The Seven Trials of Mi Amore Cadenza

Chapters

The Trials of Princesshood
The Trial of the Diadem
The Trial of the Scepter
The Trial of the Flugelhorn

The Trials of Princesshood

It is the firm belief of many modern philosophers and political analysts that Equestria's modern age of international peace is largely due to the influence of tea.

It is the balm that soothes flared tempers and the ink with which policy is drafted. No fewer than twelve books have been written on the historical impact of tea, five of them by one unusually devoted historian in particular. The etiquette surrounding tea in Equestrian politics is as intricate as any other field of political maneuvering, where missteps can spell disaster. According to long-standing staff members in Canterlot Castle, with practice one can determine exactly how a diplomatic meeting with the Princess will turn out based solely on the opening tea service. Above all other drinks in Equestria, tea is held in highest regard.

And it was the firm opinion of Princess Cadance —recently-established ruler of the Crystal Empire— that the world would be a better place if the very notion of tea would just go die in a ditch.

In fact, she wouldn't terribly mind if the whole metaphysical concept of the drink were to vanish from existence entirely.

She demurely took another sip from her cup as the acrid poison pushed her both her natural alicorn resistance and her mental fortitude to their limits. "Hm. Lovely." She set the cup down as she wondered if the benefits of having a tongue outweighed the relief it would be to magic away the limb this very instant.

This particular brew was from a small mountainous nation which she had never heard of until being introduced to it's singular export. It was, by all accounts, a vile fluid which she would deem too cruel to force on even the denizens of Tartarus.

It was also hideously expensive, and therefore beloved by nobles and anypony who wanted to be perceived as such.

Chancellor Black Forest smiled through tea-stained teeth as his host. "I'm honored that you enjoy it. Such a rare blend; merely buying the rights to import it cost me a small fortune!"

Cadance smiled as she tried to think of a desensitization spell that wouldn't make her slur her words. Sadly, no such spell existed.

"You wished to discuss trade relations between your nation and the Crystal Empire?"

"Indeed. If you don't mind, I've brought some literature on the subject."

Reaching into his briefcase, the portly stallion produced a stack of documents hefty enough to make the whole tea set shake as they impacted the crystal table.

Cadance cast a quick glance to the timepiece on the mantle. It wasn't even midmorning yet. She inspected her teacup and wondered if drinking the whole pot would be enough to kill her.

Shining Armor waited in a crystal sitting room alone. Strictly speaking, there was a butler there as well, but the stallion stood so stock-still it was easy to mistake him for a piece of furniture. The tea had long since cooled and the cookies were going mushy. Twice a maid had come by and offered to refresh the platter, and twice she had been refused.

A soft knock on the door heralded her arrival for a third time. She stuck her head in, pale blue mane slightly muted in apprehension. "Your highness, the tea...?"

"It's fine," Shining grunted, perhaps more harshly than intended. He sighed and slumped in his seat. "Sorry, Kettle. I didn't mean to snap at you. The tea really is fine. I don't want you to have to remake it if it's just going to go cold again."

She slipped quietly into the room. "It's really no trouble your highness. After what you and Princess Cadance did to save us, we're more than happy to help serve you in any way we can."

Shining Armor merely grunted as her comments brought back to mind the current focus of his frustration. Cadance; his wife and recent habitual non-attendee to the very same afternoon tea breaks that she herself had scheduled. Missing once or twice was reasonable and was easily explained by unexpected work, but this was her seventh attempt to reschedule and likewise seventh unannounced cancellation. If it weren't for the fact that they still shared a bedroom, he'd have thought she was avoiding him.

He stood, popping his back as he flexed his stiff muscles. Like clockwork, the butler sprang to life. "Sir? Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Relax, Malachite." Shining waved him away. "I'm going to head down to Cadance's study. If whatever she's doing is that important, then I'm sure she wouldn't mind some help."

He left the sitting room with little fanfare. If he'd tarried too long, they probably would have tried to send him off with some. Even then as he walked through the corridors, crystal ponies stopped whatever they were doing and genuflected themselves before him. This tended to backfire often for crystal pegasi, especially those who didn't stop to check if the ground beneath them was free and clear of obstacles.

While Shining Armor was glad that the crystal ponies were recovering from their lives under Sombra, he sometimes thought they still went overboard in trying to please him. The bowing and scraping, for one thing. What few guards he had to work with he'd been able to convince that a salute was sufficient, but even after nearly two years of reminders the general staff still seemed intent on sticking with how they'd been indoctrinated to treat royalty. And then there was the level of... detail with which they attended to him. Having a personal maid, butler, and chef were one thing, but a personal toilet paper attendant was just going too far.

The title of Emperor as well, though rarely used outside of the most officacious of proceedings, also itched away at his conscience. It was a perfectly reasonable title for one who ruled an empire (as much as one could call their one surviving city an empire) yet it still tasted too... Sombresque in his mouth. Even Prince Consort —for all its scandalous historical connotations— was an easier title to swallow.

After several minutes of navigating corridors (with a brief diversion to help an unfortunate maid who'd supplicated twenty feet straight down into a tasteful ficus) he arrived at Cadance's study. Rather, it was a parlor room that had been converted into a study. Sombra hadn't cared much for paperwork and the ruling aristocracy before him had much preferred hobnobbing with fellow nobility than civil engineers and accountants.

In the back of his mind he began to draft his plan of attack. First, open with a comment about the time. Then slide into a quip about her standing him up. Prepare a counter argument for her inevitably bringing up that one time he missed a date due to an O&O game. Counter-strike with a reminder of how little time they'd had together these past few months.

Yes, it was a perfect plan. Impenetrable from any angle.

Squaring up his shoulders and donning his best put out expression, he opened her door and stepped inside.

His target was not hard to spot. Cadance, Empress and co-savior of the Crystal Empire, was asleep at her desk, surrounded by a veritable fortress of papers, and blowing bubbles in a pool of spilled ink.

Whatever anger he may have had at being left out to dry quickly melted away into loving bemusement. How could he possibly stay mad at a sight like that?

Moving softly as to not wake her prematurely, Shining maneuvered across the room and around the desk to stand beside her. Even laying in a pool of drool and ink with mane tucked messily under her crown, she still had an undeniable charm about her.

A chainsaw-like snore ripped through the room, shredding the picturesque scene to confetti.

Shining smiled. Beautiful and kind as she was, it was the quirks and flaws that kept her equine.

Feeling mischievous, he leaned in and whispered to her. "Cady. Honeybun." She acknowledged him with a half-snort. He gave her horn the slightest of taps. "Hey, sleepyhead. You okay in there?"

She moaned and performed a half roll, freeing her lips from the ink but submerging some of her mane. "Shiny?" she muttered blearily before groaning. "Ugh… stick a fork in me, I'm done."

He chuckled and seized the opportunity presented. "I'd love to." He leaned in so closely his lips brushed the fuzz on her ear. "But maybe we should save that for the bedroom and not the middle of your study."

"Middle of... study? Study!" Cadance jolted to full wakefulness and promptly fell out of her chair. A quick flap of her wings brought her back to a standing position as her panicked brain struggled to connect where she was and what was going on. Her frantic gaze caught the clock on the wall.

"Aghh! Two-thirty already? I'm going to miss tea with Shiny!"

Before the aforementioned Shiny could say anything, Cadance lit her horn and vanished in a crack of sound and light. He waited one second for her to arrive. Three for her to catch her bearings, two to notice the staff, ten or so for them to explain where he'd gone, and on-

Cadance returned in another flash of light, looking thoroughly sheepish and apologetic.

"Good morning," Shining said, doing his level best to not giggle. "Have a nice nap?"

Cadance smiled weakly. Her lips were stained black with ink as was a long strip of her mane, giving her a look that would have earned her a lot of street cred with the Scene crowd if the Crystal Empire had one.

"I missed our Together Tea, didn't I? Again." She lowered her head, allowing the black streak to drape in front of her face. "Shiny, I'm so sorry. The meeting with the Chancellor this morning ran long and then there was a disagreement between the Head maids and then-"

Shining Armor quickly closed the gap between them, cutting off her waterfall of woe and embracing her with a comforting nuzzle. "It's fine, these things happen." A quick burst of magic from his horn easily removed the ink from her face and mane (much to the chagrin of Scene ponies everywhere who had just begun getting used to the idea of a Princess they could identify with). "But don't think that I'm not going to use this as part of my argument that you really need to learn how to delegate. That's one of the first things they taught us in command school; find the right pony for the right job."

"I know, I know. And I am trying, but there's still just so much that only I can do."

She collapsed back into her chair and grabbed a random stack of documents from the pile. "Take these for instance. Trade negotiations with Baron Cornbread."

"Cornbread?" Shining Armor repeated, "Out of Hayseed Swamp? Why would we trade with him? The Corn's are the very definition of a ruined noble family."

