The Pawn Who Would Be Queen

Every fiber in Orzel's body was tense, her eyes roving over every detail laid out before her. The scent of the Castle Library helped to sooth her somewhat frayed nerves, but it could do little to fully curtail the sense of dread. She'd made a mistake, a very large mistake, and Luna would most assuredly punish her for it. Gazing at the evidence of her failure, laid out before her on the brilliantly polished table, the girl wilted beneath her adoptive Mother's impassive gaze. Each tick of the clock went in time with the beating of her heart, sweat gradually beading on her forehead as nervously she bit her lower lip.

"You should not have done that." Luna stated bluntly, reaching forward across the table to deliver her reckoning. Bracing herself for the crushing blow, Orzel could only watch in muted dismay as Luna manipulated the chessboard set up between them. The White Queen, a beautiful carving of Aunt Celestia crafted from boar tusk, was lifted by Luna's magic and gradually moved across the board. Orzel had unwittingly fallen right into Luna's trap, foolishly taking the woman's rook and leaving herself open for attack. The king in this instance was represented by a Thestral General, carved from black moonstone. Setting the queen down with finality, Luna set her hands in her lap and smiled gently. "Checkmate in five moves."

"I concede..." Orzel groaned, rubbing her temples before setting her King on its side. Her pieces were all out of position to be of much use, by the time she managed to reorient them it would be too late. Adjusting her spectacles, the teen sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. "Pieces on and off the board, the game has ended, become restored." A small aura of blue magic encapsulated the chess pieces, levitating them through the air and setting them in their proper places. "Can I request a rematch?"

"Perhaps in a few hours, after you have completed your lesson with Miss Pirouette." Luna proclaimed with a slight smirk, gently pushing the chessboard aside. Orzel sighed in frustration, rolling her eyes and pushing back her seat. "Come now, Orzel. This is precisely why you must attend her class, your aggressive form cost you both the game and our wager." The teen closed her eyes, taking a moment to steady herself. It had been foolish of her to challenge her Mother to a game like chess, especially considering the woman had thousands of years to master her skill. The prospect of doing so had at the time seemed a better alternative to attending Miss Pirouette's scheduled lesson. "She is not that bad, once you get used to her. Celestia believes she is quite 'chipper'."

"She is too 'chipper' for my liking." Orzel stated flatly, sliding her chair in under the table and adjusting the hem of her navy blue tunic. "Your language is so... Limiting. It is too soft." Luna's smile faded slightly while the girl glanced at the clock on the wall, she had twenty minutes to make the journey from the castle to a little building in downtown Canterlot. She'd first been introduced to Miss Pirouette a few weeks prior in the Castle's Library, but the woman insisted Orzel attend classes in person. That was yet another source of concern for Orzel, as this would mark the first time she left the castle on her own... "You are certain you cannot accompany me?"

"You are more than capable of finding your way there on your own, and my presence would merely hinder you. Consider this an opportunity to become more familiar with the people of Canterlot. Take as much time as you wish to explore, expand your horizons, but only after your lesson." Luna responded, rising from her own seat and gesturing to the clock. "Now go on, we have wasted enough time." Orzel once again sighed, but nodded and started walking towards the library doors. She cast a brief look over her shoulder, watching as Luna quietly surveyed the pieces on the chess board. Pursing her lips, Orzel pushed open the door and slipped out into the hallway beyond, her eyes falling upon the floor.

Through meticulous study and sheer repetition, the girl had committed a good portion of the castle's layout to memory by now, freeing up her time in the halls to think. That free time to think proved to be a double edged sword, as on most days Orzel's mind tended to wander to the less than pleasant thoughts that forever plagued her. Lately she'd been suffering a strange desire to pile all of her books into the center of her room and lay on them, even sleep on them. A brief search of the books in the library revealed this to be normal for 'Drakes', but it nonetheless came as an unwelcome surprise. More often now she was also feeling an elevated level of hostility in the face of some of the 'softer' aspects of Equestrian life. Their overly friendly and talkative nature, how little care they took in their nation's own interests or safety. For some reason it infuriated her, in a very primal sort of way...

The rational part of Orzel's brain cried out that these feelings weren't her own, that they were the results of her draconic heritage, and soon they would pass into irrelevance as she came to better control them. Yet that same rational voice paradoxically justified the anger, precisely because of what Equestria stood for. Freedom, compassion, justice... How could someone not want to protect those things? Why didn't the Equestrians realize the beauty of what they had? It needed to be defended at all costs, yet they dithered about in blissful ignorance of the danger inherent in the world.

