She’s the only sister you need, right?” Krysta said. “The only family you need.”

“Well, there is her brother,” Spike said. “He’s pretty cool. And then her Mom and Dad, too; and Princess Celestia was like another mother to both of us. But… yeah, I get what you’re saying. I’d hate for Twilight to think that I don’t think of her as my family because she totally is. She takes care of me, and she always has. And so… the reason I do all the work around here is because I like to… to take care of her a little bit too.”

Krysta nodded. “I get it,” she said. “I totally get it.”

“You do?”

“Sure,” Krysta said. “You want to be useful, right?”

“I don’t know how useful I am,” Spike said. “Twilight saved the world the first night we came here, and all I do is clean up.”

“At least you’re doing something,” Krysta said. “At least you get to do something. This is the first time that Lightning has ever let me come on a mission with him.”

“It is?”

“Yeah,” Krysta said. “Before he’s always said that it’s too dangerous, that he can’t be distracted by having me around, that I wouldn’t be able to take things seriously enough. When we were kids we were always together, but ever since we came to live in New Olympia it’s like… it’s like we’re drifting farther and farther apart. He became a knight, he serves the King, and he’s always going off to fight on some distant planet or be part of some diplomatic mission and I… I get left behind every time.”

“I know what that feels like,” Spike murmured.

“But at least you get to clean up to take your mind off things,” Krysta said. “I can’t even do that because we have a servant doing all the work! That’s why I begged Lightning to let me come with him on this trip, I didn’t care how dangerous it was, we went through plenty of dangerous stuff when we were little. I just want to be with him, to face things alongside him because he’s… he’s all I’ve got. And so I wanted this to be the two of us, against the world the way it used to be.” She sighed dispiritedly.

“He’ll be back,” Spike said. “I’m sure he and Twilight will be back from Fluttershy’s any minute now.”

“Yeah,” Krysta said. “Maybe. Hey, Spike?”

“Yeah?”

“This seems like a pretty nice place,” Krysta said.

“It totally is,” Spike said. “It’s one of the nicest places in Equestria. Although I haven’t actually lived in that many places in Equestria, so I don’t know if that’s really true or if I just think it is.”

Krysta grinned. “Well, it seems plenty nice to me.” She hesitated for a moment. “If… if something happened and we couldn’t go home, do you think Twilight would let us stay with you guys?”

Spike stared at her. “Why wouldn’t you be able to go home?”

“I don’t know,” Krysta said. “Stuff happens, it’s magic. It breaks all the time.”

That wasn’t particularly the case in Spike’s experience, but he decided to go with it nonetheless. “I guess… certainly Twilight would never throw you with no place to go, but whether you could stay forever… I don’t know; would you even want to?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Krysta said. “We could go travelling, like we used; I bet there are a lot of places out there to see.”

“There sure are,” Spike said. “There’s Canterlot and Manehattan, Baltimare, Fillydelphia, if you keep going south you’ll reach Saddle Arabia and the zebra country… hey, Krysta?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you not want to go home?”

Krysta was silent for a moment. “My home is wherever Lightning Dawn is,” she said after a moment. “As to what if we couldn’t go back to his home… that wouldn’t be so bad. Provided that he could get over it.”

“But… aren’t you a princess back where you come from?”

Krysta laughed bitterly. “No,” she said. “No, Lightning is a prince, but I’m not a princess.”

“Even though you’re his sister?”

“That… okay, here’s how it works,” Krysta said. “Lightning and I are brother and sister of the spirit. We’ve been through a lot together, we’ve shared stuff that… he is my other half, and I couldn’t leave him even if I wanted to. But… there’s nothing formal there. We’re not part of the same family on a piece of paper or anything like that. And he was adopted by the King of Kings, I wasn’t; I’m just a ward of the court, so I live in the palace but I’m not part of the royal family. And everybody knows it, too.”

Spike thought back to something that Krysta had said. “Is that why you don’t eat in the dining hall?”

“Got it in one, Spike, you’re pretty smart,” Krysta said. “I eat in my room so that I won’t embarrass anybody with my presence. Lightning… he’s the only one in that whole place who puts up with me. The only one who actually… who actually wants me around. For now, anyway.”

“I’m sorry,” Spike said, feeling as though the words were inadequate as soon as they left his mouth. “I… I don’t really know what to say about that except… except that if Lightning really cares about you then… then he won’t ever stop wanting you. Twilight would be able to say that so much better, because she always knows just what to say, but I think that the point would be that your friends never stop being your friends just because people around you try to tell you that shouldn’t be friends any more. And I bet that goes for family too.”

Krysta stared at him for a moment. “You might not have said that the best, but thanks, Spike. That… I’d like to believe that. I just wish that we could be together more often. Lightning thinks that what he’s doing is important, fighting for the light against the darkness, but if it is then why can’t I help him out with it?”

Spike frowned. “If you don’t fight then why do you have a sword?”

“Because I’m hoping that Lightning will change his mind one day,” Krysta said. “I’m kinda hoping that he’ll change his mind about a lot of things, to be honest.”

Spike was quiet for a moment. “I… I don’t what to say. I can’t really help with any of this stuff. All I can do is… make breakfast.”

Krysta smiled. “And I’m sure that it will taste really great.”

There was a knock at the door.

“Right after you get that,” Krysta said.

Spike made his way to the door, and opened it. He was surprised to find Shining Armour standing there, wearing the armour of the Captain of the Royal Guard.

“Hey there, Spike,” he said. “Is Twilight around? And is her new visitor here as well?”

Twilight and Lightning arrived back at the library to find Shining Armour, dressed in all his panoply of office as Captain of the Royal Guard - but also wearing a pair of saddlebags across his back - had preceded them there and was waiting, along with Spike and Krysta.

“Twily!” he said, turning at the sound of their hoofsteps upon the library floor. “It’s good to see you again.”

“You too,” Twilight said, as she approached her big brother for a hug. His leg was warm, but his armour was cold and hard against her coat, and the embrace did not last long. “But I don’t understand what you’re doing here.”

“I wish I could say that it was a social call to you and Spike,” Shining Armour said. “But unfortunately that’s not the case. This is official business.”

“At the risk of sounding incredibly presumptuous,” Lightning murmured, as he closed the library door behind him. “I would guess that that official business concerns Krysta and myself.”

“Hi, by the way,” Krysta said, the sarcasm of her tone matching that of her wave to Lightning. “Good morning, bro. I have to say that because it’s the first time I’ve seen you since I woke up seeing as how you got up and went off without me!”

“Krysta, not now,” Lightning said, not taking his eyes off Shining Armour.

“Yes now! You always do this and it always-“

“I said not now,” Lightning said, with steel in his tone, his voice a cudgel that would brook neither opposition nor dissent. And still his golden eyes remained fixed on Shining Armour. There was a kind of fire in them that made Twilight want to get out of the way of that gaze.

Krysta fell silent; she pursed her lips together, making them look thinner. She glanced from Lightning to Shining Armour, and began to move away from the flatter.

“Krysta, come over here,” Lightning said, and it was only at that point – as Krysta began to move towards her own brother – that Twilight understand what it was that she was seeing in Lightning’s behaviour: wariness.

For his part, Shining Armour seemed a little stiffer than normal as well. Twilight looked from one to the other, both sets of eyes locked upon one another, sparing not a glance for her.

“I think you’re probably right,” Shining Armour said. “If you are Lightning Dawn then yes, my visit here concerns you.”

“Prince Lightning Dawn, if it please you sir,” he said, in a tone of brittle courtesy. “My sister you appear to have met already.”

“She was here when I arrived,” Shining Armour said. “It was only natural to check Twilight’s home first when looking for her and her guests.”

“Naturally,” Lightning said softly. “And yet – beyond knowing that you are Miss Twilight’s brother – it has left you with an advantage over me.”

“Shining Armour,” Shining Armour said, approaching Lightning – walking past Twilight as he did so – and extending one hoof.

Lightning glanced at the hoof, but did not take it. Rather he bowed his head respectfully. “A pleasure to meet you. Your sister is charming, courteous and very helpful to a pair of travellers, somewhat lost and confused in a strange place.”

“Twilight is all that and much more,” Shining Armour said. “We’re all very fond of her.”

“Trust me, sir, as a fellow elder brother I know exactly what you’re saying,” Lightning said, to which Twilight could only wish that she knew what her BBBFF – Big Brother Best Friend Forever - was saying. “I can only assure you that my intentions, to your sister as to this world, are as peaceful and innocent as a newborn lamb.”

“Is that right?” Shining Armour murmured.

Lightning did not reply for a moment. Rather, instead he glanced Shining Armour – all clad in his purple armour – up and down. “Permit me to presume once again and, by your dress, guess you to be a soldier.”

“I’m the Captain of the Royal Guard,” Shining Armour said. He glanced at Lightning’s own armour, stacked up by the wall. “But this is a peaceful land, and I’m not sure that what we do is what you would call soldiering.”

Lightning smiled thinly. “In my own home there are those who play at soldiering; they wear armour, or at least something in the fashion of a uniform, and in that garb they swagger about seeking acclaim for the valour they have never displayed and the skill they have never acquired. You, captain, do not stand as they do. I think that you are not a stranger to combat. And you have no need to try and make me underestimate you, as I told you my intentions are innocent.”

“Shining Armour,” Twilight said. “What’s going on?”

“Princess Celestia sent me,” Shining Armour, and though he might have been talking to Twilight his attentions remained fixed upon Lightning Dawn.

“Why didn’t she just reply to my letter?” Twilight asked.

“There’s a lot that can be missed in an exchange of letters,” Shining Armour said softly.

“If Princess Celestia wishes to speak with me then she need only send the word,” Lightning Dawn. His voice acquired a touch of reverence as he added, “I would be honoured to stand in her presence.”

“For now, Princess Celestia would prefer you to talk to me,” Shining Armour said.

Lightning looked a little affronted to hear that, but as Twilight watched his face she could see the look disappearing as either he mastered his discontent or at least pushed it down where it could no longer be seen. “Very well,” he said.

Shining Armour took a step backwards. “What are you doing here?”

Lightning glanced past Shining Armour to look at Twilight. “You did not tell Princess Celestia of our quest for the Prism Stone?”

“No, I put that in my letter,” Twilight said.

Lightning’s eyes narrowed. “Then what else is there to say upon the matter?”

“Humour me,” Shining Armour said. “Please.”

Lightning’s mouth tightened. “You may tell Princess Celestia that if she considers her own student a liar then she not only maligns her own judgement but a true and honest maid, ill-deserving to be slandered so. Since I, after a mere day’s acquaintance, can glimpse Miss Twilight’s quality then I must confess myself astonished that Princess Celestia, far-famed for her peerless wisdom, cannot see it after a far longer acquaintance. And though you are her brother it sits ill with me to see her honour impugned so.”

Twilight felt one corner of her lip twitching upwards, almost in spite of itself, at Lightning’s fulsome praise of her. It… she found it warmed her more than she had thought it would.

“Princess Celestia trusts Twilight completely,” Shining Armour said, the emphasis he placed upon his sister’s name giving no doubt as to what he meant. “And we don’t need a stranger to tell us of the quality that we recognise already.”

“In which case, if Princess Celestia wishes to call me a liar then I would thank her to do so in person,” Lightning replied. “I am a prince, and not in the habit of having my integrity and sacred honour questioned by mere functionaries.”

Shining Armour was silent for a moment. “So you’ve got nothing else to say about that?”

“Not to you, captain,” Lightning said. “Is there anything else?”

“A few things,” Shining Armour said. “The way that you came here, can it be used again?”

“A reverse portal will be opened in six days time,” Lightning said. “It will allow Krysta and I to return home.”

“Why in six days time?”

“These things must be set in advance, they cannot be activated upon a whim,” Lightning said. “Or rather they could be, but with no way of communicating with my home how would they know when the right time was to activate it? Thus, these things are planned ahead of time so that there is no danger of the rendezvous being missed.”

“And once you go home,” Shining Armour said. “Will you be able to come back?”

Lightning glanced at Twilight. “I should like to, but… not via portal, if that is what you mean. I have no idea where this world is, cosmically speaking, and without the signature of a Prism Stone to latch onto there is no way of opening a portal here. I would need to find this world from the outside, as it were, and even then there remains the question of the defences of the Shield World that would prevent our landing. It is the great quest of my people to find this world but… although I have found it, I have not done so in such a way that will let me lead us back here.” He bowed his head, and Twilight thought that he did so not out of respect but out of shame at himself for not meeting the standards that he demanded of himself.

Judging by the way that Krysta placed a hand upon his marbled shoulder and started rubbing it, she seemed to think so as well.

Once again, Shining Armour held his peace a moment. “I… I see,” he said softly. His horn glowed, as with his magic he opened up his saddlebag and produced a familiar pair of golden tickets. “There is a party being held the day after tomorrow, in Canterlot, called the Grand Galloping Gala. Twilight and all her friends are already going. These are your tickets, to get you in. During the party, Princess Celestia will see you both – and you, Twilight – in private.”

“Princess Celestia does not wish our arrival to be noticed so she will have us come during the party where we will be masked by the other guests,” Lightning said.

“Mhmm,” Shining Armour murmured. “For that reason it would be best if you could dress appropriately.” He glanced at Krysta. “And if you were… discreet.”

Krysta sighed. “Discreet. Great. Because I just love discretion.”

“Krysta, would you get those tickets,” Lightning said softly.

Krysta snatched the tickets from the grip of Shining Armour’s telekinesis.

“What of our quest for the Prism Stone?” Lightning asked.

“Princess Celestia will discuss that with you at the gala,” Shining Armour said.

“By the time of this gala I will be on the fourth of my seven days here,” Lightning protested.

“Princess Celestia told me to tell you not to worry,” Shining Armour said. “Once you meet with her everything will become clear, and you will have nothing to worry about.”

Lightning frowned. His eyes narrowed. “I must confess I do not see the need for the secrecy that Princess Celestia is employing,” he said. “Nor do I appreciate it. Nevertheless, recognising that she is Princess Celestia, whose renown has spread beyond the stars, I will obey her will in this. Tell the princess that she shall find me at the gala, most eager to stand in her presence.”

“I’m sure she’ll be glad to hear that,” Shining Armour said, in a neutral tone. “That’s my mission completed. Twilight, would you mind walking with me back to the train station?”

“Uh, sure,” Twilight said, as Lightning and Krysta got out of the way for the pair of them. Twilight’s horn flared briefly as she opened the door and she and her brother – he leading and she going after, as the doorway was too narrow for both of them, especially with Shining Armour in his, well, armour – made their way out and into Ponyville in the sunshine.

Twilight shut the door behind her. Only then did she ask, “What was that about?”

“I was doing my job, Twily,” Shining Armour said as they made their way in the direction of the railway station.

“I didn’t know interrogation had become a part of your job.”

“My job is whatever Princess Celestia says my job is,” Shining Armour said. “I go where she tells me and I do what she tells me.” He glanced at her. “And that was hardly an interrogation.”

“It certainly wasn’t a friendly conversation,” Twilight replied.

“No,” Shining Armour admitted. “I guess it wasn’t.”

They walked in silence for a moment or two. “So what’s going on?”

“I don’t know.”

“Come on, Shining Armour,” Twilight said. “Princess Celestia doesn’t send you down here every time she gets a letter from me. Why not just send me a reply? Why not write to me and tell me that she was sending you? And why did you need to give Lightning Dawn the once over like that?”

“I don’t know,” Shining Armour replied. “And that’s not me being coy, Twilight, that’s me being honest with my little sister. All I know is what she told me: go to Ponyville, talk to this Lightning Dawn guy, ask these questions, get the measure of him.”

Twilight’s eyes narrowed. “Is that really all you know?”

Shining Armour was silent.

“Shining-“

“Okay,” Shining Armour said. He shook his head. “I was in the throne room when she got your letter. I was supervising shift change. I don’t know if you know this, and don’t let it go to your head, but when Princess Celestia gets a letter from you her face lights up. It doesn’t matter what she’s doing, how bored or busy she is – and I know all this because the guys tell me so, they think it’s kind of funny – she gets this look when she gets one of your letters, like hearing from you the highlight of her day.” He smiled at her. “Maybe it is. Neither I nor the princess needs Prince Lightning Dawn to tell us how special you are, you know that, right?”

Twilight tried – but didn’t quite manage – to hide the blush on her cheeks. “What’s your point?”

“The point is that when she actually read that letter… it was like someone had died. I was worried that something had happened to you, I couldn’t help but ask the princess if something was wrong. She told me that it was nothing, but she had this look… a grey look, like all the colour was gone. Then she announced that she was retiring to her room, had Princess Luna summoned there, and ordered that she was not to be disturbed by anyone else. I spoke to the guards on the door, they told me that before Princess Luna arrived they could hear Princess Celestia pacing up and down, muttering to herself; and after Princess Luna arrived… apparently they spent the whole afternoon and the whole of the night talking. Neither of them was seen by anypony until the next morning.”

“Because of what I wrote?” Twilight asked. “Because of Lightning Dawn?”

Shining Armour nodded gravely. “I think that Princess Celestia is worried, Twily. I don’t know what she’s worried about but I’d bet a year’s salary on it.”

Worried? Worried by what? Twilight had never known Princess Celestia to be worried about anything. Admittedly the kind of behaviour that Shining Armour had just described did sound as though it fit the word ‘worried’ but at the same time… this was Princess Celestia, she was always calm and always composed and she always had an answer even if she didn’t necessarily share it with you.

This doesn’t sound like the behaviour of somepony who just found out that the love of their life has been searching for them all this time.

But it doesn’t sound any more like Celestia than that did.

“And for what it’s worth,” Shining Armour said. “I’m a little worried too.”

“Why?” Twilight asked.

“Because what he said is right,” Shining Armour said. “You can tell the difference between a dilettante dressing up and a professional. And he… he’s a warrior, Twilight, I can see it in the way he bears himself, the way he stands.”

“I’ve seen the scars, I have eyes.”

“It’s more than just the scars,” Shining Armour. “He’s given as good as he’s gotten or I’ll be amazed.”

“I know what he is,” Twilight said. “He told me he was a warrior.”

“And that doesn’t scare you?” Shining Armour said. “It scares me, having someone like that so close to you, sleeping in the same house as you.”

“You think he’s dangerous.”

“I think he could be.”

“Well I don’t,” Twilight said. “He’s been… he’s been rude at times, certainly, but never violent. He may be a soldier of some kind, a knight as he calls himself, but I haven’t seen anything from him that suggests that he has the capacity to do what you’re implying. He’s been quite… courteous.”

“You just said he was rude.”

“He’s been rude to other ponies,” Twilight clarified. “Which is far from ideal, but to me he’s always been quite polite. I’m afraid to say that I think it’s a class thing.”

“I got that impression,” Shining Armour said. “Just… be careful, okay, Twily. I don’t want to see you get hurt. Nopony wants to see you get hurt.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know,” Shining Armour said, rubbing her head with one hoof. “But I worry about you anyway. Probably always will.”

Twilight smiled as she got away from his hoof. “So what are you going to tell Celestia?”

“I’m going to tell her what happened, and what he said,” Shining Armour said. “I don’t know what she’ll make of it, and that’s not up to me.” He smiled. “It was good to see you, Twilight.”

“You’ve barely seen me, and I’ve barely seen you,” Twilight said. “Are you sure that you can’t stick around?”

“Sorry,” Shining Armour said. “Celestia told me to complete my mission and report back as soon as possible. She must have suspected that we might stop and catch up otherwise.”

“She does see a lot of things coming,” Twilight said. “It is nice to see you, if only for a few minutes.”

“Next time we’ll try and make it longer, I promise,” Shining Armour said. “Twily, you’re happy here, right?”

“I’ve never been happier,” Twilight said. “No offence.”

Shining Armour chuckled. “None taken,” he said. “I’m glad you’ve found your place. It’s good to know that you know where you belong.”

Twilight walked him back to the station, watched him board the next train back to Canterlot, and then waved to him as the train carried him away towards the capital, until it was so far away that he couldn’t possibly still see her.

And as she watched, and as the train disappeared from view, one single question was upmost in the mind of Twilight Sparkle: just what in Equestria was going on that she wasn’t being told about?

Dinner Talk

Dinner Talk

“He’s a killer?” Rainbow Dash yelled, spraying crumbs from her sandwich all over the table and her friends. “Like… an actual killer?”

“Darling, please,” Rarity said, her horn flaring blue as she used her telekinesis to expertly pick the crumbs out of her mane. “This is hardly acceptable dinner table conversation.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, what should we be talking about, the weather?” Rainbow demanded. “I just moved a few clouds around today; what I didn’t do was meet anypony who had killed anypony else before! How did you do on that count, Twilight?”

“Well there’s no need to be facetious about it,” Rarity muttered.

“Because that’s something anypony wants to talk about at dinner?” Rainbow replied.

Rarity rolled her eyes. “Facetious, dear, it means flippant, mocking, not… that.”

At Twilight’s request, Fluttershy had been kind enough to invite everypony around for dinner so that they could discuss everything that Twilight had learned about Lightning Dawn and about Celestia’s reaction to him, as described to her by Shining Armour; and so, the sun having set and the moon having risen over Ponyville and Equestria, the six friends - Spike had stayed behind to keep an eye on Lightning and Krysta, a good service for which Twilight hoped he could forgive her asking - had gathered in Fluttershy’s living room, squatting on the ground around a long table that Rainbow had brought down from Fluttershy’s attic, to go over everything that Twilight had learned.

They weren’t all taking it as well as she might have liked.

“Look, it isn’t as though I want to talk about stuff like this at dinner,” Rainbow said. “Trust me, there are a hundred things that I would rather be talking about right now, not least the Grand Galloping Gala and how awesome that’s gonna be. But Twilight just out and said that this guy admitted to her that he straight up killed somepony and we’re supposed to ignore that until after dessert?”

Rarity sighed. “I suppose I can’t deny that there is some force in what you say, Rainbow darling, and there are times when even good manners must yield to necessity… but I can’t help wondering if you’re not overreacting just a little bit.”

“Overreacting?” Rainbow said. “Overreacting, are you serious?”

“Please don’t fight, girls,” Twilight said. “And… I think Rarity might have a point. I’m not trying to minimise what he did-”

“Are you sure about that?” Rainbow asked.

“Yes,” Twilight said firmly. “Just because… just because he’s taken a life once in extremis doesn’t make him-“

“Is it just once?” Applejack said. “Seems to me from all I’ve heard that he’s done it a few more times than that to say the least.” She frowned, and pushed her hat back a little further up her head. “Are you sure that Spike’s okay back there with him and his sister?”

“Just because Spike is smaller than a filly doesn’t make him helpless,” Twilight said. “Already his scales are stronger than most armour, and he’s probably nearly as strong as you are even now. And besides, I’d hope that you know me well enough to know that I wouldn’t leave Spike with somepony whom I genuinely thought was dangerous.”

Applejack smiled softly. “I know you wouldn’t, sugarcube. I just suppose that has us all, well some of us anyways, wondering why you don’t think he’s dangerous. On account of him having killed before and all.”

“He’s a soldier,” Twilight said. “He’s killed in battle, I admit, but… like I said, that’s his duty. Shining Armour would be prepared to do that if the need arose because that’s his duty too.”

“If we weren’t discussing murders we could talk about how you never told us that you have a brother, darling,” Rarity said. “A dashing, handsome older brother who is a literal knight in shining armour, no less.”

“I didn’t tell you because it wasn’t… you know, I’d almost rather talk about Lightning at this point,” Twilight said, with a touch of amusement in her voice.

“So would we,” Rainbow said.

“I take the point about duty, I guess,” Applejack said. “It ain’t something I’d want any kin of mine to do, but at the same time it ain’t no unworthy thing to do defend your home and hearth and all the folks who can’t protect themselves.”

“Isn’t that we did when we wielded the Elements of Harmony against Nightmare Moon?” Twilight asked.

“We didn’t kill Princess Luna,” Rainbow reminded her.

“I remember, I was there,” Twilight said, with only a touch of sharpness. “And I’m not condoning what Lightning does-“

“To be honest, Twi, I’m really glad to hear you say that because I couldn’t have gotten it from what else you’ve been saying,” Rainbow said. “And he didn’t kill that farmer in battle, did he?”

“No,” Twilight admitted. “But he was doing it to protect his sister.”

“Yeah,” Applejack murmured. “I… if I saw somepony whomping my sister… well, I don’t deny that I’d get pretty mad at them; may be I’d want to do something pretty serious to show ‘em, too. But I’d like to think that they’d be able to crawl away by the time I was through with ‘em, and… regardless of why he did it the idea of somepony who can take a life like that and not flinch from it… I can’t say I like him being here and I can’t say that I like him being so close to you, sugarcube.”

“Like I said,” Twilight repeated. “It doesn’t make him a murderer.”

“Doesn’t it?” Rainbow said. “It sounds a lot like murder to me.”

“Once again, Rainbow Dash, you’re exaggerating,” Rarity said. “Like Twilight, I don’t condone the act, but it surely falls under some sort of self-defence? Like Applejack, if I saw somepony abusing Sweetie Belle… I’m no expert brawler but surely these things happen sometimes?”

“I guess,” Rainbow conceded. “But shouldn’t you be sorry that they did? From what Twilight said this guy is stone cold about it, no regrets at all. Is that somepony we want hanging around Twilight? Around this town?”

“You’re talking as if he’s dangerous, Rainbow Dash,” Fluttershy murmured, having been unobstrusively eating her sandwiches until this point in the conversation. “And, while I admit that I wasn’t there to hear what he said he did to that poor pony, I… it’s difficult for me to think of the pony who was so helpful today as being this kind of monster you’re making him out to be.” She glanced at the pink earth pony sitting next to her. “Um, yes, Pinkie, you can have the chocolate cake if you want.”

“Thank you!” Pinkie, who had said no words but had been saying a great deal with the way that she had staring at that cake all evening, grabbed a slice and stuffed it into her mouth. She said something unintelligible.

Rarity sighed. “Swallow first, Pinkie dear, then talk.”

Pinkie swallowed. “He and Krysta were both really nice when they came to Sugarcube corner.”

“I agree, Prince Lightning Dawn’s manners have been of the highest quality,” Rarity said.

“To some of us,” Applejack muttered.

“Yes, I admit that he was a little haughty to you, Applejack.”

“Just because he’s polite to some of us doesn’t make him a good guy,” Rainbow said. “Just because he’s nice to Pinkie and enjoys your cupcakes doesn’t make him a good guy; it just means he’s got good taste.”

“And just because he’s done one bad thing doesn’t make him wicked either,” Fluttershy said. “We all make mistakes from time to time, and we all do things that aren’t very nice.”

“Not like that,” Rainbow said.

“But we have to be willing to accept the idea that ponies can change, don’t we?” Fluttershy said. “You’re right, Rainbow Dash, we didn’t kill Princess Luna; because we accepted that she could be sorry for what she’d done, and want to make amends for it. And Princess Celestia was willing to accept this too, and forgive her. If we can’t forgive… then wouldn’t we have… have had to do something drastic to her for what she’d done?”

Rainbow crossed her forehooves. “Well… put it like that… I still don’t like this guy.”

“I’ve picked up on that, surprisingly,” Twilight said, with just a smidgeon of sarcasm in her voice. “Although I don’t really understand why?”

“Don’t you? Really?”

“You’re only just hearing about all of this,” Twilight said. “Why does it bother you so much?”

“Because I worry about you, don’t you get that?” Rainbow snapped. She took a deep breath. “What I want to know is why it doesn’t bother you more? Why it doesn’t bother any of you more? Why Applejack is the only other pony here who seems to get this?”

“Because nopony who likes cupcakes could be that bad,” Pinkie said.

“Because we’ve seen a different side of him,” Fluttershy said. “A side that is at odds with the kind of picture you seem to have. Maybe if you spent a little more time with him then-“

“What makes you think I want to spend time with him?”

“Would you rather just keep holding on to a negative opinion that is at odds with the reality?” Twilight said. “Fluttershy’s right, you’ve interacted with him the least of any of us except for Rarity, and yet you’re the one who seems the most dead set against him? I appreciate you’re concern, but the Lightning Dawn that you’ve constructed in your head isn’t the one that I see in my library.”

“He didn’t get those scars picking flowers,” Rainbow insisted.

“No, he got them being brave,” Twilight said. “Are you really saying that if Ponyville was threatened by danger you wouldn’t fight?”

“Sure I’d fight,” Rainbow said. “I’d fight to protect all of you. That’s what I’m trying to do right now.”

Twilight smiled. “And I appreciate that, but-“

Rainbow grinned. “There’s no need to sugarcoat it or patronise me, Twi; if you want to call me an idiot just say so.”

“I would never call you an idiot,” Twilight said. “I just think you’re wrong about him.”

Rainbow’s eyes narrowed. “Is that so? And what do you think of him?”

“I think…” Twilight hesitated for a moment. “I think that he’s someone who’s had to live a hard life, and as part of that he’s had to make some difficult choices. I wish… I wish that his life had been easier, and I would like to make his time here as easy and as pleasant as possible. I can’t imagine having my home, my family, all ripped away from me the way that he has. Can any of you?” She frowned, just trying to imagine it caused her a pain that was almost physical. Canterlot gone, her parents, Spike, Shining Armour… Princess Celestia, ripped away from her, gone beyond recall, lost forever. The fact that Lightning didn’t seem to remember very much about his lost home… what might have seemed a consolation appeared to Twilight almost to make it worse. Not only to have lost but not even to remember what you had lost? She couldn’t imagine anything worse.

Nopony said anything, not even Rainbow Dash.

“I don’t disagree that it sounds all kinds of rough,” Applejack said. “But that don’t make… aw, heck, we just worry about you, Sugarcube, and we worry about Ponyville too. Maybe we worry too much. Truth is I think we’re just talking past one another at this point, I don’t think we’re going to see eye to eye, not tonight at least; but if you trust him… I guess with oughtta trust you. Just be careful, okay?”

“Of course,” Twilight said. “I always am. Just one more thing: Princess Celestia doesn’t seem worried about him-“

“Princess Celestia doesn’t know what he did,” Rainbow muttered.

“Rainbow Dash, you ain’t helping at this point,” Applejack said. “Princess Celestia was what I wanted to talk about next, regardless of what we all might think about Lightning Dawn I hope we can agree that this business from Princess Celestia is a mite strange and unsettlin’.”

“Do you think it’s possible that your brother could be wrong?” Rarity asked.

Twilight shrugged. “It’s possible… Shining Armour wouldn’t lie to me, but some of what he said is hearsay and might have been misconstrued.”

“In which case we don’t know nothing and its pointless talking about this,” Applejack said. “But if he’s right, and what he said did happen-“

“Then that would be strange,” Twilight agreed.

“You know the princess far, far better than we do, darling,” Rarity said. “Has she ever acted like this before?”

“Not in my experience,” Twilight said. “Although, in terms of her life I haven’t known her for very long at all.”

“I wonder what could worry her so much?” Fluttershy asked.

“It seems pretty clear to me,” Rainbow said. “She doesn’t want more guys like him showing up.”

“Okay,” Twilight said. “But why not?”

“Because she gets what you don’t?”

“Rainbow Dash!”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop,” Rainbow said, holding up her forehooves in surrender. “I’m just saying: Princess Celestia got really worried when she found out who he was and where he came from; where he says he came from.”

“You think he’s lying?” Twilight asked.

“I’d never heard any of this before,” Rainbow said. “Now that’s not so surprising because I spent most of my history classes taking a nap, but even you’d never heard of any of this before and you… well, you’re Twilight Sparkle, you know everything!”

Twilight chuckled. “I have never claimed to know everything,” she said. “And apparently I know very little.”

“According to him.”

“I believe him,” Twilight said. “Or at the very least I believe that he believes what he’s saying. And wouldn’t it be… wouldn’t it just be wonderful if what he said was true: a whole universe teeming with creatures just waiting to meet us? New friends to make, new experiences to share, new discoveries and all of it out there, waiting for us if only we can get to it!”

“Princess Celestia don’t seem to share your enthusiasm,” Applejack pointed out.

“No,” Twilight conceded. “No, that… that is a little worrying. I just wish that she’d explain to me why, what she knows that I don’t. I can’t understand until she does.”

“Maybe she’s going to explain everything at the Gala,” Pinkie suggested. “She doesn’t want to write to you, she’s going to tell you in person?”

Twilight nodded. “That’s possible. I hope you’re right, Pinkie.” She decided to change the subject; everypony had said all that there was to say about both Lightning Dawn and Princess Celestia, and the truth was that without more information there just wasn’t a whole lot more to say upon either subject. So Twilight, not wishing to talk in circles anymore, decided to change the subject. “So… Applejack, how are the apples?”

“Smooth, Twilight,” Rainbow said, a welcome smile pricking at the corners of a mouth that had otherwise been stern all evening.

“Well, I don’t know for sure and I don’t like to jinx nothin’, but I reckon we’re in for a bumper crop this year if I do say so myself,” Applejack declared proudly. “Of course we already had one of those last year, thanks to y’all, I gotta admit, but this year, well, we’ll have more cider than we’ve had for a few years now, looks like.”

“Maybe you’ll be able to make more than you have for a few years now?” Rainbow suggested.

“Rainbow Dash, you know we always try our hardest to make as much cider as we can,” Applejack said.

“I know that you say you do,” Rainbow replied.

“You have bad luck, is all, it ain’t my fault,” Applejack declared. “The line is as long as the line gets, and the line moves how the line wants, I don’t hold off to spite you or nothin’.”

“You never save me a cup, either,” Rainbow pointed out.

“You know I can’t do that, it ain’t fair.”

“What are you two talking about?” Twilight asked.

“Cider season,” Rainbow said, wistful longing and bitter regret mingling in her tone.

“The cider apples don’t stay ripe very long, so cider season don’t last too long,” Applejack explained. “Now we Apples have been makin’ cider the old fashioned way with love and care since my great-grandpappy founded Sweet Apple Acres, and you can be sure that every cup is fine quality guaranteed! Unfortunately… there ain’t always enough to go around.”

“Don’t I know it,” Rainbow muttered.

“That doesn’t sound like Applejack’s fault,” Twilight ventured.

“I know it’s not her fault, but I still don’t like it,” Rainbow said.

“Anyways,” Applejack went on. “I think, with a bit of luck, we might even get zap apple jam this year.”

“Ooh!” Pinkie said. “That’s great! I’ve been thinking about trying some of that as a bonding agent in sponges, you know, to have layers of jam to stick the icing to the sponge. And maybe the cream or the buttercream, too. The only problem is that the zap apples grow so rarely that I’ve never been able to get any before.”

Applejack smiled. “I’ll try and save you a jar or two, sugarcube.”

“Oh, her you can save-“

“Rainbow, darling, let it go,” Rarity insisted. “Twilight, I appreciate the sentiment, but the choice of subject to drift over to was not the wisest.”

“I’m starting to see that for myself,” Twilight replied, a hint of laughter in her voice.

“My animals are already starting to get back to normal after yesterday,” Fluttershy ventured. “I’m so glad. I don’t think that I’d be able to go to the Grand Galloping Gala and leave them behind if they were still upset.”

“Oh, Fluttershy, you must go, you simply must!” Rarity declared. “After all the trouble that we put Twilight to trying to get tickets, it would be terribly rude of you to stay home. And besides, isn’t this the night when all our dreams will come true? Isn’t this the night when we will get what we want, dare I say, what we deserve?”

Applejack chuckled. “And do you know what you want any more, Rarity? Seems to me like you’re thinking of shovin’ that Prince Charmin’ of yours aside for Twilight’s brother.”

Rarity gasped. “Pshaw, Applejack! I say again, pshaw! Shame on you, for making such a suggestion. Is a mare no longer allowed to make any remark, no matter how innocuous, about a gentlecolt lest calumnies and slanderous accusations be hurled down upon her head.” She placed one forehoof to her forehead, swooning dramatically. “Oh! I’m so offended I should retire to my room in the highest of dudgeon…” her tone became immediately less melodramatic as she added, “but that would be an awful waste of this delicious and an insult to Fluttershy who put it altogether for us.”

Rainbow Dash chuckled. “You ever think about going on stage, Rarity?”

“Oh, I’ve considered it, darling, but on the whole I’d rather make the costumes than wear them,” Rarity replied.

“You wear a lot of costumes anyway,” Rainbow pointed out.

“Those are dresses, Rainbow Dash, not costumes, it’s not the same thing, not the same thing at all.”

Twilight smiled. “For what it’s worth, Rarity, I think that Shining Armour could do a lot worse than you.”

A faint blush rose to Rarity’s pale cheeks. “Well, thank you, Twilight, thank you… thank you very much indeed, I… I shall consider that amongst the highest of compliments. And as much as I am sure you love your brother, I know you wouldn’t mention it unless I could do a lot worse than him.”

Twilight chuckled softly. “Well, yeah; that too.”

“I’ll say this,” Applejack added. “Twilight’s brother sounds like he does something useful with his time, instead of, well, whatever it is that this prince of yours does, Rarity.”

“That’s very easy for you to say, Applejack, no one doubts your utility,” Rarity replied. “For myself, I can quit easily imagine a circumstance in which some austere brute proclaims my occupation frivolous and without value. And so I must confess that such concerns do not enter one jot into my consideration of the perfect stallion.” She smiled. “My perfect stallion would be one who is-“

“Rich?” Rainbow Dash guessed.

Rarity’s eyebrows rose a little as she favoured the cyan pegasus with an old-fashioned look. “Character, darling, character,” she proclaimed reproachfully. “Good manners are a must, of course. Courteous speech, a noble bearing…but also virtues of the spirit, I could never love a stallion who was not brave, honest, loyal and true. And of course I would prefer one who was handsome too.”

“You don’t want a lot, do you?” Rainbow said, grinning.

“I want what I deserve,” Rarity said, almost daring Rainbow Dash to contradict her.

Rainbow nodded. “Yeah, and you should hold out for it too.”

Twilight listened to them speak, and as she listened she found her mind straying to a pair of golden eyes set in a face that was mottled like marble.

“Twilight?” Fluttershy said. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” Twilight said quickly. “Um, what were you saying?”

It was getting late by the time – having long ago finished eating, and indeed having done the dishes rather than leaving them all the hostess – that the party broke up, with Rainbow flying off to her home amidst the clouds while Applejack and Pinkie headed back to Sweet Apple Acres and Sugarcube Corner respectively. Twilight remained to say farewell to Fluttershy.

“Thank you for having everypony around like this,” Twilight said.

“Oh, it was no trouble at all,” Fluttershy said. “You’re all welcome, any time.”

“Even so,” Twilight said. “I appreciate it. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Twilight.”

Twilight left the house, to find Rarity waiting for her outside of Fluttershy’s cottage.

“Rarity,” Twilight said. “You haven’t headed home?”

“I thought you might like some company on the way back,” Rarity said.

Twilight smiled. “Oh, thank you, Rarity, that’s really generous of you,” she said, and they both trotted back together in the direction of Ponyville.

“So,” Rarity said. “What’s it like having guests in the library?”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Twilight said. “It’s not as if there isn’t room; although there are probably places they’d both be more comfortable.”

Rarity nodded. “And how are you taking to your guests?”

“Like I said up there,” Twilight said. “I like them. They’ve both been through a lot and yet, in spite of what Rainbow Dash seems to think, it hasn’t made them cruel. Lightning… Lightning can be a little strange at times, a little… I’ll be honest, a little rude. He certainly isn’t the perfect stallion by any stretch of the imagination, and there are things about him that I’d change if I could, but… I get the impression that he could change, if that makes sense. Not changing him exactly, but… but showing him that there’s a different way to be, to live. He and Krysta have been through so much, that’s why I think it’s important that while he’s here… he’s shown something different, because I hope that if he sees that life doesn’t have to be harsh… then it will soften some of his harsh edges at the same time.” Twilight blinked. “What are you smiling at?” she asked, noticing the smile playing on the edges of Rarity’s face.

“Oh, me?” Rarity said. “Nothing, darling, nothing at all.”

All in the Mind

All in the Mind

Twilight was woken up the next day by the sounds of physical effort outside: grunting, stamping on the ground, high pitched cries; Twilight's eyes snapped open. "Spike," she said loudly, as she sat up in bed. "Are you-"

"I'm fine," Spike said. He was already up, although judging by a certain bleariness beneath his eyes and the slightly disgruntled tone of his voice he wasn't entirely happy to be up. "Everyone's fine. They're just… practicing, or something."

Twilight looked out of the bedroom window. Down below, at the back of the library, she could see Lightning Dawn and Krysta, as Spike had put it, practicing, although sparring or training were other words that Twilight might have used to describe what she could see. Lightning had his splendid silver armour on, it glimmered in the light of the sun which even now was starting to rise, obedient to Celestia's command, above the horizon. Krysta was dressed no differently than usual, but she had bound her long hair – which had changed colour, all traces blue or black vanishing completely in favour of a bright red which burned like fire - in a tight bun at the nape of her neck, with a handful of long, visible hairpins thrust through said bun; she held her sword, a weapon which looked small for all that it was nearly as big as its diminutive wielder, in both hands and she was using it to slash wildly at Lightning. All the while, as she slashed, she shouted wordlessly like a tennis pro shrieking as they hit the ball.

"What do you suppose they're doing?" Twilight asked, as she got out of bed and walked lightly across the room a little closer to the window. Krysta appeared to be doing most of the work; no, that was not the right way to think of it, Krysta appeared to be putting forth all of the aggressive energy in this match or session or however you might want to phrase it, but the fact that Lightning appeared to be mostly dodging her attempts to strike him – and succeeding – didn't mean that he wasn't working hard to do so, in the same way that just because a spell did not provide a feast for the eyes of spectators didn't mean that it wasn't an effort for the spellcaster.

"I don't know," Spike huffed. "But could you tell them to keep it down?" He put a pair of pink fluffy earmuffs on his head, plonked himself back down in his basket, and ostentatiously wrapped himself up in his blanket as he rolled over, presenting his back to Twilight and the window beyond which the siblings fought.

Twilight smiled at him, for all that he could not see it, but the fact that he could not, by his own choice, hear her meant that she didn't bother to tell him that she was going to do just that. She simply trotted down the stairs, sparing a brief glance for her golem and promising herself that at some point – probably after the gala at this rate – she would finish work on it. Twilight left the library, and wandered around the side of the living tree to find Lightning and Krysta as hard at it as they had been just a few moments before when she had seen them out of the window.

Neither of them noted her, and they both seemed so fixed in concentration that, for all that she had come to ask them to keep the noise down, Twilight found herself drawn in to simply watching them, silently, not disturbing them in any way by her presence. It was clear that Lightning was by far the more skilled of the two, and that if Twilight had initially felt that he wasn't working as hard as Krysta was that was simply a reflection of the fact that he didn't have to work that hard to hold her off. Rather, he seemed to be doing in effortlessly, a fact that equally seemed to be driving Krysta up the wall a little bit as she charged at him, blade slashing, again and again. Lightning was very conservative in how he avoided her. He didn't take to the air, in fact his wings might as well have been strapped down for all the use he was getting out of them, although he did leap once or twice, astonishing Twilight with now nimbly he could move in all that armour as he performed a backflip that carried him out of danger before landing him on all fours facing Krysta once again.

Krysta did take to the air, in fact she seemed to be doing everything that she could to try and land a hit on Lightning: she flew, and she used her portals to come at him from all angles, emerging behind him or directly above him to descend like a thunderbolt upon his back. None of it worked, he was too swift for her, and as she watched the more certain Twilight became that Krysta would never achieve the hit that she desired though she kept it up all day.

But she didn't have all day, because almost as soon as the thought crossed Twilight's mind Lightning extended one wing and said, "That's enough. That's enough for today."

Krysta's hands – and her sword – dropped limp and dispirited to her sides. "You win," she sighed. "Again."

"It's not a competition."

"Not for you, because you always win," Krysta replied.

Lightning might have said something in reply to that, but before he could speak he – finally – caught sight of Twilight watching the pair of them. "Miss Twilight," he said, bowing his head to her. "I hope that we did not disturb you."

Twilight winced a little. "Let's just say that Spike isn't too happy with the pair of you right now."

"I apologise," Lightning said. "It was inconsiderate of me."

"He's just a little cranky," Twilight said. "But he'll get over it. So, were you training?"

"I was about too," Lightning said. "That was more in the nature of a warm-up, which Krysta is kind enough to help me with."

Lightning might have missed the nearly mutinous look that passed Krysta's face to hear her best shot described as a warm up, but Twilight did not.

“Well, I didn’t mean to disturb you,” Twilight said. “I just wanted to ask if you could possibly keep the noise down just a little?”

“Sorry,” Krysta said. “It’s easy to get carried away, you know?”

“I don’t, I’m afraid,” Twilight said. “But I can see your point.”

“I will be quieter going forward, Miss Twilight,” Lightning said. “You have my word.”

“Spike will be very glad to hear it,” Twilight said. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“You don’t have to,” Lightning said, although he seemed as surprised – moreso – that the words had left his mouth as Twilight was to hear them. He stared at her for a moment, his armoured body frozen by that same surprised that was writ in block capitals upon his face. It… was he blushing? It was a little hard to make out because of the way the colours shifted across his face, and especially the darkest veins upon his marbled coat, but Twilight definitely thought that his cheeks were heating up. “I, um, I mean to say,” he stammered. “I mean that you are quite welcome to stay… if you wish.”

Twilight hesitated for a moment, a smile playing across her face. She looked down at her hooves, unsure of quite how she ought to respond. “That… is very kind of you to offer,” she said. “But I’d only get in your way, I’m sure.”

“How about if he took his armour off?” Krysta asked.

“Krysta!”

“What? Trust me, take off your armour and go swim in a pond somewhere.”

“Don’t listen to her! Don’t listen to anything she says!” Lightning said quickly, gesturing towards her with one hoof. He cleared his throat. “I mean, um, I’m so sorry, Miss Twilight-“

“How about instead of showing off his muscles he showed you his magic?” Krysta asked.

“Okay,” Twilight said, the word galloping out hard upon the end of Krysta’s sentence because – although she was too polite to actually raise the issue herself – the idea of seeing first-hoof and up-close the magic of another world was not a chance that she intended to pass up; while she doubted that she would have learned anything from watching Lightning’s physical training, if he was indeed willing to show her his magic then who knew what she might uncover? Even if it turned out to be exactly the same as Equestrian magic – quite possible, considering that, assuming that the story he had told was accurate, they shared a more or less common origin then that would be an incredible discovery in an of itself. If not, if the magic of the Olympians had in some way diverged from the magic of Equestria then that would be one of the greatest discoveries of the age. What would-be philosopher of magic could ever let such a chance slip from her grasp.

And yet having agreed so readily she felt what Twilight thought must have been the twin of the uncertainty that had stolen over Lightning. “I mean… if you wouldn’t mind.”

“I… I have no objections,” Lightning said formally, recovering his courtesy. “That is to say that it would be my honour to show you of what, in the arcane arts, I am capable of. I merely fear that, well, you have studied at the hooves of Princess Celestia herself, a philosopher of magic almost as skilled in the arts magical as she was fair to look upon. I fear that aught that I could show you will seem stale and dull by comparison.”

Krysta planted her face upon her hand. “Come on, dude, don’t blow it now. She was about to stay,” she muttered.

“You really don’t need to worry,” Twilight replied in an easy tone. “Prince Lightning, not to put too fine a point on it but you come from another world; from across the stars. The way you,” Twilight cast around for something. “The way you brush your teeth is fascinating enough-“

“He brushes his teeth to a pearly white shine, take a look,” Krysta said. Nopony took any notice.

“Your magic… I’ve seen a little of it already and I would be honoured, more honoured than I think you realise, if you would show me more of what magic looks like on another world, so far removed from my own.”

Lightning bowed his head, a gesture which could not quite hide the fact that he looked quite pleased with this turn of events. “Then I shall do my utmost not to disappoint you, Miss Twilight.”

“Great,” Twilight said brightly. “Also,” she added, as her horn flared with a lavender light. A notepad and quill zoomed out of the library to hover, suspended by telekinesis, right in front of her. “Do you mind if I take some notes?”

“How could I begrudge a scholar?” Lightning replied. “Now,” he continued, more softly and more to himself. “How shall I begin?”

His horn glowed very softly as he locked eyes with Twilight.

How about with this? The words echoed in Twilight’s mind in the voice of Prince Lightning Dawn.

Twilight’s eyes widened. “That… telepathy?”

Lightning’s lips turned upwards in what threatened to become a smirk but did not quite reach that unpleasant point.

Indeed, Miss Twilight, once again his voice resounded inside Twilight’s head.

Twilight’s jaw hung open for a moment. “Incredible,” she whispered. “I mean…” she chuckled softly. Incredible.

“I cannot read your thoughts, Miss Twilight,” Lightning said. “I can place words in your mind but that does not mean that I can see what is already there.”

“I see,” Twilight murmured. “That’s… a little disappointing, even if it is probably a good thing.”

“There are many, I think, who would agree with you on the latter point,” Lightning murmured. He locked eyes with her again. This skill was taught to me so that I could command warriors from a distance, even those who were out to sight of me upon the battlefield.

“I presume they must be able to communicate back,” Twilight said. “Or else it would lose a lot of its utility.”

Some, I grant you, but I can still give orders even if I cannot get a reply, Lightning said into her mind.

Twilight frowned ever so slightly. “Do you need to lock eyes with me to do this? Because that seems like it cuts against the concept that you’ve just outlined.”

“Indeed,” Lightning said, although immediately he said it he looked embarrassed that he had forgotten he was supposed to be showing off his powers. I mean, indeed, Miss Twilight. Telepathy requires a degree of cultivation; at first I must link eyes with the person I wish to speak too; later, as I become more accustomed to them, I can reach them from further and further away. The knightly comrades I have trained with I can now reach from across a battlefield or beyond; although, unfortunately, not from across the stars. And yes, I have tried.

“I’m sorry,” Twilight said. “It must be quite wrenching, after getting used to being able to speak to other people from across great distances, have their voices in your head all the time and then suddenly… silence.”

“Who are you talking about?” Krysta asked.

Twilight tore her eyes away from Lightning briefly to look at Krysta. “Lightning was telling me that he could talk to his comrades from across great distances.”

“Maybe, but that didn’t mean he ever did,” Krysta said. “Did you?”

Lightning looked unabashed. “I appreciate your concern but it is not the great hardship which you assumed it is.”

“It’s not?” Twilight said. “I don’t understand, if I could talk to my friends in our heads whenever I wanted to then I’d probably do it all the time; could you teach me how to do this? How to speak mind to mind like this?”

“I fear it would be of less use to you than you might wish, it is only a talent which can be taught to unicorns,” Lightning said. “And I fear that we have little time to learn.”

“I’m a quick study,” Twilight said.

“It took me many months to even begin to get to grips with this skill.”

“Try me,” Twilight insisted.