"Now, yes. But a thousand years ago, they were The Hayseeds and had a royal charter making them the Empire's sole supplier of Southern grain." She groaned and massaged her temples. "And despite a thousand years of inactivity, he still insists that the charter is valid and that we have to honor it. My argument that his family hasn't grown so much as a stalk of wheat in the three centuries since their land turned to swamp hasn't done much to deter him."

She set down the trade packet and picked up a stack of pages as thick as several reference books. "Then there's the proposals to modernize the Empire's education system. Most from the Equestrian Board of Education and a few others from notable scholars and experts, all of which I'll need to read through and cherry-pick what best fits the crystal ponies' needs."

She returned the stack to its place and in doing so, knocked over a pile of scrolls and letters. Shining Armor picked one up curiously. "What are all these?"

Cadance grimaced. "Would you believe that they're all marriage proposals from every two-bit lord and kingdom in a five nation radius who just knows that their son is the perfect and destined soulmate for Flurry Heart?" She glared at the stack like it was a rotting pile of particularly distasteful fish. "And while I'd just love to post them all to Twilight for her 'Parchments of the World' collection and forget about them, I'm still going to have to write a formal and tactful refusal to each."

Shining found himself both stumped and shocked. He knew that running the empire was a big task, but surely she could have hoofed some of the work over to him. A wave of shame flooded his system. To think that he'd been getting angry over a missed tea party like some spoiled filly when Cadance was across the castle trying to carry the whole nation on her withers. Desperately, he tried to remember some project or idea that might still hold some glamour for her. Something that could respark the passion for princesshood she'd felt back when she'd first accepted the authority to rule.

At last, it came to him. "How about the cultural projects?" he asked, perhaps too eagerly, "How have they been doing?"

To his dismay, this only caused her to sink further into her seat.

"Terrible," she moaned, "The worst of the lot. I thought that helping them restore what they had before Sombra would help give them all something familiar to cling to in these strange new times. And yet, they all seem so eager to throw away any trace of old empire's customs and traditions. At the same time, they're adapting to modern Equestrian values far faster than either I or Aunt Celestia thought they would. It's like they’re purposefully trying to forget their past as quickly as possible."

With a deep sigh, she sat up. "I know that the crystal ponies need to change to fit in with the modern world and they know it too, but I don't want their own culture to disappear. It's like they're refusing to acknowledge that the dark years under Sombra —and even the good years before those— ever happened. They're trying to use modernity as an excuse to snuff out their own history. And I just don't know what to do about it."

Shining was silent for a moment. What could he say in response to that? Only one thing came to mind.

"You need a vacation."

She snorted in amusement. "Princesses don't get a vacation."

"Technically, you're an Empress," he corrected with a grin, "And since I don't see any others around, I think it's up to you to set the precedent for what you can and can't do."

Cadance had to admit, he made a very sound argument. Perhaps it was the endless hours of paperwork or the pressure of having to play mother to both her actual daughter and several thousand other ponies, but she was tired. Sick and tired. Being a princess on its own was a challenge, but being a princess with almost no bureaucracy or infrastructure was a nightmare. Oh what she'd give for an excuse to take some time off. She didn't even need much; just a few days to get away from all the endless chambers of blue crystal and do something that didn't involve either signing parchment or changing nappies.

As though some cosmic force had decided to answer her prayer, at that exact moment Sunburst burst into the room, cape akimbo and lungs heaving.

"Your highnesses! I've found something extraordinary! You've got to come to the library right away!"

With a feat of agility quick remarkable for a bookworm, he made a hairpin turn on one hoof and dashed back out.

Silently, Cadance thanked her lucky stars for the intervention and yet, at the same time, she also worried that her errant wish may have just opened Pandormare's Box.

The only way to find out would be to follow her Court Wizard back to his library.

And so, for good or ill, follow she did.

“Tell me Princess, have you ever heard the tale of Darkened Peridot?”

“I can’t say I have.” In all honesty, when it came to the Crystal Empire’s history before Sombra, her knowledge consisted mainly of broad strokes. Periods of peace, periods of war. A hooful of particularly notable rulers. Learning more had been on her to-do list since becoming Empress; which was partially why she’d given Sunburst the task of combing through the royal archives.

“I’m not surprised. It’s not a tale most ponies know.”

Sunburst magically turned the pages of an ancient book with meticulous care. While the archives were filled with hundreds if not thousands of equally ancient tomes, this one in particular looked at though it might fall apart if someone breathed on it too hard. Cadance could scarcely imagine how many preservation charms were holding it together.

"Darkened Peridot was a great sorceress who lived several hundred years ago." He paused and shook his head. "Sorry, a thousand and several hundred years ago. It's easy to forget how old these books are. Anyway, Peridot was the Court Wizard of her era, back when the title had meaning and wasn't just ceremonial. Unfortunately, there's very little information about either her or the decades before and after she lived due to a terrible fire that ravaged the archives some years before Sombra's takeover." His gaze hardened. "Since I learned of the fire when you gave me this job, I've always suspected that he may have had something to do with it, but I could never find a reason why."

Cadence nodded, easily reading the flow of his clearly rehearsed speech. He was very much like a book himself. Or maybe she was just better at understanding ponies than she realized. "But now you have?"

He lit up like a Hearth's Warming tree, glowing with recognition of his efforts. "Yes! Yes I have! This book," he gestured to it, careful not to touch the pages with his hooves, "is the journal of Gleaming Spinel, the court jester at the time. But not only that, she was also Darkened Peridot's sister."

"As interesting as discovering old history is," said Shining, not cruelly but just firmly enough to keep the scatter-brained magician on track, "Why is it so important and what does it have to do with Sombra?"

"Ah, right, yes." Sunburst pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "You see, according to this, Darkened Peridot was the pony who actually created the Crystal Heart."

"What?!" Both Cadance and Shining cried at same time.

"Somepony made it?" Cadance continued.

"Well, yes. Not to be rude, but did you think it had just been around forever? Everything has to come from somewhere, your highness."

That was undeniably true. No matter how old something was, it had to come from somewhere. Long forgotten artisans had built Canterlot, but built it they had. The Elements of Harmony were made by ancient heroes. Even Princess Celestia must have been born at some point. It just wasn't something one tended to think about.

"And that's not even the most interesting part," Sunburst said eagerly, "Spinel wasn't involved in the process, so she only has secondhoof information, but she very distinctly states that the Crystal Heart is meant to be part of a set of seven."

"Seven Crystal Hearts?" Shining asked. Already possibilities were blossoming in his mind. Ancillary cities, likewise shielded from the Great Northern Storm. Expansion had never been something he'd considered since taking his royal position, but now...

"No," said Sunburst, shooting down Shining's expansionist dreams, "Seven different crystal artifacts. All designed to work together for some larger purpose that she didn't know." He lit his horn, and three illusory shapes began to form in the air. "She only knew what Peridot told her, so I've only found information about three of the other crystal relics." His projections were mere silhouettes, but their shapes were clear. A tiara, a staff, and a horn. "The Crystal Diadem, the Crystal Scepter, and the Crystal Flugelhorn. Together with the Crystal Heart, they made up slightly more than half of the full set."

He let the image vanish after a moment. “I’m not sure exactly what they were supposed to do, but if any one of them were as powerful as the Crystal Heart, it makes sense that Sombra would try to destroy any information about them. He wouldn’t want a power like that used against him.”

“I’d think he’d want to use them himself,” Shining countered, “That’s what I would do.”

“True, but you see, they’re not here.” He carefully closed Spinel’s journal and walked around the table to join them. “Parts of the journal are illegible, but it seems like the artifacts were scattered across Equestria for some reason. No one knows where they are.”

Like the seizing pressure just before cardiac arrest, Cadance was struck by a sudden force. Not a blow or an impact, but the sudden and arresting awareness of opportunity. She spun her husband around and to face her, a wide grin on her face. “Shiny, do you realize what this is?’

“Uh… yes?” he wheezed without confidence.

She ignored his wavering spirit. “Shiny, this is exactly what I need! What better way to get the Crystal ponies motivated in recovering their lost history than literally recovering pieces of their lost history? It’s perfect!”

Finally noticing Shining Armor’s gasping, she freed him from her crushing grip. Alicorn strength could easily run out of control when she got too excited. “It’s a quest, Shiny! Just like in your O&O games. Find the lost ancient relics and revitalize the citizens!” Her gaze fell to the wayside as she tried to sound nonchalant. “And if it needs me to take a bit of time away from the Empire to travel across the country to strange and exotic locations, facing down danger and excitement, then I suppose there’s nothing we can do about that.”

Shining Armor smiled at his wife’s enthusiasm. It was uplifting to see her out of the funk from earlier. Which made what he had to say next all the harder. “Cady… I see where you’re coming from, but we can’t just go gallivanting off on a cross country mission at the drop of a hat. Somepony has to be here and run day-to-day operations. And besides, we wouldn;t even know where to start.”

“Actually,” Sunburst cut in, once again pushing up his glasses, “I do think I know where one of them is.”