To keep her mind from spiraling, Orzel decided to throw herself into learning more enchantments of increasing difficulty. When she wasn't doing that, she was working on her models or tinkering with whatever gizmos she could get her hands on. Engines were her latest fascination, and she'd managed to construct a few crude 'Sterling' engines from old soup cans, a wire coat hanger, and a couple rubber gloves she borrowed from the kitchen. They were all items she had every intention of returning, of course... Eventually. When she didn't need them anymore... Well, more want than need, really...

Orzel briefly glanced to the side, noting a painting of Sir Gallant the Timid. There was an oxymoronic name that exemplified the teen's frustration... Oddly named knights aside, spotting the portrait indicated she needed to take a right at the next hallway intersection. In this portion of the Castle there were no other footsteps but her own, no one to worry about bumping into... No maids, no guards, no gawking tourists. That was for the best. Bumping into people generally meant talking, and Orzel hated having to repeat herself numerous times.

The harshness of her Szafirian accent, or 'Kwarczkie' as it was being referred to less frequently, far overpowered the saccharine sweet syllables of the local tongue. Most people typically just stared at her blankly, though some of the unwitting tourists she'd encountered in portions of the Castle they shouldn't have been resorted to the rather infuriating alternative of speaking to her like some sort of simpleton tribal. She could only imagine what it would be like outside the Castle's protective walls...

Granted, she wouldn't be completely alone. It was already decided she'd be accompanied by two chaperones, Agents Grim and Fable of the Nocturne Agency, a Major and a Captain in the Lunar Marines respectively... They would follow from a distance, only interfering if completely necessary, otherwise letting Orzel experience the city unhindered. Yet another double edged sword. On the one hand she'd be able to look at all the factories and other mechanical marvels she wanted for however long she wanted. On the other hand, in order to see them she'd first need to endure an agonizing two hour lesson on a subject with which she had no discernible interest. Hopefully she wouldn't be obligated to talk to anyone.

Coming to a large abstract painting, one of the newest additions to the Castle's art collection, Orzel took another turn down a far more 'modern' hallway. The painting itself depicted a series of paint splotches, brightly colored hues against a dark background, which was supposedly a 'window into the heart'... Whatever that meant. Abstract art was yet another oxymoron by Orzel's line of thinking, if anything she'd rather hang a technical diagram on the wall than a painting. Perhaps an old blueprint for an old colonial fortification? Something with meticulously straight lines and properly labeled parts, that would be beautiful... Regardless of how she felt about the piece that initially drew her attention, its very presence symbolized a change in the Castle's atmosphere, as now she neared the Grand Foyer.

It was a place where tourists and politicians would undoubtedly be milling about, speaking the overly plush Equestrian language with frustrating fluency. After a while all the words would blend together into a mishmash of gentle consonants and soft vowels, as cheerful, merry, and soft as Equestria itself. The girl sighed once more, the Grand Foyer was also the place she'd likely run into trouble if she wasn't careful. Few people knew what she looked like, but Aunt Celestia's announcement of her existence nonetheless brought eager photographers to the Castle in droves. All were eager to get the first photograph of the new Princess... Hearing the title before her name still felt so strange, even as she gradually came to accept the truth of it. Being called 'Princess' or 'Your Highness' was fine when said in a more formal setting, but would undoubtedly become infinitely more bothersome if used so casually by gawking tourists and eager paparazzi.

Soon enough she heard the telltale clucking she'd gradually come to despise, emanating towards her from the end of the hallway. Taking another turn, Orzel did her best to prepare both mentally and emotionally. The new hallway was lined with Royal Guards, adorned in their traditional ceremonial armor, standing ready to politely direct lost tourists they saw away from the private portions of the castle. What lay beyond was the Grand Foyer, a massively open portion of the castle where the public could freely visit. Decorated in that modern-abstract sort of way, it housed an information desk, some traditional paintings and statues, and even offered a guided tour to other public areas.

Sullenly, Orzel passed the cadre with her eyes set on the bustling crowd ahead. If she was quick enough, she could slip past the sightseers undetected, meet up with Grim and Fable, and start on her short journey to Miss Pirouette's studio. The guards snapped to attention as she passed, something that the teen rather wished they hadn't done. The brief flash of motion unfortunately drew the attention of curious passersby, and soon enough their eyes landed upon Orzel. The guards only ever went to attention for the Princesses, so obviously she had to be one. Some of the onlookers were dressed rather normally, others wore garish hats and shirts emblazoned with slogans like 'I love Canterlot Castle'... Only symbolizing love with a red heart. Why they wore such things was beyond Orzel, personally she found the garments annoying. She was coming to see everything as annoying, lately...