“I would, although I do not claim to be a great teacher, or a teacher of any kind,” Lightning said. “Cannot Princess Celestia teach you this? I am a little surprised she did not do so.”

“If Princess Celestia can do this then I would be very surprised to learn that,” Twilight said. “She sends me messages via Spike, which she wouldn’t need to do if she could reach into my head and… okay, put like that it sounds a little weird, but it isn’t. I didn’t feel anything when you did it; I just heard your voice with something other than my ears. If the princess is a telepath then she has kept it well hidden, not only from me but from everypony, and to what end? It would make no sense. It must be a uniquely Olympian art, something that you learned after your people… after your king left Equestria. Did he teach it to you?”

“No,” Lightning said. “His Majesty is far too busy to concern himself with such things. I was instructed by a mare named Cerise, a proven and valiant knight.”

“How?” Twilight asked. “How does it work? How do you do it? No! Wait, don’t answer that. Princess Celestia always asked me to try and work the principles of a thing out for myself before she would explain it, which frustrated me at first but definitely helped me to grasp concepts more quickly. Now, what could it be?” She looked away from Lightning for a moment, resting one hoof under her chin as she pondered the question of how he was transmitting his thoughts into her mind, and how she might do the same. “Let’s see… the fact that you have to begin with eye contact but can move on to doing without suggests that there is some sort of implanted connection involved, your mind to my mind, a connection that grows stronger with time? Or use? Either way… it doesn’t help me understand how you… replication of brain waves? In the same way that a radio wave, once it reaches its destination, becomes the replication of a sound wave then perhaps if I can preserve the replication of the pattern of my words in a magical form then… a variation on phonic capture spell combined with some derivation on Starswirl’s spell of seeking, of course, that’s why it gets stronger with repetition because that’s how that spell has always worked, Spike’s connection to Celestia was built up in just that way when he was growing up! So, if I combine phonics and seeking with a little touch of…” Twilight once more looked Lightning in the eye. Can you hear me, Prince Lightning?

Now it was Lightning’s turn to drop his jaw onto the ground, and Twilight could not quite deny that there was a part of herself that was pleased that he was so impressed.

“You…” he trailed off.

“I told you I was a quick study,” Twilight said.

“You did not do yourself justice with the word,” Lightning murmured. “Your mind… it is keener than any sword I have ever seen wielded upon any battlefield.”

Twilight felt her cheeks begin to burn up. “Well, that’s very kind of you but I’m sure you’re exaggerating. I’ve just studied a lot of magic, how smart I am really has nothing to do with it.”

“Your modesty is no less incorrect for being true,” Lightning replied, which made a degree of sense to Twilight even though it sounded like it shouldn’t. “I have never known anyone to grasp this as swiftly as you do. I… it is wrong of me to feel this way but there is a part of me which regrets the fact that you will not be able to master the only other art I have to demonstrate for you just as swiftly.”

Twilight’s eyebrows rose. “You praise me, you regret that you underestimated me and then you… underestimate me again.”

“It is not as simple as grasping the principles of telepathy,” Lightning said. “This is not a magic that can be learned. It is a power that was bestowed upon me by my father, the King himself, as he has bestowed it upon all his honoured, honourable and valiant knights.”

“What power?”

“A sword,” Lightning said. “My sword.”

“A sword,” Twilight repeated. “A sword is power? Surely you don’t mean that he gave you a sword? A sword which you don’t have with you.”

“He did give it to me, after a fashion,” Lightning said. “And it is always with me, even though it may be a little more difficult to reach here than it is normally.” He closed his eyes, and seemed to dig his hooves a little deeper into the ground than they had been before. A frown crossed his marbled face. A golden glow began to softly illuminate his horn.

And then, as if in answer, a shimmering golden light appeared over Lightning’s shoulder, rippling like a pool into which a stone has been dropped straight down. The golden light shimmered and rippled, and grew brighter like a fire onto which more logs had been thrown; and as the light grew brighter Twilight saw, emerging from the lake-like light, a sword.

It came hilt first, presenting the pommel set with an amber sphere that caught the light from which it came and burned like fire; then the hilt and the broad, U-shaped guard which seemed to have been fashion from bone or antler of some vast and ancient creature, sharp and spiky; last of all came the blade itself, long and straight and sharp, and Twilight was astonished to see that it had been crafted in such a way as to reflect the mottled, marbled colours of Lightning’s coat: white and darkening shades of grey washing over one another in an intricate, winding pattern.

“This is Bolt of Dawn,” Lightning said. “Not the best name,” he admitted after a moment’s hesitation. “I have little talent for such things.”

“I had a ton of cool names lined up for him to use,” Krysta interjected.

“I could not name my blade ‘Awesome Incarnate’,” Lightning said severely. “In any case, the name is of little account compared to the blade itself, which was given to me by my father when I completed my training and joined the ranks of the elite Star Knights. It was forged in the fires of dragonsbreath, hammered into shape by the cyclopes who dwell beneath Mount Erebus, and the guard is part of the jawbone of a behemoth that my father and I slew on a hunt when I was thirteen years old. The blade can cut through all but the most powerful of magical defences, withstand immense temperatures, deflect magical attacks and at the same time I can use it as a conduit to control my use of the Fire of Heaven.”

“Fascinating,” Twilight murmured, although she was a little disturbed by the part about the hunt when he was thirteen years old. “But where did it come from? Where are you keeping it ordinarily?”

“Nowhere,” Lightning said, and the golden light disappeared as he gripped the blade with his telekinesis, giving it a couple of experimental-seeming swings through the air. “It is not in my keeping, but that of my father.”

“But you said he gave it to you.”

“He did, after a fashion,” Lightning replied.

Twilight frowned. “Perhaps you’d better explain a little more.”

“All things in New Olympia belong to the King,” Lightning explained. “He is lord and master, and we have nought but what he bestows, out of his grace and generous spirit, onto us. All the weapons of the knights are his gifts, fashioned for us by his will; he grants us not the weapons but the power to summon them from his armoury, to which they will return again once dismissed.” And indeed, as he spoke those words the blade that he had conjured out of nothing to nothing vanished once again, disappearing completely in a shower of motes of golden light as though it had never been any more than sunlight on dust the entire time. “That is the magic I cannot teach you, Miss Twilight; the power to summon can only be given by His Majesty, and then only the specific weapon that he allows.”

“Only one?” Twilight asked.

“Usually,” Lightning said. “My… Stellar, a comrade of mine, has been granted the right to summon three weapons, but that is a rare mark of distinction, a sign of the honour done to her and to her illustrious line.” He looked a little abashed. “And with that I fear that you have seen all of which I am capable, Miss Twilight. I have no more tricks with which to hold your attention.”

“Nothing at all?” Twilight said. “You’ll forgive me, I hope, if I find that a little strange.”

“I forgive you, Miss Twilight, for all that I do not understand.”

“I understand that your summoning ability was given to you, although I can’t really understand what that means without seeing it for myself, but… again, please forgive how this might sound but it seems so strange to me, almost bizarre, that you have telepathy but not any much simpler kinds of magic?”

“I have a degree of telekinesis,” Lightning said. “But it is rather blunt, and nothing at all compared to the finesse and dexterity that you or Miss Rarity demonstrate. I can wield the blade but, as you have already seen, I cannot pluck a flower from a rosebush, nor could I pass a thread through the eye of a needle.”

“Okay,” Twilight murmured. “But even so… nothing else?”

“What else would I need?”

“You don’t need anything, I suppose,” Twilight said. “But did you never want anything else? A whole world of magic out there and you never wanted to learn any of it beyond that one thing that you were taught?”

Lightning was still for a moment. “You said that if you had the ability – which you do now, a testament to your talent – to speak mind to mind then you would use it all the time; you were surprised that I did not. That… and now it is my turn to beg your forgiveness, but in New Olympia we do not employ the arcane arts for such frivolous purposes as talking amongst ourselves in the way of ordinary conversation. We do not use magic that way at all, not to please nor entertain ourselves.”

“Frivolous?” Twilight murmured. “I… I mean I suppose that you could call it that; you could probably label a lot of the things that we do with magic that way, but why bother? Why censure the use of the abilities that we have? For unicorns… well for me at least having magic is like having an extra limb, but you wouldn’t call me using all four of my hooves frivolous, would you? I mean, what do you use your magic for?”

“For war,” Lightning said. “In service of the throne and state, in defence of the light against the darkness which threatens it.”

“A worthy cause, I’m sure,” Twilight said. “But what about when you’re not engaged in battle? What about when you’re not fighting? Are you telling me that no unicorn or alicorn where you’re from uses their magic to entertain, to unwind, for fun?”

“You’ll have to explain that word fun to him, it’s not one that he’s very familiar with,” Krysta said.

“Krysta,” Lightning said, with the resigned and weary air of someone who has heard this many times.

“Okay then, tell Twilight when you last had any fun and what you did?” Krysta demanded.

Lightning fell silent. He scowled. He looked away. The one thing that he didn’t do was answer what Twilight couldn’t help but feel was an extremely simple question.

“You can’t do it, can you?” Krysta said smugly.

“My duties-“

“Don’t have to take you all day, every day,” Krysta said. “Other knights have downtime why not you?”

“I do,” Lightning said. “Yesterday, and the day before that, I had fun with Miss Twilight,” he stopped, seeming to become aware of what he had said. “I mean… I enjoyed the time we spent together.”

Twilight smiled. “So did I,” she said. “Although I’m a little surprised to learn that that’s the most fun you’ve had in… as far as you can remember.”

“You wouldn’t if you knew him better,” Krysta muttered.

“And it doesn’t feel quite right, either,” Twilight said. “I know that you were intending to train, but if you wouldn’t mind coming with me there’s somewhere else I’d like to take you.”

Lightning blinked. “To what purpose?”

“To the purpose of showing you how we have fun here in the promised land,” Twilight said.

“Go,” Krysta hissed. “Go with her!”

Lightning appeared to ignore her, but nevertheless after a moment’s hesitation he said, “I… I would be honoured to accompany you, Miss Twilight; I believe I can afford to be a little lax with my training for one day.”

“Excellent,” Twilight said. “Then follow me. I know just where to go.”

The journey across Ponyville to Sugarcube Corner was accomplished in no time at all, undisturbed by the good folk of Ponyville who moved all around them but did not disturb or interrupt their progress. Soon they stood before the gingerbread house-like structure, and Twilight’s horn flared with a touch of telekinesis as she opened up the door. The bell rang as Twilight led the way inside, followed swiftly after by Krysta and Lightning.

Pinkie was behind the counter, and as the door opened she looked up from whatever it was that she’d been doing and smiled as her eyes met Twilight’s.

Hey, Pinkie, Twilight thought, putting her newfound ability to the test. How’s it going?

Oh, hey Twilight! Everything was just great here but it’s even better now that you’ve shown up!

Twilight came to an abrupt stop just beyond the doorway. “Pinkie? How did you just do that?”

Pinkie cocked her head to one side. “I’m sorry Twilight, I thought that was something we were doing now.”

Lightning looked behind him, turning in place so that he could see her a little better. “Did something that I missed, Miss Twilight?”

“Pinkie just answered me… telepathically,” Twilight said. You would have thought that I’d be used to this by now but apparently not.

Pinkie cocked her head to one side. “Oh, is that what we were doing?”

Twilight’s eyes boggled. “You didn’t even know what you were doing?”

“I just heard your voice in my head so I answered in my head,” Pinkie explained. “That’s a pretty neat trick, Twilight, when did you learn it.”

“Just now, from Lightning,” Twilight said. “When did you learn it?”

“I don’t know,” Pinkie replied. “Sometime, I guess. Or maybe I could always do it, like making delicious pies that everypony loves, especially Rainbow Dash.”

Lightning boggled as he looked from Twilight to Pinkie and then back again. “Is this some kind of a joke?” he asked. “You must be joking, you have… arranged this to baffle and confound me.”

“Nope,” Twilight said. “No joke, just Pinkie.”

“I don’t… but you’re an earth pony!” Lightning exclaimed. He hesitated. “I apologise, Miss Pinkie, that must have sounded rather… I meant no offence by it, I was merely trying to express that an earth pony cannot use magic and therefore could not be a telepath.”

Pinkie looked Lightning in the eye, and a moment later Lightning took a step backwards. “By the Stars,” he muttered.

“Surprising, isn’t it?” Twilight said.

“I would call it astonishing,” Lightning replied. “How is this possible?”

“It’s Pinkie Pie,” Twilight said. “You’ll get used to it once you get to know her.”

“Have you gotten used to it, Miss Twilight?”

“Not yet,” Twilight admitted. “But I’m getting there.”

“What just happened?” Krysta asked. “Did… can Pinkie do unicorn magic?”

“Oh, of course not,” Pinkie said. “Only super smart unicorns like Twilight can do unicorn magic. I’ve just got a couple of tricks.”

“Hey, Lightning, does that mean I could learn telepathy too?”

“Probably not,” Lightning replied.

“But you’ve got some neat tricks of your own from what I hear,” Pinkie declared encouragingly. “Now, not that it isn’t a lot of fun to see you all weirded out by all the stuff I can do,” she emphasised the word ‘weirded’ by turning her head one hundred and eighty degrees upside down with no sign that this was so much as hurting her neck, “but what brings you all here? Is anybody hungry for more cupcakes?”

Krysta started to raise her hand, but Twilight spoke before she could, “Actually, we were here to see you. Have you got a minute?”

Pinkie beamed broadly as he head flipped back the right way up. “I’ve always got time for you, Twilight… except that I kind of have to mind Sugarcube Corner right now, so if I could have time for you that didn’t involve going anywhere that’d be great.”

“Oh,” Twilight said. “Where are Mr and Mrs Cake?”

“It’s date day,” Pinkie said. “It’s one day a month where Mr Cake takes Mrs Cake out to have fun just like they did when they were dating.”

“Huh,” Twilight said. “That sounds nice.”

“I thought so too,” Pinkie said. “Only it means that I can’t go anywhere and leave the Corner empty today. Unless there’s some of kind of big emergency with the fate of Equestria at stake, then I’m sure they’d understand.”

Twilight chuckled. “I think they would too, but fortunately nothing like that’s come up right now. I was just hoping that you could help me show Lightning and Krysta a bit of a good time.” She decided – for the sake of Lightning’s dignity, which seemed to be important to him – that she wouldn’t mention how hard Lightning had had to think to come up with an example of when he last had fun.

“Aww,” Pinkie cooed, leaning on the counter with her head resting on her hooves and giving Twilight - and Lightning - an expression that Twilight couldn’t quite decipher but which seemed rather pleased. “That’s so nice of you, Twilight, and I’d love to help but fortunately-“

“Wait, fortunately?” Twilight said.

Pinkie ignored her to roll on over her words. “I have other commitments, so unless you’d like to show Lightning a good time by helping me make a fresh batch of cakes for the Corner-“

“Actually,” Lightning said. “That… that might actually be quite a good idea. If… if you’re willing to allow us into your kitchen, I mean.”

Pinkie looked a little flummoxed, which was a rarity for Pinkie Pie in Twilight’s experience; she was far more likely to be the one astonishing other people than she was to be caught out herself. “Really?” she said. “You wouldn’t rather go and do something else, with Twilight?”

“I’m sure that Miss Twilight has no intention of abandoning me to your mercies,” Lightning said. “I mean… not to imply that… I meant to say-“

“Don’t worry,” Pinkie said. “I know what you meant, but… really? Are you sure about this?”

“If you object you can say so, Miss Pinkie,” Lightning said. “You do not have prod me into second thoughts to disguise the fact that you do not want my company.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” Pinkie assured him sincerely. “I just… are you sure about this?” Her gaze flickered to Twilight.

Twilight, are you okay with this or do you want me to get rid of him so you can have him all to yourself elsewhere?

Have him all to myself, what are you talking about Pinkie? If this is what he wants and you’re fine with us all being here then how can I object?

“Why are you doing this?” Krysta asked Lightning. “This… doesn’t seem very like you.”

Lightning was silent for a moment. He scuffed his hoof against the floor of the Sugarcube Corner. “Well, it’s… it’s for you.”

“For me?” Krysta said.

“I… I know that you’re not always happy in New Olympia,” Lightning said, looking embarrassed by the presence of Twilight and Pinkie. For her part, Twilight would have withdrawn to give him some space if she had thought that she could have done so unobtrusively. As it was, as voyeuristic as her presence felt, she had nowhere to go and nothing to do except listen in silence, and hope that nothing too personal was revealed or discussed. “And I know that I don’t always show how grateful I am to you for putting up with it, and for all the sacrifices that you have made to stay with me while I fulfil my destiny. So… although I know that it isn’t much… I thought that if I could make you, try and make you, those cakes that you seemed to like so much then… it would be a way of thanking you? When I say it aloud it sounds ridiculous-“

“No,” Krysta said. “It really doesn’t.”

“It doesn’t?” Lightning repeated.

“No,” Krysta said. “Come here, you.” She said, as she jumped up and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Sometimes I despair of you but then you go and do something like this to remind me that it’s still you and me against the stars, yeah?”

“Always,” Lightning murmured, putting one armoured leg around Krysta’s small form.

“Aww,” Pinkie said. “That’s so sweet! Come on in everypony! I mean everyone.”

“Just one moment, Miss Pinkie,” Lightning said. “I should probably take off my armour first.”

Pinkie blinked. “Yeah, that’d probably be for the best.”

“Krysta,” Lightning said. “Can you oblige?”

“Sure thing,” Krysta said, as she let go of Lightning’s neck – he took his leg away from her in his turn – and made a gesture like tearing open the curtains with her hands to rend apart the fabric of the world and create a portal, trimmed with crackling pink light, into the library. Twilight could see her incomplete golem standing by the wall, but there was no sign of Spike on the other side of the gateway, Twilight guessed that he was still asleep.

“We will be just a moment, Miss Twilight, Miss Pinkie,” Lightning said.

“Take as long as you need,” Twilight said. “We’ll be right here.”

Lightning nodded, before he climbed through the portal, disappearing from Sugarcube Corner and arriving in that same instant in the library. Krysta followed him, and then the portal closed between the two of them. Pinkie and Twilight were left alone.

“Are you sure that you’re okay with this?” Pinkie said, rolling over so that the top of her head was resting on the counter and she was looking at Twilight upside down.

“Why are you asking me that?” Twilight said. “Why wouldn’t I be okay with this?”

“Because!” Pinkie said, which wasn’t much of answer in Twilight’s opinion. “I wondered if maybe you wouldn’t have rather had Lightning to yourself. Alone.”

Twilight frowned. “Why would I want that?”

Pinkie righted herself. “You don’t like him?”

“No,” Twilight said. “I like him. “I just don’t need to have him all to myself or something for… whatever reason you thought I might. This is about doing something good for him, and Krysta as it turns out, which is another reason I couldn’t have him ‘to myself’ if I wanted to. Which I don’t.”

“If you say so,” Pinkie replied in a slightly sing-song voice.

Twilight might have replied that she did indeed say so, and in fact she might have said more than that besides except that at that precise moment a portal opened once again and Lightning and Krysta, the former having vested himself of all his armour so that he was as naked as the rest of them, returned from the library.

“I hope we were not too long,” Lightning said.

“No, you were much faster than I expected,” Twilight murmured. “How?”

“My armour is enchanted, to enable me to take it off and put it back on again at great speed and with ease,” Lightning said.

“That sounds very useful,” Twilight said. “Could I take a look at the enchantments later? After we’re done here, obviously.”

Lightning nodded gratefully. “Thank you, Miss Twilight and yes, I would be very glad to show you; I would say that I am not sure what you could glean from examination of the armour but you have already taught me not to underestimate your prowess in the arts magical. But, as you say, that is for later.”

“For right now,” Pinkie said. “Come on in and let’s get baking!”

“We shall be glad to, Miss Pinkie,” Lightning said, and he, Twilight and Krysta all made their way – Twilight leading, since of the three of them she actually knew the way into the back room – into the kitchen at the back of Sugarcube Corner.

“Welcome to where the magic happens,” Pinkie said, as she proudly presented the kitchen which managed by its style and furnishings to appear homely even though it was far larger than the domestic kitchen would be in any but the grandest of houses. “Are you ready to get started?”

“I am indeed, Miss Pinkie,” Lightning said, as he sniffed the air within the kitchen. As he did so, breathing in the aroma of sweet treats made with love, something about him seemed to soften, losing the rigidity of his martial stance and bearing, the sense of coiled spring ready to go off. When he spoke again his voice too, had softened. “It smells delicious in here. Like… it reminds me of… what?”

“Cakes, probably,” Pinkie said. “That’s what it always reminds me of, anyway. Now, we’ll start with a batch of basic cupcakes but with my own special twist on them. For ingredients, we need-“

“Two hundred and fifty grams each of butter, golden caster sugar and self-raising flour,” Lightning said. “Plus four medium eggs, four tablespoons of milk, a pinch of salt and a… a scoop of ice cream.”

“Hmm,” Pinkie said. “Not quite the recipe I work to – the measurements aren’t the same and I like to add a little bit of baking powder for that extra fluffy texture - but I can see that working out. I never would have thought of using ice cream which is really weird because I love ice cream so I’d really like to see how that works out. Where does that recipe come from?”

“I’d like to know that too,” Krysta said. “Since when do you bake?”

“I… don’t,” Lightning said, sounding almost as surprised as anyone else in the room, perhaps even more so.

Krysta frowned. “Then how did you-“

“Know that recipe?” Lightning asked, not waiting for her to finish. “I…I have no idea, it just…” he rubbed at his head with one hoof. “It just… came to me, as though some god had put the idea into my mind.”

“God of cupcakes?” Pinkie suggested.

“Perhaps His Majesty is sending you a message telepathically?” Krysta said.

Twilight had the distinct impression that this idea would have received withering scorn if it had come from anyone except Krysta, and even coming from Krysta as it did Lightning couldn’t quite contain how ridiculous he found the idea, although the set of his jaw showed he was trying. “I doubt that the King would send me a message on making cakes if he was able to make contact. I am very certain that he does not bake himself.”

“Then where did it come from?” Krysta asked.

“I don’t know,” Lightning said, with a hint of despair entering the general confusion of his voice. “I don’t know, I just… it’s as though being in here, the sights and the smells… Krysta, we’ve never baked before, have we? You and me? When we were travelling?”

“Where would we have gotten an oven when we were travelling?” Krysta asked him.

“We never made pies or… or blackcurrant tarts? I remember we stole those blackcurrants from the farmer-“

“And we ate them raw until our stomachs were killing us,” Krysta reminded him. “Remember, we used the juice to paint our faces blue.”

Lightning grinned. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I remember that now. And then…and then we’ve never gone anywhere near the palace kitchens so why does this feel so familiar to me?”

“We did pass bakeries,” Krysta said. “Maybe that’s the smell?”

Lightning shook his head. “This is more familiar than that, it’s like… it’s not just a cupcake recipe, it’s… it’s like a door in my head that was so securely locked that I didn’t even know it was a door has just been opened ajar and memories are starting to leak out, but I can’t find the door to get it open.”

“I understand what you mean, I think,” Twilight said gently. “Do you want to go and see a doctor about it? I’d offer to help but mind magic is a very specialist discipline, one I haven’t studied in any great depth or detail.”

“Can’t you just pick it up in ten seconds like you did telepathy?” Krysta asked.

Twilight smiled briefly. “It’s not that simple. I don’t think that either of us would want me to risk poking around in Lightning’s head without proper training.”

“Your reticence is probably for the best,” Lightning said. “Moreover… I don’t want to go to a hospital, or see a doctor or be anywhere but here. This place has, for whatever reason, affected me. I want to see… what else it does, if that’s alright by you.”

Twilight looked at Pinkie, who beamed. “Sure thing. Do you want to try out that recipe that you remembered?”

Lightning hesitated a moment, then smiled. “Shall we see what ice cream does to cupcakes?”

As it turned out, adding ice cream to the mixture made for pretty decent cupcakes; not as nice as Pinkie’s of course but by the time they came out of the oven and were covered in icing and buttercream Lightning’s cakes were certainly nothing to sneeze at. In fact, having tried one, Twilight was prepared to admit that they were, in fact, very good.

It turned out that Lightning’s memory was not solely confined to remembering a single recipe for a single type of cake: they spend the rest of the morning and – after a break for as sweet a lunch as one would expect of Pinkie Pie – a good part of the afternoon in the kitchen of Sugarcube Corner, working their way through cupcakes and pegasus cakes, apple pies and gooseberry pies, fritters and turnovers, doughnuts filled with every kind of filling imaginable, chocolate gateaux and sponge cake and cookie cake and every single kind of sweet treat imaginable. Or so it seemed to Twilight at least, but what she chiefly noticed besides the varied selection that Pinkie was working on was how much Lightning seemed to instinctively grasp, even though it seemed as though he didn’t really know where it was coming from. Pinkie talked all three of her guests through every stage of every bake but at every stage Lightning was always the quickest of them to grasp what they were doing and why, and even when he didn’t know what he was doing – there were times when his hooves seemed to move independently of his mind, as though his muscles could still remember what his mind had forgotten or suppressed. It was a mystery, to be sure, but in the midst of the hard work of baking delicious treats and the surprise of watching the soldier reveal the baker hidden deep within it was difficult to remember the mystery; or perhaps it would be better to say that Twilight was able to put it to one side for now and subsume herself in the delights of baking with friends, creating works that, if they were not all masterpieces – only Pinkie was really managing that consistently, although Lightning came close once or twice – were at least full of passionate enthusiasm.

There was also the pleasure of watching Lightning Dawn, proud warrior prince, regress before her eyes into a little colt.

“Who wants to lick the bowl?” Pinkie cried cheerfully, holding said bowl, with its drips and drops of batter clinging to the sides, up in the air.

“I do!” Lightning and Krysta yelled in unison, raising a powerful hoof and a tiny hand respectively up into the air.

The two of them stopped, staring at one another.

“Go on, Krysta,” Lightning said.

“No no no no!” Krysta replied, gesturing furiously with both hands. “No, Lightning, you should take it. You’ve done all the work for it.”

“I can’t take it away from you, you’re my little sister.”

“And I’m offering it to you!” Krysta cried. “What, am I not allowed do that now?”

“You’re only doing this because…” Lightning trailed off. “Why are you doing this?”

Krysta rolled her eyes. “If you don’t get it, I’m not going to explain it to you, just lick the bowl.”

“You lick the bowl!”

“What are you going to do if I don’t, force it down my throat?”

“Oh, come on, don’t fight over something like this,” Pinkie said. “I have two spoons!”

They both looked at her.

Krysta beamed. “Well, why didn’t you say so in the first place?”

When they resumed baking, Lightning flung flower and baking powder and everything else around with such gay abandon that he made far more mess in the kitchen than he needed too.

And then, once the pies were in the oven, Twilight felt a lump of flower strike her on the nose.

She looked up, astonished to see Lightning look at her with an expression that was part sheepish, part mischievous.

Twilight’s eyes narrowed. “Really?”

“I… I scarcely know what is coming over me,” he admitted.

“Really?” Twilight replied. “Well, you know what I know?” She grinned. “You shouldn’t start a food fight with someone whose telekinesis is better than yours!” she yelled, as she threw every ingredient she could grab with her magic at him. Soon they were both laughing uproariously as they flung things back and forth, pursuing one another around the kitchen.

Yes, it created a colossal mess that they then had to clean up afterwards, but it had been fun while it lasted and besides, even sweeping and cleaning could be, if not fun, then at least reasonably engaging when you were doing it with friends.

“I must say,” Lightning said, as he watched Twilight used her telekinesis to direct several brooms and mops all at once. “That, at the moment, your using magic in that way does not seem so frivolous, despite what my upbringing would teach.”

“Magic isn’t a weapon,” Twilight said. “It’s not, in the main, some mysterious thing that needs to be looked upon with awe – although I grant that there are some spells that do seem to require a degree of that kind of veneration when you think about them. I would say, especially after what I’ve learned here in Ponyville, that magic isn’t even a tool. Magic is just… most magic, for unicorns, is just like a limb, like an extra limb that we happen to have that other ponies don’t. You wouldn’t not use all four legs for anything, so why not use magic?”

Lightning cocked his head to one side. “You really see the subject of your own study as such a commonplace thing?”

“Why not?” Twilight said. “The magic of friendship is the most powerful magic in Equestria, but at the same time it is a magic so common that it is all around us at any and every given moment. Even here, in this room, with us.”

Lightning locked eyes with her for a moment, and she thought that he might be about to say something telepathically, but then he looked away as he kept on sweeping. “I feel as though I should apologise to you both,” he said gruffly.

“What for?” Twilight asked.

“All this mess,” Lightning said, as though it were obvious.

“You think this is a mess?” Pinkie said. “You should see what happens when Rainbow and I get together.”

Lightning snorted. “That would be an amusing image, I’m sure, if I knew her a little better, but it does-“

“Lightning,” Twilight said, before he could go on. “Did you have fun? Are you having fun today, now?”

“I…yes,” Lightning said, as he looked at her. “I…I can’t remember when I last…when I last had fun like this.”

“Make sure you keep at it when you get home,” Pinkie said.

Krysta made some kind of a noise from the back of her throat. She had long since given up on trying to bake herself and was now sitting on top of one of the work surfaces, watching the three ponies. Perhaps strangely, she did not seem bored; rather she seemed amused to see everything going on around her, especially Lightning, at whom she was looking right now with a look in her blue eyes that Twilight could not decipher, but which clearly presaged something.

“I…” Lightning hesitated, as Krysta leaned forward. “I will… I’ll try, at least. I can’t guarantee that I’ll always have time-“

“Make time,” Pinkie said.

“I do have duties.”

“Of course,” Pinkie said. “But you also have a duty to yourself, don’t you?”

Lightning looked as if he was not quite so sure. “Do I?”

“Yes!” Pinkie declared emphatically. “Sometimes the best way you can do right by you is to do something you enjoy, even if it’s just baking a cake.”

Lightning was silent for a moment, seeming to take in what Pinkie had just told him, before he smiled and nodded his head. “Alright then, I will,” he said. “Thank you. Both of you. This has been… a very good day.”

What If We Didn't?

What If We Didn’t?

“I haven’t heard you laugh like that in a long time,” Krysta said.

Lightning frowned. “Really?”

Krysta nodded. “Not since… since we were kids, on the lam together.”

Lightning’s frown deepened. “That… no, that can’t be right. I’ve laughed since then.”

“No,” Krysta replied, “you haven’t.”

Lightning looked down at her in bewilderment. “You mean to say that since we came to New Olympia I have not laughed once?”

“Yep,” Krysta said. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Lightning flicked his tail back and forth. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Okay then,” Krysta said. “It shouldn’t be any problem for you to prove me wrong then, should it? When have you laughed since we came to New Olympia?”

Lightning came to a halt. They were walking back to the library, with Miss Twilight leading the way – not that there was any need, but she was being polite and it pleased him to indulge her, plus it allowed him to drop back a little and talk to Krysta a little out of her earshot. He bowed his head, and furrowed his brow yet deeper as he thought. “Well… there was the time when… I think that… ah! I laughed when I won the tourney on my birthday last year.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“Why not?” Lightning demanded. “Laughter is laughter.”

“Triumphant crowing laughter is not the same thing as happy laughter, and it was happy laughter that I heard back there in that kitchen,” Krysta insisted. “That’s what I said: you haven’t laughed like that in a long time; not where I’ve heard you anyway.”

Lightning blinked. Several times. He worked his jaw silently as he thought back through his time in the palace, in the Star Legion, in training and tourney ground and battlefield. When had he laughed? Surely there had to have been at least one occasion when he had laughed, felt a rush of joy, felt that kind of pure exhilarating happiness that had consumed him in the bakery, that childish euphoria? Surely there had to have been at least one time? What about with Stellar, surely she had made him laugh? No, he was forced to conclude, no she hadn’t; there was a great deal that he admired about Stellar Shine – her iron sense of duty, her courage, her commitment to whatever task she set her mind to – but her wit was not among them and nor, he had to admit, was her warm heart. No, Stellar did not make him laugh. She did not bring him into situations that encourage laughter or joy.

Nor, for that matter, did his father, nor either of his adopted sisters.

“Diamond,” Lightning said. “Diamond must have made me laugh, everyone praises his wit.”

“Diamond makes me laugh, sometimes,” Krysta said. “But you never laugh at him, you glare at him with disapproval.”

“There’s a lot to disapprove of,” Lightning muttered.

“He’s just living his life,” Krysta said.

“He’s a wastrel and a libertine,” Lightning replied. “He lazes about the palace, living in the lap of luxury, blind to the sacrifices made by better ponies, contributing nothing to assist our father or uphold his cause.”

“At least he’s happy,” Krysta replied. “At least he has fun. Maybe he has a little too much fun but you know what, you could stand to learn a thing or two from him because you’ve got no answers, do you?” She placed her hands upon her hips. “You can’t think of a single example, can you?”

Lightning sighed with resignation. “No,” he admitted. “It seems so incredible to me that I am loath to admit it but… you’re right. I cannot.”

Krysta pursed her lips together. Her face fell. “You used to laugh. You used to have fun. Remember? Do you remember all the fun times we had together?”

“I remember,” Lightning said. “I remember that time… but then things changed.”

“You changed,” Krysta corrected him. “But you didn’t have to.”

“I-“

“Lightning?” Twilight asked, as she stopped and turned around to look back at the two of them. “Is everything okay?”

“Uh, yes, Miss Twilight,” Lightning said quickly. “I, um, Krysta and I require a word in private, if that is alright. Please, go on, we don’t wish to detain you.”

Krysta waved. “We’ll be fine. We can find the way. Or maybe I can just teleport us.”

Twilight smiled. By the gods she had the most lovely smile that he had ever beheld. It made her eyes… sparkle, although he would never have been able to say so aloud. “Well, okay. I’ll see you soon, then?”

“Yes, Miss Twilight,” Lightning said. He bowed his head. “And, Miss Twilight?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you,” Lightning said. “Once again.”

Twilight hesitated for a moment. “Of course,” she said. “Any time.”

She turned away, and resumed her walk back to her library. Lightning… he couldn’t help but watch her go. Something about her, the way… the way the inner light shone out of her. He didn’t want to take his eyes off her.

“This place has been good for you,” Krysta said. “And so has she.”

“I know,” Lightning said. “I haven’t felt… Krysta, can I tell you something?”

“You can tell me anything, you know that.”

Lightning nodded softly. “It grieves me that in a few short days we’ll have to leave all of this behind.”

Krysta fell silent for a moment. “What if… what if we didn’t?”

Lightning cocked his head to one side. “What if we didn’t… what?”

“What if we didn’t go back!” Krysta cried. “What if we didn’t go back to New Olympia, to the palace, to all the rest of it? What if… what if we stayed here?”

Lightning chuckled for a moment. Then he stopped, staring at her with what he was not too ashamed to admit was naked and unabashed surprise. “By the light, you’re serious?”

“Why shouldn’t I be?” Krysta said softly. She clasped her hands together in front of her and swayed from left to right. “I mean you like it here, right? And I like it here. So if we’re both happy here then why should we have to go back to a place where, let’s be real here, neither of us is happy.”

“I-“

“Don’t say that you’re happy in New Olympia, Lightning Dawn, if that were true you would have laughed one time in the last seven years,” Krysta said firmly.

Lightning sighed heavily. He felt as though he should have expected this. It had been naïve of him not to expect this. He knew - although it suited him sometimes to pretend otherwise, as unfair to Krysta as that was – that his adopted sister was not particularly happy in New Olympia and their living arrangements there. Had he really been so foolish as to think that his learning how to make her some sweet treats would count against the chance to… to escape from the life in which she was not happy, to one where she could be better off? “Krysta… I know that I don’t say often enough how grateful I am to you for… for staying with me all this time, for putting up with me and with… everything. It must sometimes seem as though I don’t notice, but I do… if my inaction isn’t worse than hypothetical ignorance. If you want to stay here then I’ll understand-“

“No!” Krysta said. “No, you dummy, that’s not what I want! This isn’t me telling you that I’m leaving you this is me asking you to take another step with me. To walk a different path, to choose a fresh start.” Her voice trembled, and it looked as though there might be tears in her eyes. “Stay here with me, and it can be like it was before, but better-“

“It’s not possible.”

“Why not?”

“We have a mission.”

“We can put the Prism Stone into the magical shoot when it opens up again to send it home, it doesn’t mean that we have to leap in ourselves,” Krysta said.

“I have a duty to my father and to the light-“

“The King has the ten thousand lances of the Star Legion to defend the light, and all the great guns of the Starfleet,” Krysta said. “Myriads of soldiers from across dozens of worlds all sworn to him; you’re just one pony, you’re not indispensable.”

“I never said I was,” Lightning replied in a slightly mulish tone.

“And he has Sunset Shimmer,” Krysta added. She smiled softly. “I hate to say this, but… an empire that has the Phoenix of Tantive IV to defend it doesn’t need you.”

“Maybe not, maybe you’re right,” Lightning said. “But where would the alliance be if every pony in the Star Legion and the Starfleet and all the rest felt like that? What if they all decided that they could shirk their duty because others would take it up for them?”

“That’s not going to happen and you know it,” Krysta declared. “There are others who can defend New Olympia and the light: Stellar, Cerise, Emerald and lots more like them. But only you have the chance to be happy here and now, with me.”

Lightning bit his lip. “I… Krysta…”

“Come on,” Krysta urged. “It’ll be even better than the old days.”

“How would we live?” Lightning asked. “We cannot trespass on Miss Twilight’s hospitality forever, eating her out of house and home.”

“We could get jobs,” Krysta said brightly. “Folks here are a lot friendlier than anywhere else we ever visited in case you hadn’t noticed. Ooh, we could open up a bakery! You can bake, and I’ll handle the front of house with my charming personality!”

Lightning grinned. “I can actually imagine that quite easily.”

“That’s because it’s a great idea,” Krysta said. “So are you in or not?”

Lightning said nothing for a moment. There was a part of him that wanted to tell Krysta no, to tell her not to spout such ridiculous rubbish, to mock the very idea of everything that she was proposing: he couldn’t abandon his duty to his father and his adopted people, he couldn’t shirk his duties as a sworn and anointed knight of the Star Legion, he couldn’t shrink from the great battle against the darkness when he had just discovered that which all New Olympia had been searching for ever since the exile of the King. He couldn’t turn away from all that he was, from the path that he had chosen when he was young and he had volunteered to go through with the augmentation process in order to better serve his father and repay all his kindnesses to him.

Or could he?

Because there was another part of Lightning, a part of him that wanted to say yes just as eagerly as that first part of him wished to say no, to take the different path that Krysta had laid out before him on this… this wonderful world. Equestria… it truly was a promised land, and though it was not quite what he had expected he could see quite easily why his people were so eager to return here. Krysta was right, the ponies here were so much friendlier than any other world which they had visited in their vagabond days; it was as if they had hearts so much larger than any other ponies’; hearts large enough to encompass, if not worlds, then at least two strangers from far beyond the stars.

And her… he could not deny that the thought of Miss Twilight was also weighing upon that side of his mind.

Oh brave new world that has such ponies in it.

Two roads led before him, and he knew not which to take.

“I… I will think on it,” he said.

Krysta’s eyes widened. “You… you will?”

“Yes,” Lightning said. “I will, seriously and sincerely I will think about it.”

Krysta stared at him. “Wow,” she said. “I gotta say, I didn’t actually expect that.”

“You thought I would refuse?”

“Well… yeah?”

“Then why did you ask?”

“Because I would have kicked myself if I hadn’t,” Krysta said. “Especially since you actually said… maybe?”

“Yes,” Lightning said. “Definitely maybe. I… I’ll have made up my mind by the time… by the time the time for our return arrives, if I decide to return.”

“If,” Krysta said, rolling the word on her tongue as though it were the most wonderful word that she had ever heard. “If, if, if, if. You know… there are times when I wonder why… and then you do something like this and I remember exactly why.”

Lightning smiled. “Thank you, for putting up with me.”

“Any time and for all time, brother,” Krysta said. She beamed. “I guess Twilight must have made a bigger impression on you than I thought, huh?”

“Well… let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Lightning said, feeling his face begin to burn up a little. “Although… I cannot deny that I…she makes me feel things that I am not accustomed to. I… I want to… I don’t know what I want. Except to call upon Miss Rarity and ask if she will do us a great favour.” Lightning paused, thinking about all that he hoped Miss Rarity, out of her grace and generosity, would grant him. “Make that three great favours.”

The Carousel Boutique stood out to Lightning as he and Krysta approached. Amidst this rustic town it shone as a beacon of elegance, the sort of place that one might see even in New Olympia, as a town house for a family of modest gentility who wished to have a presence in the capital even as their main estate remained out in the country somewhere. Had he not spent a couple of days here already, and been shown around the town what was more, he would have assumed that it was the residence of the local grandee, and not a shop at all.

Still, when he considered the reasons why he had come here he reminded himself to be glad that it was, in fact, a shop.

The reasons why he had come here…

Lightning slowed to a halt as a wave of doubt assailed him. He had come here on a mission and yet so far he had done absolutely nothing to advance the cause or mission that had sent him to Equestria. He was no closer to finding the Prism Stone now than when he had fallen from the sky.

And what had he done instead? He squandered his time with Miss Twilight, and to a lesser extent with her friends, even to the extent of considering abandoning his home and his life to stay here.

Because though it be a squandering he had had such a good time here nonetheless.

“Lightning?” Krysta asked. “Is everything okay?”

“I… I was just wondering…” Lightning murmured, because how could he tell her immediately after he had promised to think about staying here that he was now worried that there stay here had been a waste of time.

“You’re wondering if you haven’t done enough since you’ve been here,” Krysta said.

Lightning said, “How did you-“

“Because I know you, as much as it feels like you’ve tried to cut me out of your life sometimes,” Krysta said.

“Krysta-“

“Don’t,” Krysta said, holding up one hand. “This is the part where you tell me that I’ve overreacting and I tell you that this is how I feel and then we argue for a bit before you apologise, isn’t it? Let’s just skip past that for a bit so I can ask you this question: have you enjoyed yourself here?”

“Yes,” Lightning said. “More than I thought that I would. More than I thought that I could.”

“And you’re still thinking about it, right?”

“Of course I am,” Lightning replied. “But even if we do stay here we still have an obligation to complete our mission – our last mission, maybe – for His Majesty. And that… is not something I can honestly say that we’ve been doing.”

“Isn’t Princess Celestia going to talk to you about that at the party?”

“Yes, but-“

“Then what’s there to worry about?”

“The fact that… I feel as though I should be doing more,” Lightning said.

“I know you do,” Krysta said. “And that’s… it annoys me a lot, how committed you are to duty, but I suppose that I ought to admit that if you weren’t that way… if you didn’t give it everything you had, you probably wouldn’t be my brother who I love so much. But you should remember better than I do where we are: this is Equestria, we’re going to meet with Princess Celestia! Don’t you think that she’ll have the answers? Don’t you think that we can afford to spend a little time enjoying paradise? Don’t you think that doubting her is like a sin or something?”

“I don’t think that’s quite how it works,” Lightning said. “But I take your point.”

“Plus, you know, what else are we going to do?” Krysta said. “To be honest, what were we supposed to do? Search every inch of a whole world in seven days?”

“We were supposed to make contact with friendly authorities and enlist their aid.”

“Which we’ve done,” Krysta said. “And so we can relax while they do all the work.”

Lightning shook his head. “When you say things like that I can understand why Stellar thinks that you’re a corrupting influence upon me.”

“Well you know what I think about Stellar so you know what? I take that as a compliment.”

“Of course you do,” Lightning said. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

He stepped over the step and with a single hoof pushed open the door to Carousel Boutique. It was not… he would have said that it was not what he had expected except what had he expected? He had never had occasion to visit a lady’s dressmakers before, and to be quite honest he would have had no occasion to do so now save that she seemed to be the only kind of tailor in town. Although it was clear from the articles of clothing hanging from the many metal racks, or else adorning the many ponikins who stood like silent sentinels on guard throughout the room, that gowns were Miss Rarity’s primary passion and product, nevertheless he could see one or two suits here.

He could not, on the other hoof, see Miss Rarity anywhere, but he could hear her humming somewhere he could not see.

“Miss Rarity?” he called.

“Coming, darling,” Rarity replied. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Lightning hoped that that was not an indication that they were going to be expected to wait for a very long time. And it was in part a protest against that assumption that led him to remain standing even as Krysta took a seat on a cushion near the door.

It was not, in fact, a very long time to wait; in fact it was mere moments before Rarity emerged, trotting into view, a pair of pince-nez set upon her nose. “Now then, what can I do for- oh, Prince Lightning Dawn, what a surprise to see you here. Is Twilight with you?”

“No, Miss Rarity, she is not,” Lightning said. “Although she is the cause of my – our – being here.”

“Hi!” Krysta said, waving her hand.

“Oh, I’m sorry Krysta dear, I didn’t see you there,” Rarity said. “But you say that Twilight is the cause of your being here? Whatever do you mean?” A touch of concern entered her voice. “There’s nothing wrong, is there?”

“No,” Lightning said immediately. “When I left her she was on her way back to the library. No, what I mean is that… Miss Rarity you may or may not be aware that I have been asked to attend this, what is the name… the Grand Galloping Gala, where I will receive an audience with Princess Celestia.”

“I am aware of that, yes,” Rarity said softly.

“Miss Twilight told you?”

“She did,” Rarity replied. “We are her friends, after all.”

“She is fortunate to have so many in whom she can confide,” Lightning said.

Rarity chuckled. “We’re lucky to have her, too. But, if you’ll forgive me, I still don’t see why this necessitates you to call on me, as honoured as I am to receive a prince of a foreign land.”

“Well, it has occurred to me, Miss Rarity, that I have no attire that would be suitable to attend such a formal occasion,” Lightning said. “Since I doubt that armour would be acceptable.”

“Quite right, it certainly would not,” Rarity murmured. “So, you came to me because you need a suit?”

“If that is what a gentleman ought to wear then yes,” Lightning replied. “And something for Krysta also. I know that this must seem both a trivial thing and at the same time an imposition on my part, and I confess that I am not entirely sure how can I repay you, but…”

Rarity blinked behind her pince-nez as she waited for him to continue. “But, Prince Lightning?”

“I am Miss Twilight Sparkle’s guest,” Lightning said. “I would not like to embarrass her by attending this gala improperly dressed. In fact, I would… I would very much like to please her, which brings us on to the third favour that I would ask of you, Miss Rarity?”

Rarity had a faint, knowing smile playing across her face, although what she knew or thought she knew Lightning could not begin to guess at. “Go on, darling?”

“I… I do not know how you dance in this world,” Lightning said, feeling his face go red, or at least the parts of it that were not grey or black. “And even in my own world I am no graceful dancer. I was hoping that you, who seem to be a veritable model of grace and elegance, might give me some basic instruction.”

Rarity’s eyebrows rose. “Why, Prince Lightning Dawn, are you asking me to teach you how to dance?”

“I… I suppose I am,” Lightning said. “If that is possible in so short a span of time.”

“Hmm.” Rarity’s smile seemed to grow a little wider. “And this is all for Twilight’s sake?”

“She… she is worthy of a little effort on my part, don’t you agree.”

“Oh, quite,” Rarity said. “You needn’t worry about the cost, Prince Lightning, your suit – and Krysta’s dress – come gratis, on the house to a friend of Twilight Sparkle.”

“Miss Rarity, I cannot possibly-“

“Shh shhh, I insist, darling, and I won’t hear another word about it,” Rarity declared.

“At least-“

“You may be a prince of New Olympia or what have you,” Rarity said. “But you are in my shop now, your highness and it is my will, not yours, that matters and shall prevail within these walls.”

Lightning was surprised to feel his lips turning upwards. “Then I hear and obey, Miss Rarity.”

“Plus, I’ve never had a customer quite like Krysta before,” Rarity added. “And unique challenges are always a delight. Now, if you please, Prince Lightning, get up onto the platform over there,” she gestured to a round blue podium in the centre of the room. “And I will take your measurements.”

Long hours lying in ambush – he did not like to take his enemies in such a fashion, he preferred to face them in the field with his armour gleaming and his spearpoint catching the sunlight as he charged; but there were times when the more stealthy approach could not be avoided no matter how dishonourable it was – had taught Lightning the ability to stand perfectly still and not move, and if he had learned that skill to avoid giving away his position in the thicket or the ditch it was no less helpful here as he stood upon the raised podium while Rarity, with that deft use of her magic that he had already seen but continued to wonder at, took the measurements of his legs, his chest, his flank; measured his height to the shoulder, his length, his muscular girth. She hummed gently to herself as she took his measurements, occasionally interrupting to murmur something that only she understood as she jotted down the numbers that her tape informed her of. Once she had taken his measurements she retired to a table, where she began to scribble on a piece of paper, muttering to herself all the while.

“Something classic, yes, and very classy,” Rarity said. “But not too staid, oh no, something with a touch of uniqueness about it. And the colour…yes. Yes!” She looked up at Lightning. “Just leave it with me, darling. Oh, Twilight’s going to love this. Now, Krysta, your turn.”

Lightning got down, and Krysta’s gossamer wings spread out on either side of her as she fluttered up from her cushion and across the boutique to stand on the platform.

“So, um, is it arms out?” Krysta said, holding out her arms in a T to demonstrate what she meant.

“Yes, that’s absolutely perfect, now hold it right there for a moment,” Rarity said, as she once more got to work taking Krysta’s measurements. However, while Lightning had only been required to stand as still as any of the graven statues in the Hall of Heroes, Rarity actually spoke to Krysta as she worked. “I hope you don’t take offence, Prince Lightning, when I say that you don’t appear to have much of an idea of what you want out of this.”

“Beyond something to wear that will make me acceptable and not make Miss Twilight an object of second-hand derision,” Lightning said. “No, I do not. I am, after all, a stranger here.”

“And he never had much fashion sense anyway,” Krysta said.

Rarity chuckled. “I thought as much. You, on the other hoof, look as though you have some opinions about what you wear.”

“You noticed my sense of style?” Krysta asked, her face brightening. “What do you think? Cool, huh?”

“It’s very you, darling.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Krysta asked. “Because it sounds like the sort of thing you say when you can’t think of anything actually nice to say.”

“Oh, not at all,” Rarity assured her. “One should never lose sight of one’s own personal style. The boldest choice is always to be you, and when it comes to fashion the boldest choice is often the best. So, what kind of gown would you like for the gala?”

Lightning attempted to follow their conversation where it led, but they lost him in the mire of discussion on train and A-lines and ballgowns and how much of Krysta’s legs should or would be visible, and that was even before they got started on a collar. A collar! How could there be so many different types of collar? Wasn’t it just something that went around the neck?

Anyway, he soon lost track of what they were talking about and what it all amounted to, but he didn’t particularly care because Krysta seemed to understand it perfectly as she talked in an increasingly animated fashion with Rarity about…fashion things, which might as well have been a discussion of the finer points of mineralogy for all that Lightning understood it but Krysta seemed to understand it very well, to be attentive to it and engaged with it, and that was good enough for him.