“See? We’re already off to a great start!”

Shining Armor looked at his wife. Really looked at her. When was the last time he’d seen her eyes so bright? Or her hooves dance in place like she just couldn’t stay still? Royal obligations and parental commitments aside, what kind of husband would he be to tarnish that?

“Alright,” he said at last, giving Cadance a determined smile, “Let’s do it.”

“Really?”

“Really. Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll take care of everything here in the Empire, you go and find our lost relics.”

She smiled. Genuinely. Warmly. The smile he’d fallen in love with. “Have I told you I love you, Shining Armor?”

“Everyday,” he replied.

She landed a peck on his cheek and turned to face her Court Wizard —no, her mission handler. “So! Where am I off to? Where’s the first relic? In a mysterious dungeon in the depths of the Badlands? No, buried in a sunken ship in the East Lunar sea? How about locked in a criminal family’s safehouse in Las Pegasus?”

“Actually, the first one is a lot closer to home, and hopefully you’ll be able to find out more while you’re there.” He cast another illusion, this time of a castle she knew all too well. “According to the book, the Crystal Diadem was gifted to Princess Luna.”

The Trial of the Diadem

The Royal Vaults were not the kind of place an individual would wish to spend their free time, excepting perhaps truly dedicated scholars, undead, and mimics.

As far as scholars went, only three had the necessary clearance to access these lowest levels; one was retired and two were in Ponyville. Undead had been banned in Canterlot since the Great Uprising of '64, and mimics had been driven to extinction by Princess Celestia nearly seven hundred years ago (or so was the official story. It wouldn't surprise Cadance one bit to learn that the Princess had kept a few around down here for security. Time and time again she'd seen Celestia use her favorite tactic of defeating an ancient evil, keeping a part of its power on hoof or in her service, and in the event that it finally escapes or rises up, use it at a lesson or test. That was how Candace's fifteenth birthday party had turned into an impromptu education about how to out-lawyer a high demon with more than just her birthday presents on the line.)

As it stood, the only ponies who descended the long spiral staircase into the depths of the mountain were Princess Luna, a pair of her Night Guards, and Cadence herself. Among them, only Luna seemed pleased to be there, skipping down the damp steps sometimes two at a time.

"I must say, I am rather glad you came and asked to see my vaults, young Cadance." The pep in her step was not lacking from her voice. "In truth, with all the chaos and adjustment since my return, I had practically forgotten them myself!"

Cadance lowered her head, mostly so she wouldn't hit it on a low-hanging torch bracket again. "I feel like I should be thanking you. I never imagined that I'd be able to recover the diadem so easily." Not that she'd say it aloud, but it was actually something of a disappointment. When she started her journey that morning on the train, she'd been expecting to find more adventure than simply going up and asking for the artifact like a foal at a library.

"It is no trouble. While I did not know Darkened Peridot personally, I knew of and respected her abilities as an enchantress. It would be a waste for her talents to lay mouldering away, unused and forgotten."

They arrived at the lowest level, deep within the bowels of Mt. Canter. The floor was a solid piece of unblemished obsidian that reflected the torchlight in odd ways and made it seem like they walked across pure void. The walls were the natural unhewn stone of the mountain itself which made Cadance think this chamber had once been a natural cave. Aside from the walls and floor, the only other landmark of note was The Door.

It was the kind of door that could only be spoken of in capital letters. Made of wide timber planks and braced with bars of rune-covered silver and iron, it looked more like it should have been defending a castle keep from siege rather than sleeping untouched underground. It made the mind wonder what kind of things was it designed to keep out. Or in.

"What do you think?" Luna asked eagerly, her eyes sparkling, "I designed the place myself, though I regret that few have ever had the chance to see it. I was trying for a very imposing minimalist theme to make intruders feel small and powerless."

"You've... certainly succeeded at that." Cadance agreed. Just standing in the vault's antechamber was making her fur stand on end. Something about how neither light nor sound seemed to bounce back properly. She thanked her lucky stars that Chrysalis hadn't found this place when looking for a cave to lock her in.

Luna beamed at the praise. "Wonderful! I'm so glad you think so. Though in confidence," she leaned in conspiratorially, "the budget ran short near the end so I stole one of Celestia's warded doors from our old castle."

Now that she mentioned it, upon peering closer Cadance noticed that the center crossband was inscribed with the phrase: Hall of Arcane Research and Enigmatic Mysticism. Entry forbidden without express permission of the Sovereign of the Sun.

She decided, for the sake of her mental health, to leave that particular mystery alone.

Luna approached the door like an old friend. "Just a moment and I'll have us inside. I cannot wait to see what of my old possessions have survived my absence! My preservation spells are second to none!"

Reaching the door, she slid aside a false panel cleverly hidden within the woodwork to reveal a curious decoration.

A dozen hoof-sized gemstones, cut into curved disks and inset into the door. There was a hint of magic in them; a lattice that wove through the door itself and connected to something within the vault, beyond magical sensing.

Luna tapped the stones in a seemingly random order and then waited.

Nothing happened.

Frowning, she tried again, changing the order slightly.

Again, nothing.

Once more, this time a completely different order. In response, a pea-sized ruby protruding above the others glowed, briefly casting those present in crimson hue.

Luna turned around, her face red from more than just the ruby’s light. She gave her guards a look and cleared her throat. Dutifully, they folded their ears shut.

"It would seem," she said stiffly, almost reluctantly, "that I have forgotten my password."

"Your password?" Cadance allowed her expression to droop, but internally she was delighted. Finally! A challenge to properly start her quest! "So we can't get inside?"

"Oh no, that is easily done." With a blue flash from her horn, a loud clunking noise resounded from within the vault. The door swung open, splitting cleanly on invisible seams. "However, without my password, I am unable to deactivate the traps."

"Traps?" Cadance asked, doing her best to hide her excitement, "Why would there be traps in your personal vault?"

The princess hesitated before responding. "When the vaults were being built, I was in the beginning stages of my... fall from grace. Not enough to influence me greatly, but enough still that I was growing suspicious of my sister and her intentions. In response, I installed certain security measures around areas I deemed private."

Her expression brightened and the guards seemed to take this as a signal to uncover their ears. "But worry not! I don't remember exactly what traps and spells I may have placed, but I am sure I was not so far gone as to include anything lethal. Probably. You may go ahead, if you wish, as I continue to try and remember the password out here." She gave Cadance an appraising look. "Before you go in though, you do share mine and my sister's alicorn durability, correct?"

Choosing not to dignify that with a response, Cadance stepped forward towards the open chamber. One way or another, she finally had what she was looking for. Adventure. A challenge. Something new and different to match herself against. And what a perfect setup it was. Dodging and disarming ancient traps in a forgotten treasure room. It couldn't be better if Shiny himself were DM-ing it for her himself.

As the adventurous alicorn crossed the threshold, she felt a slight tingle in her horn and wings. Maudite. The walls were lined with it. Without direct contact it couldn't fully block her magic, but even then the sheer amount in near proximity was enough to limit her to simple spells only.

A clever opening move. In one easy step, paranoid past-Luna had disabled a large share of potential intruders and seriously hampered the rest. Excellent. She didn't want it to be too easy.

She kept one eye on the ceiling and one on the floor as she made her way deeper in, wary of both tripwires and falling nets. Just because the traps were "probably nonlethal" didn't mean they were "probably safe."

The vault and its contents were nothing like she'd expected. The main vaults on the higher levels (Celestia's, that is) were arranged more like a museum, filled with cursed tomes bound in chains to pedestals alongside mysterious arcane artifacts isolated behind layers of enchantments. Contrastingly, Luna's vault looked more like a warehouse filled with shelves and racks of knick-knacks and weapons. There was an occasional book or piece of jewelry, but they were given no special place above anything else. Halfway across the room, the stone floors turned to carpet —a rather expensive-looking one at that— made in old Eastern Unicorn Empire style. Easily worth a small fortune for its historic value alone. It almost seemed a shame to walk on it, yet she did anyway for it was the only way forward.

That is, until it suddenly gave way under her hooves.

Cadance suddenly found herself with an awful lot of time to think as adrenaline made time slow down. A pitfall. She'd been deceived by the oldest trick in the book. Not even a proper magical trap, literally just a hole in the ground with a cover over it. How could she have been so foolish as to not see it? Had her hubris truly been so great that while scanning for all forms of magic, she'd failed a most basic check of her surroundings? She was a shame to Celestia's teachings.

Then again, these traps were meant for Celestia, weren't they? So perhaps, rather than failing to follow the instructions as she'd been taught, she followed them a little too closely. That made her feel slightly better about everything. Still, either way, it didn't change the fact that she was falling. Though not for very much longer.

Cadance hit the bottom of the hole with a thud, winded but intact. Thank goodness for alicorn resilience.

She took stock of her situation as she rose. She was about four celestials deep (give or take a horn) in a pit just wide enough to stand in. Not much light reached the bottom, but there was just enough to make out a peppering of holes scattered across the sides. Maybe she could use them as hoofholds to climb out?