More and more eyes fell upon her, Princess Orzel, right there in the flesh. Several flashes filled her vision, leaving momentary spots in her eyes as camera shutters snapped and clicked like mad. Thankfully, at that moment, two very large and very muscular men in black suits and ties appeared before the crowd could get any closer. A brief jolt of terror ran down Orzel's spine, as their sheer size and sudden appearance reminded her of several 'friendly visits' from Agent Zhelezo of the MIS back home... The fear subsided, however, as she noted they lacked the typical smarmy arrogant smirks and shiny black leather knee boots. She then realized these gargantuan men were, in fact, there to protect her. Where did her two saviors come from? How did they go unseen until the last moment? It didn't really matter, what mattered was that they had arrived just in time to step between her and the crowd.

Agents Grim and Fable, identical twin brothers, were both easily nine feet tall, with arms like tree trunks and bodies that bore the bulk of refrigerators. Orzel hardly came up to their waists, and she had no doubt that if properly provoked either of them could easily lift one of the approaching photographers off the floor with only a single hand. Despite their prodigious mass, somehow both of them could seemingly vanish into, or materialize out of, thin air... Moreover, it never seemed to catch anyone else by surprise, they were just there one moment and gone the next with only Orzel seeming to realize their sudden arrival. Orzel suspected it was something to do with the mirrored sunglasses they wore, as she'd noted a few faint runic inscriptions in the brief moments she'd actually been close enough to see them.

"The Princess will not be taking any questions or photographs. Stand aside." Grim's voice boomed with all the terrible thunder of a full broadside salute, the deep baritone resoundingly echoed through the cavernous Foyer. It was evident from his tone and posture that his words were not a request. Whether they were heeding his warning or simply too stunned by the volume mattered little, either way the crowd stood aside and allowed the two walking mountains to escort their charge towards the Castle's main entrance. Looking up at them, Orzel couldn't help feeling very small... That wasn't unusual, given her rather limited stature of just about five feet. Both men were apparently Thestrals, though they lacked the familiar leathery wings, their immense size and strength more than made up for it. "I apologize for our tardiness, Princess. We would've joined you sooner, but we'd expected you'd take the rear exit."

"There is rear exit?" Orzel asked, slipping into Equestrian as the two men lead her through the front door. "Have not seen on map." The teen shook her head, smiling faintly as she stepped outside onto the castle grounds. Despite the immense size of her escorts, it seemed no one noticed her now... Once again her eyes drifted up to the mirrored sunglasses, sure enough she could see a few more runes. "In-ter-es-ting..." She mumbled, fumbling frustratedly through the pronunciation. "No need apolo-gize, is fine, you quick eh-nough."

"We can show you the secret entrance on our way back, your highness. If you want, that is." Fable offered, his voice sounding distinctly more tremulous than his brother's, just one of the ways she'd come to recognize him. Telling them apart was rather difficult at first, but Orzel did note a few subtle differences aside from their voices. For example, Grim carried himself with a slight limp, the result of some nondescript 'training mishap' that he refused to go into greater detail about. Fable, meanwhile, had several nasty looking scars on the backs of his hands that seemed to stretch up his arms, hidden by the sleeves of his suit, the result of another 'training mishap'. Generally, however, getting the two stone faced colossi to speak more than two words was rare... Today was different, on account of Orzel's unprecedented 'exploration opportunity'."It's not that far from the tunnel to the Enchantatarium, actually."

"Sounds... Axe-ehp-stable?" Orzel half asked, inwardly berating herself for so terribly mangling a simple word like 'acceptable'. Rather than stare at her blankly or ask her to repeat herself, the two Nocturne Agents continued on as if she hadn't slipped up. The girl smiled a little more genuinely, her eyes returning to the finely carved stone steps ahead. Despite only having met them a few weeks prior, Orzel rapidly came to trust the enigmatic Agents... Like Cousin Blueblood, they reminded her a lot of her own father, though perhaps less... Severe. Father wouldn't have been pleased by her leaving home more or less alone, even for a short while. He wouldn't have been pleased by a lot of things Orzel was doing lately, now that she thought about it... "Why not show now? We just skip fool-ish stu-dee-oh trip, yes?"