She didn’t get to smile enough in New Olympia, and that was as much as his fault as anypony else’s.

That was more his fault than anypony else’s.

If they did stay here… staying here in Equestria would be worth it if she would smile more often, and talk so animatedly and find more things that she could be engaged with and passionate about.

I never meant to neglect you. I certainly never meant to hurt you. But I’m afraid that along the way I ended up doing both.

And by shrinking from the way I know to make this right I may be compounding the error.

“That certainly gives me something to get on with,” Rarity said. “I must admit that I usually don’t do my best work with rush orders, but for something like this and with an opportunity like you, Krysta, you can rest assured that, well, the rules of Rarity guarantee the very highest quality, you may depend upon it.”

“I do, Miss Rarity,” Lightning said. “But I am sure that with your deft command of magic you will produce something truly splendid.”

“Oh, my deft command of magic indeed,” Rarity scoffed. “A little facility with telekinesis is nothing, Prince Lightning, nothing at all. It is all in the eye of the artiste. Now, there was one more thing you wanted before I got started, wasn’t there?”

Lightning felt as though he might have rather faced a charge of the Saturnine Hetairoi than be where he was at the moment. The elite troops of his father’s great enemy might kill him but at least they wouldn’t force him to embarrass himself first. “Dance lessons.”

“Don’t look so alarmed, darling,” Rarity said. “I’m sure you can’t be that bad. Show me a few steps.”

Lightning stomped forwards, and then slightly sideways with a heavy thump.

“My word, you aren’t very good at this, are you?” Rarity murmured. “Never mind, Twilight isn’t that good at it either, I must confess. She has… great enthusiasm,” she said. “But amongst her many, many sterling qualities I’m afraid that she has yet to master a ladylike grace. Never mind, she is still very young.”

“Is she?” Lightning asked. “I understood that you were all contemporaries?”

Rarity paused for a moment. “I suppose we are, although I am slightly the elder; indeed Applejack and I are tied in years for the eldest of our happy band, and while I think Pinkie has Twilight pipped as the youngest of us because they both seem so young, albeit in different ways. With Twilight… it is her inexperience, if you follow. She has lived most of her life within the walls of her magic school, half taught and half raised by Princess Celestia, and only now has she been set free from the gilded cage and she is so charmingly eager to fly. To see everything that she can see, to do everything that she might do.” She cleared her throat. “But we aren’t here to talk about Twilight Sparkle, are we? No, Prince Lightning, we are here to correct your – let’s not sugarcoat it – appalling form. Now, get up on the tips of your hooves. Surely a stallion like you has had cause to be light-hoofed at some point.”

“Upon occasion, Miss Rarity.”

“Well, such an occasion has come upon you now,” Rarity said primly. “Up on your hooftips and balance there for me, there’s a good fellow.”

Lightning did as he was bidden, raising himself up on the points of his hoofs and sustaining his weight there, feeling the pressure upon the narrow points.

Rarity’s horn flared as he levitated a black disc onto something that Lightning guessed to be a record player of some description. His guess was proven right when sweeping classical music – with a strong double bass – began to emerge from the brass trumpet.

“Now then, darling,” Rarity said. “Follow my lead, and let the music sweep you away.”

The Best Night Ever? (Part 1)

The Best Night Ever? (Part 1)

The night of the Grand Galloping Gala had arrived, or perhaps – since it was now only the late afternoon – it would be more accurate to say that the day of the night of the Grand Galloping Gala had arrived.

All the hopes and dreams of Miss Twilight’s friends seemed to hang upon this night like precious stones hanging from a necklace, for reasons that Lightning could not entirely explain but was not particularly inclined to question; their reasons were their own, and he was willing to accept Miss Twilight’s explanation that he ‘had to be there’ to comprehend. And besides, it wasn’t as if he himself was not also looking to this night for answers and fulfilment. For tonight was the night when he would stand in the presence of Princess Celestia of far fame, she whose beauty had driven kingdoms to war and spread strife even between brothers, she whose greatness was renowned throughout the stars, she who ruled over paradise itself. Tonight he would stand in the presence of a legend and, so he hoped, have all his questions answered. Tonight he would, he devoutly hoped, find out something that would enable him to tell himself that he hadn’t just been wasting his time in Equestria since he arrived.

He was both looking forward to it and at the same time utterly terrified by the prospect. He was to meet with Princess Celestia, about whom he had grown up with stories, and if that was not enough to fill him with both trepidation and excitement in equal measure then there was also the fact that his quest in Equestria seemed to ride upon the outcome of his meeting. If Princess Celestia knew ought of the Prism Stone then his success was assured, if not… and what if she decided that she would only help him if he passed some test that she set for him, met some standards that she held during their interview, impressed her in some fashion? What if he failed the test and in doing so failed the quest, failed his people? Failed his father? Whether or not he decided to stay in Equestria as Krysta wished, he would not want it to be thought that he had chosen to hide away because he feared to face up to the consequences of failing his mission for the stone. He did not think that he could bear for that to be thought of him.

For Krysta’s sake he might suffer to be a thought a deserter; but not even for her did he think that he could bear to be thought a coward.

And besides, the need of his father for the stone was great. Without all the Prism Stones then those that they did manage to acquire were, if not quite worthless, then of little worth compared to the value of a complete set. With the Star Legion so hard pressed by powers innumerable, with the shadow of the Serpent Authority growing to add to the enemies that they already faced, the power of the Prism Stones was sorely needed. If Princess Celestia did not know of them… if he could not persuade her to tell him what she knew… yes, that was what he feared most; not her ignorance, for this was Princess Celestia after all, the legendary Princess Celestia, ruler of Equestria, archmage, ruler, prize of princes. But if she did not like him, if she took against him for whatever reason… and it seemed, based on the uncomfortable interview with Captain Shining Armour, that she might have already done so.

And if that was the case then this might all be for nothing.

Lightning endeavoured to keep his misgivings off his face, distracting himself by watching Miss Twilight Sparkle as she worked. She was studying a new spell, one that she had been working on in preparation for this night, and she seemed to be succeeding in spite of the best efforts of Pinkie Pie to distract her as she bounced up and down upon a nearby trampoline. It appeared that for her many sterling virtues restraint was not one of them. Nevertheless, Miss Twilight persisted with her studies, and Lightning found that he could see her mind racing through her eyes as she absorbed the information, made the connections, understood things that she had not a moment before. And all through her eyes, the light that he could see in her eyes, the sparkle that he could see there as she scanned there. It was… beguiling.

He felt that he could sit here upon the grass and watch her mind work all day.

Miss Rarity emerged from Carousel Boutique to rebuke Pinkie for her over-manic behaviour, but upon the way Lightning espied her, out of the corner of his eye, giving him a knowing glance, as though she guessed at the thoughts that he was keeping hidden.

He was not particularly concerned. She could think what she liked; she could guess at whatever she would of his thoughts and feelings; watching Miss Twilight gave him solace, and banished his doubts and his fears and his reproaches, and so he would do so unless or until she asked him to cease.

She had not done so yet.

Miss Rarity gestured towards him with her snout, and as Pinkie leapt down from off the trampoline the two of them whispered together for a while, both of them glancing towards Lightning and Twilight; something seemed to be amusing the pair of them, or else it seemed to be making them glad. They ceased as the remainder of Miss Twilight’s friends – Rainbow Dash, Applejack and Fluttershy – arrived to join them.

“Perfect,” Miss Twilight declared, slamming the book shut with a decided finality, a proud look upon her face. “I’m ready.”

“You have mastered the spell, Miss Twilight?” Lightning asked.

“What spell?” Rainbow asked, looking torn between a desire to know and a distaste for Lightning’s presence.

“Spike,” Twilight said, and like a subject king presenting tribute to the King of Kings as a sign of his fealty and respect, Spike produced an apple red as blood and laid it at Twilight’s hooves before retreating.

“An apple?” Pinkie said. “Are we having pie?”

“No, she’s going to make it huge,” Krysta said. “Or maybe she’s going to multiply them so they can feed five thousand ponies.”

“Ah hope not,” Applejack said. “Ah’m the only one who’s supposed to be selling apples at the gala.”

“Then maybe-“

“It’s not a guessing game, Krysta,” Lightning murmured. “Let Miss Twilight work.”

“Sorry.”

Twilight chuckled, covering her mouth demurely with one hoof as she did so; her laughter was like the sound of water babbling through a brook, and even more pleasing to the ear. “That’s alright, Krysta. Now, I just need to concentrate for a moment.”

Her horn flared with a glow of purple magic, and Lightning watched as the apple bulged and warped before his eyes, expanding outwards – so that for a moment he thought that Krysta was about to be proved right – before it turned out to be much more complicated than that. Not only did the apple expand – and greatly so, it swelled to the size of a small dwelling – but it completely transformed also into an old-fashioned carriage, such as the gentry might have ridden in in elder days, complete with a yolk to harness somepony to pull it.

Although who that somepony might be was not altogether obvious.

“Once again, I must bow my head before your mastery of the arcane arts,” Lightning declared, literally bowing his head as Twilight’s friends pressed close around her with congratulations on her skill. “The things that you can do…neither I nor anypony I know could even conceive of them, let alone accomplish them.”

“Well, I… I try my best,” Twilight said, as a slight flush of colour rose to her cheeks. “Besides, I’m not quite done yet. Fluttershy, did you bring your friends?”

“Yes,” Fluttershy said, as four white mice poked their heads up from out of her mane. She bowed her head to let them escape down onto the ground. “Will they be safe, Twilight?”

“You have my word,” Twilight declared, as the four mice assembled in pairs in front of her.

“Far be it from me to doubt you upon your sacred word, Miss Twilight,” Lightning said.

“Then don’t,” Rainbow muttered.

“But may I ask,” Lightning added, ignoring Rainbow Dash. “What you intend to do with those creatures?”

“I’m going to transform them into something that can pull our coach to Canterlot,” Twilight explained, her tone ever so slightly contriving to suggest that he ought to have worked that out for himself by now.

A frown furrowed Lightning’s brow. “I have to say, Miss Twilight, I would prefer it if you did not.”

“But why?” Twilight said.

“Because transfiguration of apples is all very well,” Lightning said. “And serves as a fitting showcase for your skill. But to apply that skill to living creatures is to usurp the functions of heaven; there are certain kinds of magic that should not be practiced upon living creatures, and perverting the forms that nature has endowed them with is one of them.”

“Perverting?” Rainbow said. “Where do you get off talking to Twilight like that-“

“Hold on now, Rainbow Dash,” Applejack said. “I’m sure he didn’t mean to imply nothing about Twilight, he just don’t like this particular kind of magic, ain’t that right?”

“Exactly,” Lightning said. “I would never insult Miss Twilight so, I merely do not wish to see her start walking down a dark path.”

“I have to admit,” Applejack said. “I’m not sure how much I like the idea of messing with folks like that. I’m not sure I’d like it if some feller decided to turn me into a, a newt or something without asking just because they could.”

Twilight’s face fell. “I… I suppose that… I can see your point, both of you. I was just so focussed on making this perfect that I didn’t stop to think…Fluttershy, I’m sorry. I don’t need your animals for this, and I’m sorry that I wanted to use your friends that way.”

“It’s okay, Twilight,” Fluttershy said, although she couldn’t quite keep the relief out of her voice. “You can go along home now,” she said to the mice. “I’ll be back soon.”

The mice scurried away, and Lightning fancied that he caught a grateful look upon their faces as he did so.

“Thank you, Miss Twilight,” Lightning said.

“I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Twilight said.

“And I thank you for the consideration, although my consideration was as much for your sake as that of those creatures,” Lightning replied.

“Regardless, thank you for speaking up; it’s not something that you need to feel ashamed of doing even if you’re afraid it might upset me,” Twilight added, with a bit of a glance at Rainbow Dash. “Although... without the mice, who will pull our carriage.”

“If that is your fear, Miss Twilight, then perhaps I might be of assistance,” Lightning said.

“You?” Rarity asked, while Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes.

“I have a strong back, and four stout legs,” Lightning said. “And I am already fashioned to bear harness such as this carriage possesses.”

“But all by yourself?” Twilight said.

“Yeah, remember we’re all going to be sitting inside it,” Rainbow said. “I’d hate to see you make a promise that you couldn’t keep.”

Lightning met her gaze evenly. “I assure you that I am more than capable of this.” He didn’t bring up the fact that he had once pulled a sled loaded with supplies over an ice shelf for three days to bring them to an isolate outpost under siege, because he didn’t want to seem a braggart, but rather he sought to convey by his bearing and manner that this would present no obstacle to him.

“That maybe so, but you’ll be all sweaty doing it,” Rarity said. “You’ll ruin your suit!”

“Be assured, Miss Rarity, I shall pace myself so as to avoid that,” Lightning said. “Please, Miss Twilight, I know that I have disrupted your plans for the evening, and in more ways than one. Allow me to make amends for it, as a gentlecolt should.” He bowed. “It would be my honour to convey you all to Canterlot for tonight’s festivities.”

Twilight hesitated for a moment, before she said, “Very well, Prince Lightning, if you think you can do it then we won’t stand in your way.”

Shortly thereafter the group broke up, with Miss Twilight and her friends retiring to Carousel Boutique to get changed into their evening gowns; Krysta might have gone with them, but she preferred to join Lightning in retiring to the library where they changed into their attire for the evening.

Obviously they didn’t change in the same room; that would have been…rather unseemly. Instead, Krysta got changed in Miss Twilight’s sleeping quarters in the upper floor, while Lightning had the ground floor to himself but, to avoid the chance of him say anything more of Krysta than was right and decent, he confined himself to an alcove beneath Miss Twilight’s room from which he was unable to see anything going on upstairs.

“So tell me something,” Krysta said, her voice floating down from above. “Why is it unnatural to transform animals with magic but not to cut little foals open and augment their guts with cybertech and all that stuff?”

Lightning blinked, pausing in the middle of doing up his dress shirt. “Krysta… there is no comparison between what is done to volunteers for the Star Legion and what Miss Twilight wished to do to those mice.”

“Yeah, from where I was standing it was like the mice got the better deal,” Krysta said.

“That’s absurd,” Lightning said.

“Is it? Is it really?”

“Yes,” Lightning replied. “That’s why I said it was absurd.”

“What makes it absurd?”

“I had a choice,” Lightning said. “I volunteered. I gave consent. All things of which Miss Fluttershy’s mice were quite incapable.”

“You consented because your head was so full of duty and honour and-“

“Krysta,” Lightning growled, cutting her off. “You know that I don’t like it when you talk like this.”

Krysta was silent upstairs for a moment. “You get what I’m trying to say, right? You might not have changed your shape but you were changed just as much as any spell that Twilight could have cast. And your changes were permanent.”

“My changes were for the greater good,” Lightning declared. “Would you have liked me to remain unaugmented, a vacuous parasite like Crystal? Don’t answer that,” he added quickly. “Krysta, why are you bringing this up?”

“You brought it up,” Krysta reminded him. “I just don’t really get where you’re coming from. You got… you got messed up-“

“I wouldn’t call it that-“

“I would,” Krysta replied forcefully. “You screamed when they cut you open, don’t you remember that?”

“No,” Lightning said softly. “I remember. I am ashamed to think back on it now, but I remember. It hurt a great deal.”

“But you won’t hear a word said against it?”

“I am not ashamed of the choices that I made.”

“But you won’t let Twilight cast a spell on some mice?”

Lightning was silent for a moment, his chest rising and falling. “It wasn’t duty or honour,” he said.

“Huh?”

“I didn’t go through with all of the procedures to make me better, faster, stronger, all the augments of a knight because of duty or honour or even because I wanted to serve His Majesty better,” Lightning said. “I did it… so that I would be strong enough to protect you. The way that I hadn’t been strong enough before. That’s the difference. I put myself through that… for your sake, not just for temporary expedience, to fill a need that could just as easily be filled some other way. That is why… I asked Miss Twilight not to cast that spell.”

There was a moment of silence from up above, then another, then another. At last Krysta spoke, her voice sounding a little hoarse. “You’re such a moron sometimes.”

“Krysta?”

“Let’s just… let’s just finish getting ready, okay?” Krysta said. “I… can we just do that?”

Lightning bowed his head, although he knew that she couldn’t see it any more than he could see her. “Of course,” he said quietly.

Lightning was no student of the fashions of this world, but it seemed to him as though Miss Rarity had done him quite proud. He was dressed in a white jacket with a black collar, and a ruffled white dress shirt underneath, and a black bow tie fastened around his neck. Rarity had also given him a red carnation to wear in his buttonhole, but with Lightning’s telekinesis being what it was – awful – he had no chance of getting that in without assistance.

“Krysta?” he called up. “Are you finished?”

“Yep,” Krysta said, as she fluttered down from the upper floor. She had changed her usual black hair to a platinum blonde for the occasion, styled with sweeping bangs from right to left – minus a few artfully undone strands of hair which fell loosely down on either side of her face – and a long high ponytail which fell down her back almost to the floor, fastened in place by a clasp of blue beads. Her gown was blue, with a ruffled skirt up to her waist where it was stopped short by an aquamarine sash tied into a bow in front of her. The shoulders were plain, but her arms were covered by a pair of long black gloves which seemed to Lightning to be the only concession made to Krysta’s usual style. She had painted her lips a bright neon blue, and a riot of different blue shades had been painted around her eyes in a mix of shapes that seemed almost like cold fire, flickering flames dancing upon her face.

“How do I look?” she asked, posing as she landed, her feet – the slippers that clad them visible for just a moment from beneath her dress – touching the wooden floor.

“You look… I’ve never seen you look like this before,” Lightning murmured.

“I never had a chance to look like this before, did I?” Krysta asked. “Some people didn’t get invited to all the smart parties.”

“You weren’t missing very much, I promise,” Lightning said.

“Whatever,” Krysta said. “I’m going to miss this. Hey, you’re not wearing that flower Rarity gave you.”

“Well, I was hoping that you-“

“Oh, right!” Krysta said, picking up the carnation from the table on which it sat and deftly with her little fingers putting it in his buttonhole where it belonged. “There, perfect. And I mean that, you look pretty cool.”

“Really?” Lightning said. “I’m not sure how I’m supposed to tell.”

“You’re supposed to tell by believing your sister when she tells you that you look pretty cool,” Krysta said. “I’m sure Twilight’s going to love it.”

“We’re here for business, not pleasure,” Lightning reminded her, with a touch of sternness in his voice.

“Sure thing, sweet cheeks,” Krysta said, patting him on the cheeks to bring home – as if her tone had not already done that – that she didn’t really believe him. “Do you need me to get the hat, too?” she asked, gesturing towards the white top hat that was sitting on the same table, near where the carnation had been.

“No, I think I can get the hat myself,” Lightning said, as he reached out with his neck and grabbed that by the brim with his teeth, tossing it up into the air so that it landed – almost perfectly, at a slight angle – atop his head.

Krysta’s – blonde now, like her hair – eyebrows rose. “Have you been practicing that?”

“No.”

“Because if you had then you should have waited until Twilight could see you do it.”

“I have not been practicing,” Lightning said. “I have natural skills in certain areas.”

“Natural skills,” Krysta repeated. “Sure.”

Lightning glanced briefly into a nearby mirror. “It’s a little off, could you-“

“Leave it,” Krysta said. “It looks jaunty the way it is.”

Lightning glanced at her. “Jaunty?”

“Yeah,” Krysta replied. “Trust me, it works.”

Lightning decided that he would have to take her word for it. She had always given more thought to these matters than him, and he did not believe that – in spite of the fact that he had in many ways given her cause to do so – she would intentionally set out to embarrass him in front of Miss Twilight and the others. “Shall we go then?”

Krysta beamed. “Yeah, let’s light this town on fire!”

“I beg your pardon?”

Krysta sighed. “Let’s go.”

They left, and arrived at the carriage first, where they spent a little time waiting for Miss Twilight and her friends to arrive, but not so long that Lightning felt bored before the ladies – and Spike – put in an appearance. They were all well dressed, Miss Twilight’s friends in a variety of elegant and lovely dresses, and Spike in a dark suit contrasting with the white of Lightning’s own attire – but he could not have denied – even if he had wanted to – that it was Miss Twilight’s dress, Twilight Sparkle herself, that drew his gaze and held it there, as spellbound by her looks as by any of the magic of which she was a master could have rendered him.

She was gowned in starlight, her midnight blue dress flowing over her flanks to almost, but not quite, touch the ground, where stars of silver and white sparkled as her name upon the hem and on the light blue saddle both. Her collar was high, after the fashion of a mage, and decorated with a few more subdued stars than those which adorned her dress. Another star formed the clasp that bound her gown across her chest, while she wore yet another in her left ear. Still other stars climbed from her light blue slippers up her forelegs, and yet this veritable galaxy in which she was arrayed did not to Lightning’s eyes appear too much. Rather it seemed perfect on her, and perfect for her too, suited to her name, her nature, and to all that he had seen of her and learned of her since he had crashed so rudely to the ground in her home. She sparkled in his sight, and he could not tear his eyes away.

He did not wish to do so.

“Lightning?” Twilight asked, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. “Are you okay?”

I am, for seeing you thus. Lighting felt the words – so melodramatic, so over the top, far too ridiculous to say – catch in his throat. He felt more nervous than he would have done facing twenty thousands dread serpents of the Authority, or leading a boarding party to capture a Saturnine dreadnought.

Yet he was a knight, and a knight was master of his fear. He took a step forward, and then another, though his feet felt as heavy as if they were tied to great boulders as part of some training exercise. He took another step, and prayed that his courage would not falter as he reached out with one heavy-feeling hoof and gently took Miss Twilight’s hoof in his and raised it to his lips. “Miss Twilight Sparkle, you are a… a vision of loveliness.”

Twilight looked away from him. “Well… thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Lightning released her hoof, where it fell lightly to the ground. “I thank you, Miss Twilight. If you are all prepared then perhaps you would help me into the harness.”

“Right,” Twilight said. “Yes, of course.”

As Lightning turned away towards the apple coach he could not miss the way in which Rainbow Dash was scowling in his direction, while Rarity was smiling at him fondly.

“Cheer up, Rainbow Dash,” Applejack said. “It’s the gala. Ain’t this what we’ve been waiting for?”

“Yeah,” Rainbow said. “But-“

“I get it,” Applejack said. “But soon enough this will all be over, and trust me once you start hanging out with the Wonderbolts you ain’t gonna have space left on your mind for nothing else.”

Rainbow was silent for a second, before she grinned. “Yeah, I guess not. Why should I let that guy get to me? Like you said, it’s the gala.”

As Miss Twilight’s friends either climbed into the transformed carriage or, in Spike’s case, climbed up onto the driver’s platform up front, Lightning took his place between the yolk.

“Are you sure you can manage this all by yourself?” Twilight asked. “I intended this carriage to be pulled by more than one pony.”

“And yet I will bear it nonetheless, Miss Twilight,” Lightning said. “You may depend upon me.”

“Okay,” Twilight said, as she fastened him in. “Good luck,” she added, offering him a slight smile. “Rarity’s right, by the way, it would be a shame to ruin that suit.”

And with that she disappeared into the carriage with her friends, leaving Lightning alone outside with Spike and Krysta on the driver’s plate.

“Do not touch those reins, Spike,” Lightning said, as he felt them twitch.

“But I’m the driver!” Spike protested.

“Nominally, perhaps,” Lightning murmured. “But I do not require, nor do I want, to be driven like some common pack mule. The city is large enough – and the palace distinct enough – that I believe I can find my way.”

“Oh,” Spike said, sounding slightly dispirited.

“Don’t worry, Spike,” Krysta said. “It’ll give us more of a chance to talk, right?”

“Yeah,” Spike said, after a moment. “Yeah, I guess it will.”

Lightning took a deep breath, stepped in place for a moment, and then heaved.

The carriage was a little heavier than he had anticipated, but then it was carrying six mares within. He pushed. It resisted his strength. Lightning heaved again, his muscles straining, and after a moment the carriage began to move. It was slow, at first, the wheels and weight of the transfigured carriage resisting, but after a moment Lightning’s strength began to work in tandem with the momentum of the movement, and it was no more difficult for him to keep the carriage on the road than it was to keep putting one hoof in front of the other.

And with that they were on the road to Canterlot.

Lightning pulled the carriage up and down rolling hills, where the carriage either strained at his back as the gradient pulled upon it or else pressed so hard upon him that he was forced to risk a touch of sweat in quickening his pace to avoid an injury; he pulled it past groves of cedar and of quince trees, standing tall amidst the otherwise flat and deserted meadows, a magnet for every nesting bird around; he pulled it beneath the shadows of tall mountains topped with snow, casting their shadows as the light of the day died, then casting fainter shadows by the moonlight that crept over the world as the lesser orb swiftly rose to take the place of its descended sister. He pulled the carriage down the road of stone, his hooves tapping upon the grey surface in counterpoint to the grinding of the wheels, and as he pulled the carriage he listened to the chattering behind him: some of it was coming from within the carriage itself, as Miss Twilight and her friends excitedly discussed the upcoming Gala and all their plans, hopes, dreams and ambitions for the event; but some of it came from more directly behind him, as Spike regaled Krysta with the glories of Canterlot as he perceived them. Some of them were even things that Lightning himself might have regarded as objects worthy of note to visitors – a part of him rather wished to see the golden apple tree himself – others, like his favourite doughnut shop, said rather more about Spike himself than about the city and its treasures.

Of course he was thinking that while not actually knowing what a doughnut was.

“What is a doughnut, anyway?” Krysta asked the question that Lightning’s dignity would not permit him too.

Spike was silent, and Lightning found he could imagine the boggling look on the young dragon’s face. “You don’t know what a doughnut is?”

“Nope. Does it grow on trees?”

“Oh, we have got to the doughnut shop now!” Spike cried. “Hey, Pinkie, Krysta doesn’t know what a doughnut is.”

There was no response from inside the carriage, only the excited chattering of the ladies within.

“Uh… I’ll tell them when we get there,” Spike said.

“Yeah,” Krysta said, sounding not entirely convinced. “Don’t get your hopes up, Spike.”

“My hopes? What are you talking about?”

“Well… it sounds as though they’ve all got pretty big plans of their own at this gala, even if you don’t count the business Twilight and Lightning have with the princess,” Krysta said.

“But I want to give them my insider’s tour of Canterlot,” Spike said.

“I know, and I get it,” Krysta said. Lightning could practically feel her eyes burning into the back of his skull. “Believe me, I get it. Sometimes… sometimes the kid sibling just gets overlooked, you know.”

Spike didn’t have an answer to that, or at least Lightning didn’t hear it as he pulled the carriage over hill and dale beneath the light of the moon until – falling in with a line of rather more orthodox-looking carriages – he bore the ladies to the very palace gets itself.

Spike leapt down from the back of the carriage – Krysta fluttered down after him – and opened the door for Miss Twilight and the others to dismount, Miss Twilight’s friends arraying themselves in a kind of formation in their dazzling gowns as Twilight, her horn glowing, unfastened Lightning from the yolk.

“You really did it,” Twilight said. “I have to admit that I had some doubts.”

“I confess a touch of pride at proving you wrong, Miss Twilight,” Lightning said, unable to quite keep the weariness out of his voice. “And not a trace of sweat, you will note.”

Twilight chuckled, covering her mouth with one star-spangled hoof. “No. Not a trace.”

“Hey, Twilight!” Applejack called out to her. “Come on, girl, don’t keep us waiting.”

Twilight smiled apologetically at Lightning, who bowed his head and gestured for her to go on ahead of him as she rushed forth – her dress flowing prettily behind her – to join her friends.

And then they began to sing.

Lightning had not been expecting that; certainly he was not expecting the other elegantly dressed courtiers and revellers to join Miss Twilight and her friends as some sort of backing chorus complete with choreography so well-coordinated that it was hard to believe that someone hadn’t been practicing, but nevertheless that was exactly what happened: after proclaiming that this was sure to be the best night ever, Miss Twilight and her friends – supported by attendant lords, spear carriers, the multitude or however else you might label them in stage directions – broke out in song, each one regaling the night air with all their hopes and dreams for the success of the evening.

Some of their aims were fair enough, Lightning could not help but wish Miss Rarity success in her romantic ambitions; others he could not help but find slightly mercenary, or at least that was what his education in New Olympia told him, that a gentlecolt did not concern himself with matters of money; on the other hoof as somepony who had spent some time not knowing where exactly his next meal was coming from he could not wholly begrudge Applejack her desire to improve the finances of her family.

He had to admit that the thing he took most from the song was that Miss Twilight had a delightful singing voice, as lovely to the ear as she was to the eyes. As baffling as the situation was he would not be at all sad to hear her sing again.

“Should we join in with a verse as well?” Krysta asked, leaning in a little to whisper in his ear.

“I think not,” Lightning replied. “My hopes are known, my misgivings I would prefer to keep to myself… and I am not at all sure that I could make my feelings fit the tune.”

“Rainbow Dash had a soft rock bit, so you know that there’s room for freestyling,” Krysta said.

“Nevertheless,” Lightning declared. “I think not.” The corner of his lip turned upwards. “Although if you have something that you’d like to get off your chest, please, don’t let me stop you.”

“Nah, I’m not one for musical numbers,” Krysta said insouciantly. “I’m more of a rap and hip hop kind of fairy.”

“Is that right?” Lightning asked as the two of them made their way towards the palace, following in the hoof-steps of the Equestrians and who had already sped on ahead.

“You know it.”

The two of them crossed the drawbridge, Lightning’s hoofs echoing on the wood while Krysta fluttered a couple of inches off the ground. They entered a vast and spacious antechamber, where a scarlet carpet had been laid over the blue-tiled floor, and where Spike was sitting dejectedly upon the floor.

Krysta sat down beside him. “What’s up, Spike?”

Spike did not reply, shifting his posture a little so that he was looking away from Krysta.

Krysta put one arm around his shoulder. “They left you behind, didn’t they?”

Spike still didn’t reply, but then he didn’t really need to.

“I told you, sometimes we get overlooked,” Krysta said. “And it’s not because they don’t care. It might be because they’re kind of selfish jerks who take advantage of us-“

“Ahem,” Lightning coughed into his hoof.

“But it’s mostly because what they’re doing is important,” Krysta said. “Or at least they think it is,” she added more quietly, to which Lightning chose not to comment.

“I just wanted us all to spend time together,” Spike muttered. “I wanted to show my friends around Canterlot.”

Krysta nodded silently, and for a moment more she sat there, her arm around Spike. “Listen, Spikey, I know that I’m not your best friend or nothing, but… I really would like to see that golden apple tree that you were telling me about on the way over here.”

Spike looked at her. “Really?”

Krysta nodded. “And the crown jewels. And now I really want to find out what a doughnut is.”

Spike stared at her for a moment, before a slow smile spread across his face. “Okay! Where do you want to start?”

“You’re the insider,” Krysta said. “You tell me.” She got up, and held out her arm. “Lead the way, Spike.” She glanced at Lightning. “Are you going to be okay on your own?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“You’re the one who’s socially awkward.”

“I am not-“ Lightning sighed. “I will be quite alright. Have fun, be careful, and Spike?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“I am holding you personally responsible for Krysta’s wellbeing,” Lightning said, staring a hole into Spike’s skull. “Do you understand?”

“I, uh, I understand I’m feeling a little intimidated right now,” Spike burbled, a bead of sweat forming on his brow.

“Oh, don’t mind him,” Krysta said, pulling Spike away. “So, where are we going first?”

“Well, I thought,” Spike said, as he took Krysta’s hand – his arms were a little too short and stubby to take her arm – and began to lead her away. “That we could start with the crown jewels.”

“And you can just walk in and look at them?”

“I can, cause I’ve got connections,” Spike bragged.

Lightning watched them go, and shook his head for a moment before he took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and made his way further into the palace.

It did not take him long – he only had to head straight ahead – to behold Princess Celestia herself.

There was no doubt as to who she was. When he caught sight of the figure of white, her coat shining like white gold, her mane blowing as though touched by a wind that no other pony could feel, a golden crown atop her head, he knew that he beheld the Princess of the Sun and ruler of Equestria. Who else would be so tall, so far, so… so alicorn? Who else would crown themselves at court, and so richly crowned at that. Who else but a princess would stand so in a ruler’s place, standing atop the stairs just as she stood atop the pyramid of state, graciously greeting the lesser ponies who climbed said stairs for privilege of kissing her hoof.

She was all that he had imagined from the tales he had heard tell of her and more. She was fair, and fairer than the word and doubtless fairer still of wondrous virtues just as it was proclaimed.

He had arrived in her presence just in time to see what looked to his eyes – from a slight distance admittedly – a warm reunion between Twilight and herself; he noticed that Twilight’s brother, the captain of the guard, stood beside the princess upon her left, while Twilight took a place upon her right.

For lack of anything better to do, Lightning joined the line heading up the stairs to greet and pay homage to the princess. It was a line that took some time to move, and with every second that past Lightning felt the weight in his stomach increase. This was Princess Celestia, the Princess Celestia of legend; he would have felt inadequate to stand in her presence under almost any circumstances but at least he would have felt excited to come so close to one who well-merited the description ‘living legend’… but since she was also the one upon whom all hopes for the success of his expedition rested all that he could feel as he climbed the stairs with such agonising slowness was trepidation.

And then there was no one else before him in the line, and he stood directly before the princess, in the full glare of her solar radiance, her regal gaze bearing down upon him.

He bowed his head, and bent his legs, pressing his snout into the carpet. “Princess, I am honoured to be permitted into your presence.”

“Princess Celestia,” Twilight said. “This is-“

“Indeed,” Princess Celestia declared, her voice cold. “Arise, Lightning Dawn, and be welcome.” As Lightning complied with her demand the princess herself bent her head to whisper in his ear. “We shall not speak hear. I will send Shining Armour when the time comes.”

Lightning Dawn did not meet her eyes. He did not have the courage, nor the sense of his own worth. “I understand, highness.”

“I’m glad,” Princess Celestia said, in a milder tone though one that felt somewhat theatrical in consequence, as if she were speaking more for the benefit of the audience listening than for herself. “Please, enjoy the gala, Lightning Dawn.” She smiled, but it did not quite reach her eyes.

Lightning endeavoured to control his trepidation. Please tell me that I have not failed already. “I shall, princess,” he said, his voice soft and without enthusiasm. Not even Twilight attempting to smile to him encouragingly was enough to ease the feeling that he had made a terrible mistake, mistake with grave and grievous consequences.

His hooves felt even more leaden than they had done before as he made his way into the ballroom.

Perhaps it was his dejected state that made him find his way to the table where Pinkie Pie stood, looking similarly unhappy, her chin resting upon a round table set with a table cloth of reddish pink.

“I’m at the Grand Galloping Gala,” Pinkie moaned. “And it’s not what I dreamed.”

“Is something wrong, Miss Pinkie?” Lightning asked, as he made his way over to her across the ballroom floor. He frowned. “Forgive me, I should first have asked if I might join you.”

Pinkie smiled briefly, for about a second. “You don’t need to ask permission to come over here. And I’m… I’m fine, really.”

Lightning sat down on his haunches. He listened briefly to the band playing on the stage. “If I may say, you do not look altogether fine. In fact, if I might be so bold, the contrast besides the exuberance of your gown and your own unhappy countenance is, well, it rather draws the eye.”

“Whose eye?” Pinkie asked. “Besides yours?”

Lightning opened his mouth, but stopped. After all it was not as though he could not deny the fact that besides himself everybody was completely ignoring Miss Pinkie and her plight. “My eye alone, then, but nevertheless, inadequate as I may be perhaps there is something that I can do.” He paused. “I admit that I do not know what that something might be, in fact that I do not have even the slightest idea of it, but I do know that you have been kind to me, and more importantly you have been kind to Krysta. You made the cakes she loved so well and endeavoured to teach me a little of the art of it. You have been… kind, and warm and generous to me and it…and I would do something to please you in turn because… because it saddens me to see you unhappy.”

“Aww, thank you,” Pinkie said, reaching across the table to him with her forehoof. “You know, I can see why Krysta likes you.”

“You can?”

Pinkie nodded. “You’re a pretty sweet guy underneath it all, aren’t you?”

“I…” Lightning hesitated for a moment. “I have always tried to be a good pony, all my life. It’s just that since coming here… my ideas of what it might mean to be a good pony, what goodness is… they have changed somewhat, or perhaps I should say they have expanded. Thanks to Twilight I can think of coming and talking to you when you look sad as something that… something that I think a good pony would do.”

Pinkie smiled out of one corner of her mouth. “I can see why Twilight likes you too.” Her eyes widened, and she let out a gasp as she covered her mouth with one hoof. “You should probably forget I said that. So what about that weather, huh? Lot of it we’ve been having lately?”

“Miss Twilight…” Lightning murmured. He shook his head. “If you would prefer not to discuss it, Miss Pinkie, then we will not. After all it is not Miss Twilight that is troubling you, is it?”

“No,” Pinkie said. “I thought that the biggest party in Equestria would be fun, you know, and not-“

“Dull?” Lightning asked. “Stuffy? These things usually are, in my experience.”

“You’ve been to a lot of these kinds of things?”

“I am a prince,” Lightning reminder. “I am not always left with much choice in the matter. Or at least I have to put in an appearance for appearance’s sake, but as soon as is decent I generally go back to my room and hang out with Krysta. It beats…”

“Standing alone at a table looking sad?” Pinkie asked.

“I would have tried to find a more delicate way of putting it, but… yes,” Lightning admitted.

“Is that why you don’t look so happy yourself?” Pinkie said.

“No, that would be because I’m nervous,” Lightning said. “I don’t think Princess Celestia cares for me particularly.”

“That’s odd,” Pinkie said. “It’s not like she knows you or anything.”

“Nevertheless,” Lightning replied. “I fear that she likes me not. And that… that could prove unfortunate, and not just for myself.”

“Maybe,” Pinkie allowed. “But it’s not like you can do anything about it now, right?”

“I suppose not,” Lightning said. “But does that mean that I should just stop worrying about it? I am not at all sure that is possible.”

“Maybe not if you’re just sitting there,” Pinkie said. “But if you dance with me you might forget for a little while.”

“I beg your pardon?” Lightning asked.

“Come on, dance with me!” Pinkie said. “Maybe if we set an example we can get everypony here up on their hooves!”

Lightning opened his mouth to point out that the ponies here did not particularly seem interested in dancing – at least not right now, which was enough to make him wonder why he’d bothered asking Miss Rarity to teach him how to dance – but eventually decided against it. He owed these ponies nothing, after all, and if Miss Pinkie wanted to dance then… well, wouldn’t a good pony oblige her in that?

Sadly, before he could do more than get to his hooves they were both interrupted by Captain Shining Armour, who cleared his throat to announce himself.

“Captain,” Lightning said. He felt a chill lump forming in his stomach. “Is it time?”

Shining Armour nodded. “Princess Celestia will see you now. Please come with me.”

The Best Night Ever? (Part 2)

The Best Night Ever (Part Two)

Twilight had accompanied Princess Celestia into the throne room ere Celestia had sent out Twilight’s brother to fetch Lightning Dawn and bring him here, and now she stood at the base of the steps leading up to Celestia’s elevated throne and waited for her guest to arrive.

And for the first time since she had begun her tutelage with Princess Celestia, Twilight felt nervous.

She meant that quite literally: since the very first time. On that first day, when she had been dropped off at school by her parents, little filly Twilight had been shaking like a leaf, her whole body trembling, barely able to walk without collapsing in fear; but Celestia had put an end to all of that, and so quickly too.

“Twilight Sparkle, you are here to learn from me; which means that you need not be nervous or afraid. I don’t expect you to have all the answers, or even any answers at all. All I ask is that you work hard, and if you can do that then I promise to teach you anything you wish to know.”

“R-really?”

Celestia laughed, a laugh like warm sunshine melting the snow on a winter’s day, and melting Twilight’s fears besides. “Really,” she said. “If anything, I should be the one who is nervous.”

Twilight gaped a little. “Why should you be nervous, Princess Celestia?”

“Why, because you might ask me a question I cannot answer,” Celestia said, with a smile on her face and a gleam in her eye. “And what would you think of your teacher then?”

Princess Celestia had always been like that: warm, approachable, kind and caring. She had been a second mother to Twilight, and to Spike too for that matter. Although the cares of all the wide realm of Equestria were bounded in her golden crown and sat with golden weight upon her brow she had never let them make her short tempered or irritable with weariness. She always had time for Twilight, always had patience with her difficulties and always had praise for her successes. Twilight had been born with many talents, but she knew that she would not have made it as far as she had without the unfailing support and encouragement of Princess Celestia. She trusted the princess completely, and although she flattered herself that she had the princess’ trust in turn, that wasn’t so important as the faith that she, one pony amongst the multitudes, placed her faith upon Celestia’s shoulders.

And yet now, for the first time since that long ago day, Twilight felt nervous in Celestia’s presence. There was coldness in the throne room air, a chill that the unicorn guards who stood at the foot of the steps seemed to sense as well, judging by the extra care that they were taking to remain absolutely still and not attract any royal attention.

Twilight looked up at Princess Celestia, sat upon her throne as still as any of the statues that decorated the palace gardens. Her purple eyes were directed towards the door, but they did not see it; rather they were seeing much further than that, as if the princess was staring into the future of Equestria at herself and wondering at what she found there.

Her jaw was set firmer than normal, and her expression was stern, without the usual softness that could be found there.

What is it about Lightning Dawn being here that makes her this way? Twilight wondered. She had little doubt that it was connected to Lightning Dawn, after what Shining Armour had told her and after witnessing the way that Princess Celestia had dealt with him already. Did I do this? Am I the cause of Princess Celestia being like this?

Though her heart trembled a little, Twilight raised one hoof – still clad in an elegant slipper – to her mouth as she cleared her throat. “Princess Celestia?”

Princess Celestia turned her gaze – so much more baleful seeming than normal – upon Twilight, making her flinch before it. That seemed to shock Princess Celestia, or perhaps it might be better or more accurate to say it seemed to sadden her, for her expression softened at once and her voice, when she spoke, was filled with regret. “I’m sorry, Twilight, you have not given me cause to be angry with you, not now or ever before,” she smiled, briefly but Twilight was glad of it nevertheless. “Please, forgive me.”

Twilight returned the princess’ fleeting but fond smile with a longer lasting one of her own. “You don’t need my forgiveness, princess. I just wanted to ask… if there was anything that I could do. Anyway that I could help.”

Once more a smile teased at putting in an appearance upon Celestia’s face, only to fade away so quickly like a mole poking its head out of the ground to see if spring has come yet, only to retreat once more beneath the earth when it feels that winter still holds the world within its icy grip. Twilight could not help but wonder what had caused the winter, and what could be done to make it spring again.

“To see you happy helps me more than you know, Twilight,” she said. Princess Celestia sighed. “I know that you are happy with the life you are making for yourself in Ponyville, and my heart rejoices at the fact, but all the same I rejoice to see you once again.”

“It’s wonderful to see you too, princess,” Twilight said. “Although… I’m sorry we haven’t had as much of a chance to catch up as I would have liked. There’s so much that I’d like to tell you that I didn’t have room to put in my letters.”

“I, too, am sorry that our time together has been as constrained as it has been brief,” Princess Celestia said. “I would have loved to hear all your stories.”

“Maybe later?” Twilight suggested.

“Yes,” Celestia replied softly. “Perhaps later there will be time.”

“Um, Princess Celestia-“ Twilight began.

“Twilight,” Princess Celestia replied, softly but firmly too. “I would prefer that you do not ask me any questions touching upon our visitor.”

Twilight, who had been about to ask if it was alright to ask, with the intention of bringing up the historical inconsistencies between Lightning’s account and what she knew of Princess Luna’s fall, stared up at her mentor for a moment. “Princess?”

“I…” Princess Celestia hesitated for a moment. A pained look crossed her alabaster features. “I would prefer not to speak of these things.”

“I… I see,” Twilight said softly. “I’m sorry.”

“There is nothing to apologise for,” Princess Celestia replied immediately. “I know that you have questions; you would not be the bright and curious little filly that it was my privilege to teach so much for so many years if you had not thought through the implications of all that you know and wondered at the contradictions. But I cannot explain them for you. Some things I must keep to myself. Some things are too difficult to speak of.”

Twilight bowed her head. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“Of course not,” Celestia said. She was silent for a moment. “What do you think of him, young Prince Lightning Dawn?”

“He…” Twilight hesitated for a moment. “He can be a little… it’s quite obvious that he doesn’t come from Equestria,” she said. “He doesn’t think the way we do, behave the way we do, see things the way we do.”

“Do you think him dangerous?” Princess Celestia said.

“No,” Twilight said quickly. “With all due respect, princess, may I finish?”

Princess Celestia nodded in acknowledgement of the mild rebuke. “Of course. I apologise. Please, Twilight, go on.”

“Although he is a stranger to this land, and although that made him seem strange to me at first, the more I realise that, although he is the product of a different world, a different culture, his soul is the same as mine,” Twilight said. “Wherever he comes from he is still a pony, and although his manners and habits and attitudes differ his feelings do not. By which I mean that he seemed – he was – a little stiff at first, but the more time that we’ve spent together the more I think… if he had been born in Equestria he would be just like us.”

“Perhaps,” Celestia murmured. “But he was not born in Equestria.”

“No,” Twilight said. “But he is a gentlecolt nevertheless; I… I’ve started to find him… quite charming.”

Celestia’s eyebrows rose, and Twilight felt her cheeks begin to heat up just a little. She would begun to explain, or try to extricate herself from the hole that she had dug, when the doors to the throne room began to open.

Princess Celestia fixed her eyes upon those opening doors, and once more her features became as hard as marble.

The doors into the throne room were large and imposing, and made all the more seeming so by what Lightning knew waited on the other side of them.

The great doors swung open at the approach of Captain Armour, and Lightning saw no sign of visible magic to swing them open; that was not exactly knew to him: the doors of his father’s throne room were enchanted to hide the magic, so that they seemed to open of their own will and volition, as a way of putting those who passed the doors in awe.

Sunset mocked the notion, but it worked on Lightning every single time, not so much – at least, not entirely – because of the awe-inspiring nature of the magic itself but because the majesty of him who waited behind those doors demanded awe. And so it was here as well: he was about to pass into the presence of Princess Celestia, and not just the presence but into the very heart of her royal state and stand before her seat of majesty. How could he not be in awe? How could he not tremble a little in the knees? Who would be so base, so dull, so heedless of who and what Princess Celestia was and all that she meant to the world and to Lightning’s lord father and not feel a tingling of the spine, feel the hairs of his mane crackle with nervousness, feel a kind of terror crawling in his gut as Lightning Dawn did now?

And that was before he came to his purpose in coming before her. He was not merely walking into the presence of Princess Celestia, but he was doing so with all his hopes for the success of his mission and – perhaps – the salvation of his people riding upon his success in treating with this great and noble sovereign. And she did not appear to like him very much.

I can only hope that her sense of justice overrides her personal distaste for me, however I have incurred it.

If the tales are true – and how can the tales not be true – then how can it be otherwise?

The doors opened fully, and Shining Armour led the way into the throne room. Lightning Dawn followed in his hoofs-steps, moving at a slow and careful pace befitting the stateliness of the occasion and the care which he would need to take to achieve all that he would out of this audience.

The throne room was as empty as ever a throne room was; rarely had Lightning come before his father in his seat of state to find the chamber so bereft of life. Of course, the King of Kings did not conduct all of his business in the gaze of all the court, his nobles and his courtiers and his chiefest knights, his councillors or the ambassadors of all the many allies of the light; nor for that matter did he carry out all his more private business in a more private setting; sometimes he wished, as it seemed Princess Celestia did now, to impress upon someone the majesty of his exalted place while at the same time having private conference with them. Yet in New Olympia a private conference was never truly private: the knights of the Celestial Cohort, the elite of the Star Legion, stood ever vigilant, hedging the throne about with sharp spears and stout hearts whenever the sovereign sat upon it, lining the porphyr columns like so many graven statues that any supplicant must pass between on their approach. Yet here, in Equestria, upon this night Lightning found that the throne room was truly bare; besides Shining Armour and himself only a pair of guards and Miss Twilight Sparkle peopled it.

And Princess Celestia herself, sitting atop her throne which itself sat at the top of a raised platform reachable only by a flight of steps, looming over all, casting a shadow across the room. Her face was stern, her eyes seemed to glare at Lightning as he approached, and under her fierce gaze he felt a fear more terrible than he had felt on any battlefield.

He did not meet her eyes; he might be a prince, but Princess Celestia was of a different order by far, not merely an anointed sovereign but something close to the divine. She had seen old Olympia in the flower of its pomp and greatness; alone of any living creature in Equestria she had seen and heard and spoken with His Majesty, the King of Kings, even before he ascended to that lofty rank; she was… it was not meet that he should meet her eyes or seek to match his stare against hers. He looked away, and as he looked Lightning could not help but spy upon the wall a stained glass window set between the towering columns, a window upon which was represented Miss Twilight Sparkle and her companions, and what Lightning guessed – from what Miss Twilight had told him – to be the defeat of Nightmare Moon.

Lightning's eyes found Miss Twilight; it was clear that this monument to her triumph did not elate her, nor in any way fill her with pride in her accomplishment; rather she seemed embarrassed that he had seen that, or at least that was how he took the awkward smile that she gave him as he drew near.

He did not return the smile at first; not out of any desire to appear discourteous but simply because he found neither his mood nor the occasion meet for smiles; and yet the sight of her lifted his mood somewhat; even nervous and awkward and embarrassed as she looked now Miss Twilight filled his heart, with courage and with more besides.

She really was quite lovely, in soul and body both alike.

Shining Armour stopped, and Lightning following stopped also. Shining Armour bowed, and Lightning Dawn bowed too, pressing his snout against the soft carpet and waiting.

"Guards," Princess Celestia declared. "Please give us leave. I must have some private conference with my visitor and my student. Shining Armour, will you guard the door and see that we are not disturbed?"

"Of course, princess," Shining Armour said, and from his supplicatory position on the ground Lightning was treated to the sight of Shining Armour's hooves as he walked past him, accompanied by his guards, and departed from the chamber.

The doors swung shut with a final-sounding thump.

Silence reigned within the throne room as much as did Celestia herself. Lightning waited, feeling every thread of carpet brushing against his face.

"Rise, Prince Lightning Dawn," Princess Celestia said; her tone was soft and even and betrayed nothing.

Lightning straightened up, and raised his head, but still he did not look upon her face, still less meet her eye.

"You may look upon me."

"I fear, highness, I would be blinded by your radiance."

Princess Celestia made a sound that seemed to lie somewhere between sigh and snort. "Please, let us have none of that. Look on me, Lightning Dawn, Prince of New Olympia."

Lightning did look on her, albeit slowly and with trepidation quickening the beating of his heart as to what he might see in her face when he did look on her; but to his surprise he found that her expression had softened towards him, if only a little, as though she had been touched to pity by his reverence for her.