Before she could consider an attempt, something began to emerge from them.

Cadance coughed as something heavy and gritty poured through holes in the wall, quickly burying her up to her barrel. Was she going to be buried alive? Was that the true nature of this trap? Before she could come to terms with that thought, the holes switched to expelling a thick sludge. Had the grit only been a restraint to hold her as she drowned? Not one to let her dwell on a thought too long, the sludge stopped at neck depth and was replaced by an oppressive heat. She was immediately reminded all too clearly of the one time she'd tried to fly over a volcano.

The heat was intense, sweltering so, but apparently not enough to ignite either her fur or the sludge, which thickened rapidly as it shifted and mixed with the grit.

After what felt like ages, but was only mere moments, the heat dissipated. Her struggling and the heat had done something to the slurry, firming it into a full-body prison that allowed only the slightest of movements. Thankfully her head was still clear, but she was well and truly trapped now.

“Cadence?” she heard a voice call from above. “Are you alright? I remembered the password, so it should be safe now. Where are you?”

“Down here!” she yelled back. While she hadn’t really been worried about the trap (it’s creator was standing only a few paces away, after all) the unexpected immobilization and denial of her magic was still more than a little unnerving. After a few seconds, she felt the familiar tingle that came with being carried in somepony else’s magic field. Slowly, the circle of light above her grew larger and larger as she reached the surface.

The first thing she saw upon exiting the pit was the Lunar Guards. Despite their strict code of professional stoicism, both looked completely gobsmacked. Even Luna failed to reign in her surprise as she lowered Cadence to stable ground. Neither reaction filled her with confidence and she finally began to feel a slight edge of fear.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, “Why can’t I move? What’s happened to me?” Notes of panic colored her voice. What in the world had the ancient magics done to her?

Rather than answering, Luna responded by manifesting a mirror. Moments later, Cadence’s expression matched the others’.

She was... a treat.

More accurately, a cake.

To be even more precise, she had been baked into a cake.

“I… what?”

Luna coughed, her face blushing furiously. “I do believe I remember what the triggers for the traps were now. In my defense, it was made to detect foreign alicorn magic and, at the time, there was only one other alicorn to consider.”

Cadance barely heard her. The cake was creamy-white and fluffy and encased her entire body like a giant minotaur's fist, leaving only her hoof- and wing-tips free (along with her head, of course). She vaguely resembled a foal wearing a very elaborate costume for a school play, ready to waddle onstage to recite some stilted poem about baked goods. Encircling her neck was text written in vivid yellow icing, though the words were unfamiliar to her.

"What does that say?" Cadance craned her neck for a better angle but the spongy cake held her tight. "I can't read it."

"I am not surprised, as it is in Old Ponish. It reads..." Luna stopped mid-sentence, her eyes going wide as they scanned the iced words. "Oh my. I really was quite juvenile back then."

"What? What does it say?"

"Roughly translated, it reads Behold the Glorie of ye Sun! Our flanks art so Thick and Fattened from Sweetmeats that We hast become what We et."

Silence reigned in the vault.

And then Cadance giggled.

She chuckled and chortled and soon fell into a deep belly laugh. The tension defused instantly as the others joined in. And it was funny, genuinely so. From the sheer inventive ridiculousness of the idea, to the fact that it clearly had never meant to be targeted at her, how could she find it as anything other than hilarious? Now if Celestia herself had been present to see it, that would have been a different story. But with the butt of the joke absent (and the discovery that certain popular punchlines existed across millennia), it was hard not to laugh at the sheer absurdity of it all.

“Hey, you two,” Cadance called out to the guards as best she could through her giggles. She slightly regretted not having learned their names. “You want to put those spears to work and cut me out of here?”

“An excellent idea,” Luna agreed. “Mothchaser. Lantern Light. Please free my niece from her caketivity. In the meantime, I will attempt to find our missing relic.”

With the careful use of their spears (and what little magical assistance Cadance could provide), the cake was quickly stripped down to servable portions. The guard known as Mothchaser tried a piece and declared it “surprisingly good, considering the thousand year old ingredients”. It was not long after that Luna returned with their prize (as well as a ratty old cloak she’d draped across her shoulders and a saddlebag filled with other memories).

The Crystal Diadem was a marvelous thing. It didn’t look like it had been carved, but rather grown out of living blue crystal. The design was deceptively simple, yet riddled with minute twists and interweavings that would take a master artisan to recreate. Topping it was a single large gem (rather, a portion of the larger whole shaped to look like a separately cut piece) cut in starburst style.

“I believe this is rightfully yours,” Luna said as she placed the diadem atop Cadance’s head. As its arms settled around her ears, Cadance felt the web of magic within it pulsing against her own. It was like having a small kitten on her head; constantly shifting and probing and making itself known.

“Thank you. I’ll do my utmost to use it to its full potential.” That being said, she still had no idea just what the Crystal Diadem was supposed to do. The Crystal Heart had been well-explained and straightforward, but this came with no manual whatsoever. And yet, she could feel its magic moving against her own. For whatever unknown purpose, it wanted to be used. Tentatively, she allowed a little magic to bleed into it. Not structured like a spell, just the unshaped energy.

Almost immediately she felt a drain as the imbued spell took what was necessary and surged to life. Six points of silvery-blue light burst from the center jewel. They formed into short beams that spun like an unsteady compass before settling into position, distributed unevenly around the gem. Two pointed roughly westward, while two more pointed south and southwest, one due north and the sixth a few degrees north of east.

“Of course!” Luna gasped, stepping closer. The longest of the beams passed through her hoof as though it wasn’t even there. “Now I remember! One of the Diadem’s functions is the ability to locate the other parts of the set in the event they are separated.”

Cadance's ears perked up at the sound of opportunity. Finding the artifacts was one thing, but even succeeding there brought them no closer to finding out their true history. How they worked, why they were made, and —possibly most important of all— what they actually did.

Luna could be a key factor in rectifying that. She'd been there at their conception, even if she hadn't been involved. If luck was on their side, she could be an invaluable resource in solving the mysteries surrounding the Crystal Relics.

"Do you remember what they were meant for?" Cadance pressed, "Or what any of the other ones did?"

"Not clearly." Luna shook her head, regret evident on her features. "My memories of those years are clouded with darkness. However, I fully intend to work with your wizard Sunburst on uncovering whatever we can. I too wish to see the Empire's history recovered and I hope that my memories and magical acumen can be of some aid."

Well, it was better than nothing. And she was more than willing to help (though Cadance had expected that much. Her darker Aunt's schedule was never exactly full).

Being encaked was not how Cadance had expected to start her adventure/vacation/historical-artifact-recovery tour, but it was nothing compared to some of the pranks Celestia's previous student before Twilight had pulled on her. Some of those made the cake look like, well, a cakewalk. But a little embarrassment was more than worth the reward. Not only had she succeeded in acquiring the second of seven artifacts, but also a font of helpful information about the others as well.

She had a roadmap now, a guidebook to her adventure to lead her exactly where she needed to go. All she had to do was follow the lights of her newest accessory.

Then again, this was also meant to be a vacation, so maybe it wouldn't hurt to take the long way there.

The Trial of the Scepter

'Such marvelous spellwork. Darkened Peridot was truly a mare ahead of her time.'

Cadance fought the urge to turn to her left where Luna's voice was coming from, since she knew there was nothing there save for the side of the train. Smacking her muzzle into the rail three times had been more than enough negative reinforcement to make the lesson stick.

‘Look at this bit here,’ came the voice of Sunburst on her equally-empty right side, 'Doesn't this look like a proto-version of the Farrier's Transform? That shouldn't be discovered for another three hundred years!’

'Indeed Truly a genius.'

"Sunburst, Aunt Luna," Cadance said quietly. There was a certain trick to talking with ponies hundreds of miles away while also not looking like a madmare talking to herself on a train. Cadance did not quite have the knack, and thus had the surrounding four rows of seats to herself. This helpfully also solved the problem that had created it. "Not that I mind listening to you two discuss magical theory, but it's hard to focus when you keep making visual references that I can't see."

'Oh! Right! Sorry Princess,’ the ghostly voice of Sunburst apologized into her ear.

"It's fine, just keep me in mind."

A mare several seats away gave her a strange look and decided she'd be better off another two rows up.

As it turned out, the Diadem (and presumably the other artifacts) had another ability which Luna had been unaware of. Once they became magically activated, ponies with either artifact could communicate with each other over great distances. Thus, despite being on a west-bound train, Cadance could hear her Aunt and Wizard as easily as if she were standing around the Crystal Heart alongside them.

This did have the slight effect of making her look like she was talking to herself if she wasn't careful, but it was still a far more efficient method than traditional mail or even dragonfire post.

'Can you give me an update on your position?’