"You know why." Grim chided, crossing his arms as the trio made their way through the crowded front courtyard towards the main gate. It was warmer than usual, as if the waning summer was having its final hurrah before giving way to autumn and far less stifling temperatures, with clouds few and far apart in the sky above. An almost imperceptible breeze caused clusters of stately paper birch trees swayed lazily, the rustle of their leaves like the distant applause of a symphony house. The sound was muddled by the chatter of so many idle wanderers and tour groups, as well as the distant bustle of the Canterlot metropolis. "Don't worry, you aren't the only one that has to take Miss Pirouette's class. There'll be plenty of other kids there."

"I know, why you think I wahn-ting to be staying here?" Orzel countered, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes, once again unable to curtail her hostility. "I not even want to be going to 'Gala'..." That was the most annoying part of her predicament, attending classes to learn how to properly dance at a social function she had no desire to attend. The class was therefore a waste of her time, time she could've spent learning more about enchanting, or listening to her records, or expanding her vocabulary, and by extension her precious collection of books. Especially given that the 'Gala' in question was now months away, give or take a few weeks. "I wish Aunt Chalyista just can-sell ent-tire thing. Is stu-pid..."

"Won't get an argument from me, Princess." Grim stated with a dry chuckle, though her own comment prompted Orzel to suddenly check over her shoulder out of reflex... For the second time that day, she'd feared the far away boogeymen from the Ministry of Internal Security. In Cesarski, such statements against the Government, no matter how quietly whispered, would be somehow discovered and made note of. If she were lucky, the comment would be seen as 'youthful indiscretion' and she'd be allowed to go on her merry way without incident. Equestria had no such Ministry, Orzel knew that, but the reflex remained all the same. Then came the brief surge of guilt... Speaking out against the government once again would have made Mother and Father most displeased.

As much as she loved them, Orzel was gradually realizing that they were wrong about a great many things. Now, whenever she thought about them, the guilt joined the horror... So she did her best not to dwell on them too often. Orzel wiped her forehead and looked upwards at the entrance to the palatial courtyard. The wall that surrounded the castle was tall and painted white, broken up by the gatehouse containing a large raised steel portcullis. Guards stood there in more appropriate uniforms, quietly checking people and their belongings before either allowing them to enter or depart. It felt remarkably strange to just... Walk past them. Without so much as a glance from the guards, or the people waiting in line for that matter. Then again, Orzel lived there, it was unlikely she'd be making off with a priceless antique or piece of art.

Passing through the gate was a surreal experience, going from the finely ordered castle walls and being directly deposited into the greater Canterlot metropolis. Stopping abruptly on the edge of the sidewalk, Orzel needed a moment to absorb the significance of that moment. In Cesarski she'd always needed to leave home with Mother or Father accompanying her. Not only were teenaged girls discouraged to travel on their own, but her blindness made going out and about a doubly dubious endeavor. Even with Grim and Fable assigned to escort her, however, something about what she was doing felt different. While initially she'd need to arrive at the dance studio, afterward she'd be free to go anywhere she so chose... Mother or Father wouldn't be there to hurry her along, to keep her from taking in the sights.

Adjusting her glasses, Orzel took a deep breath through her nose, experiencing a myriad of new smells in stunning clarity. The smell of automobile exhaust, fresh asphalt, and... Just a hint of frying onions, wafting from a small silvery cart across the street with a comically large sausage, a 'hot dog' as the Equestrian's called them, painted on its exterior. It wasn't an entirely pleasant smell, granted, but that wasn't the point. It was the smell of commerce and industry, of potential... The smell of progress. All the things that Cesarski was supposedly built upon, yet the shining crown jewel of the Szafirian Empire was but a flickering speck when placed beside Canterlot... Beside Equestria.

The Emperor may have said he stood for things such as development and progress, but Luna and Aunt Celestia had done so much more. There before her very eyes beat the mighty heart of Equestrian industry, the most powerful economy on the planet, capable of producing goods of all kinds on a scale so immense Orzel could scarcely comprehend it. Other countries might try to claim otherwise, but even the closest competitor paled in comparison to Equestria's sheer manufacturing base... For all its unpleasantness, that acrid stench of asphalt and sauteing onions represented some of the best qualities Equestria had to offer. There stretched out before her, housed in towering skyscrapers and thundering factories, the citizens of the nation, her new motherland, hard at work.