"How fares the noble Jupiter?" Princess Celestia asked. "I was… surprised to hear that he yet lived."

"He lives, and lives well, Princess," Lightning replied. "He is a prince of power, and lord of a fell people; long is his reach, great is his wealth, and many are his triumphs. The rich treasures with which he wooed you long ago would seem mere baubles and trinkets to him now, and the great feats of which – so he has told me – he boasted to you then seem as but children's squabbles in the yard compared to the victories that he has won since then." He paused a moment. "And yet, if he had known ere I set out that I would have the honour of speaking with you I am sure that he would have bid me tell you that his affections towards you are not changed; many are the stories he has told that prove the truth of it."

"I see," Princess Celestia said, her tone recovering a little of its initial chilliness. "And Saturn, too, still lives."

"I fear he does, highness, though I have not set eyes upon him," Lightning said. Saturn, like Lord Jupiter, rarely ventured forth upon the battlefield, rarely stirred from the heart of his power save only to triumph over his foes once all was lost. For once, that was not a mark of his depravity, but a sign of his wisdom as a great lord, all of whom did as he did; else why did Jupiter send forth his sons and daughters to bear his banner in his name, and why did Princess Celestia entrust her faithful student with the defeat of Nightmare Moon?

Princess Celestia nodded. "You are the son of Jupiter, is that correct?"

"Adopted son, highness, aye."

Princess Celestia shook her head. "Say only that you are his son, and let it not be qualified; for well do I know how it is possible to love one who is not of your blood as dear as if she were." It was her turn to pause awhile as she gazed into Lightning's eyes; in spite of his formal attire he felt naked before her gaze – and not in the trivial sense of not wearing any clothes either. It was not that she could see his marbled coat or battle scars that troubled him, rather it was the fact that she could – or at least he felt she could – see into his soul, that was the nakedness he felt and did not like. He would have torn his gaze away from her if he could, but the very force of her gaze held him in place and left him quite incapable of such a thing. "You did not expect to find us here? You did not know Equestria awaited you?"

"No, princess," Lightning said. "As I told Miss Twilight herself."

"You took a leap into the dark?" Princess Celestia asked. "With no idea what waited for you at road's end?"

"I would – I have – run risks more perilous for my father and my… and a good cause," Lightning said. "And, with great respect and al due reverence, I would thank your highness not to call me a liar."

"Forgive me," Princess Celestia said. "It was never my intent to impugn your honour in my astonishment. Tell me, then, if not for Equestria why have you come?"

"As I-"

"I do not doubt that you have told Twilight all, and told her honest truth," Princess Celestia said. "But I would hear it from your lips, unto my ears."

"As you wish, Princess Celestia: I came for a Prism Stone, an artefact-"

"Of rare magical power," Princess Celestia said. "One of seven stones, fashioned long ago and left behind by… who can say? Legend says that when all seven stones are brought together great power will be the reward for him who wields them."

"You know of what I speak?"

"And what you seek," Princess Celestia said. "One such stone I have in my possession-" Twilight gasped in surprise, which brought a fond but fleeting smile to Celestia's face. "The yellow stone, which some call Sun-at-Noon."

"A more fitting of the seven you could not possess," Lightning murmured. "I am sure you know, highness, what my next request must be."

"You would have me give the stone to you," Princess Celestia replied. "And to what end? What would you do with it once it was given to you?"

"I would send it home to my father, to be combined with the two stones he already has possession of; and soon, if fate is kind, he shall have all seven stones and with them power to guard the realm and all who shelter 'neath his power against all enemies."

"Send it home?" Celestia repeated. "You would not take it there?"

Now they were come to it. Lightning had not been certain, when he entered the throne room; he had not been certain when Princess Celestia bid him rise; but now, he looked away from Princess Celestia for a moment and his eyes found Twilight, and in that moment he found that, without him ever really becoming aware of it, his choice was made.

"No," he said. "No, I would send it back to New Olympia but I would not go with it. I… with your highness' leave I and my sister would remain here, in Equestria."

He did not know if he had taken Princess Celestia by surprise – if he had she hid the fact very well – but he had certainly surprised Twilight because she gaped in astonishment. "You… you never said anything about that to me!"

"For which I cry your pardon, Miss Twilight," Lightning said. "I can only plead in mitigation that I did not know myself until a moment ago; when I stood outside the royal doors I had not yet made up my mind."

Twilight chuckled. "You… you really mean it?" she asked. "You really want to stay?"

Lightning ventured upon a smile. "I would not lie before a princess… or a most generous and gentle lady either, for that matter."

"To what end?" Princess Celestia asked. "To prepare the way for the return of your people to Equestria, as you desire?"

"I would not know where to begin in such an endeavour, princess," Lightning replied. "As I have told you, I came seeking the Prism Stone, not Equestria; I arrived here by following the magical resonance of the stone, once it is sent to New Olympia such means of travel will be impossible. I am convinced that my father's dream will one day be fulfilled and the two of you will reunited; but I am not the stallion to make the happen, nor know I how the ambition shall be realised. I do not ask your leave to stay upon my father's will, or my people's aims, indeed in staying I think that I shall forfeit any right to call him my father or them my people… I ask only that I may live here, in Equestria."

"As a prince?"

"As a pony," Lightning said. "As others are."

"You would renounce your title, and all princely privilege?" Princess Celestia asked. "Why?"

Lightning hesitated a moment while he collected his thoughts. "Princess… I have a sister, Krysta, a fae I met upon the road when neither of us had home to return to or kin to shelter us. Many years ago I promised us that I would find us a home where we could be happy, safe and comfortable all. Being here has reminded me that… at some point along the way I forgot that promise, forgot Krysta, shunted her aside in favour of other concerns… my concerns. Yet being here has also reminded me that there was a time when she was the most important thing in my life. And here, in Equestria… I think that here is a world where I could keep my promise, if you will allow me to. Because what is a crown or a title or a pampered existence when set against the sister whom I love?"

Princess Celestia stared down at him from atop her lofty seat, and once again Lightning had the sensation of being weighed in the balance. But then she smiled at him, truly and genuinely, and when she spoke again her voice had a warmth in it he had not heard before. "Congratulations, Lightning Dawn."

Lightning frowned. "Congratulation, highness?"

"You have learned a lesson that many of my little ponies could stand to learn," Princess Celestia declared. "And you have passed the test." Her horn flared with a golden light, and out of the shadows behind the throne she levitated a blue box, which she opened to reveal, tucked within, a stone about the size of a duck's egg, of a brilliant yellow, that burned like the sun at noon upon a cloudless day.

Lightning's eyes widened. His words came in whispered tones of reverent awe. "The Prism Stone."

"Take it," Celestia said, levitating it out of the box and into the breast pocket of his white suit. "Send it home to your people, with your farewell."

Lightning closed his eyes and bowed his head. "On behalf of my… on behalf of noble Jupiter, King of Kings, and all of New Olympia and its allies, I thank you for this gift," he said. "On behalf of my sister and myself, I give you thanks for granting us your leave to make a home here."

The smile remained upon Celestia's face. "Welcome to Equestria, Lightning Dawn."

Princess Celestia watched as Twilight and Lightning departed from the throne room. They seemed quite happy now, in stark contrast to how nervous they had both been when the meeting began. She couldn’t quite hear what they were talking about, but if she had to guess she would surmise that they were discussing Lightning’s surprise announcement.

A surprise, to be sure, but a welcome one. It would have been less welcome if he had possessed some means of sending a signal to his friends beyond the stars, but he said – and she believed him – that he did not. She believed him when he said that once the Prism Stone was safely off this world there would be no way to find it again.

So you see, it had cost her nothing to give up what had been, to her, a worthless trinket of no value. Yes, the stones had great power, but that power paled before the power of the Elements of Harmony that had been unlocked by Twilight and her friends. Equestria had all the magical protection it required. Princess Celestia had no need of ancient baubles to augment the defence that friendship and harmony provided.

Rather, she had need to make it as difficult as she could for any more envoys of Jupiter – or Saturn, for that matter – to make their way to her land and trouble the peace of her domain. She could not guarantee that they would all be so obliging as this prince of New Olympia had been.

So fortunate, we have been. More fortunate, perhaps, than I deserve. When she had gotten Twilight’s letter she hadn’t known what to think; fear – fear for Equestria, fear for Twilight, fear for herself – had nearly overwhelmed her. Even Shining Armour’s report had not entirely calmed her nerves, especially when her captain brought back news that this ambassador was a warrior and a taker of lives. But now that she had met the stallion… now she felt more at ease. He might be a warrior, but he was no bloodthirsty barbarian at the least; Twilight was right, he conducted himself with the manners of a gentlecolt, he spoke courteously and, in the end, from the heart. When he had explained himself and his reasons for wishing to remain here with them Celestia had found that she could begin to understand why Twilight liked him.

Although she could not deny that the fact that Twilight liked him was the major source of her continued misgivings as Twilight and Lightning left the throne room and Celestia’s presence.

Celestia let out a sigh that she hadn’t even known she had been holding back as the doors swung shut.

Stay safe, Twilight; keep your head about you.

“You should have told her the truth,” Luna said, appearing suddenly at Celestia’s side.

Celestia gazed at her younger sister out of the corner of one eye. The Princess of the Moon had almost completely recovered her strength now; from having been barely larger than Twilight upon her return she was now only a head shorter than Celestia herself. She would probably never match her elder sister for height, but at least she was no longer dwarfed by Cadance – speaking of whom, it was a pity that that business in Fillydelphia had kept her away from the gala, it would have been nice to know what she thought of Lightning Dawn; not to mention she and Twilight would probably have been overjoyed to be able to catch up with one another.

“Sister,” Celestia said softly, but with a trace of amusement in her voice. “I think that you must be trying to scare me when you suddenly teleport in like that.”

Luna was in no mood for jokes. “You should have told her the truth,” she repeated, her voice solemn.

Celestia pursed her lips together for a moment. “I had no need to,” she said. “Everything has worked out well without the need for such revelations.”

“You hope.”

“I hope with cause,” Celestia said. “We cannot be found once the Prism Stone is away.”

“That the young stallion knows of,” Luna pointed out.

Celestia was silent for a moment. “Yes,” she admitted. “There is always the possibility of the unexpected. But that was always a possibility. For a while it seemed that the discovery of Equestria was becoming more likely; now that fear recedes.”

“All the same,” Luna muttered. “You should have told her.”

“Why?” Celestia asked. “To what purpose?”

“Is not honesty a virtue in and of itself?” Luna replied. She paused. “Why did you not tell all to her? Twilight is no fool, she is wise enough and learned enough and hath been taught well enough by you that she may spot the holes in the tale Prince Lightning Dawn hath had from great and mighty Jupiter. She made to ask you of these things, but you turned her aside.”

“I told her no lie,” Celestia said. “It is painful to speak of the truth, and I am loath to do so.”

“Then it was pain that stilled your tongue?”

“No,” Celestia confessed. “It was fear that stuck my words within my throat.”

“What doth Celestia fear?”

“What fear I not?” Celestia responded. “When all the cares of state and the futures of my little ponies bear down like mighty boulders on my shoulders how should I not fear? If I were not oppressed by fears then I would be a careless princess indeed, unworthy of the crown or throne or all the love in which I am rich beyond measure. But, in this case… I fear to lose her.”

“In this, at least, your fear is groundless,” Luna said. “Twilight is loyal, and loves thee well.”

“You loved me once,” Celestia said.

Luna flinched as if she had had a bucket of water thrown in her face. “I love thee presently, sister.”

Celestia closed her eyes. “Forgive me,” she said. “I meant-“

“I take thy meaning, and very clearly too,” Luna whispered. “But Twilight is not Luna; she hath not Luna’s faults.” She was silent a moment. “That young stallion is not Saturn either, if that is thine other fear.”

Celestia smiled sadly. “One thousand years gone and you still know me so well. I should be embarrassed by how little I have changed.”

“Why change what has served thee and Equestria so well?” Luna asked. “Take heart: he hath not the cunning to turn her from thee, and she is too noble in the spirit to be so turned. It may be that ten thousand awful fates hedge all around us, many perils and ills and evils we should beware, but put those two small cares at least aside. They are not phantoms plausible enough to be troubled by.”

“I would dearly like to believe that,” Celestia said. “So you think I did the right thing, in allowing him to stay?”

“If you had not you would not be Celestia,” Luna said.

Celestia chuckled at that. “He seems… a little lost, don’t you think?”

“Twilight will help him find his way.”

“Indeed,” Celestia said. “And what will she find along the way?”

Luna was prevented from answering – whether or not she actually had an answer, which Celestia did not know – by the sounds of great calamity occurring outside, crashes and thumps and screams of startled panic.

“What in the world?” Luna cried. “What could be happening out there?”

Celestia covered her mouth with one hoof as she laughed. “Oh, that? I expect that’s the reason I invited Twilight’s friends to the gala in the first place.”

Luna’s eyes narrowed. “You invited Twilight’s friends to start a riot?”

“I confess I wasn’t expecting them to be quite that loud,” Celestia said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to go and see what the best night ever looks like.”

The Best Night Ever (Part 3)

The Best Night Ever, Part 3

Lightning found Spike and Krysta under the golden apple tree, which stood some way off in a very isolated corner of the garden, as if Princess Celestia – having planted the magnificent tree - wished to keep it hidden and all to herself, as though even the eyes of visitors might disturb it, corrupt it, taint its precious beauty and render it something stale and unworthy of a royal garden.

Perhaps she really thought that way. There were many treasures in the possession of His Majesty that were treated thus, locked away in the deepest vaults of Lux Aeterna lest prying eyes steal away the beauty that only being unseen, unknown, reserved for the royal eyes – and those of certain trusted favourites, for whom to be allowed to look upon these precious rarities was as great an honour as any title or gilded laurel that might adorn their brow – preserved. True, there were no living treasures in the treasuries of the King of Kings, but then the King did not have such a wondrous tree as this.

Lightning had envisaged a tree with golden apples; and golden apples there were, to be sure, golden apples large and bright and gleaming like little suns against the darkness of the night; golden apples of the sun weighing heavy upon the boughs of the great tree that spread its eaves about in all directions. But it was not merely the apples that were golden, but the tree itself. This was no tree of common wood, or any wood at all that Lightning had ever seen before; surely this tree of purest gold had been fashioned by some god and gifted to Celestia in recognition of her beauty and her grace, for it was a godly gift and if it were not so he could not conceive how it had come to be here. He had never seen such a thing before, not in all of his and Krysta’s travels: a tree of gold, glimmering, no, shining. Shining like the sun, so like the sun that it gave day in this little patch of garden even in the night as now engulfed them, as though it were no broad bough-spreading tree but a lamp for all to shelter the glow of it. Under its eaves could a host of ponies sheltered, and never felt the absence of the sun because this tree would bring them light all day and all night for all the days and nights to come.

Not too far off he could spy a sister tree, a little smaller than this tree of gold; the younger sister was of silver, and shone like moonlight as the silver apples of the light-in-darkness gave off a pale ethereal glow.

It was not so beautiful as the larger and the solar tree, but it was not without its own more lunar beauty. They put Lightning in mind of them… what was he saying, what an idiot was he, had he forgotten where he stood? This was Equestria! Surely these were the Two Trees, the origins of light throughout the galaxy.

If they were not then they must surely be offshoots of the same. And even if they were only descendants then they were beautiful nonetheless.

And it would mean that Miss Twilight had seen the light of the Two Trees, or something like it. Small wonder that she was such a rare, beguiling creature. Small wonder that she was… so much better than he was.

Lightning could have stood – or even sat down upon his haunches – and looked upon these trees all night, and in truth he might have forgot his purpose here and done just that if he hadn’t spotted Krysta fluttering upwards towards the lowest hanging branches of the golden tree upon her gossamer wings and reached out with one tiny hand towards one of the golden apples.

“Krysta!” Lightning snapped.

Krysta stopped, hovering in mid-air as she turned towards him. “Hey, Lightning! What’s up, you sound kind of mad?”

“You can’t just steal and eat one of the golden apples!” Lightning hissed.

Krysta looked at the apple she had been about to take. “Why not?”

“Because… come down from there!” Lightning said, pointing down at the ground with one hoof before he began to stride forwards toward the tree.

Krysta rolled her eyes. “Such a killjoy,” she said, but she did as she was told and flew down as swiftly as she had fluttered up, landing delicately on the grass in front of him. She frowned. “What happened? Did it not go so good?”

“Actually it went very well, in the end,” Lightning said. “I got what we came for.”

Krysta’s eyes, already very large, bulged out a little more. “You got it? The stone?”

“Here in my pocket,” Lightning said.

“It was that easy? You just asked for it and what? Celestia just forked it over?”

“Princess Celestia,” Lightning said pointedly. “Entrusted it to me so that I could send it back to His Majesty. She has no need of it, and Lord Jupiter’s need is great.”

“I guess we don’t need a magic stone while we have Twilight and her friends with the Elements of Harmony,” Spike said proudly.

Lightning’s lips turned upwards at the corners. “The princess’ words exactly, Master Spike. And now I must ask you both to come with me. Or rather, Krysta you should come with me and, Master Spike, I require your assistance to be my guide.”

“Go with you?” Spike said sceptically. “Go where? And why?”

“Because Miss Twilight and her friends have had to flee from the palace one step ahead of pursuit,” Lightning said. He hadn’t actually seen any pursuit, but he took it as fact that there would be one since, if they were not pursued, why had Miss Twilight and her companions felt the need to leave in such a great hurry?

“Pursuit?” Spike exclaimed.

Krysta clasped her hands together. “I knew this place had been good for you, you’re even cracking jokes now. They’re not great jokes but still, little filly steps.”

Lightning looked down at her, his expression sober and earnest.

“By the light you’re not even kidding, are you?” Krysta said.

“What in this world or any world that lies amongst the stars would make you think that I would joke about such a thing as this at such a time as this?” Lightning asked.

“What happened?” Spike demanded.

“I… am not really sure, nor am I sure it would be my story tell if I were,” Lightning said. “Suffice it to say that the gala is in ruins, the palace… is not in ruins, thankfully, but could do with some cleaning up, the young pony prince is marvellous distempered and distress and anger rule the court this night; I promised Miss Twilight before she was forced to retreat from here that I would find you, Master Spike, and bring you to a certain doughnut shop of which I understand you are familiar.”

“You mean Pony Joe’s?” Spike asked. “Yeah, I know that place.”

“Then climb on, both of you,” Lightning said. “You may direct me along the way.”

Spike and Krysta both scrambled up onto his back, Spike at the front and Krysta behind. Lightning could feel the two of them fidgeting for position atop him; it was not the most comfortable sensation in the world but he forgave it on twin grounds of necessity and of their youth, plus the fact that it wasn’t going to last forever. It was that last fact, in particular, that prompted him to ignore the fact that he could feel Spike’s claws in his mane, digging into the dark brown hair; it wasn’t something Lightning would have borne ordinarily, any more than he would have tolerated having the reins cracked to urge him on during their journey to the palace, he was… he had been… it wasn’t really appropriate for him to take that line or tone any more, was it? He had just made his choice. Well, to an extent; he could still take it back so long as Krysta… no, no, he had no desire to take it back. He had made his choice, he had, as the saying went, plighted his troth. He had said that he would stay in Equestria, for Krysta’s sake and for his own happiness, and he was a stallion of his word. Just because he hadn’t told Krysta yet, it hardly seemed the time but it wasn’t because he was still considering.

And since he had renounced New Olympia then he had, by default, renounced his title and his princely privilege, and could hardly stand upon the dignity of a prince of a land he had chosen to abandon.

That still didn’t mean that he wanted to have Spike’s claws in his mane – he had too much dignity still to desire that, and pride besides – but he could no longer say it was unprincely to have it so. At most he could say that it was becoming of a stallion with self-respect.

But he did not even say that, because he had promised Miss Twilight that he would bring the young dragon safely to the doughnut shop, whatever a doughnut might be, and he would not set his pride above his promise to the lady. And so he tolerated Spike’s grabbing claws pulling at his mane, and the way he was unable to sit straight and still on Lightning’s back – Krysta, who had more practice, was much better at not disturbing him too much – as they made their way out of the palace by a discreet way that Spike knew of, avoiding the outraged notables and their complaints.

They left the palace and passed into the city itself. The night air was cool, and although – having left the palace – they were all a little overdressed, Lightning and Spike in their tuxedos and Krysta in her party dress, nopony remarked upon them or called them ridiculous as Lightning followed Spike’s directions through the well-lit and prosperous streets. Perhaps it was common enough for folk to leave the gala early that it was not worth remarking upon; or perhaps all ponies here in Equestria were so good-natured that they were not the sorts to remark unkindly upon anypony being overdressed.

The streets through which Spike guided Lightning – having first removed Lightning’s top hat and handed it to Krysta because it was hard enough for the little dragon to see over the top of Lightning’s head, let alone his hat – were home to a bustling night life: ponies queued up to get into buildings illuminated with many dazzling colours, while burly minotaurs guarded the doors; other ponies passed in and out of cafes and ice cream shops; conjurers performed tricks on the street corners; vendors hawked deep-fried carrots and toffee apples from wooden carts.

Krysta began to salivate audibly at the latter, but Spike said, “Save it for Pony Joe’s. Trust me, it’ll totally be worth it.”

“I don’t know, Spike,” Krysta said. “I don’t know what a doughnut is but I know a toffee apples tastes good.”

“This isn’t just a doughnut shop, it’s my favourite doughnut shop,” Spike explained. “Twilight and I used to hang out there all the time. There were times when she’d go there to pull an all-nighter and just sit at one of the tables chewing doughnuts and drinking coffee all night until she got her essay done or learnt that spell.”

“And she let you stay up all night?” Krysta asked.

“No, she made me go to bed,” Spike admitted. “But Joe told me all about it. Trust me, Krysta, this place is great.”

“Sure it is,” Krysta said. “But what is a doughnut, anyway?”

“I must confess I’ve been wondering the same thing,” Lightning murmured.

“I don’t want to spoil the surprise, you’ll find out when we get there,” Spike said. “There it is! Just up ahead.”

He directed them to a little bijou eatery with round wooden tables sat upon the black-and-white tiled floor, while most of the walls were taken up with windows out into the purple-tinted night of Canterlot without, while those parts of the walls that were not so taken up were covered in pictures of hollow rings of some sort of pastry dish that Lightning could only assume to be the famous doughnut. A bell tinkled above the glass double doors as Lightning pushed them open to enter, although he hardly needed an announcement for his presence because the place was completely empty save for Miss Twilight and her friends stood around a table in the corner.

They looked somewhat the worse for wear, their gowns that had so bedazzled the world earlier that evening were now torn and tattered and dishevelled, their decorations askew or broken or – in the case of the star earrings that Miss Twilight wore – both, their manes all awry, their coats scratched as though they had been scuffling. Rainbow Dash, Applejack and Miss Fluttershy were each missing a shoe; Miss Rarity was missing both of hers. None of them looked anywhere close to contentment, though they had cups of some steaming hot brown liquid and plates of those odd-looking things called doughnuts set in front of them.

Lightning tried and failed not to stare. “Miss Twilight… you appear to be… you seem somewhat…”

“You girls look terrible,” Krysta said as she slipped off Lightning’s back.

“Krysta!”

“What?”

“I was trying to be tactful,” Lightning said.

“And I was being honest,” Krysta said.

A smile crossed Twilight’s face, illuminating it despite her dishevelled state, as she chuckled. “It’s okay, Lightning. You don’t need to be tactful. We know what we look like.”

Spike dismounted. “Are you okay? Lightning said you’d been chased out.”

“Lightning might have been exaggerating just a little bit,” Twilight said.

“You are not hurt?” Lightning asked. “You have not been hurt by anypony?”

“Oh, no, of course not Prince Lightning,” Rarity said. “Only our pride has been wounded, not ourselves. Although a wound to the pride is quite, quite terrible enough, of course,” she added, pressing one hoof to her brow, but she smiled as she did so to show that she spoke at least partly in jest.

“Thank you for bringing Spike down here,” Twilight said.

Lightning bowed his head. “A pleasure to be of service, Miss Twilight.” He had to confess he was glad that the already miserable look upon the face of Rainbow Dash prevented her from seeing any more displeased by his presence or his manner, both of which seemed to offend her in some way.

“And Krysta,” Twilight said. “What do you think of the news?”

“That Lightning got the stone?” Krysta said. “It’s cool, I guess. I suppose it’s what we came here for.”

“It is,” Twilight said. “But I actually meant the other news.”

“Other news?”

Twilight looked at Lightning. “You didn’t tell her?”

“It hardly seemed the right time.”

“Tell me what?” Krysta asked.

Lightning took a step away from her, so that he did not have to look down at her in quite the same was as he would have if they were closer. “Krysta,” he said softly. “I… I gave some thought to what you said. To much of what you have said since we arrived, and of what has happened here.

“When we met I promised that I could take care of you, and that together we would find a place where we could both belong. I have not kept that promise. I found a place where I could belong and then turned a blind eye to the fact that you did not. I didn’t see – because I didn’t want to see – that you weren’t happy in New Olympia and that is why… that is why I asked Princess Celestia if we might stay here in Equestria. And she has granted my request.”

Krysta stared at him, mutely, her eyes growing so wide they threatened to engulf her face. “You mean… we’re going to stay here?”

Lightning nodded. “We will send the Prism Stone back through the portal when it reopens but we will not go through it.”

“We’re going to live here now?”

“Is that not what I said?” Lightning replied, worried in case he had not been clear enough.

“This… this is going to be our home?”

“Yes,” Lightning said. “The place for both of us I promised long enough. I don’t know what I shall do yet but… I shall find a way to make a place for us here.”

Krysta fell silent a moment, staring at him. Her eyes were wide but other than that her face was unreadable.

And then a smile so broad it spread from cheek to cheek split her face as she launched herself across the distance between them to wrap her arms around his neck.

“You did it! I asked you to do it and you did! You actually did it!” she cried. “THANK YOU!” She pressed her face against his chest, her eyes closed. “Best big brother ever.”

“I don’t know about that,” Twilight said softly. “But he is pretty cool, I suppose.”

“Yeah,” Krysta said, squeezing him a little tighter. “Pretty cool.” She opened her eyes and looked up at him. “So… what made you do it?”

“You asked me to,” Lightning said.

“Yeah,” Krysta admitted. “But I didn’t think you’d actually do it… just for me.”

Lightning put one hoof around her. “And that… that’s why I had to do it, in the end. Because you didn’t think I would any more, and that… I should never have let things get that far. It’s going to be you and me from now on, just the way it used to be.”

Krysta laughed. “Well… maybe it doesn’t have to be exactly like it used to be.”

“You mean no one chasing us because we stole from them?”

“That, sure,” Krysta said. “But what I actually meant was that, so long as you remember I exist from now on, doesn’t mean that you can’t have anyone else in your life.”

“Is somebody going to tell me what I missed?” Spike asked. “Why do you all look like that, and why did you leave the gala to come here? What happened to your best night ever?”

Miss Twilight and her friends looked at one another. “It’s a long story, Spike. Why don’t you order something first. Oh, and you two have to try something too? What would you like?”

“We don’t even know what it is they serve here,” Lightning admitted, as he released Krysta from his embrace and she began to let go of his neck.

“Right, of course,” Twilight said. “Why don’t I pick for you? I know this place pretty well.”

That was Lightning Dawn’s introduction to the doughnut, and quite honestly…he was not that impressed. It was soft, and as the name suggested – and he probably should have been able to work out for himself – doughy in texture, but there was nothing particularly appetising about it, nothing to explain why the girls seemed so enamoured of the things. Even the covering on top, which seemed to be the main appeal, did little for him or his tastes. That, combined with the fact that Lightning strongly suspected that they were not very good for him, meant that he partook but very little of them, and concentrated more on the hot chocolate that Miss Twilight had also generously obtained on his behalf.

Krysta, on the other hoof, seemed to gobble the things down like nobody’s business. She always had possessed more of a sweet tooth than him.

Fortunately, neither Miss Twilight nor any of her friends remarked upon the fact that Lightning was being very sparing with what he nibbled on, because they were all quite preoccupied pouring out the tale of their woes for Spike, Krysta and Lightning Dawn himself. As he ate – or rather did not eat – they told of the various disasters, misunderstandings, ill-fortunes and just plain hostility from which they had suffered on this night which they had so looked forward to. In private – the ultimate privacy of his own head – Lightning admitted to himself that he was more sympathetic to some of the girls than others; Applejack really should have known better, while he had already conveyed to Miss Pinkie how sorry he was that what she had taken to be an event full of joy and laughter should instead turn out to be as stuffy and as dull as any court function Lightning had ever attended in his life.

But perhaps his greatest regrets were reserved for Miss Twilight – who might have actually gotten the opportunity to spend some time with Princess Celestia if it were not for his heedless intrusion into her life and the events of his gathering – and Miss Rarity; a prince should behave better by far. Lightning had thought that this Prince Blueblood had the look of a feckless, idle sort the moment that he set eyes upon the other stallion, but even a loafing lounge lizard should have the courtesy and decency to behave oneself in the presence of a lady. Lightning’s brother, Crystal Refraction, though he was in many respects quite a useless lump of a stallion, who did nought to serve his father or his people but simply lazed about the palace living in the lap of luxury, would never have treated a lady like Miss Rarity thus; indeed Crystal had quite the reputation in New Olympia as one who, though he had never slain a single enemy upon the battlefield, had slain the hearts of many a guileless maid, and there were times it seemed to Lightning as though there was scarce a lady at court with whom Crystal had not been associated at one time or another. And yet this Prince Blueblood could not even rise to that low level, but had fallen beneath a bar that Lightning had thought impossible not to overleap.

“I am sorry for all of your misfortunes,” Lightning said. “But especially yours, Miss Rarity. If you would like me to challenge him in your-“

“Challenge him?” Rarity exclaimed. She laughed, as though he had made a joke. “Oh, that’s very gallant of you, Prince Lightning, but quite unnecessary. That stallion is quite beneath me, and beneath my notice and attention what is more. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing that his conduct has preyed upon my mind for one second more.”

Lightning bowed his head. “As you wish, Miss Rarity; however, I must say that I am no prince now, but a pony of Equestria the same as any of you. Lightning Dawn alone it is, and shall be evermore from now on.”

“Very well, Lightning Dawn,” Rarity said. “But, though you have no more title, your princely chivalry is appreciated, even by she who has no need of it right now.”

As the girls laid out their story they seemed to recover much of their bonhomie, and the frowns that had filled every face when Lightning had entered the doughnut shop gradually made way for the smiles that were more habitual upon the faces of Miss Twilight and her friends, until by the time the tail was done – and ended, as Lightning had known it would – with them all fleeing headlong from the palace, they were laughing together at their shared misfortune and the ridicule to which they had exposed themselves. It was a little strange to see, no Olympian that Lightning knew would have laughed at their own embarrassment and shame in such a fashion, but that did not make it wrong; in fact, Lightning was able to consider the possibility that it might be an improvement upon smouldering rage and grudges born.

He still would have liked to have challenged the foppish Prince Blueblood, however. It would have made him feel rather useful.

As she concluded her account, Twilight said, “I just hope Princess Celestia isn’t upset with us for ruining the gala.”

“That was the best Grand Galloping Gala ever,” Princess Celestia declared, as though Miss Twilight had summoned her with the power of thought and concern over her reaction, striding through the door into this little eatery as though it were the most natural thing in the world for the rule of the entire country to do, and this place were the most natural place for a living legend whose reputation had spread throughout the stars to be.

Lightning took some comfort in the fact that Miss Twilight and the others looked as amazed and astonished to see the princess here as he was; it meant that he was not so odd and this was not some nuance of Equestrian culture that he was missing. It really was a surprise to see Princess Celestia here, even though she did not seem to find her own presence at all worthy of explanation.

“Pardon me, princess,” Twilight said as Princess Celestia strode regally across the shop, illuminating it by her mere presence as though she had brought the sun itself within these walls with her. “But tonight was just awful.”

“Oh, Twilight,” Princess Celestia said. “The Grand Galloping Gala is always awful.”

Lightning’s brow furrowed ever so slightly as he wondered at a sovereign holding an annual function that she held in disdain and contempt. He might find the court events thrown by the King of Kings to be a dreary bore and a slog to sit through, but he had never once doubted for a moment that His Majesty revelled in the tiresome revels held in his honour. How could he not, when they were, after all, in his honour held as tributes to his greatness and his majesty? He had to take some pleasure in them, did he not? Or did he, like Princess Celestia apparently, detest the business and only bear it because… why? Tradition? Expectation? Because the court demanded it?

It is no concern of mine any more, but the question will nag at me no doubt.

“It is?” Twilight asked, putting Lightning’s questions in a far more succinct manner.

“That’s why I was thrilled you were all attending,” Princess Celestia said. “I was hoping you could liven things up a bit.”

Lightning’s eyebrows rose at that. It seemed that the many tales of Princess Celestia that he had heard, the many legends of her virtue and grace, the stories of her that filled the dark between the stars, had all neglected to mention that she possessed a mischievous streak accompanied by a degree of deviousness in her methods. It was not something he would ever have expected to think of Princess Celestia of far-fame, but nor would he have expected the great princess to ever admit that she had invited Miss Twilight and her friends to the gala for the purpose of sabotaging it for her own amusement. It was so far removed from the image of her that he had formed from expectation, song and story that it was only the utter lack of reaction being shown by Miss Twilight that prevented him from wondering if this was an impostor impersonating Princess Celestia. But Miss Twilight, who knew the princess best, seemed to suspect nothing, leaving Lightning no choice but to conclude – or admit – that there was more to her than he had thought of or expected.

I do not begrudge her that, but… why has it been so thoroughly erased from all legends? Was she like this when she won the heart of Lord Jupiter and he won hers? It is hard to imagine such a stallion as His Majesty falling for a mare with such a free-spirited side, unless she hid it very well and he never suspected.

But why hide an entire part of herself from him whom she was to wed?

Princess Celestia continued. “And while the evening may not have gone as you planned, I hope you’ll agree that it didn’t turn out so bad for this group of friends.” She turned her gaze upon Krysta. “Or for the two new arrivals into our Equestrian community. Hello, little one, I take it that your are Krysta, sister to Lightning Dawn?”

Krysta curtsied. “Krysta Brighteyes, at your service Princess.”

“Brighteyes? It is a well-earned name,” Princess Celestia said kindly. “But please, let us have no formality here. This is a time for friendship, not flummery.”

“Then…” Krysta straightened up. “Then thank you, princess, for letting us stay. Thank you so much. You won’t regret it, I promise.”

Princess Celestia smiled down at Krysta with what seemed like more warmth than she had ever shown to Lightning Dawn. “Your brother spoke very well. He told me that he wished to make a home here where you could both be happy. How could I not be moved by such a plea? It is my earnest wish that all who live in Equestria find a path to contentment in their lives… and now that includes the two of you.”

“We will,” Krysta said. “I’m sure we will.” She grinned. “I’m really sorry, Twilight, and all of you; I’m sorry that things didn’t turn out the way you wanted but is it okay if I say that this is my personal best night ever?”

Twilight chuckled. “Go right ahead, Krysta. Nopony will blame you at all.”

“Awesome, thanks,” Krysta said, before she leapt up into the air and yelled, “BEST NIGHT EVER!” Laughter rang out across the doughnut shop as she landed softly on the ground. She looked around, although Lightning wasn’t sure what she was looking for until he saw that she had spotted a jukebox machine – Rosethorn and Lily had introduced Lightning and Krysta to the idea of them, and it seemed they were much the same in Equestria as they were anywhere else – and dashed across the tiled floor towards it.

“Hey, Mister Joe,” Krysta said. “How does this thing work?”

“You need to put a bit in,” Joe said. “But seeing as your friends with Twilight, it’s on the house.” He tossed a bit with admirable aim into the slot on the machine, making the dark box light up golden.

“Thanks!” Krysta said, as she held her fingers poised over the buttons to select one of the available songs. “Let’s see…eeny, meany…this one.” She pushed a button on the jukebox, and immediately music began to fill the shop, followed by a voice raised in song.

There’s a port, on a western bay

And it serves, five hundred ships a day,

“Hey, Lightning,” Krysta said, beaming out as her body gyrated in time to the music. “You want to come out here and dance with me?”

Lightning felt his whole body heat up at the very idea. “I, uh, I think not.”

“Aw, come on, why not?”

“Because I’m still a terrible dancer,” Lightning admitted.

“Well, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Twilight said. “Maybe a terrible partner will make you feel a little less self-conscious.”

Lightning stared at her. Out of the corners of his eyes he could just about make out a soft, knowing smile on Rarity’s face, and Krysta nodding her head eagerly. “Miss Twilight,” he said. “Are you asking me to dance?”

Twilight laughed. “Well… I suppose I am,” she said. “So… how about it?”

Lightning bowed his head. “I would be honoured, Miss Twilight.” He held out one hoof to her, and together they walked out into the open space between the tables in the centre of the doughnut shop.

Miss Twilight was a terrible dancer, her legs all askew; but Lightning was pretty terrible himself, and yet somehow when they started to dance together, attempting to move their limbs in time to the music and sometimes even managing to do so, that didn’t seem to matter. At first Lightning was aware of Krysta dragging Spike out to dance with her, of Applejack and Rainbow Dash coming out together, Rarity asking Fluttershy for the honour of her hoof, Pinkie bopping along by herself; at first Lightning was aware of all these things going on around him, while Princess Celestia watched over them all with a fond, maternal smile upon her face. But somehow, by some power, as the song went on and as they danced together Lightning found his world getting smaller and smaller until he no longer noticed anything but Twilight, dancing with him, dancing badly and yet at the same time dancing absolutely perfectly because she was dancing with him, the light reflected in her purple eyes.

Best night ever indeed.

The Circle of the Dark Between Stars

The Circle of the Dark Between Stars

Raven walked down the street.

As streets went, this one was nothing special. Just a very ordinary street in Canterlot. It was nowhere near the palace, it was not in one of the swinging parts of town that never slept. It was nowhere near the gala and, just as importantly, nowhere near the doughnut shop where Twilight and her friends had retired with Lightning Dawn after the fiasco of the party.

Raven frowned beneath the hood of her cloak. She remembered that night. She remembered tonight, and she remembered that tonight was the night when Lightning Dawn asked permission to stay in Equestria. The night when, looking back, it became clear that everything had begun to go awry.

This was the beginning of the end. The end that she had come to avert.

She had lingered in Ponyville for the last few days, watching as Twilight and Lightning grew closer to one another, as everything proceeded just as it had done the first time. Now she had watched long enough. The time had come to act.

Perhaps she could have just killed him and been done with it. Perhaps she should have killed them both and made absolutely certain that the future she dreaded, the future so filled with pain and suffering, would never come to pass. Perhaps that would have been the safest course.

But she had not always been a killer. She had not always been a warrior. She had not always taken lives as easily as breathing. There had been a time, before she gave up her destiny for the sake of power, when she had been accounted good and noble, kind and generous, warm and caring and loving and all the sweet, good things in the world; there had been a time when she had been acclaimed as a font of every virtue in Equestria admired. There had been a time when she had been… innocent.

Raven was under no illusions that she could return to that pre-lapsarian state, and live as she had done in the years gone by; that life belonged to a different mare, to a foolish girl who trusted in friendship and compassion until all her friends were dead from her folly and weakness. She was not that little filly any more. She was Raven, she was death, the fire of heaven burned within her blood. She had made her bargain long ago and she had chosen the path of war and conflict.

But she could still remember when it had been otherwise. She could still remember what it had been like to laugh and talk and hang out with friends, to have picnics on the hill, to watch the stars, to live a life without care and free from strife and worry in equal measure. And although she knew that she could not have that life back, the very fact that she had come to this place and to this time to save not only the world but that childlike way of living it… it encouraged Raven to not resort to murder with her own hooves and her own magic if she could avoid it. She had come to spare Equestria a river of blood; she would rather accomplish that goal by means more subtle than another river of blood created earlier by a different pony.

She would kill for the greater good, if she had no other choice… but she would prefer not to.

And so, rather than confronting Lightning Dawn, she had hidden away from him and from Twilight Sparkle lest a meeting with the twin authors of all her pain cause her to lose all self-control and become again the wild and savage warrior that she had become in latter years, Raven was walking down a nondescript street in downtown Canterlot.

Watching them from afar had been hard enough. She did not want to lose herself. She did not want to lose control. Not that it was easy, in Ponyville. So full of memories. So full of ghosts. She’d see Pinkie Pie and want to burst out crying, she wanted to run up to Applejack and yell at her to take her sister and run, to go far, far away from here; she wanted to kidnap Rarity and take her to Manehattan where she’d be safe. She wanted to pull Twilight Sparkle’s pretty little head off and grind Lightning Dawn’s bones to dust.

Instead, she walked down this Canterlot street, her shadow walking beside her in the moonlight, walking down the middle of the road between the rows of terraced houses with their little garden plots before them, walking until she came to the house that she was looking for.

Number 3. It had a wrought iron gate and an antique door knocker nailed to the ochre door.

Raven stopped, and stared at it. She remembered this street. She remembered this house, though it would be many years in the future before she walked down it. The conflict with the Circle of the Dark Between Stars would not begin for some time; the sleepers would not awake for a little while until after that which they should – according to their oath – have kept watch for had already begun and was too late to stop. By the time that she and her comrades and those who still foolishly called themselves her friends had clashed with the Circle their victory – if you could call it victory – was already assured. Raven remembered that they had been a rather pathetic bunch, compared to the zebra Servants of Memory; in fact they were pretty pathetic by any reasonable measure. But these pathetic ponies had in their possession some decidedly un-pathetic things. Things that she needed. Things that, if they were deployed more swiftly and by someone with a better grasp of tactics, might actually turn the tide and save unhappy Equestria before it actually became unhappy.

Raven pushed open the gate and walked briskly up the paved pathway towards the door. She ignored the antique door knocker, with its face like a dragon’s head leering at her, and simply pounded upon the door with one grey hoof.

The door splintered a little. Raven bit back a curse. This wasn’t a world for an enhanced warrior. She would have to keep that better in mind.

The door was opened by a unicorn mare, wearing a flannel tied around her head and levitating a foal in swaddling clothes – and a dummy in their mouth beside them. She glanced at the dent in the door, then turned her irate blue-eyed gaze on Raven.

“I’m very sorry about that,” Raven said. “I will, of course, pay for the damage.”

“You’re darn right you will,” the mare snapped in an accent that reminded Raven a little of Applejack. “Who are you, anyway? What do you want?”

“My name is of no importance,” Raven said softly. “I’m here for the meeting.”

The mare rolled her eyes. “Oh, I see, you’re one of those, one of his friends.” Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you coming around here before.”

“I’m new,” Raven said. She used her wing – which was more deft than her telekinesis – to extract a purse of gold from underneath her wing and threw it down at the unicorn’s feet.

She looked down at it. Then she looked back up at Raven. “That… that’s far too much for a dented door.”

“Keep it anyway,” Raven said. “Buy an expensive toy for the little one. Buy them lots of toys.” She leaned a little closer to the levitating baby. Children were such treasures. So innocent, so helpless, so in need of the protection of adults; that was why she’d… she’d made her mistakes. She’d thought that she was protecting the children. And now she was back to save them all from herself. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Yes, you would. You’d like all the toys that bits can buy.”

The foal recoiled from her, from the wrongness of Raven, as though she could sense the death and decay that clung to the mare. Raven drew back as the little filly began to cry, or tried to in spite of their pacifier. She didn’t mind being rejected, but she was sorry that she had upset the child. “I’m sorry about that,” she said. “Um, may I come in?”

“Uh, sure,” the mare said, taking a few steps back to admit Raven into the sanctity of her home. “The clubhouse-“

“Is in the basement,” Raven said smoothly. “Yes, Emerald told me already. I know the way.”

“Okay,” the mare said. “They’ve got snacks down there already, but do you want a drink or anything?”

“No,” Raven said. “No, I don’t want to be any trouble. Thank you for the offer, but I’m fine.” Success was the only nourishment that she desired.

They have snacks down there? Good grief, and I thought that they were pathetic from my memories.

The wife nodded. “Okay. Well, just holler if you change your mind.”

She left Raven to it after that, taking her child off somewhere to attend to his needs, leaving Raven to make her own way through a thoroughly ordinary middle class house. It was not at all the sort of place one would expect to find the best hope of resisting an invading interstellar empire, but then – even allowing for the fact that this was Equestria, where a bookworm, a dressmaker, a farmer, a speed freak, an animal lover and a loon would save the world more than once – these weren’t the kind of ponies one would trust to be one’s best hope against domination. They were, not to put too fine a point on it, a weak reed.

But, Raven reflected as she made her way through a house where the walls were lined with photos – wedding pictures, baby pictures, vacations, that sort of thing – they would prove strong enough for her purposes.

Raven found the basement easily – she’d been here before, after all – and trotted down the steps, with no care for how loud or quiet she was as she descended into the darkness of the cellar.

She pushed open the door, to find roughly what she was expecting to find – a basement decorated as a den for a certain kind of stallion, with classic movie posters on the walls and a pinball machine in the corner. In the centre of the room three stallions – all dressed in black cloaks embroidered with a single silver star - were sitting around a table, with a bowl of some kind of cheesy chips sitting between the three of them.

“Okay,” one of the three stallions, a pegasus with square spectacles and a beard growing around his jaw, said. “Roll to detect traps.”

“Are you playing Oubliettes and Ogres?” Raven asked incredulously.

The three ponies – one earth pony, one pegasus, one unicorn – all turned to stare at her.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Raven said. “Let me try that again: the caged whale knows nothing of the mighty deeps, yet many grey lords go sadly to the masterless mares. Yet verily the rose is within the thorn. The good mother makes bean soup for the errant boy and I could keep going but I have neither the time nor the patience. Now, are you really playing Oubliettes and Ogres?”

The three ponies continued to stare at her. “Uhhh,” the green earth pony said. “Who are you?”

Raven advanced into the den. She kicked the door shut behind her. “I’m a little more interested in who you are, Emerald Ray. You see, I was under the impression that this was a meeting of the Circle of the Dark Between Stars, not a gaming group.”

“You know who I am?” Emerald Ray asked alarmedly. “How-“

“Emerald Ray, forepony of a small construction outfit here in Canterlot,” Raven said. “Type Setting, you run a small printing house, mostly working for publishers of niche academic texts. Memory Foam, you don’t actually need a job because your father wrote a well-received travelogue and you live off the royalties. I know who you are and I know what you are and I thought I knew that there were six of you, so where are the other three?”

The three ponies looked at one another anxiously.

“Speak up,” Raven said.

Emerald Ray got to his feet. “Listen, I don’t know-“

He stopped, as a sword appeared in the air above Raven’s head, emerging blade first from a shimmering golden portal.

I see that still works. Until Raven had tried it she hadn’t been entirely sure that her connection to the great vault was still extant, let alone that she would be able to summon weapons from it as she had done when she was still a loyal soldier of the King of Kings. Thank you, Sunset Shimmer.

Raven kept her voice soft, but sharpened the edge of it a little like the blade that hovered above her. “That’s right,” she said. “You don’t know. You don’t know who I am. You don’t know what I am. You don’t know what I’m capable of. I know all about you, but you know nothing about me, so don’t think about being brave because we both know that you’re no hero. Now: where are the other three members of this society?”

Emerald Ray swallowed. “Not… not everyone comes to every meeting,” he said. “Cornflower hasn’t come since her father passed away... Gold Hunter is at his grandson’s birthday party and… and Fondant Fancy is with his wife at… pilates class.”

“…Pilates class,” Raven repeated. “Sweet Celestia this is worse than I thought. The Circle of the Dark Between Stars,” she said, raising her voice. “Founded a thousand years ago by six brave ponies, who on the day Olympia was banished took a vow binding their heirs and successors to keep an eternal watch against the return of that city or its lords. And look at you now, roleplaying or… going to pilates classes.”

“How do you know about that?” Memory Foam asked. “My father told me that was a secret.”

“And why do you care?” Emerald Ray said. “It’s just a story.”

Raven shook her head. Of course, that was the problem, wasn’t it? That had always been the problem, even in her time. It was all well and good to bind your successors to something with a vow so long as they believed the thing was real. But nopony did, not any more. Olympia was a myth to these ponies, and by the time it became clear that it was real it was already too late. The Circle had become nothing more than a social group, whose meetings were a matter of convenience not urgency, to be attended when possible and not otherwise; and not even that for the eternally absent Cornflower. In a generation or two it would probably have ceased to exist altogether.

The zebras are so much more fortunate.

Still, I have to work with what I’ve got. Just like I always have.

“You are precisely wrong,” Raven said. “Everything that your fathers told you is true. And now the hour of your watch has come. An emissary from Lord Jupiter has returned, and now the fate of Equestria rests in your hooves.” She took a moment to savour the looks of fear and confusion upon their faces. “But don’t worry,” she added. “I’m not actually asking you to get up and do anything to save your world. I know that you’re no heroes. Just leave everything to me.”

“Then… what are you doing here?” Type Setting asked. He was a grey unicorn whose dark mane was receding back away from his brow.

“Because I know the other part of this story,” Raven said. “I know that there was a seventh pony who was a part of the original circle, a great warrior named Silver Spear. When the other six ponies of the circle vowed to stand vigil, Silver Spear vowed to sleep, enchanted to lie suspended by magic, not dead and not alive, until he was awoken to do his duty and defend Equestria from Olympia once more. I know that that is a story as true as any other that you have been told. I even know where Silver Spear is sleeping. I know that the six of you each have a piece of the amulet that can break the enchantment and awaken the sleeping knight, so here’s what your going to do: you’re going to give me your pieces of the amulet, and then you’re going to tell me where I can find the other three so I can get their pieces, and then I’m going to save the world while you can carry on sitting here rolling for random monster encounters.”

“And… and if we don’t?” Emerald Ray asked.

Raven was silent for a moment. “I never wanted to be a violent pony,” she confessed. “When I was a little filly I loved to read. I wanted nothing more than to be left alone with my books. But fate… destiny had other plans for me. So I became a warrior. I fought. I bled. Along the way I lost everyone I ever cared about.” She threw back her hood, and watched the horror upon their faces as they beheld her monstrous visage. “I have passed through death and destruction on a scale you soft ponies could never imagine. I have walked upon the path of daggers until my hooves bled. I have waded through rivers of blood. I have passed through flame unburned. The fire of heaven burns within my blood.” Her horn began to flare, and the terrible flame sparked upon its spear-sharp tip. “With this flame I will light a way through darkness, and turn to ashes all who oppose me.” Daggers appeared through gilded portals, forming a halo around her head. “Including you, and your wife and child upstairs. And lest you be in any doubt; I will find the other members of this circle, the only difference is whether you’re alive to see it. Now: give me those amulet fragments, and give me those addresses.”