Back on the other side of the connection, Starburst spread out a map of Equestria across his makeshift workspace. The Crystal Heart hovered nearby (thanks to Princes Luna's skill with illusions, they could tinker with a national treasure in peace while a magical construct kept its pedestal warm), occasionally speaking in the voice of his sovereign.

'We just passed the border of Palomino Valley. Compass reading is...' Cadance paused, presumably to line up the compass' arrow with the beam of light emitted by her headgear, 'Seventy degrees North of west.'

Starburst determined that now was not a prudent time to inform her that the standard reading of that should have been twenty degrees West of North. He understood what she meant anyway. Taking a straightedge, he marked her position on the tracks and drew a thick line following the vector given by the Diadem. The spell didn't offer pinpoint accuracy, but as the ink of his quill intersected with three other lines, he had a pretty good idea where Cadance needed to go.

"Alright," he said as he consulted a copy of the train schedule. "You're going to need to get off two stops from now and take the Brass line North."

'More measurements?' her voice asked through the Heart, 'Or do I finally have a destination?'

"From what I gather," spoke Luna as she took in the map and circled where the lines intersected, "Your destination is set. Though I fear to send you to such a den of iniquity and vice."

'Don't tell me it's back in the Canterlot Nobles' District?'

"No, but I'm sure you'll spot plenty of nobles there easily enough. You're headed to Las Pegasus."

Cadance had never before been to Las Pegasus.

It wasn't that she hadn't wanted to —what foal doesn't want to go to the playground in the sky after they hear about it?— but rather circumstances had always seemed against it.

For one thing, it was well known that Princess Celestia was not exactly fond of the place. Though she strove to remain fair and impartial in all her rulings, she was still just a pony, and small biases always managed to creep into her opinions. Whether the cause was the addicting habits the city promoted, its heightened crime rate, or the fact that half of the alumnal body of her magic school had been banned at some point or another, no one could say. In any event, it was not the sort of place she'd been eager for a young and impressionable princess-to-be to visit.

Time and again she had attempted to pass laws and reforms restricting the viceful city, and time after time they'd been voted down. This was partially due to it being such a powerful economic hub —not to mention an international tourist hotspot— Las Pegasus wielded political clout equal to cities twice its age and size. Not to mention it had the backing of no shortage of nobles, both young and old alike.

It was thus with fresh eyes that Cadance took in Equestria's premier hotspot for gambling, nightlife, and exotic entertainment.

From the neon-lit towers in the everlasting twilight beneath the clouds, to the family-friendly theme parks and hotels that topped them, the city radiated pleasure and grandiosity like a fat noble turned stone and cloud.

It was also excessively large. Worryingly so. With as many buildings as Canterlot packed into a footprint as small as Ponyville, even with a magic aid pointing her in the right direction Cadance started to worry how she’d ever find the next relic. Especially when her research team still didn’t know what it looked like.

“Where to start in a city this big,” Cadance asked into a large sheet of paper that intentionally obscured most of her vision. She’d bought herself a map —for an purse-gougingly excessive fifteen bits— so that, as long as she phrased herself correctly, her comments to her home base would look less like a crazy mare and more like somepony just distractedly thinking out loud.

'I'm not sure we'll be able to help you much,' Starburst said, 'I don't have any maps of the city.'

'I may have an idea,' Luna suggested, 'Do they still teach Spell Shock's Caster Coordinator?'

Cadance frowned. She recognized the spell, if by name only, though not from her magic classes. "Isn't that a military spell?"

'Indeed. But its usefulness extends far beyond mere combat. In the field, if one had good knowledge of another spellcaster's magic, it allowed commanders to easily locate and organize their battlemages even in the chaos of battle.'

Sunburst began making noises of confusion, but Cadance tuned him out, having already grasped her Aunt's meaning. Even if the Diadem was inaccurate at this distance, it was not the only way to track magic.

The Crystal Empire's unique brand of emotion-based magic was not an inherent ability of their race. Anyone could learn it with enough time and focus. However that did not mean that it was easy. Most ponies would find it difficult to focus on and absorb themselves in a single pure emotion at a time, rather than experience the gambit of multi-faceted emotion they were used to.

Suffice to say, there were very few sources, let alone practitioners, outside of the Empire itself.

While her advisers continue to bicker at the edge of her hearing, Cadance found an unoccupied bench, sat down, and closed her eyes.

Perhaps she was biased being born a pegasus, but Cadance was of the belief that a pegasus gaining a horn was a much more profound change than a unicorn gaining wings.

Not that she was disparaging wings —she'd owned and appreciated a pair of her own for many years, after all— but rather that it simply couldn't be compared to gaining magic. Gaining a horn was like acquiring both a new limb and a host of new senses all at once. Like putting on a pair of glasses and seeing all the colors and patterns she'd only glanced past before.

With wings, one gained the ability to fly and control the weather. But a horn offered so much more. There was a reason that there were advanced schools for unicorns and not pegasi. It was simply too much to figure out alone. Even after having a horn for nearly a third of her life, Cadance still sometimes forgot that magic was an option she could use.

She concentrated and tried to focus on her magic sense. It wasn't easy, but the spell resonated well with the Crystal Empire magic she'd worked so hard to cultivate.

Countless patches of magic lit up in her mind's eye, pulsing and shifting like afterimages from a bright light. One for each and every pony and magic item in the vicinity. Slowly, she tuned out the ones she knew were wrong. First the thrumming low notes of earth pony magic. Then the rapid, flighty pulses from the pegasi. Unicorn magic was trickier, far less uniform than the others, but with a bit of extra effort it too faded out.

This left her with only a few dozen signatures, opposed to the hundreds or even thousands she'd started with. Strange and unfamiliar magic from creatures visiting from afar, ancient magics in relics and antiques, and three signatures that held a familiar chill. She wasn't nearly skilled enough to identify them, but she'd lived long enough in the Crystal Empire to recognize its unique magic.

Now all she had to do was close in on the sources and identify which was a touristing pony and which was an ancient lost artifact.

As she dismissed her magesight, the light, noise, and above all smell of Las Pegasus came rushing back to her full force. She staggered for a moment before regaining her bearings. The path that had only a moment ago seemed so clear was once again clogged with bodies.

Maybe she'd have been better off putting in the effort in learning how to teleport after all.

The first two sources were a bust. One was a crystal pony who —unlike his mildly xenophobic brethren— had decided to venture forth and explore the new world of the future. The second was a unicorn who'd actually managed to learn crystal magic and was using it to cheat at cards to amplify his opponent's tells.

So it was with a mixture of relief and frustration that Cadance walked into a large plaza atop one of Las Pegasus's tallest cloud-levels. The voices chattering in either ear certainly didn't help.

'Yes, but there was a record of you receiving the Diadem. Las Pegasus wasn't even founded until well after the Empire was lost.'

'Which is exactly my point, if you'd just listen. It may only be in the city at the moment, perhaps as a family heirloom in the pocket of some noble or visiting dignitary.'

'A pocket?! Please excuse my tone, your highness, but what kind of logic is that? None of the artifacts we know of are remotely small enough to fit in a pocket, and-'

'That we know of. And that wasn't my point.'

Cadance did her best to ignore them as she scanned the plaza. It was close, wherever and whatever it was. It shouldn't be hard to spot. Assuming it followed the design pattern of the other two (and the Empire as a whole) it'd be something made of blue crystal.

'And another thing!'

"Aunt Luna, Sunburst," Cadance cut in. "I think I've found it."

Much like one of those optical illusion images popular in the back pages of foals comics, once she’d seen the hidden image, it was hard not to notice it. At the center of the plaza was a large fountain. In the center of the fountain stood the statue of an old stallion. Clutched in that stallion’s hoof, raised high to the sky, was a crystal rod, intricately carved, which practically glowed to the eye that knew what to look for.

“Well, that was easy. Now all I have to do is find who owns it so I can-”

“Princess Cadance!”

She flinched as a strikingly accented voice cut through the air. Never before had her own name felt so much like an icepick in her ears. Much to her dismay, it continued.

"Why, Princess Cadance, as I live and breathe! I have to say, I mean I have to say, it is an honor and a pleasure to have you visit my most humble establishment. If I had known you were coming, I'd have rolled right out the red carpet.”

The voice spilled into Cadance's ears like oil, pooled around her brain and oozed out the other side. She felt filthy for just having heard it. It took but a moment to turn and focus on the source of the contagion.

The stallion approached her with purposeful gait. It was less of a walk and more like any progress he made was an unintended side effect of thrusting himself forward with each step. His smile gleamed nearly as brightly as his mane, which was slicked and coiffed with enough grease to warrant a fire hazard. Every facet of his being oozed confidence and self-assuredness. It set Cadance's hackles to rising.

He bowed low as he reached her, far lower than royal courtesy called for. "Gladmane, owner and sole proprietor of this, I say, of this little slice of heaven.”

His tone sounded surprised and supplicant, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. Cadance regarded him carefully. Whatever his game, she would have to tread cautiously. "Mister Gladmane. Thank you for your welcome. It's a pleasure to be here."