People milled about on the grimy city sidewalks, some well dressed, others in little more than t-shirts and trousers. The sidewalks themselves were cracked in some places, repaired in others, all were speckled with black smudges of an origin Orzel did not want to speculate upon. Automobiles puttered along those cobblestone streets not yet paved over, coexisting somehow alongside horse drawn carriages, though with considerably more of the former. A few of the automobiles were parked near the sidewalk, and so that became a place Orzel gradually gravitated towards. Now that she was up close, she found them to be rickety looking contraptions, with small narrow noses that terminated in a flat radiator grill.

Most were painted a sort of satin black, with brass and chrome accents, the most ostentatious of which sat atop the radiator, that being a small statuette of 'Rook' chess piece. From what she'd read about internal combustion engines, that indicated this particular vehicle was built by Rook Automotive. The first automotive company in Equestria to embrace 'mass production'... This vehicle, the Rook 'Model U', was one of the cheapest automobiles on the market... Elegantly simple in its design, it was easy to produce, easy to repair, and affordable to most Equestrian citizens. Hopefully automobiles wouldn't become a passing fad... Though if they did, there would undoubtedly be plenty of spare parts for Orzel to get her hands on.

"I sup-pose there are worse things to be doing.." Orzel said quietly, smiling as she stepped back from the automobile. Her rational mind was starting to assert itself once again, allowing her to relax more readily. While the prospect of attending Miss Pirouette's class still bothered her, it was only an hour or so of her time. Afterwards maybe she'd go visit the Rook Automotive factory, or some of the other interesting buildings she'd occasionally observed through her bedroom window. Turning to face Grim and Fable, Orzel put her hands on her hips. "You are not goings to let-ting me back inside, yes?" Grim and Fable both nodded silently. "Then let us be get-ting this over with..."

Straightening her posture, Orzel started walking down the sidewalk. She had a decent enough idea where she was going, it was more or less a straight shot from the Castle. Finding a crosswalk was easy enough, there was an intersection twenty yards or so from the Castle's front gate. A considerable crowd was gathered there, impatiently awaiting the chance to cross the street. As they usually did, Grim and Fable were able to make their way into the mass of people, once again completely unnoticed. What sort of enchantment could help both of her titanic companions blend in so well? Orzel hadn't the faintest idea. She'd have to see about perhaps acquiring a pair of the enigmatic sunglasses for herself, they'd come in handy any time she wanted to leave the Castle on her own...

A policeman at the center of the intersection was directing each car or carriage by hand, occasionally pausing to shout at drivers he deemed as taking too long. It wasn't a totally efficient system, one that Orzel suspected could be improved with the aid of automation... Maybe something to do with signal flags, or different colored lights? Then again, that left the possibility of a malfunction that would jam up traffic. The girl shook her head, she was allowing her mind to wander once again. Gathered together in that crowd of eager pedestrians, Orzel found that apparent executives and businessmen were standing alongside construction workers without much complaint... Yet another difference between the Empire and Equestria, there seemed to be more and more with each passing day.

After two or three minutes of waiting, the policeman held up his hand to stop more vehicles. With a loud blow from a silvery whistle, he signaled the crowd it was safe to cross. Orzel tucked her hands into her pockets as she walked with the group, and as she did so, Grim and Fable were suddenly nowhere to be seen. The girl expected as much to happen, so she tried not to let it bother her. Luna wanted her to become more accustomed to walking among the Equestrian public, it would be rather hard to do that with her escorts, even if their enchanted glasses made them less noticeable.

The crowd gradually dispersed as she reached the other side of the street, leaving Orzel with a bit more room to look around. She found herself lingering more and more to observe the stores and businesses that lined the streets. While she didn't intend to skip Miss Pirouette's class, being a few minutes late certainly wouldn't be the end of the world. The stores ranged from restaurants to clothing boutiques, including a few shops dedicated to obscure items like imported jewelery... Orzel's stomach grumbled as she observed a few of the gemstones through the front window, and for some reason her mouth began to salivate... A most disconcerting sensation, and its cause entirely unknown to her. She concluded it was likely the result of one of the nearby restaurants, it probably would've been a good idea to eat before leaving the castle.

While Orzel had a few odd bits in her pocket, at present there was hardly any time to shop. It was just a nice feeling to actually see Canterlot first hand, to take time and enjoy the scenery... Urban as that scenery may have been. The world was far larger than her bedroom, and no amount of books about adventure could ever do the real thing justice. The sights, the smells, the sounds, even the feeling of pavement beneath her shoes. Then there were the people just going about their lives, each a protagonist in his or her own story. A man at the bus stop wearing an ill fitting suit, a woman pushing her baby carriage while humming a sweet song. Orzel could only wonder just what their lives might have been like, were they filled with joy or tragedy?