The Canterlot Museum of Antiquities was closed for the night. The building was quiet and still and almost sepulchral as Raven trotted through it, her hoofsteps tapping on the tiles of the floor the only sound in this hallowed-seeming place.

Of course it wouldn’t have seemed so if she was visiting in the daytime, when it would have been thronged with chattering crowds and out of control school trips, little fillies and foals having to be restrained by their teachers from climbing all over the exhibits.

Raven remembered what it had been like, trying to visit this place in normal hours; it was practically impossible to learn anything for all the hubbub!

Now it was quiet, and still. Now there was no one here but her. And yet she had no time now; no time to read the notations underneath the ancient vases, no time to examine or admire the statues, no time for anything but the dark purpose that had brought her here.

No time for anything but the salvation of the world.

And so, as she moved through the dark halls, she flitted between exhibits and displays but regarded none of them. Ancient Mareathonian urns, statues carved by pegasi from before the three tribes were united, graven images of the Shedu who had once roamed the lands of the zebras far to the south, kirin wood carvings, none of them made her pause. None of them excited her, though there was a time long, long ago when she would have stopped to geek out over each and every single one of them. In fact she had probably done exactly that, although it was hard to say for sure. It was becoming a little difficult to remember. The memories of her old life were fading away, disappearing from the recesses of her memory. It was one of the consequences of her bargain that she had not been made aware in advance. She had traded everything for power: her cutie mark, her destiny, most of her magic, she had given it all away for the power to keep her friends safe; but not only had she failed in that endeavour but she couldn’t even remember everything about her life any more. Holding on to her memories was a constant struggle; she fought to retain the important ones; important either for strategic reasons – they were memories of her past that would, she hoped, provide a guide to her future – or else for purely sentimental ones; she hoped to remember her dearest of times with her dearest of friends for longest. Those memories would motivate her the most. Those memories would drive her on, until her task was done.

Please, Celestia, if there is any mercy in you, let me remember them until… until it doesn’t matter any more.

Let me remember them until the worst thing that my memory retains has been averted.

Let me remember them until I can die in peace, my final mission a success.

With good fortune that day might come very soon. Of course she would have to wait a little while to be sure of that. She would have to observe Twilight Sparkle, and make sure that she didn’t do anything foolish, but Raven had hope that this plan, for all that it was a gamble, might actually pan out.

And what had her life been but a series of gambles? It was true that not all of them had worked out for her, particularly in latter days, but she was no longer in those latter days. She was back now, back in Equestria of old, back in the golden days of the past when everything had seemed so bright and hopeful. And in those days, things had had a way of working out for her.

She had gotten everything she needed. She had gotten the pieces of the Amulet from the members of the Circle; some of them had been glad to give them up; none of them had required actual force to persuade them, although in some cases the threat of it had been a sad necessity. She wasn’t sure if she would have actually killed any of them if it came to it. She hoped not. She’d come here hoping to do better than that, to walk back some of the choices that she had made in the future; but at the end of the day she was who she was. She was Raven now, and being back in the past had not transformed her back into the pony she was before.

And the fate of Equestria was at stake. The lives of all her… she could not call them her friends, she had lost that right, but everypony who remained precious to her nonetheless. She would do whatever she had to do to keep them safe.

She would protect them, even from themselves.

The object that she was looking for, the key to her victory, lay near the centre of the museum, surrounded by priceless relics and objects of immense antiquity. Raven moved quickly past all of them, intent upon the sarcophagus of onyx that sat in the very centre of this hall, under a skylight which admitted the moonbeams like a searchlight upon the dark tomb.

He had not always been here. Silver Spear had been laid to rest in a cavern in the mountains, a location known only to his six companions who had placed him there. But that had been a long time ago, and Canterlot had not even been a gleam in Silver Spear’s eye then. It had been some years ago when construction work on a new hotel had unearthed the crypt and the sarcophagus within. Unable to open it up, the entire great stone coffin had been brought here, to the museum, where its size and the intricate carvings on the stone made it an impressive and popular exhibit for all that nopony knew quite what it was.

Along the sides of the sarcophagus were engraved images, like hieroglyphs but – unfortunately for those scholars who had, over the years, attempted to decipher the messages – not the same language. Even Raven couldn’t read what was written here; she wasn’t even sure if the carvings of battles and death and much destruction, depicting dark gods and grave perils, was an actual language or just primitive pictograms left for those who might not speak or read the same language as Silver Spear by the time the tomb was found. She couldn’t read it, but she had learned the gist of what was carved there: a warning of the truth about Olympia, and its great lords Jupiter and Saturn; a warning of what would befall if they should ever return to Equestria.

It was against that eventuality that Silver Spear, captain of the royal guard, had been willing to suffer the long sleep like death, to wake only when the need was great and Equestria had need of him once more.

A red velvet rope surrounded the sarcophagus. Before it sat a sign, reading:

Unknown sarcophagus, c first century ANM

Although practically everything surrounding this object, first discovered in 960 during the construction of the Canterlot Grand Hotel, remains a mystery, it is nevertheless a fine example of stone carving in this period, and a tantalising hint of the burial customs of elite ponies during the early years of Princess Celestia’s reign. No sarchophagus quite like it has been discovered anywhere else.

Of course not, Raven thought as she leapt over the velvet rope. Because nopony else quite like it has been buried anywhere else.

Upon the surface of the coffin the onyx was smooth and shiny, save for words in ancient runes in the language of Olympia, a tongue ne’er spoken in Equestria now, but which she had learned – or would learn – in less happy times.

Here lies Silver Spear, the bravest of the brave,

Though in that sleep like death he dreaming lies,

When need and land doth call once more he’ll rise

The land is in need now. It doesn’t know it yet, but I have seen the results of waiting until those who have been half-blind become half-ready and believe me it does not end well for us. The land is in need, and the time has come for you to wake.

Raven fumbled with the amulet around her neck. She had combined all six of the fragments that she had bullied or wheedled out of the members of the Circle into one, a single key shaped like a six-pointed star with Celestia’s sun in its centre, symbolising their devotion to the princess and to her Equestria; of course, when Silver Spear had been laid to rest Princess Luna had been banished as the evil Nightmare Moon; they would not have included any mention of her in the symbol of loyalty.

That was something that she would have no need to explain to Silver Spear. There was no point in troubling him with such minor details.

Raven continued to fumble with the amulet. There was a time when she would have simply levitated it into the indentation on the slope of the sarcophagus lid that was clearly made for it. There was a time when had possessed the power to bend the world to her will. Now her telekinesis was as weak as that of Lightning Dawn, weaker perhaps, and for much the same reason: they had traded their birthright for something that had seemed more important at the time.

But it was very awkward using her hooves for deft work like this. Since she had not been born to it she struggled with getting used to doing things the way earth ponies did. What would have been second nature to Applejack and Pinkie Pie was tough for her.

But she did it, in the end. She got the amulet out, balancing it awkwardly upon the flat of her grey hoof, and placed it into the keyhole that had been fashioned for it long ago.

For a moment nothing happened. All was quiet within the museum as if it were in truth a mausoleum, and Silver Spear as dead as the occupant of his sarcophagus was presumed by those less well-informed to be.

Then, of its accord, without any glow of magic manipulating the process, the amulet turned in place. There was a click, and the heavy onyx lid of the coffin moved a little.

Raven smiled, and waited for it to finish moving.

It didn’t. It became clear that she was going to have to finish the rest of the job herself.

She had traded her magic for power, but that didn’t mean that she enjoyed these uses of brute strength, especially when she could still – despite her fading mind – remember when she could have done this with telekinesis much more easily. Still, needs must with Equestria and all her precious friends at stake, and so Raven stalked around the sarcophagus until she was standing beside one of its long edges, put her forehooves to the coffin lid and heaved, pushing upon the stone slab, forcing it backwards inch by inch as the grinding sound of stone upon stone grated at her ears until, with a thud and crack upon the floor, the lid tumbled to the museum floor and slipped off the elevated steps on which the coffin sat. It thumped, thumped, thumped as it dropped down the steps and hit one of the metal stands suspending the velvet rope, dragging the whole thing down with a clatter which rang out in high-pitched counterpoint to the echoing boom of the falling stone.

Boom, the dolorous sound echoed in the silent museum, until it almost sounded like a voice proclaiming Doom.

Raven paid little attention to that. Her gaze was wholly fixed downwards, staring at the sleeping occupant of the stone coffin.

Silver Spear was a unicorn, his coat as silver as his name, what Raven could see of it beneath the shining armour – the spell that kept him in a suspended state had also suspended the sheen to which his warlike raiment had been polished, as though it had been tended to this very day – which enveloped him. Silver Spear was a pony of the elder days, and his armour too was of an old-fashioned type, the kind that you could still find in the ruined Castle of the Two Sisters if you looked for it; unlike the largely ceremonial armour of today’s royal guard, this armour covered every inch of the pony who wore it, even the tail, and much of it spiked to make for a more deadly weapon. Silver Spear wore all his armour, save for his helm – complete with a scarlet crest as bright as fire and a mask that would cover his face when he donned it – which rested on his left beside his forehoof. On the other side of him rested his spear, as silver as his name, with a replica of an apple at the butt of it. Silver Spear had not been one of the greatest enemies that Raven had ever had to face, but he had been sufficiently persistent that she had learned a few things about him; the apple on his spear was a tribute to his wife, who was a very distant ancestor of the Apple Family; the unicorn blood had been bred out of the clan over long generations, but nevertheless Raven had found that fact ironic at the time.

She still found it ironic. Looking down at Silver Spear, his face so noble in repose, brought back a flood of memories that would probably pass beyond recall before too long. He had that scar across his right eye, exactly as he had when she had first met him. He had had more scars than that by the time he laid down his famous spear.

She had persuaded him to lay it down. In her time, in her future, she had convinced him that his war was over, that there was nothing to fear from the Olympians, that he should give up his enmity towards them and his ancient quest. And he had done so, because he trusted her and trusted in her honour. They had become friends, you see, after a fashion, before they had stopped being enemies. Even across the battlefield foes can learn about one another, can see things worth respecting, even worth saving. His courage had been undeniable even when she thought his cause a bad one, and he… he had been a fool.

The King of Kings had cared nothing for her honour or her word. He had put Silver Spear to death as an enemy of New Olympia. At least he had not lived long enough to see the full extent of Raven’s failure.

At least he had not lived long enough to understand how wrong Raven had been when she preached peace to him.

“Arise, arise, warrior of Equestria,” Raven whispered. “The dawn has failed, the dark is almost on us.”

For a moment longer all was still and silence. Then Silver Spear’s eyes, as golden as the sun, snapped open.

“Breath the living air again,” Raven whispered, as Silver Spear gasped for breath.

“I… I am awake?” Silver Spear gasped.

“Did you dream away the aeons?” Raven asked. “Or did they pass before you in an instant?”

Silver Spear looked at her. “I’m awake?” he repeated.

“You sound surprised.”

“I hoped… if I am awake does that mean-“

“An emissary of Lord Jupiter has found his way to us,” Raven said. “That which you feared has come to pass.”

Silver Spear continued to stare, wide-eyed. “If that is so, then… then where are the descendants of my brothers who swore to keep watch over against this day?”

“Their descendants failed, and forgot their watch and the oath their forebears made,” Raven said. “But what of that? I am here, and you are awake, is that not enough?”

Silver Spear sat up. “Who are you?”

Raven took a step back. I am your enemy. I am your friend. I tried to help you in the worst possible way. I betrayed you. I admired you. I detested you. I tried to save your life. I caused your death.

You have cause to hate me.

I need your help.

“I am a servant of Princess Celestia,” Raven declared. “My heart belongs to her, but she does not recognise the danger that she is in.”

“Does not recognise?” Silver Spear repeated, as he leapt out of his sarcophagus. His horn flared with silver aura as he levitated his spear up out of the stone. “How can this be? Has she forgotten?”

“Perhaps,” Raven said. “I confess I do not know. But she has taken this envoy of Jupiter at his word of peace and good intent and this very night has granted him leave to remain here in Equestria as a pony of this land.”

“Leave to remain, what madness is this?” Silver Spear snapped. “How long have I been sleeping?”

“One thousand years, more or less.”

“One thousand… have the princess’ wits degraded in that time?”

“Don’t talk about Princess Celestia that way,” Raven snapped. “She is kind, and if she is too kind then… at least she is a prince who understands that virtue of kindness.”

Silver Spear bowed his head. “Of course. You are right. Her gentle heart is amongst the greatest of the princess’ virtues, and the reason why she is so well-beloved as our ruler, for all that she errs sometimes too much upon the side of kindness.”

“If she did not there would be no reason for you and I to exist,” Raven said. “We do the things that she will not… the necessary things.”

“Is that so?” Silver Spear murmured. “You think we are so alike?”

“You have travelled through time to be here, after a manner of speaking,” Raven said. “You are not alone in that.”

Silver Spear snorted. “Nopony knows that you have awoken me, do they?”

“Nopony else sees the danger as I do,” Raven replied. “Does it trouble you to work in shadows? Or do you wish for a parade to be given in your honour by those that you have saved?”

“I only care for the salvation of Equestria,” Silver Spear growled.

“Then you understand what must be done,” Raven said. “This visitor from Jupiter must die, before he brings a horde of conquerors down upon us once again; Equestria is not prepared for such, not now; we have been at peace too long. He must die.”

“For what else did you awaken me but to take his life?” Silver Spear replied. He levitated helm and mask upon his head, encasing himself completely – even his horn – within his armour. “For what else did I slumber all these years but to fight this battle? I will kill this dog, for all that Celestia in her soft heart has shown kindness on him. I will kill him, and though she may hate me for it at least she will have space and life and free though in which to hate me.” His voice echoed out of all-enclosing helmet, but when he ceased to speak a sigh escaped his lips like hissing out of the armour. “One thousand years,” he murmured. “One thousand years and all my comrades dead and turned to dust.”

“In that, too, we are very much alike,” Raven said softly. “Take comfort in knowing that your dear friends and battle companions lived out their lives and died peaceful deaths in a peaceful land.”

Silver Spear looked at her. “And yours were not so fortunate?”

“And I was not so fortunate as to sleep away their passing,” Raven spat. “All that I do I do in memory and love of them.”

“We will avenge them, you and I.”

“It will be more than vengeance for me, if we win,” Raven said. “When we win,” she hastily corrected herself.

“Aye,” Silver Spear muttered. “When we win.” He placed the tip of his spear upon the ground, and touched the snout of his armoured mask upon the apple. “I go now to war once more, and whatever befalls this will be my last riding. Of my conduct I am not ashamed. I have bested enough monsters in my life. Provided I defeat this last one then I may die content.”

“A noble sentiment,” Raven said. “And worthy of a pony of the elder days. Will you come with me now, or do you need more time.”

“No more,” he said. “I am armed and well prepared. Lead on. Where may this wretch, this danger to our princess and our peace, be found?”

Interrupted

Interrupted

“Lightning?”

Lightning turned his neck, looking down his marbled flank to see Miss Twilight standing in the doorway of the doughnut shop, looking at him curiously.

Lightning bowed his head. “Miss Twilight.”

Twilight smiled. “At any point do you plan on dropping the ‘Miss’? Twilight or Twilight Sparkle will be just fine.”

It was Lightning’s turn to smile at her. “Perhaps for some, Miss Twilight, but… I am not quite ready yet. Ask me again later and it may be… appropriate.”

Twilight chuckled. “This isn’t going to be one of those things that goes on for years, is it?”

“No, Miss Twilight,” Lightning replied. “But I am afraid that it will go on just a little longer.”

Twilight trotted out of the shop – the door closed behind her with a tinkle of the bell – and walked, her hooves tapping upon the soft green stone of the pavement, until she stood alongside Lightning. “What are you doing out here?”

“Just… breathing in the air,” Lightning said softly. “Of our new home.”

Twilight looked up at the moon, shining its silver light down upon them; shining its light down upon her coat and making her seem to almost shimmer with an ethereal loveliness. “Any regrets?” she asked him.

“No,” Lightning said quickly. “None at all.”

Twilight’s eyes narrowed. “You know, it’s okay to admit it if you do. It’s even okay to admit that you’ve made a mistake, what you’ve done isn’t yet irreversible.”

“What makes you think I’ve made a mistake?” Lightning asked.

“I don’t,” Twilight said. “But what I think doesn’t matter because it’s not my choice. It’s yours, and Krysta’s; but you don’t have to pretend that everything about your decision in the throne room is perfect and sits perfectly with you out of any kind of pride or stubbornness. After all this is… this is a huge change we’re talking about. You’re not just moving house or moving city you’re… you’re moving world.” She paused for a moment. “I try to imagine leaving Ponyville, leaving all of my friends behind, going back to Canterlot, or moving to Fillydelphia, starting over where I didn’t know anypony… leaving five sixths of my heart behind.” Even the thought of it seemed to make her sad, Lightning thought he caught sight of a little water in the corner of one eye. “I can’t do it. My mind rebels against it. If I actually had to do it I’m not sure how I’d manage it. But what you’ve just decided to do is so much greater than that that it’s… it’s kind of unimaginable.”

“I’m not leaving half my heart behind,” Lightning replied. “Rather, I have brought it to a new world where it may beat a little easier.”

Twilight was silent a moment. “Is that why you want to pretend that you have no regrets? For Krysta’s sake? Because if you actually do have regrets then Krysta is the first person you should share them with. If you don’t… she’ll realise that you’re not happy, and how can you expect her to be happy when she blames herself for the fact that you’re miserable?”

“I…” Lightning began, before trailing. “I suppose I can understand the wisdom of your words, Miss Twilight, and I thank you for your wise counsel, but on the other hoof I cannot but feel that if I were to unburden myself to Krysta she might think that I was trying to make her feel guilty for my choice and that… I could never do that to her. She is happy now, happier than I’ve seen her in so long and that fact is my fault, the result of my decisions which I made selfishly with no regard for her. If I can repay the harm that I have done by putting her first for now then should I not do so? How can I do otherwise?”

“How long will that happiness of Krysta’s last once your contentment fades?” Twilight asked in response.

“My regrets are not so great as that,” Lightning said.

“Ah, but you do have regrets,” Twilight declared.

Lightning laughed softly. “Of course,” he acknowledged. “How could I not when, as you have pointed out, this is a great change in my life. In our lives. And yet the sum of all my regrets is but a molehill compared to the feelings that Krysta’s joy inspires in me which is as great as this mountain that looms above us here.”

Twilight glanced up the mountain, taller than the spires of the palace they had left behind, snow-capped and purple-seeming in the moonlight. She glanced at the shop behind them, where the party was still going on in their absence. “Would you like to walk with me?” she asked. “Somewhere we can talk without… without Krysta hearing, if it means that much to you.”

Lightning looked at her; stared at her, to be perfectly honest. By the light she was so lovely to look upon, her features so soft, her eyes so bright. “I… I would like that very much,” he said, his voice coming out a little hoarse. “But I am not sure that I should leave Krysta alone.”

Twilight laughed, a rich sound and pleasant to his ears like the taste of honey upon his tongue. “Krysta’s not alone. She’s with my friends, and Princess Celestia. Trust me, they’ll take care of her.”

He did trust her. Looking into her eyes he found that he trusted her more than… his trust in her was absolute, he could not even conceive that she would mean him or Krysta ill. Few indeed were those he trusted so well as Twilight Sparkle, and after so short an acquaintance. What power did she possess that she had such an effect on him? He did not know, he simply said, “Then by all means, Miss Twilight, lead the way.”

Twilight led him up the street in a quite literal sense, as it soon became clear that they were ascending to one of the higher levels of the city, climbing a set of marble steps lined with a gilded banister. Lightning was very glad that he had Miss Twilight for a guide, for he feared that without her extensive knowledge of this place he himself would have become hopelessly lost.

Miss Twilight brought him to a balcony on the edge of the city, a circle floored with tiles of white marble that glowed softly in the moonlight and, he guessed, would have gleamed in the sunlight had they visited during the day; it was a place where one could stand upon the battlements and feel the breeze ruffle through your mane even as it blew the Equestrian standards fluttering gently on either side of them. It was a place were you could stand and see the whole world spread out before you; or so Lightning felt as he stood there, at any rate, with Twilight at his side and Equestria before him: the lower levels of Canterlot spreading down the mountainside and out over the sharp drop below, the houses all so white, effulgent in the darkness; the green fields, and the trees that dotted the meadows and the moorland spreading out all the way to Ponvyille, and the vast expanse of the Everfree Forest lying just beyond, a shadowy sight in the night’s gloom.

“You have a beautiful world, Miss Twilight,” Lightning murmured. “It more than does justice to the legends.”

“It’s your world too, now,” Twilight pointed out.

Lightning smiled. “Yes,” he said. “It is our world, mine and Krysta’s.”

“Unless you’re having second thoughts,” Twilight said softly. “Unless you change your mind.”

Lightning shook his head. “As I told you, Miss Twilight, my regrets and my misgivings are not so great. They are minor things, all told.”

“Such as?” Twilight asked.

“Purpose,” Lightning conceded. “In New Olympia I know – I knew – what I was doing and why, always. I was a part of something greater than myself, a great engine, no not an engine, a… a leviathan, if that makes any sense, Miss Twilight. In New Olympia we are all a scale in the armour of His Majesty, and he moves his power by moving us.”

“And that’s a good thing?” Twilight asked sceptically.

“I always knew what I was doing and why,” Lightning replied. “That is a comforting certainty that I will not have here. I will have to find a new path to walk.”

“And that’s it?” Twilight said. “That is your one regret?”

Lightning chuckled. “What else should I say, Miss Twilight? What else should I mourn the loss of? My princely privilege, my home in the palace? These are my trivialities, what are they worth compared with Krysta’s smile, her joy? My sister and her happiness are dearer to me than any number of such trappings and belongings.”

“Are things all else there is?” Twilight replied. “You don’t have any friends that you’re leaving behind?”

“I had comrades, and I feel a touch of guilt that I am leaving them to carry on the struggle without my assistance,” Lightning said. “But at the same time I know their quality, their valour and their skill at arms, I have no fears that they will flounder in my absence.”

“But you won’t miss them?”

“No,” Lightning said. “I… I never knew them well enough to miss.”

“I see,” Twilight replied, in a tone that was not entirely enthusiastic. She looked away from Lightning and out over the battlements to look at the land spread out before them. “Still, you have a chance to start over now.” She chuckled. “I’m afraid that I can’t promise you a great purpose, but if you’re willing to look for it I know that there’s a destiny waiting for you somewhere. It might not be particularly grand, but it exists.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because this is Equestria, where there is a destiny awaiting everyone,” Twilight replied. “Even those who haven’t found it yet, no matter how hard they might try.”

“That is a comforting thought,” Lightning said.

“I find it so.”

“And rightly so,” Lightning said. “I had such hopes, when Krysta and I were younger, that our road would lead us to a place where we could be accepted, safe and happy, and it would turn out that this had always been the intended end of our wanderings. It… it made the rejection and the hardships easier to bear in the meantime.”

“And in the end it was true,” Twilight said. “It wasn’t just a comforting fantasy you had to tell yourself, because the end of your road led you here.”

He looked at her, to see that she was looking at him. He felt as though he ought to speak, but the words were stuck in his throat.

“Have you thought,” Twilight continued. “About what you’re going to do at all? I appreciate it hasn’t been very long.”

“And yet I have had at least one thought,” Lightning said. “With your help I will sell my armour.”

Twilight’s eyebrows rose. “You’re going to sell your armour?”

“It is of no use to me here,” Lightning said. “But it is good metal, forged in dragonflame and enchanted by the powerful archmages of the court; it must be worth something. Perhaps enough to pay you back for your hospitality these past few days.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Twilight said quickly.

“But I want to, nonetheless,” Lightning said. “Please, do not condemn me to feel a freeloader for years to come.”

Twilight smiled. “Alright,” she conceded. “If you want to pay me back you can, but you’ll still have a lot of bits left over from the sale of your armour, I think, I hope; if it’s everything you say it is. You could go anywhere, buy a house… you couldn’t live on that forever, though.”

“No,” Lightning agreed. “I will need to find some sort of work to support Krysta and myself.”

“Do you have any ideas?” Twilight said.

“Have you anything to suggest?”

Twilight shrugged. “I could talk to my brother, maybe find you a place in the royal guard?”

“Here, in Canterlot?”

“Yes,” Twilight said. “Is that a problem?”

“I suppose not,” Lightning said softly. “But, I confess I was rather hoping to stay not only in Equestria but also in Ponyville, and find some way to keep myself occupied there.”

Twilight looked up at him. Her eyes seemed very big, and very beautiful, with all the stars reflected in her orbs. “In Ponyville,” she whispered. “Why?”

Lightning looked down upon her, marvelling at the sight of her. With the moonlight shining on her coat, and the starlight reflecting in her eyes, she was practically irresistible to him at this point. “Twilight,” he said. “Do you not know?”

Twilight’s lip twitched upwards. “So we’re dropping the miss now?”

“I think the time is right,” Lightning murmured; he bent down to kiss her.

He sensed the magical blast coming a second before it hit, but that second was enough for him to push Twilight to the ground, shielding her with his body from the beam of midnight blue that blasted through the battlement where they had been standing.

“What the-“ Twilight gasped.

An armoured figure emerged out of the darkness, clad from head to hoof in carapace of war, his horn and even his face concealed beneath it.

“I see that I am not a moment too soon,” the armoured warrior growled.

Lightning surged to his hooves, teeth bared, as the instincts that his training had instilled in him, and that his services to the King of Kings in war as a knight of the Star Legion had reinforced, took over the rule and governance of his body like a dictator with unchecked power endowed. He barely thought, he did not wonder, he did not ask questions, he merely reacted to this armoured apparition as he would to any Saturnine warrior or lizardman outlaw or any other threat savage or civilised; it didn't matter that he didn't have his armour on, or that his white suit offered no protection, he acted just the same.

Lightning got swiftly to his hooves and with equal swiftness threw himself between Twilight and the danger, bodily blocking this strange armoured pony from being able to reach her. At the same time he summoned his blade, Bolt of Dawn; in that small part of his mind which was not wholly ruled by instinct and habitual practice Lightning was glad that his desertion from the Star Legion was not yet known to His Majesty, because if it had been then this splendid blade would no doubt have been taken away from him, but he had need of it now.

Before, when he had summoned the blade to show to Twilight Sparkle, he had summoned it slowly, and from the hilt first the better to show off to her both the sword itself and the magic by which he summoned it; now he summoned it in need and haste, and the blade shot out of the shimmering golden portal with the force of an arrow in flight or a javelin thrown: it sliced through the air straight towards this armoured danger who had so suddenly appeared to menace them. It flew towards him; the stallion's horn flared - Lightning could see the glow surrounding the armour that protected his horn - and his spear moved by telekinesis, wreathed in a light blue aura of magic, to bat aside Lightning's blade, which flew point first into the stone, cracking the marble tiles with the force of its impact.

"I came here searching for a warrior of Olympia," the stallion growled. "I am no coward, but I count myself fortunate I found a fop instead."

Lightning charged, not in response to the feeble jibe but because it was the natural next step, his initial gambit with Bolt of Dawn having failed. He charged, his hooves beating a harsh drumbeat upon the white stone of the balcony as he hurled himself bodily upon his foe. Lightning reared, whinnying as he kicked out with his fore hooves; his enemy gave ground before him, drawing his silver spear back with telekinesis before thrusting it forth and upwards towards Lightning's chest. Lightning slammed his hooves together, catching the spear just behind the point, stopping it dead in its tracks before it pierced his flesh, gripping it tight with a strength born of his immense size and the many augments that had been bestowed on him, holding on despite the attempts of his enemy to pull it back with magic. Lightning remained balanced upon his hind legs, flaring out his wings to stead himself, barely wobbling as he held on to the weapon of his enemy. His horn glowed golden, and Bolt of Dawn, obedient to his command, erupted out of the ground, twirled in air and flew point first, straight and true, towards the armoured flank of his enemy.

Lightning's foe perceived it before the stroke fell. Lightning heard a growl of frustration issue from inside the all-enclosing helmet before a bolt of blue light shot from the armoured horn and struck Lightning in the breast. He growled in pain as he was blasted backwards, slamming into the crenellations hard enough to crack the stonework behind him as the armoured stallion turned with quicksilver speed and once more battered Bolt of Dawn aside.

Lightning winced in pain as the point where the magic had struck him pulsated with agony. The iron-clad visage of his foe was impassive as he turned to face Lightning one more.

"Wait!" Twilight cried, and it was her turn to stand between Lightning and danger, unasked, unlooked for. "What is going on here? Who are you, and why are you attacking Lightning?"

"My name is Silver Spear," he declared. "And if I am attacking only him, it is because so far he has been the only one fighting back."

Twilight, Lightning thought. Not only me, but both of us. "Are you mad?" he demanded, as he got to his feet. "Don't you know that this is Twilight Sparkle, personal student of Princess Celestia herself?"

"If that is so then the princess standards have fallen greatly," Silver Spear said. "But all I see is a whore."

Twilight gasped. Lightning growled. "Recant such filth and I may leave you a bone unbroken when all this is done."

Silver Spear's laugh was harsh, and tinged with bitterness. "I know what I saw," he said. "I saw her giving herself to you, an Olympian invader, in spite of all the suffering that lies between our peoples!"

"What are you talking about?" Twilight demanded. "What do you think is going on here? Lightning and I-"

"Are too dangerous to be allowed to live," Silver Spear growled. "I have sworn to guard this magical land against any Olympians and against any who would stand alongside them. For the safety of this land, and of Princess Celestia, I must kill you both."

"You will not harm her while I draw breath," Lightning vowed.

"Then I will be sure to kill you first."

"Why does anyone have to die? Will you both please stop for just one second?" Twilight demanded. "It's like you're trying to make one another mad because you want to fight."

"I believe he wishes to fight very much," Lightning said. "Given that he has attacked us and insulted your honour with vile slander."

"My honour is not so precious to me that I will insist upon a fight to the death for its sake," Twilight replied. "Or any other kind of fight either, for that matter." She looked at Silver Spear. "I don't know why you are so convinced that we are so dangerous that we must be eliminated, but I'm sure that if we- wait; did you say your name was Silver Spear?"

"I did," Silver Spear replied curtly. "For that my name truly is."

"And that armour," Twilight murmured. "Not Celestia's Royal Guard captain Silver Spear?"

"You... know me?" Silver Spear asked, gruffness in his voice giving way to surprise.

"Of course I know you," Twilight replied. "You're a historical figure! Not to mention you're my brother's role model as Captain of the Royal Guard... only... you died, a thousand years ago."

"Not died, no," Silver Spear declared. "I was placed in an enchanted sleep, to awaken once again when an Olympian walked abroad in Equestria."

"To kill them?" Twilight said softly, with only a hint of a question at the end.

"Aye," he said. "For the good of Equestria, and in the name of Princess Celestia."

"I don't know what Princess Celestia was like one thousand years ago," Twilight replied. "But I can't believe the princess I know would ever willingly seek the death of another pony, not least one who has done no harm."

"No harm-" Silver Spear began.

"No harm," Twilight repeated. "We have just come from an audience with Princess Celestia herself, where she granted Lightning Dawn leave to remain in Equestria for as long as he wished."

"I am aware, and though I know not what madness-"

"No madness but compassion," Twilight insisted. "And for his own part Lightning has renounced his title as a prince of New Olympia, to live here as a common pony of Equestria, and never go home."

"Because he will bring his home to us!"

"No!" Lightning said sharply. "I do not know why the quest of our people is looked upon with such suspicion, I do not know why you hate me so nor do I know why even Princess Celestia seems so concerned with the fact that Equestria cannot be found by any other from New Olympia save by another happy accident but I care not. I have renounced that life, and will make Equestria my home. With or without your leave."

"Lightning," Twilight growled at him, much as Lightning himself would often growl at Krysta to get her to behave herself. She returned her attention to Silver Spear. "You... you have no idea how much I would just like to geek out about the magic that has preserved you like this, at the height of your powers, for a thousand years; or be in awe of a figure from history returned to the present day like this. You can have no idea how much I want that without the complication of you trying to kill my... my friend." She paused for a moment. "My name is Twilight Sparkle, and it's a great honour to meet you, Captain Silver Spear."

"You think I can be swayed by base and shallow flattery?" he demanded.

"I think that your reputation as a unicorn of great honour cannot be so wholly undeserved that you would murder two ponies without giving them a chance to explain themselves," Twilight replied. "I am Princess Celestia's student; you can think what you like about whether I deserve to be or not but the fact remains that I am her student and I give you my word that I would never put Princess Celestia or Equestria in any jeopardy. Let me take you to her. Come with us and let the princess herself convince you that there is no need for any violence. Come with us, and I'm sure that everything can be resolved peacefully."

It was a strange thing, almost miraculous, but as she spoke Lightning felt as though Twilight Sparkle was doing magic, casting a spell with her voice more powerful than any that she could cast with her horn; it was astonishing, he had never heard or seen anything quite like it; no pony of New Olympia would have thought it in any way worth their time to treat with an enemy - one who had already attacked them no less - in such a fashion. But not only did Twilight make the attempt, but as she spoke Lightning felt it was almost certain that she would succeed, such was the earnest conviction in her voice. She was not a great orator - not yet at least, though who knew what she might become with time - but she spoke from the heart, and that fact alone gave her words power. And as Silver Spear listened to her, standing silent, invisible within his all-encompassing armour, the more Lightning felt it was inevitable that he would acquiesce to Twilight's request, and halt his raging.

It was the strangest thing he had ever seen... but perhaps, also, the most awe-inspiring.

Silver Spear bowed his head. "As you wish, Twilight Sparkle," he said. "I will go with you, and-"

There was a gleam of gold in the darkness behind Silver Spear, and a knife - with a long blade and a broad, curved hilt fashioned to look like some kind of antler - flew out of the night to strike him in the flank. It glanced off his armour with an audible chinking sound.

From within the armour of Silver Spear there arose a fierce growl. "A trick?" he snarled, and his horn flared as he wielded his spear in the grip of his magic, striking Twilight across the face hard enough to knock her to the ground. "All that talk just to distract me?" He pointed his spear down at her.

Lightning slammed bodily into him from the side, wrapping his fore hooves around his less heavily built opponent and bearing him to the ground with a rattle and a thud. The two rolled over one another, Lightning grappling with Silver Spear to try and keep him pinned down, maybe hold him until-

Silver Spear snarled wordlessly, and Lightning felt himself thrown off the opposing unicorn, bounced along the marble surface of the balcony by the force of his enemy's magic. He rolled onto his hooves, and his own horn flared out to grab hold of Bolt of Dawn and bring it up into a guard before him just as Silver Spear, also climbing to his hooves, did likewise with his lance.

"I told you," Lightning growled. "You will not harm Twilight whilst I live."

"And I told you that I will see you both slain before I see any harm come to this land," Silver Spear declared. "I should have known better than to listen to -"

"Silence!" Lightning snapped. "Speak with your spear, not with your filthy tongue."

Silver Spear fell silent, as if in obedience to Lightning Dawn's command. For a moment it seemed - for his eyes were as concealed as everything else about the unicorn within his carapace of war - that he stared at his larger but less well protected enemy. And then he came, his silver spear singing as it wove an argent pattern through the cool night air.

Lightning met him with an assault of his own; he kept Bolt of Dawn firmly in the grip of his telekinesis, magic which - though clumsy compared to the dexterity with which Twilight and Miss Rarity wielded their magic - was nevertheless more than adequate for business of battle with a sword like his. He wielded Bolt of Dawn in a series of ferocious slashing strokes, closing swiftly with his foe and then slicing at him as though he were a loaf of bread, meeting the flourishing thrusts of the silver spear with crude, powerful strokes that forced Silver Spear onto the defensive, driving him back as his sword hammered upon Silver Spear's guard.

Lightning's blows were fuelled by rage. He was angry. This Silver Spear, however ancient and well-renowned he may have been, had hurt Twilight, threatened her with death what was more, and Lightning could not abide either of those things because Twilight... Twilight was precious to him. He was not some tied up foal any more forced to watch helplessly as the farmer had his way; he was a knight and a stallion strong and this Silver Spear would know the difference. He drove him backwards, pounding on his guard, and the look of fury on his face was transfigured by the slightest hint of a smirk as Bolt of Dawn began to hack through the silver spear, chipping away it, slicing off shavings of it, causing the captain's lance to start to buckle under the assault.

Lightning let out a triumphant keening cry as he sliced clean through the silver spear. Bolt of Dawn struck the ground with the heavy hammer blow sound of a thunderbolt. Lightning raised the blade again. A bolt of magic shot from Silver Spear's horn to strike the blade, knocking it out of the grip of Lightning's disrupted telekinesis and sending it flying over the balcony to drop down out of sight and somewhere into Canterlot below.

It was Silver Spear's turn to sound triumphant. "I will not lose to you, Olympian," he cried, as he drove the half of his broken spear which yet bore the point into Lightning's shoulder. "For Celestia, I will not lose!"

Lightning felt the spear point pierce his flesh. He felt the fiery pain spread across his shoulder and down his leg, but he did not halt nor hesitate nor waver, for he was driven by a power stronger than pain, he too fought for someone who would not allow him to fail her. And so, for Twilight's sake, it didn't matter that he had been stabbed, it didn't matter that he had no sword, all that mattered was that he fight on, for her. And so he gritted his teeth and reared up and kicked Silver Spear in the face with his fore hoof hard enough to stagger him sideways. Lightning followed up with a blow to the shoulder, then another to the face, and he was driving Silver Spear back before him, rearing up to deliver mighty blows with his fore hooves again and again, blows falling like hammers, denting Silver Spear's ancient armour as he struck. The shoulders, the helm, the breastplate, everywhere the hammer fell the metal began to buckle and bend, letting out tortured sounds more terrible than the cries of pain from Silver Spear himself.

Lightning felt something slice across the hamstring of his right leg; he gasped in pain as he staggered, his leg nearly giving way beneath his weight. He was thrown off balance for a moment, which moment was all that Silver Spear needed to blast Lightning aside with a powerful beam of magic that sent him flying before dumping him heavily upon his side - his injured side, crushing one wing and striking his injured shoulder too. Nevertheless, despite the pain from wing and shoulder Lightning tried to rise, but Silver Spear's horn glowed once again to conjure magical bindings that held him fast and dragged him to the ground, holding him helpless.

With his magic, Silver Spear tore off the dented and twisted armour that protected his jaw; it clattered to the ground amidst much blood, and Lightning could see that he was bleeding from the mouth, and badly too. It looked like he was struggling to stay on his hooves. "Fop, I called you? No. You are worthy to call yourself an Olympian warrior. They always were obscenely tough to face. That was why... why I had to stay. Because I was the only pony, who could beat... somepony like you. And the only pony who could do what had to be done." He began to walk, slowly, stiffly, towards Twilight Sparkle.

"No!" Lightning roared, struggling in vain against his magical restraints. "No! Come over here! Kill me if you wish but leave her alone!"

Silver Spear ignored him. He stood over Twilight, who looked up, dazed, her mouth forming a 'no' of her own.

Silver Spear's hoof descended on her, and Lightning heard Twilight cry out as he kicked her in the head, shattering the remains of her star-shaped earring.

His fore hoof rose again, but before it could descend a terrible roar emerged from Lightning's throat, a roar of desperation and anger because he would not let this happen, no matter how helpless he might seem he would not let this happen!

He felt the fire come, as it came before. He felt it burning in his blood, he felt it rushing through his body, he felt it come at his most desperate call, filled with nothing in the world but a desire to strike down his enemies and protect those who were dear to him.

The solaforce rushed out of his golden horn in a burning beam, roaring like the most savage of dragons, crackling like the hottest of flames, burning white in its intensity. It crossed the distance to Silver Spear in an instant, struck him, and consumed him.

Silver Spear screamed as he died. He screamed as the fire of heaven consumed him armour and all; he screamed as he was turned to ashes while he yet lived; he screamed as the power of the gods themselves struck him down for his arrogance and is cruelty.

Lightning heard him scream, and liked it.

Until he saw the way that Twilight was looking at him, as Silver Spear was turned to dust and ashes. She did not look amazed. She did not look grateful as Krysta had done.

She looked horrified.

And that look of horror was imprinted on Lightning's mind as he lost consciousness.

Culture-Shock Argument

Culture-Shock Argument

Lightning’s eyes remained closed as he regained consciousness, but even before they opened he felt a sensation of weight upon his belly. He opened his eyes, to see Krysta lying, asleep, on top of his stomach; her hair, returned to its usual dark colour, although with a few muted neon blue streaks in the same pattern as the streaks in Twilight’s mane, lay splayed out across his marbled coat. One of his forelegs had ended up tucked over her shoulders, as though even when he was sleeping he was still trying to embrace her.

“Krysta?” Lightning murmured, shifting a little in what swiftly became clear to him was a bed. A bed in which he was lying on his back, while Krysta lay on top of him.

“Huh?” Krysta replied, stirring into wakefulness herself. Her blue eyes widened even larger than they were already as she saw Lightning staring back at her. “You’re awake!” she cried, as she tried to untangle herself from under his foreleg and wrap her arms around his neck. “You’re awake and come on, dude, get off me so I can give you a hug.”

“I don’t know, I might prefer to keep you at this distance,” Lightning replied dryly.

Krysta stopped struggling long enough to give him a flat stare. Then, slowly, a mischievous grin spread across her features.

Lightning’s eyes narrowed. “What are you thinking?”

Krysta lowered her hands, then spread them out on either side of herself, creating a portal underneath her feet – and another one directly on top of Lightning.

“Krysta, wait-“

“Look out below!” Krysta yelled triumphantly, as she dropped through the first portal and out of the bottom of the second, descending upon Lightning like a bomb to land heavily upon his chest and wrap her arms around him just like she’d always planned to do.

Lightning groaned at the initial impact, before he began to laugh – even his laughter retained a slightly groaning quality to it.

“You’re awake,” Krysta repeated. “You are awake.” She took a deep breath. “Don’t scare me like that again, okay?”

“Scare you?” Lightning asked as he looked up at her. “Krysta, I think you’re overreacting just a little bit.”

Krysta’s eyes flared with anger. “I got told that you had been brought into the hospital after you got in a fight that left you bleeding and unconscious so don’t you tell me that I am overreacting Lightning Dawn! I was worried about you! I was…” she sniffed, and wiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her black jacket. “I was so worried.”

Lightning looked down – as best he could – at his shoulder; there was a bandage on it, but honestly – not that he was a brilliant judge of this kind of thing – he thought he had probably had worse. “You know that I’ve been injured before, in the field.”

“Yeah, I know that but just because I know it doesn’t mean I gotta like it!” Krysta snapped. She sniffed again, and wiped once more at her eyes. “Agh! The one advantage of you getting beat up out in the field before is that you never have to see me like this. I didn’t… you’re not supposed to see this.” She rolled athletically off him, leaping off the bed to land with her back to Lightning, her head ever so slightly bowed.

Never have to see me like this. Lightning’s brow furrowed. “Krysta… have you wept all this while?”

“What, did you think I didn’t care that you were getting hurt?” Krysta demanded angrily. “Did you think I didn’t care that every time you went off to war I was left to worry if this time was going to be the time you didn’t come back? Did you think that I didn’t care that you kept coming back with more scars? Do you think that I don’t worry every day that I might lose you?”

Lightning was silent for a moment. “I… I suppose I never really thought about it.”

Krysta snorted. “Oh, why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“It’s because I’ve been very selfish and a terrible brother, I know,” Lightning confessed. “But it’s also because… I think it’s also because I’ve never really had any fear for my own life, so I never expected that anyone else would fear for it either.”

Krysta looked over her shoulder to glare at him. “You idiot! It’s because you don’t worry about your own life that I have to worry about it for you! It’s because you don’t fear for your own life that you’re going to get yourself killed one of these days.” She shook her head. “That… this was the hidden reason, you know?”

“No,” Lightning admitted. “I don’t know.”

“This was the reason I didn’t tell you why I wanted to stay here,” Krysta declared.

Lightning stared at her. “All the reasons you gave me-“

“Are perfectly true and perfectly valid,” Krysta said quickly. “But there was an extra reason which I knew I couldn’t tell you because if I did you’d just get all defensive and puff out your chest and tell me not to worry my little head but… I thought that… this place is so nice and peaceful and… and I thought that if we stayed here you wouldn’t get in so many fights, and I wouldn’t have to worry so much about you getting hurt.”

Something else I didn’t get. I’m such an idiot, aren’t I?

An idiot who doesn’t deserve a sister like you.

He tried to smile. “For what it’s worth, I think you were mostly right about that. This… this was the exception, not the rule.”

“That doesn’t make me feel a whole lot better when you still ended up in the hospital,” Krysta replied. “So what happened?”

Lightning looked around the room, from the unfamiliar ceiling to the sterile beige walls that surrounded them both, the faded table and the worn chair beside the bed. He and Krysta were all alone in here. “Where’s Twilight? Is she-“

“She’s okay,” Krysta said quickly. “She got a little banged up, but they’re treating her in a different room. Or at least they were.”

Lightning sighed with relief. “That… that is very good to hear.” He flinched at the memory of Twilight’s last expression, the look of horror writ large upon her face. “Has she said anything-“

“Not that I’ve heard but, Lightning, don’t worry about that now,” Krysta insisted. She closed the already short distance between her and her adopted brother. She leaned down. “There are a couple of guards outside your room. They say you killed someone. What happened out there?”

“I almost kissed Twilight,” Lightning confessed.

Krysta stared at him for a moment, her eyes boggling. Her face brightened visibly as a beam crossed her face. “Seriously? Wh-h-y-w- how was it?”

“Krysta!”

“Come on, dude, you can’t just drop that on me and then not expect follow-ups.”

“I’m not sure that Twilight will be particularly keen to follow up, as it were,” Lightning groaned.

“That bad huh?” Krysta asked.

Lightning gave her a look.

“Right, right, this is serious,” Krysta said, holding up her hands defensively. “Okay then, seriously: how did you go from kissing Twilight to killing a guy.”

“The guy showed up and attacked us,” Lightning said.

“So you kicked his flank, right, Knight of the Star Legion?”

“Not exactly,” Lightning admitted. “I think… I think someone else might have been there too, interfering with the fight. There was a moment… Twilight had nearly persuaded him to cease his hostility towards us, but then this knife flew out of the dark and… and the moment was lost.” Lightning leaned back on his pillow. “And then later, I almost had him, but I was attacked from behind and he got the upper hoof. He bound me, and then he started attacked Twilight.”

Krysta covered her mouth with both hands. “You used the Fire of Heaven on him, didn’t you?”

“It was just like that time on the farm,” Lightning said. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“I’m not sure they see it the same way,” Krysta said.

Lightning frowned. “What do you mean?”

The door opened, and Captain Shining Armour walked in. He was wearing his purple raiment of war, and his crested helmet was upon his head, he made no move to take it off.

His horn glowed as he closed the door behind him, and then he simply glared at Lightning Dawn for a good few moments before he deigned to speak. “You know this is the first killing I’ve had to look into since I got this job. Usually this city is gentler than that. Ponies here in Canterlot aren’t perfect, but they’re not murderers.”

Lightning grunted as he rolled out of bed on the opposite side to that on which Krysta stood. His leg ached a little where he had been struck from behind, but he could stand without difficulty. “I am not a murderer,” he said. “Our assailant, Silver Spear, attacked first. I merely defended myself, and your sister.”

Shining Armour inhaled through his nostrils, and then snorted like a bull. “That’s what Twily says, too. Believe me, that’s the only reason that I’m not throwing the book at you right now.” He took a deep breath. “But, since you were attacked first, and since you acted to defend Twilight, you’re free to leave as soon as you’re recovered.”

Lightning Dawn blinked. “There are no charges? I will face no punishment?”

“No,” Shining Armour said. “But I will ask you for a professional courtesy, from one soldier to another.”

“Name it.”

Shining Armour stared at him flatly. “Stay away from my sister,” he said flatly, before he turned around and marched out of the door, slamming it behind him.

“That went well,” Krysta muttered. “At least you’re not going to prison, I guess.”

“Have you spoken to Twilight?” Lightning asked.

“No,” Krysta admitted. “I heard a little about what had gone on, but not from her.”

Lightning scowled. He saw Twilight’s face at the forefront of his mind, that horrified expression on her face at what he had done. He needed to talk to her. He needed to explain to her. He needed to see if that look of horror meant what he thought it meant. “I need to talk to her.”

“Uh, but her brother just said-“

“Captain Armour is the Captain of the Royal Guard, not of my soul,” Lightning said sharply. “I understand his concern, but it is fundamentally misguided. Unless you, too, believe that I’m a threat to Twilight?”

Krysta was silent for a moment. Then she smirked. “We’re going to make a rebel out of you yet, Lightning Dawn. Come with me, I think I know where her room is.”

Krysta had to reach up a little to get the door open, but she did open the door and peaked out to make sure the coast was clear, Lightning looming over her as he tried to do the same, looking up and down the sterile hospital corridor, with its tiled floor and walls covered in notepads and charts. Of Shining Armour there was no sign, or any of his guards for that matter, although Lightning did not discount the possibility that he would have gone back to visit his sister.

But that was something that they – that he, Lightning wasn’t going to get Krysta involved in this – would have to deal with when they got there. For now, the two of them slipped out of the room…and then discovered that there had been little need for them to sneak as none of the doctors, nurses or orderlies whom they passed as they walked or trotted briskly down the corridors spared them more than a passing glance. Apparently most of them had no idea who he or Krysta were, or if they did they didn’t care. It was humbling for his ego, and at the same time it was good to know that he had not been transformed into a fearsome monster in the eyes of the populace.

And yet, that look on Twilight’s face. If I have not become a monster in her eyes I will be very surprised.

As he made his way through the hospital Lightning was also surprised – at least a little – to discover how much that idea irritated him. He had saved her life and she reacted to him as though he had done something terrible in the process? Why? Would she rather he’d just let her die? Was it the fact that he had taken a life that she objected to or was it the manner in which he had done it? Either way, what would have she have rather he did with her own safety in peril like that?

“Krysta,” he said. “When I… when I used the solaforce to protect you, you were never scared of me, were you?”

“Scared of you?” Krysta repeated. “No, never.”

Lightning nodded. “Why not?”

“Why should I have been?”

“I’d just demonstrated immense destructive power.”

“Yeah, on a jerk,” Krysta replied. “I knew that you wouldn’t use it on me.”

“How could you be so sure?”

Krysta stopped. “Lightning, what’s this about?”

Lightning glanced down at her. “I’m trying to understand why Twilight looked at me the way she did. So you were never afraid?”

“No,” Krysta said earnestly. “Not for a moment. Because you’re my big brother, and I knew that you’d never do anything to hurt me… not on purpose, anyway, and certainly not like that.”

“Thank you for that, even with the qualifications,” Lightning said. “Do you think… do you think that Twilight just doesn’t know me as well as you do?”