"I assure you, your highness, the pleasure is mine." He smiled, and Cadance felt that the upkeep of his teeth alone probably kept most of the local dentists in business. She could almost see her reflection in them. "I apologize for the lack of a proper reception. Somepony on my staff must have mislaid the announcement of your impending arrival."

With every word Cadance was growing to like this Gladmane less and less. He was neither a noble nor a salespony yet somehow managed to embody the worst traits of each.

“Never mind it,” she bluffed, “These things happen. And I’ve appreciated being able to walk the streets unaccompanied for a time.” A sneaky thought occurred to her. It wasn’t the most… princessly of actions, but up against a stallion like this, she felt justified. “Though now that you’re here, perhaps there is a way you could be of service.”

A small glint of irritation flashed in his eyes for a moment before vanishing. Good, she wanted him off his game. All the more advantage it’d give her. “Why, anything for a princess of Equestria.” He paused. “Or, I suppose, would that be the Crystal Empire now?”

“Both titles apply,” she said smoothly. Rule number one of Celestia’s guide to dealing with troublesome nobles: Don’t let them forget who's in charge. She looked down her nose and made a point to overemphasize her words as royally as possible. “I find myself taking an interest in this statue. Perhaps you could tell me about it.”

She didn’t like taking this kind of attitude, but he was clearly a stallion who wasn’t going to help out of the goodness of his heart.

“That? Why, that’s Gladmane the first, my great-grandpappy. He was there when they were first carving the beginnings of a town outta this strip of land. Built one of the first casinos as well.”

“How interesting,” she lied. “And such a well-made likeness as well. Though the scepter seems to clash with the rest.”

“You’ve a keen eye, Princess,” Gladmane smirked, “Let me tell you, that’s no ordinary hunk of crystal. My great-grandpappy won that off an old buffalo shaman in a game of cards; the very same game in which he won the land on which he built his first casino. Used it as collateral to get his first construction loans. Even at the time it was considered unfathomably old.”

She weighed her options. She could always just demand that he hand it over. Claim it in the name of the preservation of national history. Very few ponies wouldn't crumble before a royal edict. But what kind of precedent would that be setting? Did she really want to be known as the kind of princess who forced ponies to give up family heirlooms (questionable transaction histories notwithstanding)? And Gladmane was clearly a pony with connections. The kind of pony who would talk, at length, about his meeting with a princess. No matter how it went.

The only way to win this encounter would be if Gladmane chose to give up the Scepter of his own free will.

Cadance was reminded suddenly of a mare she’d once known well. Somepony who she’d been far from friends with, but from whom she’d unintentionally learned quite a good deal. Her methods weren’t the cleanest, but given the circumstances, she felt it was her only chance at success.

"Let me ask you, Gladmane, are you a gambling stallion?"

He smiled, once again showing far too many teeth. "Hard to make a living in this business and not be."

She nodded. "Of course. Now, given the knowledge that that staff is immeasurably old, of uncertain history, and made of a rather particular blue crystal, what would you say the odds are that it came from the Crystal Empire?"

His smile did not diminish. If anything it grew wider. "Why, I hadn't thought of that! To think my family owned such a prestigious piece of history." He chuckled throatily. "I can imagine such a thing would belong in a museum, and I'd be happy to donate it to the Crown. Though, of course, I would expect my family to be suitably compensated for the loss of such valued, dare I say iconic, heirloom."

"I wasn't finished," Cadance interrupted, her voice hard, "Given the circumstances, what do you think the are odds that it's one of Sombra's Dark relics?"

The smile froze on his face and his cocky posture cracked slightly. "...Come again?"

"Sombra's Dark artifacts," she repeated as though he were hard of hearing, "Enchanted crystals he left behind in order to lock his soul to this plane and aid in his resurrection attempts."

'Is this true? Why wasn't I informed?' Thankfully, Luna had apparently learned the value of whispering so Cadance could barely hear her (and Gladmane certainly couldn't).

'I think she's making it up.'

Sunburst was only half right. While she was spouting bald-faced lies, the concept itself she was glibly cribbing from one of Shining Armor's roleplaying campaigns. The fictional lich's actions fit Sombra's tactics surprisingly well, so long as Cadance remembered to call him Sombra and not Harold the Necromancer.

She stepped closer to Gladmane, taking full advantage of her height to loom over him like a specter of doom (which was not an easy feat with a coat the color of cotton candy).

He loosened the collar of his rhinestoned jacket, for what little benefit it did him. "I- I hadn't, I say I hadn't heard anything about that, y-your highness."

"Of course you wouldn't have," she said airily, channeling the pomp and tone of the haughty noble mares from high school, "this is all hypothetical. I'm only asking about probabilities, after all. For instance, the probability of a princess showing up, unannounced, to a city known to be disliked by Celestia solely for the purpose of pleasure compared to the probability of an alicorn traveling incognito in order to gather up dark artifacts without raising a panic. I wonder what the odds of those might look like?"

He was sweating now. A greasy lock of mane melted free from it's wax-like encasement and hung limply across his brow.

What was this strange power that Cadance felt coursing through her veins? This empowering sense of... superiority as the proud stallion squirmed beneath her gaze? To have to have somepony trapped in the frog of her hoof... was this what her old rival had felt like all the time? No wonder she'd gone off the deep end and disappeared. Such power was... intoxicating.

But she had a mission to focus on. That, and the knowledge that she had two ponies listening in, helped her reel herself in. Now she just had to do the same to Gladmane.

"To find a family that had been harboring one of these artifacts for generations, well, you can imagine how poorly that might look for them." She smiled and shifted back to her usual tone. "But I think I've spent more than enough time talking about hypotheticals. What were we talking about before? Something about a donation to the Crown?"

Almost before she had finished speaking, Gladmane's mane lit up from within with a vivid yellow. A cracking noise caught her ear and she looked up to see the foreleg of the statue —and the staff it held— fracture off the rest and float down in a similarly canary aura.

"Take it!" he insisted, practically shoving the staff into her grip. "Great-grandpappy will understand. Good of Equestria and all that. I-If you'll excuse me, I think I just remembered some urgent business I need to attend to."

With a speed that belied his stoutness, he scampered away. Cadance regarded the Crystal Scepter. Much like the Diadem she could feel the spellwork within it, reacting slightly to her magic. It was the genuine article for sure.

"I thought he was going to take a bit more intimidation, but I guess this works too."

'Excellently done, Cadance.' Luna's praise carried through the air, 'I never would have thought you so skilled in using the weight of your station to your advantage. My sister is apparently quite the teacher.'

Cadance shook her head (not that Luna could see it), with a wan smile. "I didn't learn that from Princes Celestia. I was just... channeling somepony I knew. She wasn't the nicest pony, but she was amazing at getting her way and getting things done.'

'It is a tough lesson, knowing when to apply force and when to concede control. One you seem to be learning well.'

With that thought in mind, Cadance turned and headed back towards the train station, lost artifact in tow.

Three down, four to go.

Meanwhile, back in his office, Gladmane watched her leave through tinted windows. He slicked back his mane into his preferred style, making sure the horn beneath was perfectly concealed. Gone was his sweating nervousness from earlier, wiped away as easily as one of his performers' makeup. Once he was sure the princess had left, he tapped the office-to-office intercom on his desk.

“Miss Polk Salad? Set up a meeting with my lawyer. Tell him that that one troublesome clause in grandpappy's will is no longer in play. Mhm. Royal intervention. Dark magic, apparently. Also send a message to Beady Marble, tell him I want a new sculpture for the plaza. Gold-leafed this time, no, solid gold. I can do a posing Wednesday so I want it done by Sunday. No, make it Thursday; I wanna meet with my tailor first to get a new suit and cape for the occasion. Thank you, thank you very much.”

Releasing the button, Gladmane chuckled and leaned back in his chair. “Oh princess, you have no idea how much of a favor you’ve just done me. I’ll have to pay that back someday. Maybe I’ll lift the ban on her sister-in-law.” He paused and remembered the last (and only) time his establishment had been visited by the Princess of Math. He flinched at the memory. “No. No, I think that may be going a bit too far.”

Author's Note

This one really fought me. He kept evolving into a really complex and clever character. Had to struggle to not spiral into a whole extra tangent story-line.

The Trial of the Flugelhorn

If Cadance were to describe the Dragonlands in one word, that word would be 'craggy'.

Or possibly 'barren'.

'Inhospitable' was also a contender.

Given the option, she'd prefer to petition to be allowed to use at least a few sentences to do it justice. No one word could properly capture the rock-strewn landscape, pitted with craters and crevices, where actively flowing volcanos were more common than trees.

Still, it wasn't all bad. The constant updrafts made flying a breeze; she could practically glide the whole trip.

All in all, not the worst spot for a vacation. If you didn't mind the eternally oppressive dry heat and could handle the constant presence of dragons.

Had she mentioned dragons among her single-word-descriptions? Because there were dragons. Lots of dragons.