Picking up the pace, Orzel followed the street signs for another two blocks. Finally she came upon a cluster of brick structures, aesthetically no different to those surrounding them. Judging by the signage, one appeared to be a music store, the other a curio shop. The third, and smallest of the group, bore a sign for 'Pirouette's Studio of Cultured Dance'. It was big and brightly colored, there was no way she could miss it, or claim to have missed it. Orzel gingerly made her way up the stone steps and pulled on the handle of the large glass door, only for it to rattle and remain closed. For a split second Orzel allowed herself to hope that the business was actually closed, but a quick glance to a small sign in the window shattered that. Smacking her palm against her face and hoping no one had seen her mistake, she pushed forward and the door swung freely inwards.

Stepping into the dance studio, Orzel's ears were assaulted by the quiet chatter of the class participants. Blinking her eyes to adjust to the darker locale, she let the door close behind her, until she beheld the interior in all its appalling splendor. She knew of countless stories and books, with adjectives and descriptors so numerous and complex that in some cases they boggled her mind. Yet for all of her varying verbiage, only one word sprang to mind as she took in the frightful nightmare that was Miss Pirouette's Studio of Cultured Dance. Saccharine. From the light blue floral wallpaper, to the pink curtains, to the red chairs and couch cushions. All were sickeningly bright and cheery in color, made worse by white doilies on every conceivable flat surface, and even a few of the inconceivable sort. The only things that weren't overtly cloy were the hardwood dance floor at the center of the studio and a large mirror that took up an entire wall.

Standing at the center of the dance floor, addressing her eleven apparent students, was the middle aged woman from which the studio took its name. Miss Pirouette wore a black turtleneck and trousers, her graying blonde hair tied smartly back. The other students, all around Orzel's age or slightly older, were certainly an eclectic group. Some wore polo shirts and khakis, others apparently chose simple t-shirts or blouses and slacks, leaving Orzel feeling rather odd with her choice of tunic and trousers. There were six boys and five girls in total, all of whom went silent and turned to look at her. Orzel suddenly felt very exposed, like she'd just been caught doing something wrong, and it took a great deal of effort not to just bolt out the door.

"Ah, Miss Orzel, you're perfectly punctual!" Miss Pirouette said genially, looking to a clock on the wall. To Orzel's mild annoyance, she had arrived with just seconds to spare. So much for shaving a few minutes off the class. The teen half expected Pirouette to be cross for cutting things so close, but thankfully it seemed Pirouette was the forgiving sort. In what Orzel perceived to be an attempt at welcoming her, Pirouette simply gestured to the group. "We were just about to begin, please join us." Orzel gulped, abruptly feeling very parched, then wordlessly made her way onto the dance floor. She did her best not to seem like she was trying avoid people, sticking to the very fringes of the class, but Miss Pirouette would seemingly have none of it. "Don't be shy, we're all friends here."

Orzel tentatively moved closer to the center, ultimately standing beside a boy that was perhaps a head and a half taller than her. Dressed in a white t-shirt and blue pants of an unknown material... A sort of twill, from the look of things, dyed in indigo. It seemed a common facet of Equestrian fashion, yet Orzel hadn't taken time to learn its name. The boy's auburn hair was short and parted to the right. Taking note of her arrival, the boy cast a rather confident smile at her. Orzel just stared blankly back, contemplating how she should respond, or if she should respond at all. Her gut told her that this boy was attempting to be friendly, her mind told her he was trying to intimidate her in some fashion. Either way she labeled the entire exercise ultimately pointless, so her attention returned to Miss Pirouette and the class at hand.

"Now that we're all here, why don't we go over just what dancing is." Miss Pirouette began, starting to pace at the head of the group. Orzel, for her part, couldn't see more than the woman's forehead due to another tall boy standing in front of her. It was one of the few times she was happy to be short, as it perhaps would keep Pirouette from calling on her if she asked a question. "Dancing is an art form, just as painting or musical composition. It comes from your heart, your soul, your passion..." Orzel struggled not to roll her eyes, the odd Equestrian obsession with overly mushy descriptions pervaded every aspect of life. She admitted there might be some sort of emotional component to magic, though she didn't believe 'heart' had anything to do with it... Sooner or later she'd discover exactly just what the 'emotional' component actually was... For now, she supposed she'd have to deal with 'heart' as it pertained to dancing. "Now, why don't we all tell one another about something we're passionate about? That way we each find something to draw inspiration from."