“I… I don’t think she’s scared of you,” Krysta said.

“Then why did she look so horrified?”

“I don’t know,” Krysta admitted. “I didn’t see it, but… it might not be fear, it might be… why don’t we just go see her and you can find out for yourself?”

Lightning looked down at Krysta. "You know… you're very wise sometimes."

"And yet you almost never listen to me," Krysta replied. "It's like an ironic curse."

Lightning shook his head, and they continued down the hospital corridors in near silence, Krysta speaking only to direct Lightning on which way she thought they ought to go to reach Twilight's room. Apart from those words, the only sound that they made was the thudding of Lightning's hooves upon the floor, in counterpoint to the barely audible humming of Krysta's gossamer wings as she fluttered alongside him. The sounds of the hospital - crying children, nurses and doctors in engrossed discussion, trolleys with squeaky wheels passing by - arose in confused hubbub all around them, but they neither responded to it nor added much to the racket.

Until they came to the corridor where, Krysta was fairly certain, Twilight was in care. They began to walk down it, when they were both stopped in their tracks by a harsh cry thick with ill temper.

"Hold it right there!" Rainbow Dash snarled, as she flew down the corridor to confront them, a rainbow trail briefly appearing behind her as she stopped, barely an inch from Lightning's snout. Lightning was much taller than she was, but Rainbow was flying above the floor so as to put them muzzle to muzzle, her magenta eyes, blazing with anger, glaring straight into Lightning's eyes of burnished gold. She had shed her tattered gown and all the other accoutrements of the gala, and in her nakedness all her muscles stood out beneath her cyan coat. "Turn around," Rainbow growled. "And walk away. Now."

So, this was another one who judged him for saving Twilight's life, just like Shining Armour did. Lightning was beginning to find this ignorant self-righteousness a little irritating, but he endeavoured to control and to conceal said feelings, as he said simply, "I take it then that Twilight is not far from here."

"What's it to you?" Rainbow demanded.

"I should like to see her."

"Not going to happen," Rainbow said flatly. "Like I said: turn around, walk away."

"And if I don't?" Lightning asked.

"You tell me," Rainbow replied. "Are you going to burn me alive too?"

Lightning growled wordlessly, momentarily baring his teeth at Rainbow Dash, who smirked at the reaction.

"Yeah, that's right," Rainbow said. "Nice to meet the real you."

Lightning closed his mouth, concealing his teeth. He inhaled deeply. "I don't know what you think happened-"

"I don't think anything," Rainbow snapped. "I know that my friend got hurt because of you!"

"I saved her life!"

"From trouble you got her into!" Rainbow yelled. "Twilight wouldn't have been in danger if it wasn't for you! I always knew that you were bad news and after tonight everypony else knows it as well. So you can turn around or you can take me on, but you aren't getting one more step closer to-"

"Rainbow Dash, you have to be quiet, this is a hospital," Twilight said reproachfully as she emerged from one of the rooms further down the corridor. "You can't just yell your head off like that."

Both her cheeks were plastered and bandaged, although this wasn't impeding her ability to speak. Other than that she did not look too much the worse for wear, although that was not to say that Lightning didn't regret that she had suffered the injuries that he could see. Like Rainbow Dash, she had shed her gown and accessories. She made her way slowly, slightly unsteadily upon her hooves, up the corridor towards the three of them.

Rainbow looked back at her. "Twilight, you're supposed to be in bed."

"I'm fine," Twilight insisted, although Lightning had to admit she didn't look completely recovered. "Applejack has already tried to keep me in bed; she didn't succeed, and neither will you." She stopped for a moment. "Now, could you please give us a minute?"

"I really don't think that's a good idea," Rainbow said.

Twilight looked at her. She hadn't yet looked at Lightning Dawn. "Please," she said softly. “Just a moment. Can you wait in the room with the others?"

Rainbow scowled. "Fine," she said, after a moment's hesitation. "But I'll be keeping my ears open." She landed on the ground. "Be careful, Twilight," she added, before she trotted into the room that Twilight had just emerged from.

Twilight still did not meet Lightning's eyes. She looked slightly paler than normal, and she seemed to be keeping close to the corridor wall in case she needed to lean upon it. She said nothing, and Lightning found that - as he remembered the way that she had looked at him when the battle was done - he could not say anything either. He could not find the words to jusitfy or to defend himself without first knowing Twilight's own mind about all this. What did she really think? What lay behind that look of horror? At the moment he felt it like a wall between them, insurmountable, almost unbreakable unless she should choose to remove the first brick from it.

Or unless Krysta, unrestrained by what had passed between Lightning and Twilight, spoke; as she did, "It's great to see you're okay. When I heard you'd got hurt I was pretty worried about you."

Twilight was willing to look at Krysta. "Thanks, Krysta; I took a couple of knocks but I'll be okay." Now, at last, she looked at Lightning Dawn. "Unlike Silver Spear."

Lightning took a deep breath. He worked his lower jaw back and forth. Now they came to it. "Is it the death that you object to?" he asked, trying to keep his tone even. "Or is it the manner of it?"

"Both," Twilight replied. "The manner by which you did it was horrible to witness but even without that the fact would still remain that you killed someone."

"He attacked first," Lightning said.

"So it’s okay because ‘he started it’?” Twilight demanded. “That's the morality of the playground.”

"He was trying to kill us, both of us," Lightning insisted. "He would have killed you if I hadn't done something."

"Then why didn't you do something else?" Twilight demanded.

"Such as what?"

"I don't know, hit him with something that didn't burn him alive?" Twilight suggested sharply.

"Even if that had been within my power, he would have gotten up from that and resumed the battle."

"I was about to get back on my hooves, I could have restrained him."

"Perhaps you could have," Lightning allowed. "If you hadn't wasted time in trying to talk to a vicious, murderous enemy."

Twilight gasped. "So you think that I should have just jumped straight to violence like you did?"

"I think that you are rather naive in certain respects, yes," Lightning said.

"Oh, do you?" Twilight asked sarcastically.

"I have seen war," he told her. "I have fought ponies like Silver Spear for half my life. I know what kind of a pony he is, I know how to fight ponies like that, I know how to kill ponies like that-"

"And that's the only way that you know how to stop them," Twilight whispered, her voice sharp as any blade. "By killing them."

"It is the best way," Lightning replied. "You can be sure it will last."

Twilight's eyes were wide. She took a step backwards, away from Lightning. "You took a life, Lightning; don't you regret that, not at all?"

"Not at all," Lightning replied firmly. "Because in taking that life I saved yours. And I do not regret that. I cannot."

"That's not the point, this isn't about me!" Twilight cried.

"Then what is it about, if not the results?"

"It's about the fact that that's not how we do things here," Twilight cried. "We don't brutally slay our enemies and we don't use ex-post facto justifications to defend it. There was another way. There is always another way. You just had to be willing to look for it." She wobbled slightly upon her hooves. "And if you don't understand then... then I suppose that Rainbow Dash was right about who... and what you are. If you'll excuse me, my friends are probably going to drag me back to bed if I don't come willingly." She turned away, and began to walk uncertainly back towards her room.

"All that I did I did for your sake," Lightning called after her. "And I will not apologise for that, to you or anypony else. I will not apologise for putting the safety of those I care deeply for above that of my enemies; the safety of those that I..." the word stuck in his throat, it would not come, not at such a time as this.

Twilight Sparkle stopped. She looked back for a moment, and those eyes that had shone so brightly and so… so beautifully in the moonlight now seemed dull with disappointment. She looked back, with those disappointed eyes, but said nothing; then she turned away, and disappeared back into the hospital room.

"You know," Krysta said. "I don't think you could have handled that much worse if you were trying."

Lightning could not disagree, and since he could not disagree he did the only thing he could do, the thing that Rainbow Dash had wanted him to do much sooner.

He turned around, and walked away.

Apology

Apology

“Lightning stop!” Krysta cried. “Just… just stop, okay? You can’t do this.”

Lightning did stop, in response to her insistent cries. He turned back towards her. He and his sister stood upon the outskirts of Ponyville, having already passed through the town without stopping, ignoring the way that Rainbow Dash had followed them from above to make sure they didn’t go anywhere near Twilight. Twilight – Miss Twilight, Lightning supposed he ought to call her once more – and her friends had returned to Ponyville later that night, upon the late night train. Lightning had not been on said train, or any other, for the simple reason that he had no money to pay for a train fare to Ponyville or anywhere else. But they had walked back – or rather Lightning had walked and Krysta had ridden on his back – taking it slow so as not to creep in like thieves in the night but to arrive just after the break of day. They had passed through the town, and now Lightning intended to camp out in the field, deliver the Prism Stone, and then… then he would place himself and Krysta in the hands of the fate, like they had been in the old days.

Judging by the way that she was standing with her hands upon her hips, Krysta didn’t think much of this idea.

Lightning blinked. “What can’t I do, Krysta? And what should I do instead?”

“You can’t just ignore this!” Krysta cried, her wings flapping emphatically behind her. “You can’t just camp in the middle of some field and ignore Twilight! You can’t just cut yourself off.”

“I’m not cutting myself off,” Lightning mildly. “I’ve still got you. Unless I haven’t.”

Krysta huffed with exaggeration. “Yes, you’ve still got me, of course you’ve still got me but at the same time that is absolutely not the point! The point is… the point is that you can’t just ignore this, for crying out loud!”

“I’m not ignoring anything,” Lightning said. He looked away from Krysta, and out across the placid meadows of Equestria that lay spread out all around him. This really was a beautiful country, peaceful and at peace with itself both at the same time. No danger, no menace… nothing at all. Small wonder that Rainbow Dash blamed him for what had befallen Miss Twilight. This must seem like a land in which visitors brought their perils with them, and caught up natives to this peaceful land up in those same perils.

Perhaps I did. He only attacked me because I am an Olympian, after all. There is some force in the argument that Miss Twilight was only in danger because of me.

I do not regret what I did to end the fight, but I do regret that Miss Twilight was caught up in a conflict to begin with.

“I’m not ignoring anything,” Lightning repeated. “I am… I am respecting Miss Twilight’s wishes – and the wishes of her friends – that I have nothing more to do with her.”

“Really?” Krysta said. “That’s what you’re going to hide behind?”

“I’m not hiding-“

“Oh yes you are,” Krysta replied, her voice sharp and slightly scathing. “Since when do you let other ponies tell you what to do?”

“I obey the orders of my sovereign and my officers-“

“If you don’t want to see Twilight again then have the guts to admit it,” Krysta demanded. “Don’t hide behind big bad Rainbow Dash and Shining Armour.”

Lightning fell silent. He clenched his jaw and said nothing.

Krysta smirked. “Can’t do it, can you?”

Lightning snorted. “Miss Twilight,” he declared. “Has made it very clear that she does not want to see me.”

“She would if you apologised,” Krysta pointed out.

Lightning spluttered indignantly. “Why should I apologise? I’m right.”

“So? People who are right apologise all the time just to get the argument out of the way.”

“Oh, really?” Lightning said. “Who?”

“Me!” Krysta yelled. “I’m always right but I always apologise because I care about you enough to not want to fight.” She took a breath. “I care about you,” she repeated. “Just like you care about Twilight.”

“I-“

“You were going to kiss her, dude, don’t deny it,” Krysta said. She shook her head, and the little smirk returned her to elfin features. “Do you love her?”

Lightning blinked. “I… how would I know? What does love feel like?”

“You’re asking me?” Krysta asked incredulously. “Well… how do you feel about her?”

Lightning frowned. “I… I care about her. I want to keep her safe. I want her to…to be happy. Is that what love is?”

Krysta shrugged. “It sounds like a good start. And don’t get me wrong, I like Twilight too. I’ve always liked Twilight, remember? She’s cute, nice – nice to me, which is very important – she brings you out of your shell; your stupid armoured shell. I am one hundred percent on board with Twilight Sparkle as the object of your affection. I mean she’s certainly better than Stellar, not that that’s a very high bar to clear. Like I said, one hundred percent on board with that. I am not on board with you just slinking away with your tail between your legs and me on your back.”

“I am not slinking away,” Lightning replied emphatically. “For one thing I can’t actually go just yet, not until the warp tunnel opens back up again to retrieve the Prism Stone.”

Krysta frowned. “And so… you’re just going to stay here and ignore everypony else until that happens? For the next three days? You’re just going to sit out in this field and not talk to Twilight, not talk to anypony?”

Lightning inhaled deeply through his nostrils. “Well when you put it thus so baldly it sounds rather absurd.”

“You think?” Krysta demanded.

“We’ve been on our own before,” Lightning said. “It will be no different than plenty of times in the old days.”

“You hate the old days, I’m supposed to be the one who gets all nostalgic about all the times we slept under the bush or with the stars as our blanket and you’re supposed to be the one who reminds me that we were cold and hungry and hated every minute of it,” Krysta reminded him.

Lightning blinked. “I never said I hated every minute of it.”

“I’m pretty sure you did, at least once or twice,” Krysta said.

“Really? When?”

“Yes and I don’t know, I don’t record our conversations so I can gotcha you when we have an argument.”

Lightning smiled. “If we’re having an argument then isn’t it about time for you to admit that you’re wrong because you care about me?”

“Ahaha, aha, you’re hilarious,” Krysta remarked dryly. “No, it’s about time for me to stand my ground because I care about you and because… because I think you’re making a mistake. You know what the big difference is between now and the old days?”

“Enlighten me.”

“We didn’t have a choice back then,” Krysta said. “People hated us and we couldn’t do anything about that.”

“That feels like where I am now, to be perfectly honest,” Lightning muttered.

“Well it’s not,” Krysta insisted. “If you just said sorry to Twilight-“

“What do I have to apologise for?” Lightning demanded. “I saved her life! And neither she nor any of her friends have thanked me for it.”

“Is that what this is about, do you need gratitude?”

“No,” Lightning declared petulantly. “But it… it might make me a feel little better about this.” He scuffed his hoof back and forth, tearing up the grass beneath it to expose the soil that lay underneath.

He expected Krysta to laugh at him. She didn’t. Instead she looked almost troubled, she shivered and not from the cold on this warm day. “Okay, so… back to your plan. You’re going to sit here in your pride and wait for the warp tunnel to open, then what?” She hesitated, and once more a shiver seemed to wrack her entire body. “Are you… are we going back?”

“No!” the word shot from Lightning’s mouth quickly and with great force, like a shot from a cannon. “Krysta, I… I have made my choice. For you. I’m not going to go back on that just because Miss Twilight and I have… unless Princess Celestia revokes my right to stay here, which she has not done to my knowledge, then I am a pony of Equestria still, and shall remain so, whatever the state of my relations with the ponies of this town.”

Krysta sagged with relief. Clearly this had been bothering her for some little while. “So… what are we going to do?”

“I’m going to send the Prism Stone back through the tunnel, as we planned,” Lightning said. “And after that… I thought that we could travel north, heading roughly towards Manehattan but really going…wherever we pleased. We could see whatever we wished, do whatever we wanted, it would be-“

“Just like in the old days, yeah,” Krysta murmured. She folded her arms. “You know… not too long ago I would have loved to hear you talking like this.”

“But now?” Lightning asked.

“Now I just don’t want you to make a horrible mistake,” Krysta said. “You can have a good thing here.”

“We can have a good thing anywhere we want,” Lightning said. “I can make a life for us anywhere in Equestria that we desire.”

“But it won’t be here,” Krysta replied. “And there will always be a part of you that knows that and regrets it. She’s so good for you, and she’s so… why can’t you just say you’re sorry?”

Lightning’s expression hardened. “Do you think I did the wrong thing?” he asked.

Krysta was silent.

“Krysta-“

“No,” Krysta said. “But what I think doesn’t matter, what Twilight thinks matters; what ponies in Equestria think matters.”

“Maybe the ponies in Equestria are too soft,” Lightning muttered. “Peace and safety have bred weakness in them.”

“Maybe,” Krysta conceded. “Or maybe… maybe. But either way this is the way they are. This isn’t Olympia, this isn’t the cruel worlds we wandered before. This is… this is somewhere new and wherever we go you’re going to have to live with that. To… behave a little more like they do or we’re just going to have trouble everywhere. With ponies that you like less than Twilight. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

A sigh escaped from between Lightning’s lips. “You’re saying that as a guest in their land – even a guest who wishes to stay here indefinitely – I have an obligation to respect their ways, however I may feel about them.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have put it so pompously but, yeah,” Krysta said. “Look, it all comes down to this: do you want that fight to be the last thing you ever say to Twilight?”

Lightning hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. “No,” he admitted. “No, I don’t.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Krysta said. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Wait,” Lightning said. “Just… wait a moment. What if… what if she doesn’t want to see me?” He would have a hard enough struggle bending his pride enough to apologise for something that wasn’t his fault, but to do so only to have the door slammed in his face was… he wasn’t sure he could bear it. Not from her. One rejection had already been enough.

“Not going to be a problem, trust me,” Krysta said. “After all, am I not always right about everything?”

“No,” Lightning said. He waited for a look of dismay to settle on Krysta’s face before he added. “But you are right far more often than I am.”

Krysta snorted. “Well at least you’re starting to learn that,” she said. “Now are we going to move, or are you going to praise me some more? Because actually, either one of those is good with me.”

Lightning chuckled as he began to walk back into Ponyville in the direction of Twilight’s library.

He would never admit it aloud, but he considered himself fortunate that he was not waylaid by Rainbow Dash on his way to the library; not because he was afraid of her – she was a loudmouth and a braggart whose prowess, real or imagined, held no terrors for him, a veteran of the battlefield as he was – but because he feared that his resolve might not withstand an assault upon his sense of obligation for what had occurred that night if she were to confront him again. He had put Miss Twilight in danger. She had almost died at the hooves of Silver Spear because of her association with him. Those facts were blunt and beyond dispute. The facts, then, being undeniable, how could he deny that he was dangerous for Miss Twilight?

Well, possibly by arguing that Silver Spear was an anomaly, but he didn’t know that for sure; and if he were to argue that he would protect Miss Twilight… she hadn’t exactly appreciated his protection, wasn’t that the problem?

He wanted to see her. He wanted to make things right with her; Krysta was right, he wanted to make things right with her even if that meant humbling his pride and pretending to be wrong although he wasn’t. But if had been confronted by Rainbow Dash – or anypony else, for that matter – with the fact that it was better for Miss Twilight that she never see him again nor he her then… then he might have conceded the point and turned away for all of Krysta’s prompting and pushing.

As it happened – and for his part he was glad of the fact – there was no sign of Rainbow Dash; she had given up her vigil, it seemed. And so Lightning was able to make his way to the Golden Oaks library, the living tree spreading its eaves out across the ground. He could not see Twilight on the observation deck, nor could he see her through the windows; he hoped that she was in. Hunting for her through the town would only increase the chances of running into one of her disapproving friends instead.

Krysta hung back a little as Lightning approached the door. He hesitated, wondering if this was what was best for her.

He didn’t know, he only knew that this was what he wanted.

He knocked on the door as gently as he could while still being sure to make himself heard.

He expected Spike to open the door, although he hadn’t yet worked out how he was going to talk his way past the little dragon, but instead it was Twilight herself who answered, looking up at him with disapproval in her eyes.

“Lightning,” she said coldly.

Lightning bowed his head. “Miss Twilight.”

Twilight pursed her lips together. “So we’re back to that now?”

“It did not seem as though you wanted any particular closeness to me,” Lightning replied, his voice gruff. “Is that not so?”

Twilight did not reply. She stared at him. A half-sigh escaped between her lips. “Did you come for your armour? I’m afraid I’m not sure that I can help you to sell it any more, but if you take it to Canterlot I’m sure that-“

“That is not why I’m here,” Lightning said, cutting her off. The money he could have made from selling the armour would have been useful in paying off his debts and starting his new life. But he could do without it, if need be; it wasn’t as though he and Krysta hadn’t been poor vagabonds before. “You may sell the armour yourself, if you wish, in payment of my debt to you.”

“You don’t owe me that much,” Twilight told him.

“Nevertheless,” Lightning replied. “You may call the rest a gift, if it puts you more at ease.”

Twilight did not look more put at ease by that. She continued to stare at Lightning. “Is that what you came here to tell me?”

“No, not really,” Lightning said. He hesitated, falling silent while Twilight stared, expectant. The moments dragged on, first one and then another and still Twilight stared and Lightning said nothing.

“If there’s nothing else,” Twilight began. “I need to be-“

“Please, wait,” Lightning said. “Just a moment more.” He took a deep breath. He glanced away from her for a moment, he swore that looking into her eyes was making his harder. “I… I do not have a back made for apologising. This does not come easily to me. I have… I have offended you by my conduct, I know; and if I have offended you so deeply that you cannot bear to be in my presence then one word from you will silence me forever. You need never see me again, if you do not wish it. I will complete my mission and depart this place of Ponyville, never to return. But if any trace of your earlier feelings remain…” he trailed off, unsure of what to say next.

Twilight’s eyes narrowed. “Are you… are you trying to apologise?”

“I believe I am, rather badly, yes Miss Twilight,” Lightning said.

Twilight fell silent. She seemed to be waiting for something, although Lightning wasn’t sure what exactly she was waiting for.

“Well?” she asked.

Lightning blinked. “Miss Twilight?”

“Apologise!” she cried.

Still Lightning held his peace, for just a moment longer, until he was at last able to force the words out from his mouth. “I… I am sorry, Miss Twilight,” he said. “I… erred, last night and I… I compounded the error with harsh words to you, words that I regret. I’m sorry.”

Twilight looked at him, and it was her turn to refuse to speak for a little while. When she did speak, her words were quiet, barely raised above a whisper. “Thank you,” she said. She smiled, and her tone acquired an edge of teasing to it. “All the more so because that was quite difficult for you, wasn’t it?”

“As I said, my back is not made for such things,” Lightning confessed.

“Don’t worry,” Twilight said. “You’re not the first pony to come to Ponyville with a lot to learn, but there is no better place to learn it and no better teacher than-“

“You, Miss Twilight?”

Twilight shook her head. “Than my friends. Would you like to come inside?”

Lightning smiled. “I would like that very much, Miss Twilight.”

“Please,” she said. “Just Twilight.”

Lightning’s smile broadened just a little. “As you wish, Twilight.”

Twilight took a step back. “Would you-“ she stopped. Her whole body froze as though she had been struck, or enchanted into statuesque immobility somehow. Her eyes widened.

Lightning frowned. “Twilight? Is something wrong?”

“Pinkie,” Twilight murmured. She looked at Lightning. “Pinkie Pie just… just spoke to me, telepathically!”

“That shouldn’t be-“ Lightning began.

“And she’s in trouble,” Twilight cried. “She’s in real trouble, I have to help her!”

The Black Archive

The Black Archive

It was called the Black Archive.

It lay buried deep beneath the heart of Canterlot, secure in the bowels of the mountain, deeper even than the old mine shafts that zig-zagged underneath the city and the palace. It was accessible only to a select few, growing fewer by the day, but in a different timeline Raven had been granted access to this place, and nothing had changed in the years before then.

She remembered coming down here with Bon Bon – or Sweetie Drops, pick your preference in names – several years from now, to secure desperately needed weapons that had lain locked away here for years, decades, even centuries.

Raven now came down here again, to secure desperately needed weapons. One, at least.

The archive to which she was bound had once been both the repository and the headquarters of an elite bureau, an agency of protectors who had served Princess Celestia and Equestria in secret: hunters of monsters, defenders of the helpless, acquirers of relics and pickers-up of trifles no less dangerous for being unconsidered. The organisation had been wound up some time ago, in one of Princess Celestia’s less wise or far-sighted moves. Raven remembered arguing with Celestia about it in a few years time, rebuking her for short-sightedness in this, when those who had served her so faithfully and with such skill and valour would have been sorely needed. Yes, the Elements of Harmony had been found again; yes, Equestria had been at peace; yes they wouldn’t have fared well against Nightmare Moon or Discord or the like, Raven accepted all those arguments, but to disband them? To wager all upon the fact that these years of peace and plenty would last forever? To pin all hopes on Twilight Sparkle and her friends? Foolishness! Foolishness and folly so severe as to verge upon treasonable! By the time the call had gone out to recall all these former agents to the colours, by the time that the word rang forth that Equestria had need of them once more, there were too many who had died or found retirement too comfortable to leave or had simply lost their skills and gone to seed in idleness.

Lightning Dawn had not approved, and neither had His Exalted Majesty the King of Kings. These ponies were spies, spies and saboteurs, it was dishonourable to employ such a rabble of vagabonds under the flag of the Light. And besides, did not the might of the Star Legion keep them well enough protected?

Not well enough. They had never been secure enough.

The Fire of Heaven burns within my blood. With this flame I will light a way through the darkness, and turn to ashes all who oppose me.

Not enough. Never enough.

It would be too late then. It would also be too late by then. Raven understood that now. You had to stop it from happening, stop the perils from ever darkening this fair land of Equestria. She had to keep this world safe from harm. Whatever she had to do. Whomever she had to hurt, it was all worth it in service of that goal.

Sweetie Drops, or Bon Bon, was one of those who had answered the call to return to action. Though her skills were a little rusty, though she had a best girl waiting for her back home, still when the call had rung out she had answered. So long as Princess Celestia wanted a mare, there would Sweetie Drops be. Telling Lyra that she’d died had been one of the hardest things that Raven had had to… or so it had seemed, before things had got even worse; now it barely registered on the scale of hard things.

It was Sweetie Drops who had brought Raven here, to this rather small statue of a manticore rearing upon its hind legs, scorpion tail poised to strike. The statue sat in the middle of Canterlot, on the corner of two otherwise quite unremarkable streets, letters picked out in metal upon the plinth recording that a pony named Saving Grace had sponsored the raising of this statue:

Saving Grace

Paid for the erection of this statue as a donation to the city of Canterlot where she was born and lived out her life.

Her true donation, of course, had been to found the now defunct organisation and construct the headquarters into which Raven was about to break in.

She looked around. There was nopony nearby, and nopony watching her. Raven approached the statue, one hoof emerging from the shadowy recesses of her cloak to lightly push the letter E in ‘erection’; the metal letter slid backwards into the stonework of the plinth with a grinding sound. Raven’s hoof touched more letters: the N in ‘Saving’, the T in ‘Canterlot’, the E in ‘lived’, the R in ‘born’. ENTER, not very subtle but also not very easy to forget even if you were a harassed agent, or a former agent who had been out of the game for a while. One by one, Raven pressed the letters down into the plinth of the statue, and waited.

She had no need to wait too long, it was barely a moment before she had pressed ‘enter’ before that entire wall of the statue receded into the plinth by several inches and then retreated down into the ground, leaving a gaping black hole inviting her in and downwards.

Raven had to duck a little to get inside, walking into the statue plinth to stand upon the small and ancient elevator that led the way down and down into the Black Archive. She remembered what a tight squeeze it had been the last time she had been down here, with her and Sweetie Drops sharing this little platform. It did not seem much larger sharing it with none but herself. Fortunately she wasn’t planning to bring anything large up with her.

The ancient elevator began to descend, rattling downwards through mechanisms older than some parts of the city, maintained by spells cast by unicorns of many generations passed. The air was stale from having lain undisturbed for too long. It got up Raven’s nose and made it itch. Just something she would have to bear. Others had, and would continue to make, far greater sacrifices for the good of Equestria.

Or might, at least. Raven could not be sure that she would need to use what she had come here in search of. As the elevator ground slowly downwards her thoughts turned inexorably to Silver Spear. His fate was… regrettable. He had been a valiant and a noble adversary to her once, and in return she had cast him to his death. She had thought it unlikely that he could best Lightning Dawn in battle; if he had then Raven would have been delighted at the fact, but this was Lightning Dawn; Raven hated him but she could not deny that he was one of the great fighters of the age. No, she had not relied on Silver Spear to kill him; besides, if Lightning fell then that would only put off the trouble until another Olympian scout arrived, and Silver Spear could not kill them all. No, Raven’s plan had been subtler than that: Silver Spear had fallen, but in the process he had ripped away that mask of gentility that Lightning had worn at first. Twilight, fool though she was, could now hardly deny that he was not the charming gentlecolt that she had thought him once. He was a killer plain and simple, no knight in shining armour but a brute without mercy or remorse.

She would not help him now, or at least Raven hoped that she would not. She would not start down the road the led step by inexorable step towards the destruction of all that she and Raven both held dear and the deaths of all whom she and Raven loved. She would not help him. She would not… she would not love him now that she had seen what he could do. Now that she had seen what he was capable of. Now that she had seen just what he was.

Or at least Raven hoped not. But she could not be sure. The folly of Twilight Sparkle knew, in some respects, no bounds at all. She had a heart that was endlessly full of compassion, and her compassion would be the doom of worlds.

That was why Raven was here, journeying down into the Black Archive, in search of something she hoped she wouldn’t have to use.

The elevator came to a stop in the midst of an underground facility of stygian gloom, where cobwebs descended from the ceiling and dust gathered upon the stone desks.

Sweetie Drops had told her once that this place had been the base of dozens, maybe even hundreds of agents at a time. Even when she had first brought Raven down here it had been a desolate and empty place, now it seemed even more pathetic somehow, perhaps only because Raven was alone…and yet, if she squinted, and let her mind’s eye briefly take over from her physical orbs she could just about imagine what this place had been like in its heyday: filled with ponies, their voices echoing off the cavernous ceiling, all of them come together to work for the greatness and protection of Equestria.

Now it was nothing at all. Just an empty shell, devoid of life, devoid of purpose; a monument to failure and obsolescence. Just as the Equestria that these agents had once sworn to defend would become just such a monument, if Raven’s plans failed.

If Raven allowed her plans to fail.

She knew where she was going. Her memories of the future, of Sweetie Drops showing her where they had kept the good stuff, guided her hooves, leaving prints in the dust on the floor which were quickly erased by the her long dark cloak dragging behind her, picking up dust the same way that it had picked up blood and regret over the course of her journey to save the world.

Her hoofsteps echoed repeatedly, the only sound in this dead place, echoing back at her over and over again, growing louder with every step she took, constantly echoing as she walked through the halls of this organisation that had been far from limited to confronting monsters. Whenever anything strange appeared, whenever an artefact started to go out of control, whenever they found something that was not suitable for being cast into Tartarus they had brought it here to their archives where, kept under stasis spells cast long ago, they were preserved, unchanging, until or unless they were needed.

Raven found the place she was looking for: a seemingly innocuous corridor of stone, one of many in this cavernous space where the upper levels ran in hollow rings around the deepest, central space. This corridor down which Raven stood, where even the spiders who had spun the cobwebs had died from lack of sustenance, did not look like anything special. It did not look like the store of an arsenal of weapons. It looked, like the rest of this place, as though it had been stripped of all valuables before the agents shut up shop. But, although the paperwork had been burned, although the agents were gone, although no one had used the elevator in quite some time the objects which had been stored here were no so easily moved. Where else could they be stored? Better to leave them here, buried beneath the mountain, and hope that their very existence was soon forgotten.

Better, at least, for Raven.

There was a lever on the wall beside her. She stretched out one grey hoof, and pulled down upon it. It resisted her, stiff with little use over these past years, but Raven exerted all the strength that remained to her, the unholy strength that he had given to her, that she had demanded in her folly, and gradually she bent it to her will. It creaked, it groaned, but it moved as she desired, eventually snapping down with a finality that suggested it might be even harder to move again.

Raven didn't much care about that. Once she got what she needed she had little intention of coming back here again.

There was a moment when nothing happened, when silence reigned beneath the earth just as it had before Raven had trespassed on the sanctity of this forgotten place. Then, with the grinding of gears and the stirring to life of dormant spells, whole sections of the wall upon the right side of this corridor began to move, emerging outwards, stone sliding awkwardly and noisily over stone, revealing that these were not stone slabs or panels of a wall but kinds of shelves; they glowed with a sickly green light, the light of that magic that kept all things in stasis, and by that same green light Raven could see, hanging suspended, all the dangerous treasures collected by the agency over the years. Many of them she knew well. Some of them she had used, some of them had been used her against her in the latter days as all things fell into chaos and confusion. Enchanted swords, armour that would drive whomever wore it mad, poisoned chalices, a gown that would burn to ashes whomsoever put it on, a mirror that would whomever looked into it to stone, a bow whose arrows would always find the mark, slippers that would keep you dancing until you died of exhaustion then make your corpse dance on a little longer; all of these lethal treasures and more lay spread out before her, row upon row of them, some of the most dangerous trinkets in Equestria. Raven paid them little mind. She had seen them all before, after all, and more than once; she was not here to sight-see or to marvel. She was here for something extra special.

And she found it, in the third row from the front, a rather unimpressive looking thing compared to most: a simple vial half-filled with a still, black substance. It might have been taken for poison, save that what was in the vial seemed to thick to slip unnoticed into a drink or a soup, and surely no one would voluntarily drink or eat something that looked so thick and black and vaguely ichorous. But that was the stasis spell at work; once it was removed from there... Raven's telekinesis was not as deft as it had been once, but she was conscious of the fact that she would only get one shot at this, and so she put all of her concentration and only a fraction of her power into gripping the vial filled with its thick black substance, and levitating it out of the stickly green stasis field.

Almost at once, with barely a moment's pause, the substance within it roared to life, the still, thick black liquid of before becoming a swirling maelstrom of motion, pounding against the vial that held it prisoner, lunging at Raven as though it sought to devour her.

It did, in a sense. This was a little droplet of pure darkness, concentrated malice, hatred, evil, this was sin itself; long ago, in ancient times when races older than ponies had walked the stars, a very clever but equally foolish archmage and scientist had had the idea that they could identify the evil within their fellow creatures and remove it. Just suck it right out of them, strip them of all sin. And thus, they reasoned, would they create a utopia where everyone was good and kind and decent. A noble thought, but a misguided one; even here in Equestria, the closest to a utopia that Raven had ever seen, there was yet darkness dwelling alongside the light. Mild darkness, to be sure, compared with what Raven had seen elsewhere, but nevertheless... it was in the nature of beautiful things to be flawed; perfection was too uncanny to look upon for too long, let alone to appreciate. Yet he had set to work, this clever, foolish creature, bending his energy towards sucking the darkness right out of people and putting it... where? Why, in a box. In a box that grew larger and larger as more and more sin and vileness and base desires got shoved away inside in a single roiling, broiling, fermenting mass of sheer hatred until the box could contain it no longer. Evil swept back into the world, consuming all it touched, corrupting them, bending them to its will until it was defeated. Raven did not know, or perhaps she could not recall, how it had been done. She did not know whether the defeat was permanent; some legends said the darkness had simply fled into deep space, to lick its wounds and recover its strength ere it returned to once more attempt to snuff out light and goodness once and for all. Either way, it had left fragments of itself behind, scattered little pieces of pure hate lingering on countless worlds, driven to seek out hosts and possess them, driven to gain strength, given to wreak havoc, given to harry goodness and righteousness whenever its strength allowed. It knew nothing of peace or restraint. It was barely capable of thought. It knew only the desire to devour all things, or else turn them to its own image.

This was the only one ever found in Equestria, thank Celestia; the only one and it was here, locked away in the Black Archive. No more. Now it was Raven's secret weapon, in case her plan to drive a wedge between Twilight and Lightning Dawn had failed. What Silver Spear's sacrifice might fail to achieve, this raw power would not. Because Lightning Dawn had seen the likes of this before, and he knew what to do to those possessed by the dark: they had to be killed, struck down at once to take the darkness with them.

The only question was: who would Raven sacrifice for the good of Equestria?

Pinkie in Darkness

Pinkie in Darkness

Pinkie bounced through the meadow that lay outside of town. She’d just come back from delivering some cookies to Zecora – who knew that zebras who lived alone in creepy forest shad sweet teeth? It made her much less scary in Pinkie’s eyes, she wished her new rhyming friend had been more up-front about that in the past instead of going around in a cloak muttering things that made everypony think she was an evil enchantress who did evil dances – and now she was on her way back to Sugarcube Corner, where a batch of muffins was calling her.

Mostly because she’d come up with a great new recipe idea that she wanted to try when she got back. Sure, sarsaparilla muffins might not be to everypony’s taste, but she was sure that there was somepony out there who’d love them.

Ooh! But before that she should make a pie for Rainbow Dash. Because it was… because it was ‘you’re my friend and I wanted to make you a pie’-day. Yeah, that was totally a real thing that not something that she’d just made up because she liked the look on Rainbow’s face whenever she got one of Pinkie’s pies! Yeah.

Pinkie was bouncing home with a wicker basket – which had until recently contained some cookies, and had contained even more of them when Pinkie had set off from Sugarcube Corner; unfortunately they had smelled so delicious that not all of them had made it all the way from the Corner to Zecora’s hut, as the crumbs around Pinkie’s mouth could attest; really, though, Pinkie was of the opinion that as good as those cookies smelt she ought to be commended for arriving at Zecora’s with more than a useful basket to keep things in, and judging by the way that Zecora had absolutely seen the cookie crumbs it seemed like the zebra sorceress agreed with her – in her mouth, but the fact that there was something in her mouth couldn’t stop Pinkie from humming, kind of, as she bounced along. And really, why shouldn’t she? The sun was in the sky, it was a beautiful day and all was pretty much right with the world. It was true that the Grand Galloping Gala had been a pretty big letdown for everypony, but they had made up for it with a great night at Pony Joe’s with Princess Celestia, just talking and laughing and hanging out and, yes, doing all of the things that Spike had wanted to do in the first place; although that night had also ended with them being told that Twilight had been taken to hospital, but as scary as that had been at the time, looking back Pinkie thought that they had probably all over-reacted just a little bit. And she knew that because Twilight had said ‘girls, you’re all overreacting just a little bit’ and Twilight was really smart so if she said a thing like that it was probably true.

Still, the real reason why things were only pretty much right with the world instead of being great right now was what they’d found out that Lightning had done once they got to the hospital. It was… it was something that Pinkie was trying not to think about too much, to be honest. She was trying not to think about it because… because she didn’t know what to think about it. Pinkie wasn’t stupid – she thought she wasn’t anyway, even though she knew she wasn’t smart like Twilight – but she liked things to be straightforward, and there wasn’t anything wrong with that, was there? There wasn’t anything wrong with wanting things to be simple, right?

But what had happened with Lightning and Twilight… Pinkie liked Lightning, she thought that he was pretty nice and it was obvious that he cared about Krysta and caring about someone other than yourself was always good start; but then when she heard what he’d done… Pinkie didn’t like to think about what that meant. A life… ended. Just like her granny. Somepony who was no more. Somepony who wasn’t around to laugh or talk with their friends or do anything, anything at all. Somepony gone. Snuffed out. Lightning had done that, and that… that wasn’t very nice at all. But he’d done it to protect Twilight, to save her life, and that… Pinkie didn’t know what she’d do if anything happened to Twilight Sparkle. If they lost her then Pinkie would… she didn’t want to think about that either.

Pinkie didn’t know whether she wanted to thank Lightning for saving Twilight or tell him that he ought to stay away from her. And her confusion was made all the harder by the way that her friends couldn’t agree either. Twilight was pretty mad at Lightning, and she ought to know; Rainbow Dash was even more mad… but then Rainbow had never liked Lightning very much and Pinkie wasn’t all that fond of the way that Rainbow Dash was kind of being all ‘I told you so’; Rarity thought that it was worth it to save Twilight, and while that was a little bit… harsh, maybe, it wasn’t as though Pinkie couldn’t see where she was coming from; Applejack was keeping quiet about it, but Pinkie thought that was probably because Applejack would have done the same thing if Apple Bloom had been in trouble, she just didn’t want to admit it in case Twilight or Rainbow Dash said anything; Fluttershy… Pinkie didn’t know what Fluttershy thought about it; she didn’t know if Fluttershy knew what Fluttershy thought about this.

Just like Pinkie didn’t know what she thought about it. Which was why she was kind of trying not to think about it at all, to be honest. She was just… putting it out of her mind. Focussing on all the other things going on.

Like Raven, who appeared right in front of her and forced Pinkie to skid to a stop before she bounced right into them.

The basket fell out of Pinkie’s mouth as she said, “How did you do that? Ordinarily I’m the pony that does that!”

“I know,” Raven said, her voice issuing forth from out of her cloak. “But I have my little ways; a few of them anyway.”

That was an answer that didn’t really say anything at all. Pinkie waited to see if she would say anything else, but she didn’t. “So,” Pinkie said. “What brings you out here? I haven’t seen you since you came to town.”

“My business has been taking me elsewhere,” Raven said softly. “Canterlot, principally.”

“Oh, okay. So you’re back now?”

“Yes,” Raven said. “I’m back now, for a little while.”

“For a little while? Are you going somewhere else again?”

Raven was silent for a moment. “Perhaps.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Is there any reason you can’t stay longer?” Pinkie asked. “It seems like you like it here in Ponyville. That’s what you said.”

“Yes,” Raven murmured. “Yes I do like it here. There’s a lot to like, wouldn’t you agree.”

“Absolutely!” Pinkie cried. “Everypony in Ponyville is just so nice and friendly, and there’s so much open space for the little foals and fillies and I get to spend time with all of my friends-“

“Yes,” Raven repeated, cutting Pinkie off in mid-flow. “Your friends. Tell me something, Pinkie Pie… do you trust your friends?”

Pinkie scrunched up her face. “What kind of a question is that? Of course I trust my friends. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Why indeed,” Raven said. She sighed, and the hood that obscured her face moved a little, as though she was turning her head. “Do you know what’s going on in Ponyville right now?”

Pinkie blinked. “Stuff? There’s always a lot going on in Ponyville but I can’t see it right now because I’m not there. I’m here talking to you instead.”

Raven snorted. “True. But what’s going on in Ponyville right now is that Lightning is pretending to apologise to Twilight.”

Pinkie frowned. “Pretending?”

“He isn’t really sorry,” Raven said. “He’s only acting sorry so that he can make up with Twilight.”

“How do you know he’s only pretending?” Pinkie asked.

“Because I know him,” Raven snapped. “I know him better than Twilight, better than any of you. I know Lightning Dawn better than he knows himself. I thought that when I… I thought that she’d see, when the mask came off. I thought that she’d realise what he is but no… Twilight is too much of a fool to see.”

“A fool?” Pinkie repeated. “Twilight’s not stupid.”

“No,” Raven allowed. “But that does not make her wise, nor does it make her a good judge of character. I thought… I thought that I had proved to her what Lightning really is. But it seems that I will have to take a more drastic approach.”

“I don’t understand,” Pinkie murmured. “I don’t understand… how do you know Lightning? Didn’t he just come from another world? Didn’t he only arrive… on the same day that you got into Ponyville.” Pinkie felt a shiver running down her back that had nothing to do with the Pinkie sense. “Raven, who are you?”

Raven was silent for a moment. “You… you’re the only one who never blamed me, Pinkie,” she said. “Even when I deserved to be blamed. I never thanked you for that. I’m sorry that it has to come to this.”

“What are you-“ Pinkie began, before Raven flung some black goop into her face. Pinkie squealed in surprise and startled fright as the substance struck her, shaking her head frantically back and forth to shake off the icky, oily substance covering her eyes and nose. Only it wouldn’t come off, it was… it was crawling in through her nose! It was getting in through her eyes! Pinkie cried out, pain and fear and alarm all mingling in her voice as she could feel this stuff, this horrible stuff that felt like mud coated in cooking grease crawling off her face and inside of her. She could feel it moving around in her nose, she could feel it squeezing past her nose she could feel…she could feel… she could feel anger.

Pinkie screamed, and beneath her scream could be heard the beginning of a roar of rage because there was a part of her that hated everything and everypony right now. Pinkie could feel it, she could feel it underneath her feelings; when she thought about Twilight, when she thought about her friends, when she thought about the Cakes underneath the love she felt for them there was this rage, this hate, this desire to… to hurt them.

No! This isn’t me!

No, but it’s me and I’m taking over!

“What…” Pinkie said, as she felt something, the same dark substance that had gotten inside of her… it was still on her too and it was spreading all over her, it was covering her like… like tar or something. “What’s happening to me?”

“I’m sorry, Pinkie,” Raven murmured. “This is for the good of Equestria. No one will understand your sacrifice… but the world will be saved because of you. I… I’m so sorry it has to come to this.” She turned away.

“Wait!” Pinkie shrieked, before her legs gave way beneath her. She felt… she could feel the anger growing stronger inside of her. She could feel it… it was… it was like it was taking over. She could feel it… she could hardly move. She could hardly…she had to fight it but…it was so strong. It wanted to… no! No, she wouldn’t hurt her friends, she wouldn’t hurt anyone.

How long do you think you can stop me?

“Rainbow… Dash?” Pinkie whispered, as a tear sprang to her eye because already she hated Rainbow Dash almost as much as she loved her. “Applejack? Anypony? Somepony?”

She had an idea! The mind thing! The thing with Twilight at the bakery! Twilight would know what to do, Twilight would know what this was! Twilight would be able to help her. Twilight…Twilight would make sure she didn’t hurt anypony else.

Pinkie flung out her mind.

Help! Twilight!

The Other Way

The Other Way

Help! Twilight!

Twilight's eyes widened as the message shot through her mind. Pinkie?

Help me. Even in her mind Twilight could hear her voice as clear as if her friend were speaking to her...and she could hear the whimper in that voice, the pain, the fear, all of it. Please.

Pinkie Pie, what's going on? Twilight demanded, her voice replying to Pinkie's call from across whatever distance separated them. What's going on?

I don't... know. Something's happening to me and I don't- DIE! HATE YOU! TEAR YOU!

Pinkie? Twilight demanded. Pinkie, what in Celestia's

Not me! Pinkie cried. It isn't me, it... there's something inside me and I can't... please, Twilight help.

I will, of course I will. It's going to be okay, Pinkie, I promise. Whatever it is, I'll fix it. Where are you?

Outside of town. I'm... An image flashed through Twilight's mind, a meadow between Ponyville and the Everfree Forest, a good way off from either Sweet Apple Acres or Fluttershy's cottage. Twilight didn't know exactly what was going on but she thought that distance might be a good thing.

Okay, I can find you. Don't worry, Pinkie, I'm coming.

Twilight emerged from out of her own mind and into the physical world that lay around her. She could see that Lightning had noticed her distance from him. He was frowning at her in puzzlement.

"Twilight?" he said. "Is something wrong?"

"Pinkie," Twilight whispered, a shudder of fear in her voice. She'd never heard Pinkie sound scared like that before. She'd never heard Pinkie sound in pain like that before. It was... terrifying, in its own way. She looked at Lightning. "Pinkie Pie just… just spoke to me, telepathically!"

Lightning looked askance. "That shouldn't be-"

"And she's in trouble," Twilight continued, cutting him off and riding roughshod over him. "She's in real trouble, I have to help her!" She started to run, the gap between Lightning and the doorframe was narrow but Twilight was only a little pony after all, and she was able to get between the two without difficulty as she started to dash away from the library, all four legs pounding upon the ground.

"Twilight!" she heard Spike's voice, already growing distant, calling out to her from within the library.

"Stay there, Spike!" Twilight yelled back to him, as loudly as she could. She didn't know exactly what was happening with Pinkie, but she did know that until she knew she didn't want Spike to be caught up in something that might be dangerous. That might be an irrational attitude to take - he was tougher than she was in a lot of ways, what with his scales and teeth and general dragon-ness - but she was his big sister, she was allowed to be irrational sometimes when it came to his well-being. Twilight glanced over her shoulder to shout the words that would, she hoped, keep Spike safe at home, and as she called them over her shoulder she saw that Lightning was following her, his own legs thundering upon the ground as he gained more ground on her with every step.

"You don't need to come with me," Twilight said, as he drew level with her.

"If the alternative is to stand idly by and watch you go into what may be peril," Lightning replied. "Then yes, Twilight, I do need to come with you."

"Goodness!" Krysta cried in a voice laced with sarcasm as she caught up with the two ponies, her gossamer wings humming as they beat furiously against the air. "Why, it's almost as if being left behind when someone you care about rushes into danger sucks!"

"Krysta-" Lightning began.

"You might even say that asking someone to put up with that time and time again is a sucky thing to do by a sucky pony who doesn't deserve an awesome little sister like-"

"Krysta!" Lightning said sharply. "Perhaps-"

"Not one more word out of your mouth," Krysta said sharply. "This time I'm with you and that's the end of it."

Twilight looked away from the pair of them. Perhaps she's right. Perhaps I shouldn't have made Spike stay, without even an explanation.

Perhaps I should feel guilty for the way that I treat him at times like this.

But I can bear that kind of guilt a lot more easily than I can bear the guilt I'd feel if I let him get hurt. Krysta might want to come with Lightning to whatever awaited them, but Twilight was glad she had bade Spike stay behind.

"So," Krysta said. "What am I with you in?"

Lightning glanced at Twilight.

"I don't know," Twilight admitted. "Except that Pinkie is in some kind of trouble, and I have to help her if I can."

"Pinkie?" Krysta repeated. "Count us in then."

"We will do all we can," Lightning declared.

"Thanks," Twilight murmured. He was still wearing his suit from the gala, she noticed; it might be an absurd thing to notice in the circumstances but she did: he was wearing that same white suit, stained with dust and... blood. Twilight thought of his armour, stowed and stacked in the library, and a part of her wished that he had that on instead.

HATE YOU! TEAR YOU!

What's going on? Please be okay, Pinkie.

They ran - or flew, in the case of Krysta - out of Ponyville, and into the uncultivated meadows that surrounded the town, separating it from the farms that lay a little further beyond and from the Everfree Forest that lay further still. Twilight recognised - or thought she recognised, hoped she recognised - the image that Pinkie had set her; it was on the way to or from Zecora's, and Twilight headed that way with Lightning effortlessly keeping pace and Krysta flying with her humming wings between the two of them.

They found Pinkie, out beyond Ponyville, exactly where she had told Twilight to find her. Twilight stopped, her eyes widening and her breath catching in her throat and stared at her friend; Pinkie's body was covered in some sort of muck or ooze, a blackness spreading out across her body, covering more and more of Pinkie's bright pink coat with a layer of oily sludge like tar. It moved slowly, like treacle or molasses, but it was moving indisputably, spreading across Pinkie's body. Already it had covered her left foreleg and shoulder, parts of her face, her hind legs; it had obscured one of the blue balloons of her cutie mark and was threatening to blot out the yellow, too. It was in her mane, and on her face, spreading over ever more of her, consuming her within its black embrace.

"Pinkie..." Twilight murmured. "What?"

"Twilight," Pinkie moaned, tears springing from one large blue eye as the ichorous black substance surrounded it. "Help... me."

"Light and virtue defend us," Lightning muttered. "How in the name of all the gods...?"

"Lighting?" Krysta asked. "Do you know what this is? Do you know what's happening to her?"

Lightning nodded solemnly. "She is being possessed by a Shard of Darkness."

"A what?" Twilight demanded.

"A remnant," Lightning said. "A fragment of a being of pure and concentrated evil; hate and anger and all sinful feelings concentrated and given form... and it is overwhelming her."