Young dragons fighting over gems or pride or nothing at all. Old dragons slumbering the years away. Scales in enough colors and patterns to give Darwhinny an aneurism.

Most stayed down below on the ground, going about their business without ever noticing her flying by. The few that did either didn't care about a pony in their lands, or at least weren't personally concerned by her presence.

The other great thing about being alone in the sky was not having to worry about her long-distance conversations being overheard.

"I'm just saying, he may have been a great warrior back in his day, but things have changed since then. Tactics have evolved, and Shining Armor was the top of his class in the Academy."

"Bah," an aged voice replied from countless leagues away, "Tactics are all well and good, but at the end of the day there's no trumping Rockhoof's raw physical strength. So long as he retains the stamina to keep fighting, he could outlast anything your husband could throw at him."

"Starswirl?" Sunburst's voice cut in, "If you don't mind, we're having a little trouble translating this section here. It doesn't make any sense in context."

"Hm? What? Let me see that, lad." There was a sound of ruffling paper (not that that hadn't been a backdrop to their whole conversation thus far) before he spoke again. "Aha, I see the trouble. This character here is smudged. That's a grinott, not a syllph. So the phrase refers to an individual, not a region."

"Of course! That makes so much more sense now! Thank you!"

"My pleasure, dear boy. Now, where were we?"

Cadance chuckled. "I think we got off topic quite a while ago. Are you sure we're not inconveniencing you with all this work?"

She could almost imagine she could hear the bells of his hat jingling as he shook his head (he'd cast a silencing charm after realizing how distracting they were to the other researchers). "Quite the contrary. It has been many years since I've been able to do the proper work of a scholar. In fact, this is assuredly just what I would I have spent my time doing had I not turned to adventuring. Recovering and restoring ancient documents. It's truly a pleasure to get back to my roots."

Cadance shrugged and adjusted the course of her flight to keep the arrow of light straight ahead. It seemed to diminish as she got closer, but it was still just long enough that she could see it if she crossed her eyes. Again she was thankful that there was no one around; especially the paparazzi ponies.

Suddenly, a thundering boom nearly knocked her out of the sky. She instinctively tried to reel away from the noise, but such an action wasn't easy when the sound was coming from her crown. She fell through the air, her body twisting against the wind as she tried to regain her bearings. At the last second she managed to snap out her wings and turn the freefall into a sharp glide that set her down near the base of a craggy plateau.

"What in the world was that?!" The rumble of crumbling stone and panicked voices came from all around and she wished that the Diadem carried across more than just sound. "Somepony answer me! Is everyone alright?"

"We're fine, your highness," Starswirl replied, coughing slightly. "Everyone is in one piece. As to the noise... I have good news and bad news."

Her heart tensed. "The good news?"

He cleared his throat. "We've had something of a breakthrough. It seems that the Crystal Heart functions quite well as a power source for the Scepter. This supports the theory that they were designed to be used in tandem."

"And the bad news?"

It was a moment before Sunburst answered for him. "...How do you feel about natural lighting in the East Wing? Or something like a very open-floor plan?"

Cadance sighed and allowed the tension to drain from her body. If he could crack jokes like that, then it couldn't be too bad. Certainly it couldn't be worse than Flurry Heart's accidental magic sneezes (though Luna had once threatened to classify giving the baby pepper as a declaration of war).

"Alright, just confirm nopony is injured and please... be careful."

"Will do, Princess."

She focused her magic back into the Diadem, its tracking spell having faded as she lost focus during her unexpected dive. "Oh! Looks like I have some good news as well."

"Hm? What's that?" Starswirl's voice cut in over the chatter of ponies asking each other if they were alright. "Have you found the next relic?"

"Not quite, but I think I've narrowed it down to a single mountain." She paced back and forth a few steps, watching as the line of light twitched to continue pointing inward. "I think it must be hollow."

"Excellent! See if you can find a way inside; a natural cave, perhaps. If you are lucky, this relic won't be posing much trouble at all."

Cadance was just about to chide the old wizard for tempting fate when her stomach dropped at the sound of a rather angry and very reptilian-sounding shout.

Cadance was at an impasse. Several, actually.

The first impasse was gold, and in one of the few instances in history, the problem stemmed from an abundance of the substance rather than a shortage of it. Gold surrounded her on all sides, an ocean of coinage that rose to mountainous peaks. She could always fly up, but that way held no exit either; just a mass of stalactites.

The second impasse was one of wills, stemming from the smoking hot dragoness that sat across the low table from her.

Smoking hot, that is, in the sense that she was so ticked off that actual smoke escaped her breath in small angsty puffs and the very air around her shimmered with heat.

Cadance crunched on her stick of mica, hiding her reaction behind a cool façade as shards ground to dust, mixed with saliva into a thick sludge, and glooped its way down her throat. Supposedly this was the one type of crystal soft enough for pony teeth (or alicorn teeth, at least) locally available. Not that that did anything to help its terrible chalky taste or the fact that it was still, in every respect, a rock.

Still better than some of the other ethnic foods she'd stomached for the sake of foreign ambassadors, though.

Across the table, her partner had no difficulty chowing down on much harder rocks, tossing back rubies and onyx flakes like they were candies. To her, maybe they were.

"You must tread carefully," Luna whispered in her ear, "Dragons value strength, so once you choose a stance you must not waver. Approach too softly and she will dismiss you as weak. Too strong, and she may never agree to even the most beneficial terms out of spite."

"Also," Sunburst's reedy voice cut in with his nervous waver, "Please remember that she is the equivalent to a Princess of her people. If things go badly it could become an international incident."

Their words, while well-meaning, were something of a moot point. Cadance understood that she'd locked herself in a particular route the moment she'd opened a dialogue outside the cave. All she could do now was stay the course.

She cleared her throat of not-quite-concrete. "So, about what I was saying earlier..."

That earned her a glare. "You're still on that? I said no."

Cadance sighed. That was about as far as the conversation had gotten outside. She tried a new tactic. "Maybe I could pay you for it? The Crystal Empire is rich with all sorts of crystals the likes of which I'm sure no dragon has."

The blue dragoness scowled and snapped a particularly long ruby in half. "You remember the first thing I said to you when you showed up here?"

Cadance did. The first thing Ember had said to her was "Hey! What are you doing in my cave?!" followed by "Wait, I think I know you." This had been followed by a brief game where the Dragonlord had tried to guess her name and finally gotten it right after a few misfires. (The guesses had gotten more accurate after she'd been pigeonholed as 'pink, but not the crazy one' and 'one of the ones with all the limbs'. Eventually she'd been identified as 'the one the runs the city made of food' which was an unsettling notion, if not inaccurate from a dragon's perspective). But that was probably not what she was referring to.

"Rule number one for dealing with dragons," she recited, "Never ask for part of a dragon's hoard."

"And the second rule?"

"Never ask for part of a dragon's hoard," she repeated with proper emphasis. She considered using a spell to shoot a jet of smoke and blue flame from her nose like Ember had at the time, but decided that might be pushing the envelope.

"Oh good, so you can remember things. But since that apparently wasn't clear enough, let me add a third rule I didn't even think needed to be said." Ember sat up straight and cleared her throat. "Rule three: Never offer to buy part of a dragon's hoard unless you're looking for a fight."

Cadance was beginning to get the impression that Ember really didn't want things leaving her hoard. Which was a problem seeing how a few laps around the mountain that made up the Dragonlord's lair had very clearly pointed to the next artifact being inside it.

"You're lucky Spike talks so highly of you," she continued, "Otherwise I wouldn't even be giving you the time of day. Scales, if you'd walked up and said that to literally any other dragon you'd have a face full of fire to deal with."

Not that that would have been a problem. Cadance knew a lot of fireproofing spells from her teen years and had already cast a half dozen on herself the minute she entered dragon territory. It was only practical.

"I'm still not seeing the problem. It's just one piece. And if memory serves, it's not like you gathered this all up yourself; you inherited it. From your father, the previous Dragonlord, right?"

This attempt at diplomacy only seemed to stoke Ember's anger further. Smoke plumed from her nostrils in a display that, rather than being threatening as Cadance assumed it was meant to be, merely made her look like she had the world most gravity-defying moustache. "I earned my place as Dragonlord and the ancestral hoard that comes with it!"

The moustache was definitely detracting from her intimidation factor.

"Keep pushing," Luna urged quietly, "A dragon will agree to things in anger that they would never consider in calm. This is actually progressing more smoothly than I expected."

With that vote of confidence, Cadance stayed her course. She scoffed, putting as much noble diffidence into the sound as she could muster. "Please. I bet you don't even know half of what you have here."

The trails of smoke pulsed into flashes of blue fire as Ember's eyes gleamed with rage. "A hoard is a dragon's pride and joy. It's a monument to their strength and power, and strength is everything to a dragon. A bigger hoard means you have to be strong enough to protect it. Asking us to just... just give you part of it, it's... it's like... gah!" She scoffed out another burst of smoke as words failed her. "Why do you ponies insist we have to settle everything with words and feelings? Why can't we just fight it out like any decent race does?"