There was some murmuring from the group, most of it in the affirmative. Over the course of fifteen minutes the other class members opened up about their passions, with half of that time being taken up by a rather long winded boy at the far left of the group. The showcased 'inspiration' ranged from spell casting to baking to business, but nothing that really grabbed Orzel's attention. Despite her efforts to remain invested, gradually she found her mind wandering through a series of idle questions. Did she remember to put away her enchanting supplies? Of course she did... Did she need new phonograph needles? It wouldn't hurt to get more... What were those little things on the end of shoelaces called? She'd need to consult the dictionary... Time seemed to drag on into infinity as she went further down the check list of her own miscellaneous thoughts, at least until she was gently tapped on the shoulder.

"Huh?" She mumbled in Szafirian, rapidly looking for the source of the unsolicited poke. The boy beside her quietly nodded his head towards the front of the class. It seemed Miss Pirouette was listening to the girl beside Orzel, who was going on about how passionate she was for fashion and 'trendsetting'. The girl was just wrapping up her speech, and Orzel soon recognized that it would be up to her to speak next. It was not a comforting thought.

"Very good, Miss Thimble Trim." Pirouette concluded with that sing-song voice of hers, before rising up on the tips of her toes in order to get a better look at Orzel. Orzel in turn blinked owlishly back, pursing her lips as her mind drew a blank on just what to say. Realistically, there was nothing she wanted to say, other than 'None of your business'. She doubted that would go over very well, however. The simple matter was she didn't want to look like a fool, butchering her words in front of a group of people her age, or any age really. "Miss Orzel, what about you, what are you passionate about? You've hardly said a word since you got here."

"You know why." Orzel quietly explained in thickly accented Equestrian, narrowing her eyes and tucking her hands back into her pocket. From Pirouette's insistent gesturing, however, it seemed the message had not been received. "This is stu-pid axe-air-size." Orzel grunted, trying to reduce how badly her accent came out, but in so doing only making it worse. Frustrated at the foolishness of it all, she crossed her arms and looked at the floor.

"No one here is going to judge you." Pirouette insisted, smiling and gesturing to the rest of the class. "Right?" Once again their came the indistinct chattering in the affirmative. Like a gaggle of foul tempered fowl, they all turned to look at her expectantly, several even offering words of encouragement. All eyes were on Orzel, again, and this time neither Grim nor Fable would be present to keep the wolves at bay. With no viable means of dodging the question, at least none that wouldn't result in a stern talking to by Luna, the girl let out an indignant huff.

"I enchant." Orzel muttered, glaring off into space. Maybe if she kept her answers short she could reduce the humiliation, the less she spoke the less anyone would hear her accent. Once again, Pirouette seemed unsatisfied with the answer she'd received. "I read, I make mode-dels." The girl added, yet even that didn't seem enough. "I do not speak good, you know this! What else you wahn-tings me to be say-ying?"

"Well, why are you so interested in those things?" Pirouette asked, gesturing around at the rest of the group. "Everyone else has shared." Orzel was torn between anxiety and frustration, gradually leaning towards the latter. As much as she liked Equestria, some times people just didn't know when to stop talking. What was more, they expected her to be the same way, to just open up and talk incessantly...

"Takings mind off of things that are mak-ings me up-set." Orzel stated pointedly, frowning in a manner she hoped would mimic Princess Luna's own typical expression of displeasure. Pirouette seemed unfazed, and this time Orzel was unable to keep herself from rolling her eyes. Part of her just wanted to storm out and leave it at that, that would certainly be the easiest solution, but there would be hell to pay when she got home. So instead she opted to try a different tactic, one that Orzel had picked up from Cousin Blueblood. When people started to ask tough questions, just ask your own question and change the subject. If that failed, ask them about themselves, then they'd never stop talking. She'd stick to the former for now. "I was of think-king this is dance class, yes? Why we talk-king feel-lings?"

"A fair question, Miss Orzel. You have a point." Pirouette conceded, much to the girl's surprise. Not one to stand on ceremony, the irrepressibly bubbly dance instructor clapped her hands together."Now that I've heard from all of you, I have a good idea as to whom to pair each of you up with. Miss Thimble Trim, you'll be paired with Mister Silver Gavel..." On and on she went, pairing members of the class off, until finally her eyes fell on Orzel and the boy in the red polo shirt. "Mister High Tower, you'll be working with Miss Orzel. Now that that's all settled, we can begin. Spread out a bit so we aren't all on top of one another, take a few minutes to get to know your partner. Then we'll go over proper posture and hand placement."