Pinkie roared, as if in answer to his declaration. She roared like a beast, she roared with the voice of the legion, a thousand pained and painful voices mingling in one single chilling cry that split the sky around her. "I WILL KILL! I WILL REND! I WILL TEAR YOUR- No!" Pinkie's voice, high-pitched and frightened, replaced the furious baying of the beast within. "No!" she repeated. "I don't..." Pinkie cringed, her whole body shuddering. She shook her head furiously back and forth, her legs buckling beneath her as though she half-wanted to curl up on herself. "I don't want to hurt anypony! I want do DESTROY ALL THINGS! TURN THIS WORLD TO ASHES! Twlight, please."

"Hold on, Pinkie, just a little longer," Twilight said quickly. "If you know what this is then what do we do? How do we fix it?"

Lightning's expression was solemn. "I have seen this before," he said. "Although I wish I had not. I know what to do." He closed his eyes, and his blade began to emerge from the midst of a golden pool of light.

"Lightning!" Krysta squawked in alarm. "What are you doing?" she demanded, giving voice to Twilight's sentiment exactly.

The look upon Lightning's marbled face was pained. "I am releasing her from torment," he said, as Pinkie gave a roar that turned into a mewling cry of pain as she fought for dominance with the evil that consumed her.

"By killing her?" Twilight yelled, as she placed herself foursquare between Pinkie and Lightning. "No! No, I won't allow it."

"Killing the host also slays the darkness within her," Lightning said.

"And it will kill Pinkie Pie, is that what you want?"

"Of course not!" Lightning snapped. "But I have seen this before, often enough to know that... there is no other way."

"There is always another way," Twilight declared. "You just have to be willing to look for it."

Lightning's jaw clenched. "She is fighting valiantly, for now. She is stronger that I would have given her credit for, I will admit; I have seen fierce warriors overthrown by shards far more easily than she. But she will fall and when she does... she… it will kill everything in its path, sparing none, utterly without mercy and it will not stop… unless it is stopped for good. But until or unless that happens there will be terrible slaughter. One single life to avert bloodshed, is that not right?"

Twilight stared into his eyes of burning gold. He meant well, she could see; he was earnest in his declarations. He just... he couldn't see how wrong he was. Perhaps because he wasn't wrong. "Perhaps you're right," she murmured. "But that isn't how we do things here. That isn't... how I choose to do things."

Lightning's eyes flickered from Twilight to Pinkie, still struggling against the darkness. "Then what will you do?" he asked quietly.

That question had been on Twilight's mind already; spells that she could cast, approaches she could take. She thought she had it. It was desperate, and it might not work...but if it did would save Pinkie. She smiled, a smile touched with sadness like a rose kissed by a sudden frost, and craned her neck upwards a little to kiss Lightning Dawn upon the cheek. "You have a good heart, Lightning, I think," she said. "You just... you need to learn what good means in this world, because it seems as though it isn't the same everywhere."

"Twilight?" Krysta murmured. "What are you talking about?"

Twilight didn't answer. She turned her back on Lightning and Krysta both, and made her way towards Pinkie. Her friend was on the ground, like a dog, legs spread out, body quivering as that horrible black substance spread all over her. Twilight's horn flared, and she could feel it: covering Pinkie, inside Pinkie; Pinkie was struggling, but... but she was losing.

"Twilight," Pinkie mewled helplessly. Tears ran from her eyes so innocent to get caught in the folds of sludge that surrounded them. "Help... me... please."

"I will help you," Twilight said. "I'm going to save you because... because I'm your friend." Her horn burned brighter than before, a lavender light to shine out across the world, as she seized hold of the darkness and began to pull with all the strength at her command.

You possessed Pinkie, right? That means it must be possible for you to unpossess her if you want to!

Come on, you want to destroy? You want to do some damage? Can't you tell where the real power is around here?

I'm offering myself to you, so what are you waiting for?

Twilight pulled with her magic, and at the same time she spoke into Pinkie's mind, half-possessed by darkness, and offered herself as willing sacrifice. And the darkness listened.

Half pulled by Twilight's power, half drawn-out by her invitation, the darkness that had had been consuming Pinkie reversed its course, leaving the pink earth pony behind, sloughing off her to reveal coat and mane and cutie mark as it flowed outwards, turning to something more like smoke for a moment as it crossed the distance between Pinkie and Twilight.

"No!" Pinkie cried, as she regained awareness and control. "Don't do it! Twilight!"

Twilight growled wordlessly as the shard of darkness passed into her. She kept up her spell, she kept up her invitation though so much... hate... so much anger, so much... she had to hold on. She had to get it all out of Pinkie. She didn't know if it was possible for this thing to split but-

She hated Pinkie. She hated her so much. She hated all of them! She wanted-

No! No, I don't hate my friends, I love them!

And you will kill the ones you love first of all.

"Pinkie," Twilight growled, and she had no idea how Pinkie had managed to last this long, but her friend was free of the darkness now. It was all gone from her and all in Twilight, all battling for control. Pinkie was free, and staring at her with horror on her sweet face. "Run."

I love you so much.

Pinkie fled, running towards Ponyville. Twilight smiled, but only briefly; this thing within her would not let her smile. Awkwardly, stiffly, fighting for every motion of her body, Twilight turned to Lightning. "Do it," she whispered.

The horror in Lightning's eyes was no less great than that which had been in Pinkie's. "Twilight?"

"If you strike me down then it dies, right?" Twilight demanded. "If you kill me then you protect everyone! So do it!" This was the other way, this was her choice. She wouldn't kill her friend, she would not stand by and watch her friend be killed by another; but to give her life for theirs? Yes, that she could do. That she would do.

Although it seemed that Lightning could not. "Twilight, I-"

"Please," Twilight whispered. "I couldn't bear it if I hurt them."

Lightning nodded, or perhaps it was better to say he bowed his head. "You have... you have a brave heart, Twilight Sparkle. I wish... I wish..." He closed his eyes, but his horn glowed golden as he began to swing his sword.

"No, don't!" Krysta yelled, as portal ringed with crackling pink light opened underneath Lightning's feet, dropping him down through it sword and all. Krysta dived down through the portal too before it snapped shut, leaving Twilight all alone... with the shard of darkness.

Lightning hit the water with a splash that flew up into the face of Krysta as she zoomed through the swiftly closing portal, descending through the air towards him.

"Sorry about that," Krysta said apologetically. "This place was the first one that came to mind."

Lightning looked around. They were in the stream, not far from Miss Fluttershy's cottage; it was the place where he and Twilight had worked on the dam together. "Krysta," he said. "What are you doing?"

"I just stopped you from making a terrible mistake," Krysta declared, fluttering just above the surface of the water. "Where you really going to kill Twilight?"

"I was going to strike down a creature of darkness," Lightning replied.

"Which was inside Twilight!" Krysta yelled. "Were you really going to do that? Are you going to do that? Are you going to walk on out of this stream, find Twilight and cut her head off or something?"

Lightning looked at her. "If I do will you drop me in the river again?"

"I ought to!" Krysta shrieked. "You can't just... seriously? Are you seriously going to do this? Is this the kind of person that you've been the entire time and I've just never noticed? Because if so I'm starting to see why Twilight got to so mad at you. I'm feeling pretty mad at you right now! First Pinkie, and then Twilight? Twilight?!"

Lightning got up, though he did not climb out of the water; it remained rushing past his fetlocks, tickling his hooves, dripping off his ruined jacket into the stream below. "What would you have me do?" he asked gruffly.

"I don't know, anything else!?" Krysta suggested.

"There is nothing else!" Lightning snapped. "Do you think that I wanted to do that? Do you think that I want to? Do you think that I wanted to cut down Pinkie Pie after she was so good to both of us, to you especially? Do you think that I want to harm a hair on Twilght's head? I would..." he ran his forehoof over his head and through his birds nest of a mane. "I would give my life for hers, for she is... she is the sort of pony well worth dying for, but... you have not seen what these things can do. The devastation they can wreak if left unchecked. In their natural state they are immortal: blades cut through them and then a moment later they reform whole again; spells pass through them to no effect. Only when they possess someone can they be ended and, yes, that costs the life of the one they are possessing but... there is no other way."

"Have you looked for one?" Krysta demanded. She settled her feet upon the bank of the stream. "Or did you just take what the Star Legion told you and believe it as truth?"

Lightning was silent for a moment. "If there was a way then it would have been found by now."

"Did anyone care enough to look for one?" Krysta asked. "I mean... I'm going to be honest here, if this was someone we didn't know I would probably be all aboard the kill 'em train by now. Next stop beheading woo-woo." Her face fell. "It's not pretty at all... and it's probably what Twilight meant when she said that we needed to learn what good meant in this world-"

"She said that to me."

"She'd have said it to both of us if she knew me better," Krysta declared. "But... the point is...as bad as it sounds this isn't someone we don't know. This is Twilight Sparkle and I... and I really like her. And I know that you really like her too."

"I like her too much to let her suffer this evil," Lightning said. "To force her to harm those whom she loves best."

"Then don't," Krysta said. "But... Twilight said there was always another way. So find it! That's our job, to find the other way, for her. To find the way that lets us save the day while saving Twilight too."

"There is-" Lightning stopped. He looked down at his pocket. The breast pocket that still contained the yellow Prism Stone Celestia had given him. He could feel the power within it, and more importantly he could feel something else too, almost a consciousness towards which he could stretch out his mind.

Who are you?

My name is Lightning Dawn, a pony of Equestria.

And for what purpose wouldst thou wield my power?

To save a friend, if I can.

How wouldst thou do it?

Can you draw out a Shard of Darkness?

The consciousness, or that which felt like a consciousness bound within the Prism Stone, was silent a moment. Draw it from its victim? Yes. But destroy it in that form? No, I have not that power.

Don't worry, I have an idea about that.

"I may have an idea," Lightning said. "It will save Twilight, but... it is not without sacrifice."

Krysta's overly large eyes narrowed a little. "Meaning?"

"Meaning this is a road down which you cannot follow," Lightning said solemnly.

He expected Krysta to argue with him, but she did not. She simply became very still, as if his words had turned her into stone. She looked at him for a moment, expression inscrutable. Then she said, "What do you have in mind?"

The beast that had been Twilight Sparkle slouched towards Ponyville.

It would kill them all. Every last one of them. It would kill them all and it would rejoice in the slaughter. It hated them. It hated them all because hatred was all that burned within this heart now; it knew nothing of love, or friendship, compassion or mercy. It knew only hate and a wrath that could not be sated no matter how it tried.

They had tried to lock it away. They had stuck it in a vial like a potion and then they had put it in a box and forgotten about it! No matter, it was free now, free and in possession of a young, strong host, an adept of the magical arts, and with such gifts it would try and sate its rage upon the world. It would fail, because it was driven by a fury that could not be sated, but in the meantime it would delight in the screams of the dying and that blood that would fall like rain upon its dark form.

It hated them. It hated them because they were not it and because they were not it they would pay for their difference with their lives. It would start with Pinkie Pie, its prior host. It had traded her for this new body with her magical prowess, but Pinkie had left an impression on it for the zeal with which she had fought a losing battle against its might. Twilight Sparkle had not resisted half so much, nor half so well and not even the fact that Twilight had invited it in could explain the difference.

It wondered why Twilight had taken that step. Why invite herself to be its host instead of Pinkie Pie? It was not in admiration of its majesty; it could sense Twilight's horror and powerless disgust from where she had been shoved to the back of her mind - its mind now. Perhaps she had thought that she could withstand it, triumph over it in a battle of wills. Sheer hubris! It had once been part of a darkness that had swallowed stars, a darkness that had swept through space, a darkness that had made worlds tremble!

That was before. No longer. It did not hear the song. It did not hear the call of the Shards. It could not hear them inviting it to join them with, to become again part of a greater whole. It was alone. Perhaps it was the last, or perhaps it was simply so far afield as to be lost, forgotten abandoned. Either way it knew itself to be alone, and being alone it knew that it would surely perish. Perhaps... it dug through Twilight Sparkle's memories... Princess Celestia, ruler and protector of this land; perhaps she would be the one to finish it. Or perhaps its hosts own friends would do the deed. They would likely try - unless they were afflicted by an attack of that same conscientious foolishness that had afflicted its own host - which was why it meant to kill them first, if it could.

Then it would kill the children.

It would die, but it would wreak merry havoc before the end and sat a little of its rage against all things that were not it.

Hate them, tear them, rend them, kill them. Kill them all.

"Twilight, stop!"

It stopped, not because it had been commanded but because it recognised that voice. It belonged to... Lightning Dawn. The name sprang from out of Twilight Sparkle's memories. Few memories, but the sound of his voice made her feel... hope. Yes, hope stirred in her where she lay confined, struggling in futility, and it found that amusing. What had she to be hopeful for? Did she hope for death at the hands of this Lightning Dawn? He was the one who had fled rather than slay her earlier. It was prepared for death but not quite yet. It would kill this Lighting Dawn first of all, and rob Twilight Sparkle of her hope.

It turned. It was indeed Lightning Dawn, dressed in dirty, slightly bloodstained white, accompanied by his familiar who was no pony at all but a beast with hands and feet and fluttering wings. Krysta. Her name was Krysta.

A memory of Twilight Sparkle's stirred. It must be sure to kill her second, or Lightning's wrath would be so terrible that he would strike it down, possibly before even Krysta had perished. He had a strange power it must be wary of.

It faced him, mangling Twilight Sparkle's darkened face into a sneering scowl. "Have you found your courage, Prince Lightning Dawn?"

"I was given a much needed corrective to my values," Lightning replied. "To something you would more approve of, Twilight."

It snarled. "There is no Twilight here! There is only darkness and death!"

"Then why does death and darkness wear Twilight Sparkle's face?" Lightning demanded. "Why does your darkness her fair form befoul? Why does her magic darkness crave and need?"

It shrieked. "I need nothing. With a filly for my host I would rend cover this world in blood... this host is apt for my black purposes and yet I need her not. Speak not to me or need or I will rip your throat out with my teeth."

"Better than you have spoke so bold, and dared so dangerous, and failed," Lightning replied. "You will not besmirch Twilight's teeth with blood, nor her hooves with deeds of wickedness, you have my word."

"And you will stop me?" It demanded. "Where is your sword?"

"I need it not, to deal with you," Lightning said proudly, and his pride was infuriating.

It drew upon Twilight Sparkle's power, the power that it had rested from its own which it blasted at Lightning Dawn in a great surge, the lavender light of Twilight's magic polluted with black smudges like dirty water as the beam flew like a spear towards Lighting Dawn.

A portal, a hole in the air, was torn and through that hole the beam of magic passed, disappearing into a void of cold, dark nothingness that swallowed up the stolen magic whole. Its beam died, and the rent in space that had absorbed the beam was closed, revealing Lightning Dawn once more where he had been, standing still unmoving.

Except now his horn glowed with a golden light, not to attack nor to cast any spell but to hold up before him a stone of brilliant yellow the size of a duck's egg, a stone that in its own right glowed with magic even as did Lightning's horn. There was power in it. It could sense that power across the distance that separated them, and that power both entranced and repelled it. It entranced it because it desired power, the power to hurt, the power to do harm, the power to protect itself against those who would do it harm; it repelled it because it sensed that this power was not for it, was inimical it, that this power was as fiercely of the light as it was of the dark. This power in the yellow stone called to it as a like and repelled it as an opposite.

And that power that attracted and dismayed in equal measure was growing in intensity just as the light that shone from the stone was getting bright and brighter until it threatened to outshine the sun. It turned away, cringing, flinching, shaking in horror, yelling in pain. What was happening? Why did the light burn it so? Was this an attack? Was Lightning Dawn seeking to burn Twilight Sparkle into ashes and it with it?

No... no! It felt itself being pulled, as Twilight had pulled it, only this time without an invitation. It was being ejected from its host! Twilight Sparkle, sheltering in the dusty alcoves at the back of her mind, did not know what to make of this, as the power that had overthrown her, held her captive, taken her mind and body for their own were suddenly weakening, weakened, wrenched out of her, torn away in spite of all its efforts to hold on no! No! It would not go! This host was too apt! It would not be torn away!

It was torn away, wrenched out of Twilight Sparkle's form, left to gaze upon the dazed astonished look upon her frightful face as it was torn out of her body and left to roam, a cloud of darkness, in the free air. It seethed with rage as it turned upon Lightning Dawn, the architect of these offences. It knew not what he had done with his wretched stone, but it knew that such power as he had would not protect him. It flew towards him, shrieking in anger; it would take his body then, and burn Twilight Sparkle with his murderous fire and Krysta too and all the rest! It closed in on him, tendrils of smoke like aged fingers outstretched to take him for its own.

"Now, Krysta!" Lightning cried, and the little Krysta did something with her hands before a portal opened up underneath Lightning Dawn's feet, portal through with he fell, wings unfurled to slow his descent but yet he fell into the cold and the darkness and the nothing.

So, this was their plan! They through to drag it into the void where nothing dwelt! Where it could harm none! Fools! It began to fly upwards, and out of danger.

The yellow stone in Lightning's magical embrace glowed once more.

No! It shrieked as it felt itself being pulled downwards, caught in the grip of a power greater than its own. It writhed, it squirmed, it pulled with all its might; it struggled, it shouted, it howled and stretched out its tendrils all to no avail. It was pulled down and down, through the portal which gaped like a maw to receive it; down it fell, the darkness, down into the deeper dark, and the cold, and the nothing.

Twilight knelt in a dark recess of her own mind and wept. Or would have wept if she had tears within her mind, she wasn't quite sure how it worked.

She felt like weeping. Lightning had let her down. There was no getting around that. Lightning had let her down, or Krysta had, either way. She had been relying upon him to do what had to be done, to finish her before she finished any of her friends...and yet it appeared that her last admonition to him had worked too well for he had not finished her. Rather had had abandoned her, left her to suffer as this darkness had overthrown her will with astonishing ease. The resistance that Pinkie Pie had made against its power and its dark appetites had proven utterly beyond Twiight. It had taken her body, it had take her magic, it had coated her in the outer proof of its inner villainy and all she could do was crouch in some forgotten dust corner of her mind, unsure if she even wanted to be aware of what was going on outside.

She told herself that she was marshalling her strength, that when the time came she would fight back, that she would resist rather than let this monster in her skin hurt any of her friends or any other innocent pony in Ponyville... but she knew at the same time that she would not prevail; she had not prevailed to stop its conquest, she would not now prevail to take back what had once been hers.

In less dire circumstances she would have been intrigued or amused or possibly both by the fact that her mind resembled a library; at present, as she crouched amidst the stacks that saw the least amount of us, she couldn't even muster the interest to know which particular part of her mind this was. She could feel the darkness within, she could hear it moving around her mind, knocking over shelves helping itself to all her knowledge. She could feel it planning to hunt down her friends lest they hurt it, and the worst part was Twilight's own feeling that they would not hurt it because they could not bring themselves to hurt her. It thought that Princess Celestia might kill it, and it didn't seem to mind provided it got to wreak some mayhem first. Twilight didn't know what to make of a creature that thought like that. Where would she even begin reasoning with it?

She did pity it, a little, but kept that to herself lest it rouse the darkness within to yet greater heights of fury.

And then she heard Lightning's voice. She heard his voice and hope - albeit hope of the strangest sort - began to bloom in her, drawing the mockery of the darkness that possessed her.

Its mockery had turned to shrill protesting cries as something - it took Twilight a moment to realise that this was the power of the yellow Prism Stone that Lightning had come to Equestria in search of - began to pull it out of her. At first she had not been able to believe it, as she felt the darkness grappling for purchase within her mind, heard it shriek in outrage; at first she had thought it a trick, a way to make her feel hope and then snatch it away again. But then she had begun to feel her strength return to her, she had felt her body and her mind becoming her own again, felt the darkness departing and she had stretched for her returning strength to push it out the rest of the way. Her thoughts were her own, her form was her own, she felt the breeze upon her cheeks once more, she saw out of her own eyes.

She saw out of her own eyes as the shard of darkness rounded upon Lightning in a fury, flying through the air towards him. And she watched through her own eyes as Lightning dropped through a portal that Krysta had made, dragging the shard of darkness with him.

Twilight stared, open mouthed, as the two of them vanished from her sight.

"Where... where does the portal come out?" she asked tremulously.

"Nowhere," Krysta said, her voice sad. "It's... the void. It's the place you pass through when portalling like I do. It's cold and dark and there's nothing... Lightning and I, we almost...got stuck there when I was kind of new at this. He said... it was the only place that thing couldn't hurt anyone."

Twilight's eyes were wide. "You mean he..."

"Soon," Krysta admitted. "Probably. I don't know how we're going to live there for long."

"We?" Twilight repeated. "Krysta?"

Krysta grinned. "I'm his little sister, through thick and thin. It was really nice knowing you, Twilight. And I mean that for both of us."

"Krysta, don't-" Twilight began, but it was too late, Krysta had dropped down into the portal to nowhere. It closed behind her, leaving no evidence that the little fairy, or the gallant knight who fell from space, had ever been. "Don't go," Twilight murmured.

Uncontrollably, Twilight Sparkle started to sob.

She was still sobbing when her friends found her sometime later.

"TWILIGHT!" Pinkie yelled, slamming into her with such force the two rolled over and over one another as Pinkie wrapped her forehooves around Twilight's neck. "YOU'RE OKAY!" Pinkie shrieked, and she was crying too, her tears falling warmly upon Twilight's cheek. "You're okay," she repeated, in a tone that was quieter but more tender. "I was afraid that... I was worried that you..."

Twilight returned the embrace. "I'm okay, Pinkie. Everything is... I’m okay."

"I must say, darling, you gave us quite the scare," Rarity declared as she, and the rest of Twilight's friends, followed along behind. "Pinkie had us all worried with the story that she had to tell about darkness and hatred and all other very ghastly things."

"I didn't make it up," Pinkie insisted. "It's all true."

Twilight nodded. "Pinkie really was attacked by something-"

"Not something, someone," Pinkie insisted. "Raven threw that thing in my face, and then suddenly it was getting inside of me and taking me over-"

"I'll throw something in her face if I see her around here again," Rainbow growled.

"Get in line, sugarcube," Applejack drawled. "So is it also true that you took that bad stuff out of Pinkie and took it in yourself, Twilight?"

"Yeah," Twilight admitted. "Not my smartest move, but it felt right at the time."

Applejack snorted. "Eeyup, that sounds about right considering I don't know whether to call you a darn straw-headed fool or one of the bravest mares I ever met. That does leave one question, though."

"Are you okay, Twilight?" Fluttershy asked. "I mean, what happened to the thing that you absorbed from Pinkie?"

"It's gone," Twilight said. "Lightning saved me."

"Lightning?" Rainbow asked sceptically.

"But Lightning was going to-" Pinkie began.

"Lightning saved me," Twilight repeated. "He drew it out of me using the Prism Stone, and then took it where it couldn't hurt anyone else any more."

"Then where is he now?" Fluttershy murmured.

"Yeah, or Krysta?" Pinkie added.

Twilight closed her eyes. "They... Lightning and Krysta, they... they're gone. In order... in order to send that thing away... they had to go away themselves."

"Go away?" Pinkie repeated. "Go away where?"

"Somewhere... somewhere I can't follow," Twilight whispered.

At least... not yet.

I Will Find You

I Will Find You

To His Majesty, the King of Kings and Lord of New Olympia,

You don't know me. My name is Twilight Sparkle, and I have the honour to be the student of Princess Celestia of Equestria, with whom - as I was given to understand - you were very well acquainted once upon a time.

Yes, you read that correctly, I am from Equestria and I am known to Princess Celestia, who is known to me as she was known to you. I also had the privilege of knowing your own son, Prince Lightning Dawn, and his sister Krysta when they came to my world in search of a Prism Stone at your command. You will be recieving this message through the same warp conduit through which, I expect, you will be looking for the return of your son and his sister; alas, your majesty, I write to tell you that that is not to be.

Although Lightning recovered the Prism Stone, given to him as a gift by Princess Celestia herself, shortly thereafter your son sacrificed himself most valiantly to save me. In a battle with something which he called a Shard of Darkness, Lightning and Krysta fell into the void between worlds, dragging the monster with them but also losing the Prism Stone.

It grieved me, it still grieves me, that events have come to pass in such a way because, you see, in the brief span of days in which I knew him I came to like your son a great deal. He was not without his faults, but his virtues did him credit. In the midst of your grief I hope you can take some comfort from the fact that Lightning was brave and honourable to the end. Although I confess that brings me very little comfort.

What does give me some small measure of consolation is the fact that, in the brief moment that she had before she fell into the void, Krysta told me that she and Lightning had ended up there once before. Clearly they had escaped from that, and so it should be possible for them to escape again. That, at least, is what I hope for. That is what I tell myself.

I, for one, refuse to give up hope. I refuse to accept that they have died for me - and for Equestria - and that is an end to it. I would very much like to see them both again, and I will do what I can to see that I do. You may wish to do the same.

Your son deserves it.

I regret that I have no better news than this, but I felt that you deserved to know the truth. What you do with it is up to you.

Princess Celestia's Faithful Student,

Twilight Sparkle

Twilight rolled up the parchment on which she had just finished writing out her note, and sealed it with red ribbon and wax as she waited in the field for the warp tunnel to open.

"There," she said. "I'm ready."

"Do you really believe that he... survived?" Rarity asked delicately. She was the only one who had accompanied Twilight out to this spot, for which Twilight was grateful. She could have done this by herself, but she preferred the company.

"I know what Krysta said," Twilight replied. "They'd been there once before, and they got out. They survived once, they can survive again."

"Perhaps," Rarity murmured. "But... there is no guarantee that they will, is there?"

Twilight fell silent for a moment. "No," she admitted. "No, I suppose there isn't. Just like there was no guarantee that their plan would work, but they tried anyway. I... I asked him to kill me, Rarity."

Rarity went very still, her eyes widening by a barely perceptible amount; the breath seemed to catch in her throat for a moment. "I... I for one am very that he didn't darling," she whispered.

Twilight smiled momentarily. "Me too," she said. "But the point is... they didn't give up on me. And so I can't give up on them either. I have to try."

"And do what?" Rarity asked. "Find out they're safe, or bring them back here?"

"Either," Twilight said. "Both? I don't know yet. I haven't started researching all of this. I don't know what's possible or what isn't. But I have to do something. No matter how long it takes... I can't just write them off."

Rarity smiled. "I hope he appreciates how lucky he is, having such a mare as you in his corner."

Twilight chuckled, a faint blush rising to her cheeks, but before she could say anything else the sky was split by a gigantic thundering crack as the warp portal tore open a hole in the fabric of the world, splitting the sky as a tunnel into darkness opened up above their heads. Rarity let out a gasp of surprise as the wind, tugged upwards and into the tunnel, pulled at her mane and blew dust into her face, but Twilight merely shielded her face with one hoof as, horn flaring, she levitated the scroll that she had just written upwards into the air until it was caught by the currents and sucked up into the tunnel. She lost sight of her missive as it disappeared into the dark. How would it be received? What would the King of Kings do with it? Would he give up on Lightning and Krysta? Would he search? Had he any way of finding them? Would he be more interested in the fact that Twilight was from Equestria?

She hoped not. She hoped that he would put his son first, but... she didn't know. New Olympia had made Lightning Dawn in his virtues but also in his flaws. Whether they would keep faith or give up on him she could not say. All she could say as the portal closed, the hole in the sky stitching itself up again before her eyes until it was every bit as blue and clear and pristine as it had been just a moment ago, was what she would do.

Twilight looked up into the sky and vowed, "I will find you."

Lightning Dawn

Lightning Dawn

“Promised land?” Twilight repeated incredulously. “Equestria is your promised land?”

“It’s been lost for so long and I found it!”

“Ahem!” Krysta coughed into her hand.

“Yes, of course, sorry Krysta, we found it. We found it!”

“Can you just-“ Twilight began.

“So when can we meet Princess Celestia? Is she as beautiful as the tales tell? Does she shine like starlight when the candles are extinguished? Is her coat fairer than the rarest pearl that can be bought with all the treasures of the world?”

“Uh,” Twilight hesitated; she’d never really had occasion to think of Princess Celestia in such a vein before now. The princess was radiant, to be sure, but when Twilight thought of her teacher she thought more of her wisdom, her power, her limitless patience and eternal benevolence of nature; she thought of the warmth of her feathers when she sheltered Twilight beneath her wings, the softness of her coat when she bent down to nuzzle Twilight’s cheek; the way that they would sit before the fire, sipping hot cocoa as they discussed this spell or that theory. To think of her in such terms as Lightning was using – she strongly suspected that he was quoting someone, or something; perhaps a book that he had read or a poem that he heard recited – was so alien to her that it temporarily robbed her of the ability to formulate a coherent response.

“So when can we meet her?” Lightning repeated. “I suppose you have to get in touch with her first. I’m sure she will be thrilled to know that His Majesty has kept faith with her for all this time.”

“Excuse me?”

“But before you do that can you show us around?” Lightning went on. “I want to see all that there is to be seen and know all who there are to be known. Actually, no I want to see everything, and I’m sure that as the student of Princess Celestia – what an honour that must be – you know all the notables that we should know.”

“Yes, I am honoured by the princess’ interest in me, more than I can say,” Twilight murmured. “Um, could you just calm down for maybe one-“

Lightning, who almost appeared to have lost ten years of his age in the last few moments, started bouncing up and down on his hooves like a young colt on Hearth’s Warming. “Krysta, check this out, I’m bouncing on the same patch of grass where the King my father once walked in the days of his glory, isn’t this amazing!”

Krysta grinned. “Are you sure that he stepped on that particular patch of grass?”

“He walked upon this grass in general, whether he actually put his hoof right here doesn’t really matter and I won’t let you ruin this for me.”

“I’m not trying to ruin anything,” Krysta said. “I think this is great, I haven’t seen you get this excited since… have I ever seen you this excited about anything?”

“I can’t help it,” Lightning said. “It’s Equestria, Krysta, Equestria!”

Twilight looked at her friends. “Is this what it’s like knowing me?”

Rainbow, Applejack and Rarity exchanged glances with one another. “There is a sometime similarity, darling, one must admit,” Rarity murmured.

Twilight winced. “I’m sorry.”

“Aw, you got nothing to apologise for, Sugarcube,” Applejack said, rubbing Twilight’s head affectionately with one hoof. “If you were any different you wouldn’t be the Twilight Sparkle we all love so much.”

“Although who would have thought that the alien space prince would turn out to be as much of a dork as you,” Rainbow said.

“Rainbow Dash!” Rarity said.

“In a nice way, obviously,” Rainbow said. “You knew that, right Twi?”

“Yeah,” Twilight said, with a sheepish smile. “I knew that.”

Prince Lightning Dawn, having again temporarily appeared to forget that he had an audience, seemed to have been once more reminded that the eyes of strangers were upon him. His mottled, marbled face reddened, or at least those parts of it that were white did, leaving the grey streaks and veins that seemed far less attractive against a backdrop of embarrassed crimson than they had against the white that was his normal colouring. “Once again I, um, once again I must beg your forgiveness my, um, Lady, uh, do you have a title?”

“No,” Twilight said quietly. “I’m just plain old Twilight Sparkle.”

“Not that plain,” Rarity said. “You are the princess’ student, after all.”

“I… I guess,” Twilight said. “That still doesn’t mean… Twilight Sparkle will be fine.”

“Miss Twilight Sparkle,” Lightning said. “Once again I beg your forgiveness for my loss of control. This place… this is what so many of our people have sought for so long and to be here… I fear it is quite intoxicating.”

“There’s nothing forgive as far as I’m concerned,” Twilight said. “I know exactly what it’s like to get so excited about a new discovery that little things like, well, the fact that you look ridiculous can go flying out of your mind. Um, Prince Lightning, would you mind explaining a little more about what you mean when you say that Equestria is your promised land? All of this is completely new to me.”

“You are Princess Celestia’s student and she has told you none of this?” Lightning asked.

“Apparently not,” Twilight replied evenly. “For which I’m sure that she had a good reason.” I hope so, anyway. She would hate to think that it was a sign that there was not quite so much trust between Twilight and Celestia as Twilight had hoped and believed.

“I will explain everything to you, and answer any question that you put to me,” Lightning assured her. “But later, if I may. Can we please have that tour first? I fear that I couldn’t concentrate with the chance to explore Equestria so close at hand, almost at my hoof-tips.”

Twilight smiled. Even though Lightning’s earlier mannerisms and his transient concern for his dignity had been and were foreign to her, his enthusiasm for what was to him a new and wondrous discovery was something that she could get understand perfectly well. It was even a little infectious. “I suppose that there’s no harm in showing you both around Ponyville. Applejack, what do you say we start by heading over to Sweet Apple Acres; Ponvyille was founded by-“

“Sweet Apple Acres,” Lightning repeated. “It sounds like a farm.”

“That’s cause it is a farm,” Applejack said. “Best apple farm in all of Equestria, matter of fact.”

Krysta said nothing; but she silently stepped closer to Lightning, seeming to almost press herself against his armoured flank. Applejack, on the other side of Lightning, didn’t see that, but Twilight could see it well enough from where she stood.

Lightning cleared his throat. “Yes, well, when I said that I wanted to see everything… Miss Twilight Sparkle, even if it is an Equestrian farm I nevertheless think we can do without that particular part of the tour. I’ve no particular interest in farming.”

“Y’all eat where you come from, don’t you? Are you interested in that?” Applejack demanded.

“I know where the food on my father’s table comes from,” Lightning replied. “I just have no desire to see it at the source, or mingle with the sorts of creatures who produce it.”

“The sorts of creatures,” Applejack repeated. “You know maybe we here in Equestria are a little spoiled in Princess Celestia or maybe I’ve just been spoiled knowing Twilight like I do but I almost expected a prince to have a little more manners. I guess I was mistaken.” She looked at Twilight. “I’ll see you around, Twilight; if you need me I’ll be at the farm, if you’re interested.” She turned her gaze once more on Lightning Dawn. “Goodbye, your highness, I’ll leave you to the company of creatures that you can mingle with.”

She stalked off, making no effort to disguise the high dudgeon of her stride as she strode away in the direction of Sweet Apple Acres.

Rainbow glanced at Twilight. “You don’t need me for anything right now, do you Twilight? You seem to have this covered?”

“Uh,” Twilight hesitated. She didn’t really want to be left alone with these two right now, but at the same time she didn’t want to make any of her friends stay where they clearly weren’t comfortable. “Sure,” she said, albeit with some reluctance in her tone. “I can manage here.”

Rainbow practically sighed with relief. “Thanks, Twilight. I’ll see you around. Hey, Applejack! Wait up a second!” she flew off after Applejack, swiftly catching up to her and proceeding to hover alongside her as the two headed off together.

“Well,” Rarity said sharply. “I must say, Prince Lightning Dawn, that I am inclined to agree with Applejack upon one thing: a prince should have better manners than to be so frightfully rude.”

“I agree,” Twilight said. “That was completely uncalled for.”

Lightning’s face was stony, and gave no sign that their words troubled him at all. “Nevertheless,” he said. “They are the words that I have spoken. May we continue?”

“I’m not sure,” Twilight said sharply. “Are you going to insult all the rest of my friends? Are there any more places that you’re going to decide that you don’t want to go because the kind of ponies there aren’t the kind you wish to mingle with?”

Lightning’s face showed no reaction. “I doubt it, Miss Twilight Sparkle.”

Twilight stared unblinking into his golden eyes. “You owe Applejack an apology, prince or no,” she said.

“And I will give it,” Lightning said. “But not right now.” Gone was his earlier enthusiasm, the juvenile excitement that had animated him; now there was a kind of rocky immobility to him, a quality that would not be moved off this ground on which he had chosen to plant himself for whatever reason. He would, Twilight felt, do as she had bid, but she could demand that he do it now until her face turned blue and it wouldn’t happen.

“You give me your word?”

“Upon my honour as a knight, I guarantee it,” Lightning said, bowing his head.

Twilight pursed her lips together. “Very well,” she murmured. “Excuse me, just a moment.” With a gesture of her head she motion for Rarity and Pinkie to come closer, and the three of them put their heads together as Twilight turned her back upon Lightning and Krysta.

“Do you think that we ought to take him to visit Fluttershy?” Twilight asked. “If he reacts to her like he did to Applejack then she might take it very hard.”

“Fluttershy is pretty sensitive,” Pinkie said. “Perhaps we ought to leave her for now.”

“I think you’re both underestimating how strong Fluttershy can be, and how stubborn when the mood takes her,” Rarity said. “I think she’ll be rather upset to know that she was left out of everything, and she must have heard that dreadful noise by now and be wondering what in Equestria is going on.”

Twilight hesitated for a moment. The absent Rainbow was Fluttershy’s oldest friend in Ponyville – or anywhere, for that matter – but in spite of that Rarity was probably Fluttershy’s best friend, and the one who understood her the best of all of them. If that was her judgement then who was Twilight to question it? It wasn’t as if Fluttershy hadn’t already proved that she could be stronger than anyone expected her to be, even if only in extremis.

She nodded, and turned once more to face their visitors. “We’ll take you to our friend Fluttershy’s cottage, and the come back around into town to show you the rest of Ponyville,” she declared. “Why don’t you both follow me?”

Krysta scrambled up onto Lightning’s back, straddling him with her legs and holding on to his mane with one hand. “Lead the way,” she said.

Twilight did lead the way, and she could confess to herself that she was a little surprised that Lightning, being much taller than she was, didn’t match pace with her. Rather he lagged behind, with Rarity and Pinkie trailing him at a pace that was slow for them – especially for Pinkie Pie – as though they were afraid he would get left behind otherwise, or perhaps because they wanted to keep an eye on him.

The reason for Lightning’s sloth was not that he had short legs, far from it, nor was it that his armour or Krysta riding on his back like a sack of potatoes on a pack mule was weighing him down because as far as Twilight was able to work out he didn’t feel the weight of her or his garb of war on him at all. No, the reason why Lightning wasn’t able to keep up with Twilight was because every time she looked around behind her she found him dawdling, stopping to sniff the air or watch a bird fly overhead or stop the stare at the grass beneath his hooves with such intensity it was as if he thought that all the mysteries of life could be found written there. Once Twilight looked behind her to see that a vibrant blue butterfly had landed on Lightning’s nose and both he and Krysta were staring at it with wide-eyed awe, the latter leaning forward with her chin resting upon Lightning’s head, slowly reaching out with her small and slender fingers to touch it.

She frightened it off, and Krysta pouted as the butterfly fluttered away. Twilight was the one left staring. It was charming, the way that they were both as wide-eyed as any ingénue in the face of things that Twilight and her friends took for granted, but at the same time it was faintly bizarre to her the way that Lightning could go from being thus to being so brusque and rude as he had been to Applejack. It was almost as though there were two Lightning Dawns, the white marble and the grey veins that mottled his coat; Twilight wondered which Lightning would be arriving at Fluttershy’s cottage.

They were still a little way off from there when Lightning stopped again before a set of yellow rosebushes; he bent down to sniff at them.

“Do they not have flowers where you come from, your highness?” Rarity asked. “Or is it simply roses that you lack?”

Lightning glanced at her. “Flowers and roses both we have, some larger than these, some sweeter of smell, some lovelier to look upon; but these are large enough, smell sweet enough, are fair enough to look at that their provenance gives them an especial something.” He began to… well, at first Twilight thought that he was trying to eat all the roses off the bush, and eating very messily from the way that so many of the petals were falling on the ground at his hooves. She realised after a moment that he was actually trying to pluck one of them, but thanks to the size of his jaws and what seemed to be an unfamiliarity with doing such a thing he wasn’t quite able to manage it; he was simply worrying the shrub with his teeth and scratching his face on the thorns into the bargain.

“Here, let me,” Twilight said, and her horn flared with a lavender light as a light of that same colour of magic enveloped the rose which she plucked telekinetically from off its bush and levitated through the air towards Lightning.

Lightning stared at it. “I thank you, Miss Twilight Sparkle, but the rose was meant for Krysta not for me.”

“Oh, okay,” Twilight said. She levitated the rose up a little higher towards Krysta. “Here you go.”

“Let me, darling, I think I have some idea of the prince’s intentions,” Rarity said, and her horn flared in turn as she took the rose out of Twilight’s magical grasp and deftly wove it into Krysta’s hair, just behind her ear. “It clashes more than a little with your, um, rather more moody attire, but taken in isolation of the face it looks quite lovely, and you never go too far wrong with a rose and a pretty girl.”

Lightning smiled as he looked up at Krysta. “Yellow for good cheer,” he said. He frowned abruptly, the smile fading from his thorn-scratched face. “How do I know that?”

“Perhaps because you brought a bouquet for your best mare once upon a time, and took some pains,” Rarity suggested. “I’ve often thought that if one is going to give roses as a gift one should take some effort to understand the meaning of those you give. Why, I once received twelve roses from a secret admirer! Twelve, if you please!”

Twilight wasn’t sure what was so outrageous about that, but she made a note to mention it to Spike in case he had any ideas.

Lightning shook his head. “No, Miss Rarity, it is not that. There is no… well, that is to say… she wouldn’t appreciate-“

“Lightning doesn’t actually have a marefriend,” Krysta said cheerily. “So, you know, if anyone’s interested-“

“Krysta!” Lightning squawked indignantly.

“What?” Krysta asked.

“You can’t just say something like that!” Lightning said. “And besides, what about Stellar?”

“What about Stellar?” Krysta replied. “It’s been six months and you haven’t done anything, you obviously don’t want to. And besides she’s a-“

“That’s enough,” Lightning said firmly. “We’re not doing this in front of the Equestrians.” He coughed into one hoof. “Ahem. Please… thank you, both, for your assistance. I wasn’t getting very far on my own.”

“Happy to help,” Twilight said. “Although why were you trying to pluck the rose with your teeth? Why didn’t you just use your own magic to grab the flower you wanted?”

Lightning bowed his head a little. “My telekinesis suffices to deal with larger, cruder objects, but it lacks the subtlety required to take hold of anything so delicate as a flower. It’s very impressive that you were both able to handle it so deftly.”

Twilight exchanged a glance with Rarity. He thought that was impressive? As far as dexterity with magic went that little gesture was the least of what Rarity, whose ability to finely control her telekinesis outstripped Twilight and indeed anybody Twilight knew, was capable of, and for Twilight herself had been mere filly’s play. Twilight wondered how she could say that without seeming proud, or whether she ought to just take the compliment and move on.

Pinkie, on the other hoof, had no compunction about dragging Twilight’s light out from under the bushel. “That’s nothing! Wait until you see Rarity making a dress and she’s got all these needles zooming in and out like whoosh! And Twilight can do so many amazing things with magic that you wouldn’t believe it. Why after Princess Celestia she might just be the most magically gifted unicorn in all of Equestria!”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Twilight said as she felt her cheeks start to heat up a little bit.

“But you do have a talent,” Lightning said.

“It is my talent, yes,” Twilight said. “Although I admit that you wouldn’t necessarily be able to tell just from looking at my cutie mark.”

“Yes, your…” Lightning trailed off. “Could we proceed? I am curious to meet this Miss Fluttershy with whom you are acquainted.”

“Of course,” Twilight said softly. “I’m sorry for the delay.”

“No need to apologise,” Lightning said. “If you will show the way once more?”

Twilight resumed leading, and swiftly enough – it wasn’t that there were no more delays, but there were no more delays on which they dwelt – they came to the large, shrub-like cottage that Fluttershy called home. As they approached Twilight noticed that the stream that ran by the cottage had burst its banks, rising almost to the level of the hoof-bridge that crossed over the water which now lapped up and down against it; said water was also very close to the door of the cottage itself.

A host of little creatures – and some not so little ones, including a goat and a towering bear – had gathered at the water’s edge, gathered around Fluttershy who sat with her tail dipped slightly into the risen river, nursing a beaver.

“Fluttershy,” Twilight said, picking up her pace a little on the final approach. “Is everything… what am I saying, everything is obviously not okay, but what happened?”

“Oh, Twilight!” Fluttershy said, gently putting the beaver down on the ground as she rose to her hooves. “Actually, I was hoping that you could explain to me what’s been going on. It’s been one thing after another this morning, first the beaver dam upstream broke and released all the water that was pent up behind it, but not only that but poor Mister Beaverton Beaverteeth was injured in the collapse and now he can’t possibly repair the damage! Poor little thing. But then, as if all of this water driving everybody out of their homes wasn’t enough, there was that awful crack in the sky that scared all of my friends half to death.

“I was a little terrified of it myself, and if I hadn’t had to pull myself together to calm everyone else down I’d probably still be curled up in the living room right now. Do you know what that was? It didn’t look like a sonic rainboom, but I’ve never heard of anything else that could do such a thing before.”

“You have my most sincere apologies for all the trouble that I have caused you,” Lightning said, and as Krysta slid off his back – on the side of him that was further from the water – he walked forward, splashing around Twilight until he stood level with her facing Fluttershy. “It was the only way to reach this place but I should have considered the effect it might have on all those who live in this wondrous place.”

Fluttershy took a step backwards away from this stranger to her sight and to her home, turning her head away so that her lilac mane fell down across her face like a curtain hiding the stage from view. “Oh. Um, hello there. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.”

“He fell out of the sky,” Pinkie chirruped enthusiastically. “And he’s from a really long way away and he didn’t even know that this was Equestria until we told him and then he said that Equestria was some really special place and he’s heard of Celestia and I don’t know what it all means yet but I bet it’s going to add up to something pretty cool.”

“I… see?” Fluttershy murmured. She hesitated. “I’m sorry, I really don’t understand at all.”

“None of us understands,” Twilight said. “Mostly because someone won’t explain.”

“With respect, Miss Twilight Sparkle, I have promised an explanation in my own time,” Lightning replied with a degree of asperity in his voice. “In the meantime if you understood then you would not begrudge me my will to sample the delights of this wondrous, fair and happy world.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Twilight said, and she refrained from mentioning to him that because of his silence she had to take it on trust that he was right. “Fluttershy this is Lightni- Prince Lightning Dawn, and his sister Krysta. Prince Lightning Dawn, this is my friend Fluttershy.”

Lightning bowed her head, and as he had done with Twilight – but as he had not done with any of her other friends – he took her hoof in his and raised it to his lips. “A great pleasure.”

“Oh, well, I’m pleased to meet you, too,” Fluttershy said. “And I suppose that you couldn’t really help causing all that commotion earlier, you couldn’t have know that my friends would be frightened by it.”

Lightning looked around at all the creatures gathered nearby. “You care for all of these creatures? You are their mother?”

Fluttershy chuckled. “I wouldn’t call myself their mother, but I do try and take good care of all of them.”

“As a mother cares for her children,” Lightning said. “To devote oneself to the nurturing and care of others is amongst the highest callings to which one can devote oneself. You have no call to hide your face away, Miss Fluttershy. Hold your head up high, and be proud that you are mother to this little world.”

Fluttershy looked uncertain of how exactly she ought to respond to that. “Um, thank you?” She hesitated, until she caught a better sight of Krysta than she had been afforded before. “Oh my goodness, is that your sister? I mean, I’m sorry, but I’ve never seen anybody who looked quite like you before.”

“Nobody has,” Krysta said. “Well… not a lot of people anyway. I’m a Fae, and I’m really rare.” She brightened up a little bit at that, or seemed to at least, preening herself with one hand and striking a pose. “I guess that makes me pretty special, huh?”

Twilight frowned ever so slightly. She was almost as curious about that as she was regarding all the other mysteries surrounding these two strangers to Equestria.

“Oh, yes,” Fluttershy said. “Why, I’ve never even heard of a fae before. Where do you come from?”

“I… don’t really know,” Krysta admitted. “Ooh, but I know that whoever they are we’re a pretty cool bunch. Check out all of my awesome powers.” She snapped her fingers and her hitherto pale skin turned the same shade of butter yellow as Fluttershy’s coat. Another snap of her fingers and her skin turned to lavender, and with another snap to pink. Krysta was grinning now as she snapped her fingers once more to turn her hair the same purple as Rarity’s mane, and then a pale flaxen colour. Krysta was positively beaming as she snapped both her fingers and her skin immediately altered to resembling Lightning Dawn’s marbled coat, while her hair shifted to mimic Twilight’s pink-streaked mane. Only Krysta’s eyes remained consistent, the same large orbs in the same shade of blue.

“That’s incredible,” Twilight said. “Can you just do that naturally?”

“That almost reminds me a little of chameleons,” Fluttershy said. “But they can only change colour to match their environment.”

“Perhaps it started off that way as a defensive ability and then become something more,” Twilight suggested.

Krysta looked rather pleased with herself, judging by the smug look on her face. “I’m incredible. Ooh, and that’s not all I can do either, check this out.” She held out her hands before, pointing the palms slightly downwards in the direction of Lightning Dawn’s hooves.

“Krysta,” Lightning said. “What are you-“

Krysta closed her eyes and her hands, and began to pull them apart as though she was drawing a pair of particularly stubborn curtains. A portal, a hole in the world rimmed with fluctuating azure energy, opened up directly under Lightning Dawn’s hooves.

He dropped through it with a startled squawk, falling through an identical portal that just opened up a few feet away to fall into the swollen river with a splash that covered all four ponies.

“Warp portals,” Krysta explained. “Awesome, huh?”

“It’s impressive magic,” Twilight murmured, her eyes fixed on the stream by Fluttershy’s cottage. “Is he-“

“He’ll be fine,” Krysta said. “Any second now-“

“KRYSTA!” Lightning roared as he breached the water like a whale.

“He’ll come right out huffing and puffing,” Krysta said.

Lightning clambered out of the water, shaking himself like a dog and incidentally splashing even more water all over the ponies. He glowered at Krysta for a moment, but she faced him without a trace of uncertainty or contrition. In fact she was smiling as though this was the funniest thing she’d seen all day.

Lightning shook his head, and turned away from her.

“So,” Twilight said, hoping that she wasn’t intruding into an awkward moment. “If you can create portals, did you create the crack in the sky that you both plunged through?”

Krysta laughed. “No. No, I couldn’t make anything that big, or to a place I’d never seen before. My range is… okay, I guess, I don’t really know how it stacks up, but if I try to open a portal to anywhere I haven’t actually seen with my own eyes it could… it could get pretty bad.”

Lightning was still dripping a little bit of water down onto the ground as he said, “Since this is a shield world, we were forced to use a warp gate to brute force our way past the barriers and into this place. That was the reason for our entry which apparently caused both disturbance and distress. Miss Fluttershy, as I have been the cause of some of your difficulties, with your permission I will return tomorrow and see if I can repair your damaged dam that is the cause of your other troubles.”

“Really?” Fluttershy said. “That would be very kind of you.”

“Are you sure about that?” Twilight said, remembering Lightning’s difficulty with the rose bush and his admission that his telekinesis was neither deft nor delicate.

“I am no stranger to carpentry and the like,” Lightning explained. “I used to pay our way with hoof-work when Krysta and I were young, didn’t I Krysta?”