"You want to fight? Fine! Let's do it!" The words left Cadance's mouth just a moment too quickly for her brain to catch up and realize exactly what she'd said. In hindsight, perhaps she'd been getting a little too into the antagonistic role.

A wide smile spread across Ember's face. A kind of toothy grin that set alarm bells ringing in Cadance's hindbrain like a blind pegasus in a belltower. Rational thought and diplomatic training had to beat off her screaming instincts with a stick, lest she fall to their dire insistence that she flee for the hills immediately. None of this showed on her face, of course, which had been locked into the challenging sneer she'd worn as she posed the challenge.

"You're on!" the dragon cried in delight. She hopped back a few steps and started to crack her claws, neck, and every other joint she had. "I never thought I'd meet a pony who'd actually be down for doing this kind of thing the way it's supposed to be done. You want something? Prove you're strong enough to take it! But don't think I'm going to go easy on you!"

"I wouldn't dream of it." Cadance's words were practically an automated reply as her brain struggled to reboot. As loudly as she dared, she whispered to her two long-distance listeners, "Any suggestions?"

"You dug this hole," came Luna's voice, thankfully quiet, "Now you must lie in it."

"I'm with Princess Luna. It's not ideal, but she's finally open to the idea of parting with any of her hoard at all. If you back down now, she'll probably be insulted and you'll lose your only chance."

She'd thought as much. But that still left her with the issue of how exactly she was going to beat a dragon who was strong and talented enough to become the Dragonlord of her people. For all the many classes she'd taken to prepare for princesshood, interspecies close quarters combat hadn't been on the curriculum.

"My advice?" Luna continued, "Note that she has not yet specified the challenge. Seize the opportunity and choose one wisely, and you may yet prevail."

That... was something she could work with.

"You mind if I pick the nature of the fight?" she asked aloud.

"Fine by me. I can school you in anything you like. No way I'd lose to a pony."

Cadance racked her brain like Twilight searching for a mis-shelved library book. There was a fine line she needed to walk. One one hoof, there were plenty of things she was obviously, even unfairly superior in. Spellcasting, financial planning, knowing all the lyrics to The Ponyducers. But Ember wasn't some gimmicky demon or genie that she needed to trick, she was a foreign leader that Cadance was still going to need a good relationship with afterward. Pulling a cheap move like that would do more harm than good. On the other hoof, picking something that they'd have comparable talent in would risk losing her chance at the relic entirely.

What she needed was a way to leverage one of her skills in a way Ember wouldn't see as an unfair advantage.

She was pulled from her musings at the sound of a exceptionally loud crack. Ember had stretched herself into a particularly uncomfortable-looking twist that involved her tail, wings, and one arm. Cadance couldn't help but take a moment to take in her form. There was... a lot of lithe muscle on display. If Ember was a pony, Cadance imagined she'd have quite the Celestial build. Suitors from the lower noble houses would be crawling over each other for the chance to court her. Though, if her personality as a pony were the same, no doubt Ember would fight them off tooth and horn. Or tooth and wing, if she were a pegasus.

While very little of that line of speculation contributed to help her current situation, the final leg of the train of thought actually did spark an idea.

There was always her last ditch spell. The final resort she'd prepared when entering the land of lava and firebreathers just in case she had a sudden and pressing need to be far more fireproof than even her other spells could compensate for. What she was considering wasn't its intended purpose and was also a bit magic-intensive, but she'd already been holding it half-cast in the back of her mind for some time now. It'd almost be waste not to use it.

And if it worked how she thought it might, the prize was as good as hers.

"Alright," she said as Ember finished up her last stretch. "I have a competition in mind that should settle this quick and easy. No sense drawing it out."

"Easy for one of us," Ember smirked. Cadance ignored it. "You wanna lose faster that's fine by me."

It was a fight to keep her expression calmly neutral, but Cadance prevailed. "I propose we settle this via..." she paused intentionally for dramatic effect. "Claw wrestling. A simple test of strength that won't risk damaging the rest of the hoard around us. Do you accept?"

Ember raised an eyebrow (or at least, the draconically equivalent patch of darker scales) and looked down to Cadance's distinctly clawless hooves. "Claw wrestling? You sure about that?"

"Don't worry about me."

Ember shrugged. "Your funeral. I accept."

"Fantastic." Now Cadance let her grin shine through. "Just a second, please."

With that, Cadance let the spell she'd been pre-casting flow through her horn and fully manifest. Starting from the nape of her neck, a wave of pearlescent pink scales began to rush across her body. The change spread quickly, like an art restorer wiping away paint to reveal a new image underneath. Her wings twisted, feathers stiffening and fusing until they snapped into leathery sheets of skin. Her mane pulled up and went rigid, rapidly calcifying into a set of spiraling horns with the Diadem still nestled between them.

She sat up after a moment, finding her balance much easier on two legs rather than four as her muscles shifted into new positions.

Just as quickly as it had begun, the spell finished, leaving behind a statuesque pink dragoness where once had been a pony.

"Whoa," was all Ember said as she took in the newly christened dragoness, her cheeks going oddly purple. "Well that's... new."

"Just evening the playing field." Cadance's smile hid the strain she was feeling. Already the transformation was pulling at her magical reserves. She figured she could maintain the transformation for only a few minutes, tops. Less if she needed to do anything strenuous or excessively magical.

Hopefully a few minutes was all she would need.

She moved to the slab of rock Ember used as a table and braced her foreleg against it, claws up and spread. "Are you ready?" she asked, her voice picking up an odd lilt as she tried to talk around unfamiliarly sharp teeth.

Ember didn't respond for a moment, only continuing to stare. She quickly shook herself out of it and came to the opposite side of the table, though Cadance noted that her complexion was still a few shades darker than normal. Maybe she was sensitive to foreign magic?

"I'm ready."

"Give us a countdown then."

"F-Fine. Three... two... one... Go!"

The fight for dominance began in earnest. Both sides had their strengths. On one side was a dragon; born and raised in a society that prized physical strength, and the leader of their might-makes-right political system. On the other was another dragon, but more importantly, one that was actually an alicorn and still very much full of alicorn magic. And alicorns, as many creatures tended to forget, came packaged not just with wings and magic, but also the legendary strength of an Earth pony. The fact that her transformation spell was based on an idealized dragon form—and thus, had magically perfect muscles—was simply icing on the cake.

It was, strictly speaking, a very cheap move. Of course Ember, having no formal education in the technicalities and mechanics of transformation magic, knew none of this. And while she would later retell it as a glorious struggle against a worthy foe, in objective honesty it wasn't much of a contest at all. Cadance certainly struggled for the first minutes, but that was almost entirely due to her unfamiliarity with a new limb that bent (from her perspective) the wrong way. Once she overcame the mental block to bend her "hoof" backwards, victory was swift.

"Phew," Ember sighed as she wrung out her claw after all was said and done. She glanced at her table, specifically the new crack running down the middle and through the imprint of a forelimb. "That was a real challenge, and that isn't something I go around saying to just anybody. Scales, you are strong for a pony."

Cadance reversed the spell and returned to her usual form. "Try signing your name on royal papers for three hours a day, everyday. There's no better workout for the forelegs."

"Whatever. You won, so take whatever that thing was you wanted." Ember's eyes narrowed dangerously. "But just that one thing. Nothing else, understand?"

"Perfectly."

With the Diadem guiding her direction and her magic making excavation a breeze, it didn't take Cadance more than a few minutes to find her prize.

The Crystal Flugelhorn was a perfect match to the Diadem and the Scepter. While the Empire was full of flugelhorns, and many of them crystal besides, none could hold a candle to this. It flowed in smooth curves like eddies of a river trapped in time. Every surface was covered in fine etchings of crashing waves and shifting storm clouds that almost seemed to twist and move as they caught the light. Yet despite a level of artistry that would not be out of place in any museum, it was clearly more than a display piece. The mouthpiece had clear scratches through the carvings where teeth had worn away at it.

"Wait." The sound of confused dragon broke Cadance from her awestruck inspection. "That thing? That's what you wanted?"

"Yes?" she replied, clutching the Flugelhorn a little closer to her chest, "Don't tell me you want to change the deal."

"No, please, take it. If you had said that that ugly old thing was what you wanted, I'd have paid you to get rid of it." She scowled at Cadance's hard fought reward, which was starting to feel like a booby prize. "I remember chewing on it when I was little. Never. Again. I was gagging for a week!"

As the gears of her mind spun loosely, Cadance replied with the first thought that came into her head. "You realize that this is the kind of crystal most of the Crystal Empire is made from?"

Ember's eyes widened in surprise. She glanced back down to relic with a concerning mix of disappointment and disgust. "Well there goes our emergency food supply then."

Cadance chose to take that as a joke. She hoped it was a joke.