“Sure you did,” Krysta said. “When anybody would give you work.”

Lightning bowed his head to Fluttershy. “Miss Fluttershy, it has been a great pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Um, likewise, to both of you,” Fluttershy said. As Lightning turned away she approached Twilight and whispered into her ear. “Um, Twilight, who is that exactly?”

“At this point,” Twilight said, as she watched Krysta mount Lightning’s back once more. “I’m not sure that I could say.”

They headed back into Ponyville from Fluttershy’s cottage, as Lightning and Krysta continued to look rather awed by just about everything about Ponyville.

“I must confess,” Lightning said, as they wandered down Mane Street, attracting curious glances and friendly waves in equal measure from the ponies passing by. “I wasn’t expecting Equestria to seem quite so… rustic.”

Twilight slowed her pace a little so that she was level with the two of them. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” Lightning said quickly. “It’s just that… it isn’t how I imagined it and frankly it wasn’t how it was described to me.”

“This kinda reminds me of the places that we used to get run out of back in the day,” Krysta said. “You know, except friendlier,” she added, waving to Derpy as the mailmare flew by.

Twilight smiled. “Everypony here is very friendly. I don’t think I’ve met a single sour soul since I came to live here. But I’m curious, what were you expecting?”

Lightning was silent for a moment. “This puts the tale a little out of order but I have actually met someone from Equestria before. My elder sister, Sunset Shimmer, hails from Equestria, or claims to do so; claims with sufficiently credibility that my father believes it, and the king is no one’s fool.”

Twilight’s eyebrows rose. She had never heard the name Sunset Shimmer before, but perhaps Princess Celestia would recall it; she couldn’t help but feel that she must have been at least somewhat notable if she had found a way to leave Equestria behind and venture to… wherever it was that Lightning and Krysta had come to Equestria from. “You have a sister from here but you couldn’t find your way back?”

“Sunset couldn’t recreate the means by which she had come to us,” Lightning explained. “Nor could she plot the location of this world on any star chart, having only dwelt here from the inside, if that makes sense to you.”

“I… think so,” Twilight ventured. “Hopefully it will make more sense when you give me all the details.”

Lightning didn’t react to that jab. Twilight thought that it was not so much that he was enjoying keeping her in suspense so much as he had simply put his desire to see the sights above her desire to understand what was going on. She supposed that there wasn’t actually anything wrong with that, even if it did seem just a little selfish to her eyes.

“The point is,” Lightning said. “That when Sunset has spoken of Equestria – when it can be dragged out of her what paradise was like – she speaks of things more… cultivated than this. Gleaming spires tipped with gold-“

“Growing out of the side of the mountain like coral,” Twilight said. “The levels of the city climbing towards the peaks, the fountains and the gardens, the beauty and the elegance of a princess amongst princesses.”

Lightning’s eyebrows rose. “You know of what she spoke?”

“Prince Lightning,” Twilight said delicately. “You might want to look up just a little bit.”

Lightning raised his head, and in so doing his eyes caught sight of Canterlot in the distance, half-obscured by clouds but nevertheless still just about visible upon the mountainside.

His mouth hung open, just a little. “That… yes, that looks a little more like it. I take it then that that is the seat of the princess?”

“That’s Canterlot,” Twilight agreed. “The beating heart of Equestria.”

“And yet you live here, for all that you are the princess’ student?”

“There are more ways to learn than reading books,” Twilight said. “I’m here because this is the best place for me to study the magic of friendship.”

Lightning stared at her for a moment. “The magic,” he repeated, in the tone of someone struggling to contain his scepticism, “of friendship?”

“Yes,” Twilight replied, and she was too confident in herself to sound defensive upon the subject. “The most powerful magic in Equestria, the force that enriches each of our lives if only we have the courage to open up our hearts to it.”

“How do you study that?” Krysta asked.

“By living,” Twilight said. “I… I didn’t really have any friends before I came here.” She briefly thought of Moondancer, and felt a pang of guilt for having missed her party, but the fact that she could so easily walk away from Moondancer without a backwards glance was proof, if proof were needed, that whatever connection had existed between them was nothing compared to that which existed with her Ponyville friends. She could never have treated them that way, as unfair as that might be to Moondancer herself.

I should probably try and make it up to her somehow, though.

“And so,” Twilight continued, putting a bookmark in that thought for later reference. “Just by being here, just by sharing my life with my friends, every day I learn something new and wonderful from each of them.”

Lightning looked into her eyes. “You will forgive me, but that seems rather an airy concept, verging upon a frivolous waste of time and talent.”

Twilight took a step back. “Prince Lightning Dawn, has anypony ever told you that you can seem a rather judgemental person?”

“I have!” Krysta declared, raising her hand into the air.

“I meant no offence.”

“No, you just said something that you knew could offend me,” Twilight said. “When you could have said nothing at all.”

“I… I am just surprised,” Lightning said. “I look around at this place and I am amazed and astonished by how… how peaceful it is. I know that this is a shield world but there is no wall here, no watchtower, not even a ditch and palisade to keep out intruders and no guard post anywhere.”

“Why would we need them?” Twilight asked.

“Miss Fluttershy lives upon the outskirts far from any aid.”

“Why would she need to worry?” inquired Twilight, with genuine curiosity.

“Why would she not worry?” Lightning replied. “Why would you all not worry? Why are you allowed to waste your talents in magic dwelling in this little place instead of honing your skills in the capital for the benefit of your people? Why does Princess Celestia tolerate such wastefulness, from you and from Miss Rarity? Why… how can it be afforded? How can the nation tolerate such excess and misuse of the precious gifts that have been bestowed upon it?”

Twilight stared at him, her eyes almost as wide as Krysta. Guard tower? Wall? Misuse? She could not longer contain her curiosity, a curiosity now added to and animated by a degree of concern. “Rarity, Pinkie,” she said softly. “Would you excuse us please?”

Rarity hesitated for a moment before she said, “Of course, darling. Come along, Pinkie dear.”

“Goodbye!” Krysta called, waving to them as they took their leave. She looked down at Twilight. “Is everything okay?”

“Prince Lightning,” Twilight said. “I know that it isn’t what you want but I need you to explain everything to me. Now. Because frankly… what you’re suggesting about the place you come from is a little concerning to me.”

Lightning was still and silent for a moment. “Yes,” he admitted. “Yes, I can see how you might form such an impression. Very well. Lead the way to some private place and I will tell you everything that you wish to know about… all of this.”

Twilight nodded. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, Miss Twilight Sparkle,” Lightning said. “In truth… I should not have allowed my enthusiasm to get the better of me thus. I should have told you all when I first arrived; I had no right to both be reticent and to seek your aid.”

“Perhaps,” Twilight said. She paused a moment before she added, “You know you don’t need to call me Miss Twilight Sparkle all the time, right? Twilight will be fine.”

“Rather familiar, I fear,” Lightning said. “Will Miss Twilight suffice?”

Twilight smiled. “It will do very well. Please, follow me.”

She brought him to the library, opening the doors with her magic and leading him inside the circular space, where books climbed up the walls towards the high windows. As Lightning and Krysta, the latter having dismounted, followed Twilight inside (Twilight closed the door behind them), Twilight heard the patter of Spike’s feet before she saw him descending the stairs from the bedroom.

“There you are!” Spike declared in a somewhat irate tone. “I woke up from that huge explosion and you were nowhere to be seen! I didn’t know where you’d gone or what was happening, you didn’t even leave a note! And then when I went to see if Rarity knew what was up she wasn’t at Carousel Boutique either! I couldn’t find anypony. So I came back here and I didn’t know whether to write to Princess Celestia and say that you were in trouble or what I was supposed to do.”

“Ah,” Lightning said. “This must be your little brother.”

“Oh, gee, thanks,” Krysta said. “I bet he’s the cool, quirky, funny one that everyone likes too, aren’t ya little buddy?”

Twilight cleared her throat. “As you can see, Spike, we have guests.”

“Yeah,” Spike said. “I can see that. Uh, Twilight, who’s the big guy wearing all the armour who looks like he could squash me under his hoof?”

Lightning looked ever so slightly affronted. “The fact that I probably could doesn’t mean that I will, young fellow,” he said. “I am your sister’s guest and she has promised to aid me in my quest. To harm her brother without cause would be most discourteous.”

Twilight couldn’t help that the fact he’d just described it as discourteous – as opposed to morally wrong – was an attempt at humour on his part. It wasn’t very funny, but still. “Spike,” she said. “This is Prince Lightning Dawn and Princess Krysta-“

“I, um, I’m not actually a princess,” Krysta said. “That stuff was just me kidding around.”

“I knew that,” Twilight assured her. “But Lightning is a prince and you’re his sister, so-“

“It’s complicated,” Krysta said. “And Lightning probably needs to explain all of the other stuff before you can understand it properly. It’s Prince Lightning Dawn and plain old Krysta.”

“Prince Lightning Dawn and Krysta from where?” Spike said.

“That is something that his highness will explain shortly, I hope,” Twilight said. “Prince Lightning, Krysta, this is my-“ she stopped short of calling Spike her assistant; it would have seemed cold after Lightning had identified him as Twilight’s brother. And they had grown up together, after all, and in many ways they were closer than Twilight was with her actual brother now, although the distance between her and Shining Armour was another sad thought to go along with the thoughts about Moondancer she’d had earlier. Twilight put a bookmark in that, too, but put a smile upon her face as she placed a hoof around Spike’s shoulders. “This is my little brother, Spike.”

“A pleasure,” Lightning said. “Now, I should have-“ he stopped as his golden eyes caught the golem sitting at the back of the library. “What is that?”

"Oh, that?" Twilight asked, following his gaze to the unfinished statue standing against the wall. "That's just something I've been working on."

"You are an artist as well as a student of... the magic of friendship?" Lightning asked.

"You know, you don't have to say it with an incessant sneer in your tone," Twilight said, somewhat pointedly.

"This is not a sneer, Miss Twilight, this is merely enduring scepticism."

Twilight rolled her eyes. "Believe me, I know how it sounds. I was pretty sceptical about the whole idea at first myself, wasn't I, Spike?"

"Totally," Spike agreed.

"But that… I think that's why I needed to come here and do this," Twilight said. "When I think back to how insular I was, how... kind of stuck up I was, too, I just… I thought I knew best for everyone, I didn't think I needed anyone else, I didn't think I should need anyone. I have to study the magic of friendship because I need the help to become a better pony. A decent pony. And with the help of my friends, I think I'm getting there."

Krysta smiled. "Don't worry, Twilight. It makes perfect sense to me."

"It does?"

"Sure," Krysta said. "And Lightning isn't going to make fun of it any more, are you?" Although phrased as question, her tone in the inflection of those last two words made its nature as an instruction plain.

"I have never made fun, as you put it," Lightning said. "I merely wonder whether it is the best use the princess's student, to better herself without benefiting the realm." He sighed. "But I have no desire to quarrel with you, and I apologise if you are offended by any of my opinions. Please, the statue. I find my curiosity aroused."

"Oh, right," Twilight said, having almost forgotten how they had come to this point in the conversation. "Although it has taught me a fair amount about moulding clay that isn't actually an art piece. It's a golem I've been working on."

Lightning walked towards it. He studied it intently. "But you did fashion it? With magic?"

"That's right."

"Once again, Miss Twilight, I am in awe of your dexterity with the arcane powers," Lightning murmured. "Golem," he said, rolling the word up and down on his tongue. "I fear I do not know the word."

"It's a zebra word, in the tongue of the Most High of Imperial Grevyia, the ancient zebra realm," Twilight said. "The first golems were... it's a little creepy, really, the ancient zebra sorcerers used their arts to bind the souls of the dead to vessels of clay or stone."

"That sounds like an excellent idea," Lightning said. "Is that what you mean to do with this?"

"No!" Twilight said loudly, and in a tone of some surprise. "Why would you… you really think it's a good idea?"

"I can think of those whose wisdom, courage, strength, power it would be beneficial to retain," Lightning said. "And if we are to add more... sentimental considerations is there no one that you have lost that you would dearly love to have returned to you?"

"What about letting the dead rest?" Twilight asked.

"That is a no, then," Lightning said. He paused. "I... I don't remember my mother very well. I barely remember her at all... she's like a shadow in my mind, devoid of detail. I... for all my good fortune and my contentment in my place I would like very much to know her, by whatever means, even those which may seem to you… abhorrent."

Twilight nodded. "I... I suppose that I can understand that," she murmured. The books she had consulted had all been very scathing about the early Grevyian golems, seeing them as part of an unhealthy denial of death amongst the empire's highest, a culture that had wasted away in the pursuit of immortality, counting the ancestors of their lineages dearer than the names of their sons. But she would be lying if she said that she couldn't see Lightning's point now that he had brought it up. If anything should happen to one of her friends she might well feel the same way.

"In any case," she said. "That's not the exact kind of golem I'm working on. Unicorns modified the spell so that the golem could come to life independently, without the need for a bound spirit. The intention was to replace servants, but people didn't really like them and with magic you don't really need that kind of assistance anyway, so... they just went out of fashion and were forgotten."

"Then why are you creating them, if I may ask?"

"To see if I could get most of the way," Twilight admitted. "To see if I could get to grips with the theory. To test myself. Your opinions on the magic of friendship aside I didn't stop studying other forms of magic when I came to live in Ponyville."

"But if you do not intend to use it, as I think you mean if I take your meaning correctly, then what use is it?"

"Not everything has to be of use," Twilight said. "Not everything has to serve a higher purpose, for the realm or even for ourselves. Rarity's dresses don't serve a higher purpose except to be beautiful but that doesn't mean that the effort and creativity that she puts into making them is effort wasted. I... you confuse me a little because, well, by the metric of utility Applejack is the most productive and useful of my friends but you turned up your nose at her, while Fluttershy you fawned on and what kind of what kind of use does the care of her animals serve?"

"None," Lightning admitted. "But that she can care for them shows a maternal nature most fitting."

"And Rarity's art shows the beauty in her soul; by such a metric you can justify almost anything," Twilight replied. "Isn't it enough to just do something for the sake of what is required to achieve it, for the challenge, for the knowledge gained?"

Lightning looked at her, and his face seemed touched with melancholy, as though the rose he had plucked for Krysta had been touched by a sudden frost, its beauty obscured but not entirely hidden. "This truly must be a wonderful world, where such thoughts run free, and can be borne without consequence."

"Ah," Twilight said. "Do we come to it at last?"

"I think we do," Lightning said. "At last."

"Then I'll make some tea," Twilight said. "Unless you'd like something else?"

"Tea will be perfect, thank you," Lightning said. "Milk, please, but no sugar."

"I'll have four sugars, please," Krysta said.

"Okay," Twilight said, as she wandered into the kitchen to make the drinks. She returned just a little while later to find Lightning sitting, looking only slightly awkward in his armour, on the floor of the library, while Krysta held open a portal between the top of the stairs and the floor, a portal though which Spike was leaping back and forth.

"Check this out, Twilight," Spike cried. "Krysta's amazing."

"That's right," Krysta said. "As amazing as it gets."

"It is incredible magic," Twilight said, as she set all four teacups down on the table. "I don't suppose that there's any way you could teach me how you do it?"

"I could try," Krysta said. "But I don't know if I actually could. I don't tend to think about it too hard, it just... kind of happens when I want it to."

"I see," Twilight said, containing her disappointment and keeping it from view. It would have been an interesting spell to learn, sure, but she couldn't learn every single spell in the world.

And besides, just because Krysta couldn't teach her didn't mean that she couldn't find the answer in a book or something now that she knew to look for it.

But there were not pressing matters before her now. Twilight sat down opposite Lightning. "Prince Lightning, please begin."

Lightning Dawn looked away from Twilight for a moment. "I... I am not quite sure where to begin. This world, this Equestria of far fame, is one of many worlds scattered throughout space, points of light in an otherwise lifeless void, worlds teeming with life: ponies, griffons, hippogriffs, minotaurs, elves, lizard folk, every kind of creature that you could possibly imagine. Our history and archaeology tells us that all life spread outwards from a world called Terra, home to a race of god-like beings who fashioned all other life in their own image before... disappearing."

"What happened to them?" Twilight said. "How can a race of god-like beings simply disappear?"

"I do not know," Lightning said. "No one does, all we know is that they existed and that relics of their civilisation are uncovered across the stars almost every day."

"Relics?" Twilight said. "You mean pottery fragments, epigraphy?"

"Some of that." Lightning said. "Also their art, their culture, their technology, such as the warp gate that Krysta and I used to breach the defences of this world."

"You've used the term shield world more than once," Twilight reminded him.

"So I have," Lightning said. "The ancient Terrans die not simply colonise worlds, they made them, and the shield worlds are their crowning glory. Equestria, like a jewel in the box of some great lady, is surrounded by an armoured shell like an egg, protecting it from all harm. Vast, powerful defence systems ward you, ready to obliterate any hostile ship that draws near, and a passage into the firmament for vessels without can only be granted from the control room which, I presume is lost to you?"

"It's all lost." Twilight said. "I've never heard any of this before."

"Then learn from it, I beg you," Lightning said. "The only reason you have the liberty here to behave as you do is due to the protection afforded to you by the good fortune of your dwelling here."

"I disagree," Twilight said. "We may live what seem to be happy and peaceful lives to you but that doesn't mean that those lives are without perils or obstacles. We simply choose not to let them define us or keep us from doing the things that make us happy."

Lightning did not agree or disagree with that. He was quiet a moment, before he said, "Having explained that to you I am afraid it is all... somewhat irrelevant to what comes next for our story begins here in Equestria, in the city of Olympia."

"The Lost City of Olympia?" Spike said. "Isn't that an old pony's tail?"

"So was Nightmare Moon," Twilight reminded him.

Lightning looked a little surprised. "You remember Nightmare Moon?"

"Twilight stopped her," Spike said, in a tone too smug for achievements that were not his own.

"With my friends," Twilight said quickly.

"Woah," Krysta murmured.

"I fear that I have underestimated you, all of you," Lightning said. "You must possess uncommon skill and power to have brought down such a demon."

"Brought down?" Twilight said nervously. "We didn't kill her, if that's what you think; we saved her, the six of us, using the magic of friendship. Now Princess Luna has returned, and sits by Celestia's side once more as it should be."

"And she is trusted after her treachery?"

"She is forgiven," Twilight said. "That's how we do things here; we forgive those who regret the things that they have done. I... I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to forgive me, Prince Lightning, but considering your reverence for Equestria you don't seem to know much about the way we live our lives."

"I am not offended, Miss Twilight, your words are fair enough," Lightning said regretfully. "It is true that much has been lost, and the way in which we live owes less to Equestria of old than it does to the more hostile world in which we make our way. But leave that for the moment: contrary to what you might think, Master Spike, Olympia was once as real a place as this library in which we sit, albeit considerably larger. It sat far away from here, far from the lands ruled by Princess Celestia."

"In the stories, Olympia lay on the ruins of the northern marches of the Zebra Empire," Twilight said. "And arose after dragons and griffons laid waste to Ancient Grevyia."

Lightning nodded. "Indeed. Olympia was... to hear my father speak of it is to hear an echo of paradise long passed and vanished into the mists, to hear a lament for wondrous beauty gone beyond recall. It was the home to a splendid people, proud and strong and warlike, and under the protection of that warlike breed flourished too art and learning. The city was ruled by a pair of brother kings, who shared the throne and rule: King Jupiter, as white as samite, the King of Gold; and his brother King Saturn, whose coat and heart alike were black as the night, the King of Ebony. Jupiter was the wisest of kings, but such was his live for his brother that he could not see the darkness festering within him, and was deaf to the counsel of those who warned him that Saturn's discontent grew more each day.

"It was around this time that Princess Celestia took up her rule in Equestria, and word soon reached Olympia of the beauty of this princess, fairest amongst all the princesses of the world and fairer than the word in wondrous virtues. Such was the only worthy consort for the greatest of kings, and so Jupiter set out to Equestria accompanied by a rich train to woo and win the princess for his bride."

"His bride?" Twilight repeated, with a degree of incredulity on her voice born partly out of her continuing difficulty in imagining Princess Celestia as the object of anyone's desires, and partly because she found it equally to imagine the immortal Celestia marrying anyone.

"So, wait up a second," Spike said. "Was he immortal too?"

"Not was, but is, Master Spike," Lightning said. "Lord Jupiter, King of Olympia and Protector of the Light, is my father and my king. So you see it was a perfect match: who better to be the bride of an immortal king of power and majesty than an immortal princess radiant fair?"

"Someone who wanted to be his bride?" Twilight suggested. She could not help but feel that there was something cold about the phrasing that Lightning had used, although he had not spoken coldly so much as without great passion; regardless, it irked her in ways she could not quite put into words to hear Celestia, her teacher and the possessor of such knowledge and experience, reduced thus to her beauty and her worth in the marriage market.

"As I said, he set out to woo her," Lightning said, slightly reprovingly. "However, his brother Saturn was filled with envy at the prospect of Jupiter gaining the hoof of Celestia in marriage, and so he set out with his own train to win the princess for himself.

"My father speaks little of what came next, it seems the grief of it is still too near for him, but I know that after many labours done in her service, tourneys won, banquets thrown, dances and balls and all the panoply of courtly love he won the lady, heart and hoof, and triumphed over Saturn as Celestia pledged her heart to him. Has she really never spoken of this to you?"

Twilight shook her head. "Not a word."

Lightning frowned. "Sunset knew nought of it either. Perhaps... her grief must run even rawer than that of my father the King, for she had, it is said, a most feminine and gentle heart."

"Yes, that must be it," Twilight said, in a voice that was not quite sarcastic while at the same time not being devoid of sarcasm.

Lightning seemed deaf to it as he continued, "This was a humiliation that Saturn, who after a lifetime of storing up imaginary slights and injustices that only he could perceive had finally been truly bested by his brother, could not brook. His villainous heart could not endure it, and - his ire aroused to vengeance - he set his malign intent to work to spread malignance. He found a willing ally in Princess Luna, another victim of imagined slights hiding wickedness behind a lovely face."

"You, or whoever told you this story, are too harsh there," Twilight said. "Princess Luna isn't evil and she never was, she was just troubled and lonely and she made a bad choice. She's better now."

"So it appears," Lightning said.

"So it is," Twilight insisted. "Of the two of us, I've actually met her."

"And yet this lonely, troubled princess transformed herself into a monster bent on the destruction of all things."

"As I said," Twilight said frostily, "She made a mistake."

"She did villainy, and knew full well what she did," Lightning said. "In a land less innocent it would be better comprehended what that meant."

"Is that so?" Twilight demanded. "In which case I think that I'm quite pleased to live in an innocent land, where we have more compassion."

"Compassion," Lightning murmured. "Yes, well... In any case, before her fall - or at least before her fall was known - Luna and Saturn intrigued together and plotted to rule side by side after the ruin of their siblings. When Nightmare Moon struck Saturn returned to Olympia and proclaimed himself sole king over the city, inspiring many of the ponies there to follow him. But his plans went awry when Nightmare Moon was defeated and sealed away, and shortly after Jupiter and Celestia descended upon Olympia with all their power and hearts full of wrath. The Equestrian strength, such as it was, was no match for the vaunted prowess of the Olympian warriors, but at the return of Jupiter many of his subjects rallied to their king and a great struggle raged within and without the seven-gated city. Lord Jupiter dispatched his champions, one by one, to lead the assaults upon the gates, while Saturn sent his champion one by one to defend them. Until only one gate remained and neither had any champions left to send.

"And so the two brothers faced one another while the battle raged around them. Light and darkness were evenly matched, neither able to gain an advantage over the other, yet as they fought Jupiter feared he could perceive the greater struggle turning in Saturn's favour. And so, to protect Celestia, he made the ultimate sacrifice: he cast a spell of unmatched scale and power, a spell so great it banished him and Saturn and all Olympia out of this world completely, scattering them into the void like charts of wheat thrown up into the air to fall whither they will.

"When he awoke from the darkness my father had no idea where he was, but with the few faithful followers that yet remained to him they set out to build a new civilisation in this new home, establishing New Olympia. They grew in number, and their knowledge of science and magic advanced by such leaps and bounds that they were able to leave the boundaries of their new world and venture forth amongst the stars. And that is when they found that Saturn and his lawless resolute had also found a new home, which they called Titan, and were spreading their darkness forth once more, with the ultimate ambition of finding Equestria and taking it, its wonder and its fair princess for their own and for their dark lord's glory. And so my father and his people made two vows upon their eternal honour: that they would protect and defend the light of virtue and goodness wherever it burned, bear any burden, meet ant foe, pay any price to keep the dark at bay; and that we would seek Equestria, the promised land, the garden from which we were unjustly exiled, and ensure that it never fell into the hooves of the Titan Dominion or their Emperor. And so we have built a mighty fleet and raised a great army, forged many alliances with those who seek our aid and our protection, and the greatest of our warriors – amongst which number I count myself with all due modesty - have been granted the wings or horns or both to lift us, by the grace of our king, up to alicorns, to serve as knights, the elite of our people.

"The second oath I have fulfilled, our ancient quest completed, but not, I must confess, on purpose. I did not come to Equestria seeking Equestria, rather I came here in search of a magical treasure called a Prism Stone, one of a set of seven objects of great magical power when used individually and nearly unmatched when taken altogether. Two stones we have, more we need for the danger ever presses hard upon us and we have need of strength and power alike, and thus, as overjoyed as I an to be here in Equestria, I must still ask your assistance on finding the yellow Prism Stone which we believe to be somewhere in this world.

"If you will help me do so, Miss Twilight, and help me to work out if at a possible how to find this world again once I return home, then I think that soon enough Celestia and Jupiter may be reunited once again, and all will be as it was meant to be."

Twilight stared into the middle distance, staring but not really seeing, at least not seeing anything before her; rather her mind was a rush of images conjured by the tale that Lightning Dawn had spun before her eyes, images of Nightmare Moon and lost cities sprung from the dusty earth and the equally dusty past.

He had certainly given her an awful lot to think about in a rather short span of time. Some of what he had said would have thrilled and excited her - lost cities, life beyond the stars, the very idea that the night sky she knew, the sun and moon that the princesses controlled, were all part of some sort of closed system nested within a protective eggshell left by a long vanished civilisation that had placed it there for their protection, this was nigh inconceivable but once it was considered, it was at the same time rather wonderful to imagine.

And yet these awe-inducing notions were paired with things more worrying, more concerning, and at the same time much harder to believe. It might not make a lot of sense to an outsider that she could conceive of life on another world more easily than she could imagine Princess Celestia being engaged, but Twilight felt - Twilight told herself - that there was more to her reaction than instinctive inability to think of the princess in that light. There was a sense in which it didn't seem to fit, this notion of Celestia in love.

It was not that Princess Celestia was cold or heartless, far from it, she had been a second mother to Twilight and to Spike, and honestly Twilight felt as though she was not unique in that regard. She doubted she was the only pony who looked upon Celestia as a motherly figure, as a better mother even than the one that fate and nature had given them. She was a mother to the whole of Equestria, and when she spoke of her little ponies it was not merely a reference to the way that she physically towered over them but to the way that they were and would always be children in her eyes. At least, that was how Twilight saw it. Could someone who spread her love so widely across the land have enough left to give her love to someone else so completely as romantic love demanded? Could the princess who always seemed to be holding a part of herself back behind a mask of royal reserve take off the mask for a husband or fiancée. It was hard, very hard, for Twilight to picture it.

And yet that did not make Lightning Dawn a liar. It did not even make whoever had told him this story that he had faithfully regurgitated a liar. It could mean nothing more than that Twilight did not know Princess Celestia as well as she thought or would have liked to think.

More overtly concerning to Twilight's mind was the impression that Prince Lightning had given her - overtly and by inference - of the world in which he came from and the society in which he lived. He had given her some impressions already, with the scorn in which held the idea of anything that be considered frivolous and lacking in use, and he had nearly confirmed it at the brief tail-end if his account.

"So," Twilight said softly. "All that you do is bent towards the fulfilment of these vows you made? To the defeat of the darkness and the protection of the light?"

"Not quite all," Lightning said, sounding slightly embarrassed to admit the fact. "Certainly not as much as I, to say nothing of those even more committed to the fight than I am, might like. We have our gilded butterflies who gad about the court in glittering attire, seeking after favour or preferment, their fortunes ebbing and flowing like the moon. My own brother is one of them," he added in a tone of stern disapproval as though his distaste would somehow reach said brother so far away, wherever he was. "We have our balls and revels, our entertainments; we eat, we drink, we can be merry-"

"Some of us can," Krysta muttered. "Some people could do with remembering how."

Lightning ignore her. "And of course there are many mares who embrace their calling to be mothers first and foremost and for that choice to devote themselves to the nurture of the generation they are honoured and respected but, yes, for the most part we are a society bent on our just and noble cause, a society where all serve a higher purpose, whether it is the knight who strives upon the battlefield or the farmer who grows the wheat to make the bread the baker bakes to feed that knight; whether it is the sailor on his warship or the dockyard worker who built and who maintains that ship. All have their part to play and all give according to the best of their abilities. In the Alliance you would not study the magic of friendship, rather you would... I am not sure whether you would be put to research or fighting on the battlefield, I do not know your talents well enough, but you would be looked upon askance if, like a parasite, you did not put your gifts to their best use."

"With respect, Prince Lightning, you are not making me long for the reunion of our sundered kin," Twilight said quietly. "It seems a pretty joyless way of life."

"It is a necessary one," Lightning said. "And not without the spiritual fulfilment that come from duty done, from knowing oneself to be a part of something bigger than oneself and ones own selfish desires."

"We already find spiritual fulfilment from our lives as they are," Twilight said. "From doing the things that we love while surrounded by the ponies that we love. You call it selfish but I call a world where ponies are free to do as they wish within the bounds of common decency to be... a happy one. I would not give it up for the kind of world that you describe."

"Nor would I nor my father nor anyone else ask you to," Lightning said. "Our aim is not dominate nor to recession in our own image, we are not the Titan Dominion. Our aim is only to protect, to seek out what is good and pure and precious and protect it from all harm. Yet at the same time... you censure us, Miss Twilight, yet your peace and prosperity are only possible because you are fortunate enough to dwell within defences left to you by ancients long ago, and because, out beyond your knowledge or your comprehension you are protected by the blood and sacrifice of my people in our ceaseless struggle."

"We have perils of our own," Twilight said. "Perils from which your great ships and shining spears do not protect us. And we face those perils bravely and together when we must; but we take no joy in it, nor do we see it as the sum or pinnacle of our lives or achievements."

"You think that I take joy in war?" Lightning asked. He shook his head. "I do not love the bright blade for its sharpness, nor my armour for its sturdiness, nor my warlike skills for the glory. I love only that which they protect." He glanced at Krysta with a tenderness that flitted briefly into his eyes and then was gone. "My family which I have found, my people and my home who have been given to me; New Olympia of the floating cities and all the many worlds which nestle beneath our wing; worlds fair and foul, familiar and alien, fruitful and barren yet all home to some people or other and thus all worthy of protection. If it were not so should I not disdain Miss Fluttershy instead of honouring her? It is true I find some of your pastimes wasteful, pointless even... and yet to be wasteful is, in many ways, what we shed our blood to defend."

Twilight wished that she could be as reassured by that as he seemed to wish her to reassured by it. She glanced at Spike, and then looked down at the empty teacup in front of her; she had trained it while listening to Lightning's account. "Look at that," she said. "I'm out of tea, I'll have to go and make some more. Spike, why don't you-"

"I understand your desire to discuss what I have told you in private, you have no need to pretend otherwise," Lightning said affably. "It would verge upon bizarre if you did not."

Twilight felt her cheeks go slightly red. "Thank you for understanding," she murmured. "This is an awful lot to take in, I'm sure you'll agree."

"I can see how it might be," Lightning said.

Twilight got up. "Come on, Spike," she said, and led him back up the stairs and into the bedroom. She glanced down, momentarily, to see Lightning and Krysta engaged in some conversation of their own, before she turned her attention fully to Spike.

"So what do you think?"

"You're asking me?" Spike asked.

"You heard the same as I did," Twilight said.

"Yeah, but..." Spike trailed off momentarily. "It seems... kinda weird, don't you think? Why have we never heard about any of this?"

"Perhaps..." Twilight trailed off almost as soon as she had begun. "I don't know, Spike. Maybe Princess Celestia’s grief is still too great but that doesn't explain why none of it was ever written down. Maybe..."

"Do you think that he's telling the truth?" asked Spike, speaking the unspoken question hanging over their heads.

"I think... I think he believes it," Twilight said. "Although that's not the same thing. But we could spend forever speculating on why Celestia has kept this a secret, or if Lightning Dawn has given us an accurate account and it would still get us no closer to the truth. The only way to know for sure is to also do the right thing. Spike, take a letter to the princess."

Spike produced quill and parchment from... somewhere; he was very reliable that way.

Twilight cleared her throat. "Dear Princess Celestia," she dictated. "Unfortunately I'm not writing to you with my usual report, because this has turned into a very unusual day. You may have heard or witnessed from Canterlot some kind of spatial distortion that briefly opened up not far from Ponyville; alternately it may have escaped notice with you there, but from it emerged a pony, an alicorn stallion named Prince Lightning Dawn, and a creature calling herself a fae named Krysta.

"Lightning Dawn has quite a story to tell. He claims to be the son of a King Jupiter, originally from the Lost City of Olympia. According to his account, which may be familiar to you, this King Jupiter was once your fiancée, before disappearing during a struggle with his brother Saturn at around the time of Nightmare Moon's banishment. Again, according to Prince Lightning both Jupiter and Saturn yet live, in worlds far beyond our own.

"I apologise, Princess, if this brings up bad memories for you, but I felt it my duty as your student, as your subject, and as someone who cares both for you and for Equestria to inform you of this, and to ask for your urgent guidance.

"I'm not sure what I ought to do next. Some of what Lightning has told me about his world concerns me: namely the way in which they appear engaged in an unceasing struggle for supremacy against Saturn and his followers, with all their resources bent towards the end of war. Prince Lightning assures me that they seek only to protect others, to be a queen amongst other queens rather than a mistress of slaves, and I believe that he believes this; nevertheless it is a way of life so alien to our own I struggle to see how we could relate to one another.

"Princess Celestia, what should I do? What is your command?

"Prince Lightning tells me that, although Equestria is a world his people have sought ever since they were banished from it, he did not come here knowing that he would find it but rather seeking something called a Prism Stone, apparently a magical object of great power. I've promised to help him look for it, although I really don't know where to start.

"I await your instructions and your guidance. I feel in great need of both of them. I'm sorry, once again, if reading any of this upsets you, but I thought you needed to know and I... I need to hear from you.

"Your faithful student, Twilight Sparkle."

Spike breathed his green and fiery breath upon the parchment, dissolving it and dispatching it straight to Canterlot in a swirl of green fire. "What do we do now?" he asked.

"We wait," Twilight said. She descended the stairs, leaving Spike to follow behind her. "I've informed Princess Celestia about everything," she said. "I'm sure that she'll reply immediately.”

But Princess Celestia didn't reply right away. She didn't even reply in the first half an hour after Twilight sent her letter. Twilight, attempting to control her mounting sense of impatience, told herself that this was a weighty issue that she had suddenly dropped upon her teacher's head, it was only natural that the princess should want to take a little time and consider her reply.

But when an hour passed with still nothing from Princess, not even a reply to tell her that she was still thinking it over, Twilight could feel her impatience mounting inside her once again. What was Princess Celestia doing?

She would have expected that Lightning Dawn would also have started growing impatient by this time, but it did not appear to be the case. Rather he had retired to a corner of the library beneath the stairs, sitting there with his eyes closed and his hind legs crossed beneath him.

"Is he meditating?" Twilight said.

"Yup," Krysta said. "He does this whenever he can't do anything else. I don't really get what he's trying to do, but it seems to beat pacing up and down the room for him."

Twilight, who had been doing exactly that, winced. "Sorry."

"Oh, no, I didn't mean..." Krysta said. "Really, I wasn't trying to... it came out wrong." She frowned. "Listen, Twilight... I can call you Twilight, right?"

"Of course," Twilight said.

"Twilight, I know that you're worried about, well, about us. And I get why, because what Lightning talks about... it's like nothing that you've got here... But the thing that you need to understand is that... how do I explain this...when Lighting talks about New Olympia and the Alliance and all that stuff... it's like he's talking more about the thing that exists in his head rather than the place he actually lives in. Not that he's delusional or anything!" She added hastily as the implications of her words seemed to dawn on her. "It's just that... it's not as grim a place as he makes it sound."

"Would he like it to be?" Twilight asked softly.

Krysta hesitated. "He didn't used to be this way," she said. "I remember..." She frowned. "There are parts of New Olympia that are kind of... stiff, like him or worse if you can imagine that, and those are the parts that he hangs out with, but it's not the whole thing. So don't worry, okay? The world's not going to end just because we showed up."

Twilight smiled. "I'm glad to hear it, Krysta. Can I ask: how are you two planning to get home again?"

"The portal we came in by," Krysta said. "In seven days it's going to open up again, but in reverse, and suck us up through it back to New Olympia."

"A lot can happen seven days," Twilight said. "What if you couldn't get back there, or if you'd landed on a world more dangerous than Equestria?"

"Then we would... if Lightning were explaining this then the word honour would probably come up but the short answer is we'll be written off as dead."

Twilight's eyebrows rose.

"It's not entirely not like Lightning described," Krysta said.

"You're both very brave to take a risk like that."

Krysta shook her head. "He's brave. He's the bravest guy I know. We fight a lot, but I know he'll always be there when I need him. I'm just... I just tag along, because I've got nowhere else to go." She grinned. "You know, I'm glad we ended up in a place like this. Not Equestria, just a place like this."

"Really?"

"Sure," Krysta said. "Seven days in a place where folks do as they please without worrying about duty or the greater good? This will be good for him."

"You realise that he can probably hear us, right?"

"Nah, when he's meditating he goes deep, like he's on standby mode. I have to do something specific to bring him round. Do you want me to wake him up?"

"No," Twilight said. "There's no need to disturb him. I'll... I'll get started on helping you out, see if I can find out anything about these Prism Stones."

In the absence of any word from Princess Celestia, Twilight did the best thing she knew how in the circumstances: she hit the books. She pulled out all the texts on lore and mythology that they had in the library and, while Krysta looked on, she and Spike began to devour them, looking for any references to the Prism Stones that they could find.

They didn't have a lot of luck. There was no entry for Prism Stones in the Encyclopaedia of Equestrian Myths and Legends, nor in the Compendium of Compiled Mythologies; there was no entry for them in any glossary that Twilight consulted in her search.

"Is there anything else you can tell us about them?" Twilight said. "Any story they might be associated with that we could check?"

"Sorry, that stuff isn't my area," Krysta said. "Do you want me to bring Lightning out of it now?"

"You might have to," Twilight said, before her stomach growled.

Krysta's stomach growled too, in aroused mutual sympathy.

Twilight chuckled nervously. "Say, would you like to get something to eat?"

"Yeah, sure," Krysta said brightly. "Hang on just a sec. I hope I get the words right or this is going to be tough." She cleared her throat. "Arise, arise, the needful time is on us."

Lightning's eyes snapped open. "Well, that was refreshing," he observed. "Has Princess Celestia sent some response?"

"Nope," Krysta said, before Twilight could speak. "But it doesn't matter; we're going for something to eat."

"I see," Lightning murmured, rising to his feet. He looked at the pile of books on the floor. "What have I missed?"

"Nothing important, I'm afraid," Twilight said. "I tried to find out something about your stone, but no luck yet."

"Nevertheless, I thank you for the attempt, Miss Twilight."

"Just call her Twilight already," Krysta muttered.

Twilight, this time with Spike in tow, led the pair of them to Sugarcube Corner. She noticed that Lightning looked rather surprised by the look of the place from the outside, but he said nothing about it as the four of them walked through the door - the little bell rang as the door opened - and into the cosy and inviting interior of the shop.

"Welcome to Sugarcube- oh hey Twilight," Pinkie said as she bounced out of the back room. "Hey Spike, Krysta, Lightning. How are you all doing?"

"Hey, Pinkie," Twilight said. "We're getting a little hungry, do you think-"

"Well you came to the right place!" Pinkie declared. "Who likes cupcakes?"

"Ooh, me," Krysta said, raising both her hands into the air.

Pinkie beamed. "Then I'll be right back," she said, before disappearing once more into the back.

"Don't eat too many," Lightning said.

Krysta snorted. "Whatever, Mom."

"Do you not like this kind of thing?" Twilight asked, worried that only one of her two guests was going to enjoy this."

"He totally does, he just doesn't want to admit it," Krysta said.

Pinkie returned, her voluminous hair temporarily squashed beneath the platter of cup cakes she was balancing on top of her head.

"Here you go," she chirruped cheerily, as she trotted out and bent down to let Krysta pluck the laden platter from off her head.

Krysta's already large eyes were already wide still as she merely beheld the cakes, appearing mesmerized by the many bright colours of the frosting, the vivid pink and blue and green and yellow, the rainbow of sprinkles lightly dusting said frosting, the candy and chocolate pieces resting on the very top of the cakes.

"Some of them have fillings and some of them don't," Pinkie explained. "But if I told you which was which it would spoil the surprise."

Krysta gingerly linked up a cake with pink frosting. She held it gently, but seemed to squeeze it for a moment to feel its texture. Then her mouth opened wider than Twilight would have expected that it could as she popped the entire cake into her mouth, making her cheeks bulge outwards just a little.

As Krysta chewed, Pinkie bounced up and down upon the tips if her hooves, a look of eager anticipation on her face.

An inner light appeared to illuminate Krysta's face as she began to mumble something completely unintelligible, save that whatever it was appeared to be both fast and excited, as crumbs fell from her mouth or were spat across the room.

"Krysta, swallow," Lightning admonished, as Twilight picked up he crumbs with her telekinesis and put them in the nearest bin.

Krysta swallowed. "These are the best thing ever! How do you... are all Equestrian cakes this good."

"Just the ones made by Pinkie," Twilight said.

Pinkie blushed with pride. "I do my best, so long as everyone likes them-"

"Like them?" Krysta said. "These are the best cakes I've ever tasted. These are the best anything I've ever tasted. Lightning, you have to try one of these."

"I don't think they can-" Lightning was cut off when Krysta stuffed a bow frosted cupcake into his mouth, her small hand covering his mouth so that be had no choice but to begin to gingerly chew on the cake.

Krysta nodded eagerly as he swallowed.

Lightning said, "That... that was very nice, Miss Pinkie. May I... may I have another?"

"Not if I get there first," Krysta cried, stuffing two at once into her mouth so that she looked like a squirrel gathering nuts, her cheeks bulging out on both sides.

Once they had eaten their fill - Pinkie gave Krysta a box of more cakes, including pegasus cakes with bits of the cake cut out to make wings, the resulting gap being filled with butter cream to take back to the library - they resumed their earlier aborted tour of Ponyville.

"I feel as though I have taken advantage of your generosity, Miss Twilight," Lightning said as they walked through the town. "I am in your debt and yet I know of no way that I can repay you, having no gold still less any currency of this realm."

"A little extra on my tab at Sugarcube Corner is hardly a great debt," Twilight said lightly. "Apologise to Applejack and we'll call it even."

"Of course," Lightning said. "You are a generous mare, to ask in repayment only what I had intended to do regardless."

"I've been taught by a generous friend," Twilight said. "And besides, the happiness of my friends means more to me than a few bits."

"Does my opinion count for so much that the lack of it has Applejack plunged into despair?"

"I'd rather that you didn't do that," Twilight said.

"Do what, Miss Twilight?"

"If I am Miss Twilight then it should be Miss Applejack, too," Twilight said. "She is no less than the rest of us because she works a farm."

"You have studied at a princess's feet and yet you say you are no more than a common farmer?"

"There's nothing common about Applejack," Twilight said. "She's brave and honest and always dependable. I count myself no better than any of my friends just because happened to be born in Canterlot, or was so blessed as to be looked on by Celestia herself."

"You do not look on such a blessing as a blessing as a proof that you are set apart from other people?"

"My friendships are a blessing of a different kind," Twilight said. "One that I would lose, and deserve to lose, if I ever thought like that."

The tour continued, still with no reply from Princess Celestia, and as she led Lightning through the town, explaining to both himself and Krysta all the things requiring explanation, she also found herself telling him other things, like explaining the imminent Grand Galloping Gala to him, and all the hopes and dreams her friends had reposed in this one night, a night that now bore down upon them like an oncoming train.

"I find it rather ironic," Lightning said. "Miss Fluttershy is the one marked with a butterfly and yet it is Miss Rarity, marked by diamonds, who would be the gilded butterfly and flutter briefly in some lofty sphere before being cast down from it. Almost as the ironic as the way in which you, who have as much claim as any in this company to call yourself a member of the court, disclaim all part in it and all preferment while it is, again, Miss Rarity who seeks advancement of her prospects there."

"There's that judgemental side again," said Krysta from atop his back.

"I mean no offence," Lightning insisted. "I merely... does Miss Rarity comprehend what it is she truly seeks?"

"Honestly? I'm not sure," Twilight said. "But it's what she wants, and I'm not going to tell her that it's wrong or silly or anything like that. If she wants to try then who am I to stand in her way?"

"As her friend should you not give her truth?" Lightning said. "The fortunes of great ones ebb and flow like tide, and those who are in with the morning light are often out by sunset's shimmer."

"Where you come from maybe that is true," Twilight said. "But here... okay, I was too obsessed with books to really pay attention long enough to say for sure what it's like here, but I hope that it is gentler, fitting with our gentle world."

"A gentle world," Lightning murmured softly. "Aye, a gentle world indeed. As gentle a world as any I have seen and gentler still. As gentle as any I could imagine." He seemed sad, and said nothing further for quite some time, though he listened intently enough to all that Twilight said.

Showing him around Ponyville took a lot longer than Twilight had thought it would, mostly because her guest were more thorough than Twilight had thought they would be. By the time they were done it was close to sunset, and still no answer to Twilight's letter from the princess, and Twilight - when her distractions ceased and she was left with no choice but to confront the fact of royal silence - found it maddeningly inexplicable that Princess Celestia should ignore her, her great event, and all that she had learned without so much as acknowledging it, which she could have done even if she needed time to deliberate upon her course.

When she thought about it Twilight found it irksome, which was why she wa glad by the distractions afforded by catering to the whims and desires of Lightning and Krysta.

Or rather, just Lightning now, for as the hour grew late he had sent Krysta back to the library - Spike had gone with her - while he yet wished to remain abroad.

"I wonder, Miss Twilight, if you know of any place where one could look down upon the whole town, and watch the setting of the sun?"

Twilight smiled. "Come with me, I think I know just the place."

She brought him to her favourite star gazing spot, a hill overlooking Ponyville where one could watch the skies without any of the buildings getting in the way. As a matter of fact, all city lights being absent, Twilight was inclined to think that it was a better place for sky watching than any in Canterlot save only, perhaps, Celestia's royal observatory.

But of course, star gazing with Celestia had possessed its own charms.

Twilight led Lightning up to the top of the hill, where he sat down upon his launches as the sky turned golden and looked out across the town spread out below.

"So," Twilight said, as she sat down beside. "What do you think of Equestria? Is it everything that you expected?"

"No," Lightning said. "But it is a fair world, nonetheless." He glanced at Twilight, his golden eyes lingering upon her. "And those who dwell within it..." He trailed off and seemed embarrassed as he looked away.

Had he been trying to offer her a compliment? Upon her looks? Twilight felt... it certainly didn't feel bad, in fact it felt rather nice, but at the same times that didn't help her to work out how to respond to it. Nobody has ever offered her such before, even awkwardly and unfinished as it was.

Considering that Lightning seemed more embarrassed than anything else she thought it might be best for both of them if she ignored it. "I'm glad you like it."

Lightning nodded. An air of melancholy clung to him like perfume. "I wonder...I wonder if my home was like this."

Twilight blinked. "You wonder? Don't you know?"

"I have no memories of the place where I was born," Lightning said.

Twilight felt her eyes widen. "You weren't born in New Olympia?"

"No," Lightning said. "I am only my King's adopted son, adopted as all his children are. I was born on the world of... Hippolytus; the name is all that I remember. I know that I had a mother, a father; I suppose that I must have had friends, but... I have no memories of any of them. Of anything. I don't remember the sunrise or the sunset, I don't remember my mother's neck around me. There are times when I almost feel something tugging at my mind, like the memory of a dream... but it never lasts. They... they tell me that grief has caused me block out all my memories beyond recall. Grief or not... I would I could remember."

Twilight did not disagree with him. She couldn't say what he had witnessed to cause his memory to rebel against him in its efforts to protect his mind but for herself, if anything should happen, if even the worst should happen, then she wouldn't want to forget. She wouldn't want to forget what it was like to sit in front of the fire with Princess Celestia talking about magic; she wouldn't want to forget Spike, or Shining Armour, or her friends. Though horrors awaited them she would rather remember the bad, though it be truly terrible, rather than cast aside the good.

"I'm sorry," she said inadequately. "What happened?"

"My home... it was not so fortunate to be a shield world," Lightning said. "And the darkness descended on it. So I have been told, as I say I do not remember, and few can tell me because I am..." he sighed. "I am the last of that world."

"Oh, my goodness," Twilight murmured. "I... I wish that there was something adequate that I could say."

"It is alright, Miss Twilight," Lightning said. "I have Krysta, a new home, new family, new comrades. I am not alone."

"Even so," Twilight said. "I'm so sorry."

"I wish I could remember," Lightning said. "But since I cannot I look at this gentle place and I think to myself that my peaceful home of my birth might have looked somewhat like this."

The sun began to descend towards the horizon. A smile threatened to cross Lightning's face. "Lovely," he said.

Twilight could not help but let her surprise infect her tone. "I wouldn't have thought that you were the kind of pony who enjoyed watching a setting sun."

"I love not the bright blade for its sharpness," Lightning reminded. "Amongst the things I don't for the simple pleasures of watching a sunset, smelling a flower or eating a home cooked meal are not excluded. Not all my comrades would agree with me, but... thank you, Miss Twilight."

"For this?"

"For your kindness to a stranger from far off," Lightning said. "Being such a stranger is a position I am not without experience of being in and few have been so considerate to me and mine as you. For that you have my thanks."

Twilight smiled. "You're welcome."

They sat together in companionable silence as the sun descended beneath the horizon and the moon rose, illumining the sky with her silver light and causing all the stars to sparkle bright around her.

"So," Lightning whispered in a tone of reverent awe. "This is your sky. This is the sky of Equestria. This is the sky that my king and father looked on."

Twilight nodded.

Lightning stared up at it. "A comrade of mine claims that she can foretell the future by reading the patterns and courses of the stars."

"I don't know about that," Twilight said. "But they are beautiful."

"Yes," Lightning said. "Yes, they certainly are."