The class gradually spread out over the dance floor, leaving Orzel and the boy apparently named 'High Tower' more or less where they'd been standing. Still thoroughly annoyed, but not willing to break her word with Luna, Orzel turned to meet High Tower's eyes... Or rather, his chest, once again contributing to her sour mood. Ultimately being forced to look up at him, the girl let out another huff of exasperation. That same confident smile was there on High Tower's face, though what he was so confident about was of little interest or concern to Orzel. Putting her hands on her hips, she waited for him to say something. Meanwhile, the rest of the class was already entering their own conversations, filling the air with more intolerable chatter.

"So, you like enchanting." High Tower stated coolly, at least, Orzel was pretty sure that's what he was trying to do. "I'm pretty into magic myself, my father sits on the board of the Equestrian Education Association." Orzel crossed her arms, unable to stop a growing sense of anger that she couldn't quite place. She wanted to go back to the Castle, to just put all her books into a big pile and lay on top of them... It was a stronger urge than before, and Mister High Tower wasn't helping matters. "That's a pretty accent, is it Prench?"

"Is Szafirian." Orzel corrected, snapping perhaps a bit more than she should have. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and tried to clear her mind of annoyances. It wasn't High Tower's fault she was stuck here in that bizarrely cheerful studio, and it wouldn't do for a Princess to go biting her subjects' heads off at the drop of a hat. With that in mind, she opened her eyes and hoped to appear relaxed. "I am sorry, do not like disk-cuss-sing axe-cent." The girl shook her head, tucking her hands back into the pocket as she wasn't sure what else to do with them. "You men-shun father on Yee-Yee-Aye? What pose-it-shun?" High Tower stared at her with barely concealed befuddlement, she could see the gears turning in his head. "What he do?" The girl stated more succinctly, before he could ask her to repeat herself.

"Oh, uh, he's the vice chairman, specializes in historical studies." High Tower answered non-comittaly, rubbing the back of his neck. "He's the one that's making me come here, pretty old fashioned Noble stuff. What about you?" He gestured to the group of other dancers. "I've met those guys before at a bunch of other functions, but you're new. What do your parents do?"

Orzel stared at him for a few seconds, pursing her lips and frowning as she tried to figure out how best to answer. Should she come clean, let him know that she was Princess Orzel, daughter of Princess Luna and heir to the Obsidian Throne? No... Too formal. Should she tell him her parents were dead? That would just make things awkward. All the more confusing was how Luna fit in to all of her internal debates. Under Szafirian Law, and Equestrian it seemed, Luna was just as much Orzel's mother as her actual biological mother... She certainly cared as much, maybe even more, setting aside the enforced attendance of dance lessons. Orzel's biological mother wouldn't have encouraged her to explore freely, or have insisted that certain feelings she had were perfectly natural... Even if they weren't.

"Father was in Navy... Mother work nights at Castle." Orzel finally settled for a half truth, as lying outright was something she figured would get her into trouble sooner or later. "She is very busy, lots of things to be doing." High Tower just nodded, oblivious to the missing context, flashing that same confident grin once again. He couldn't have known just how deeply his question had rattled her... Her Mother, Sokol, sat atop an unassailable pedestal for all of Orzel's life... Until now.

It ate Orzel up inside, to come to resent the woman that gave birth to her, raised her, and ultimately given up her life for her daughter... Even if it was only mild resentment. There were things Orzel read about recently, stories where parents were supportive and empathetic, like Luna... The more she learned, the more she came to realize that there were certain things she'd longed for all her life. A few kind words, some encouragement, perhaps a pat on the back... Mother and Father never said she could do more than just 'get married' to do her duty to the state, because that simply wasn't what they believed.

Orzel was their child, theirs to command, theirs to marry off once she came of age... They loved her, in their own staunch traditionalist way, but Orzel was now well past that limited view of her own future... With Luna's help. None of this inner turmoil could pierce the implacable mask that Orzel forced to the surface. She'd become rather adept at that, or so she hoped. Once again it seemed that High Tower was none the wiser, as he launched into some spiel about how he had visited the Grand Foyer and seen special 'secret' parts of the castle thanks to his father's connections... If only he knew just how much more there was to see. Before Orzel could speak further, however, Miss Pirouette gave a sharp whistle... Class, it seemed, was about to commence.

Of all the stressful duties laid upon the shoulders of Princess Celestia and Luna, none were quite so serious as the midday 'Threat Assessment Briefing'. It was an entirely necessary portion of the day, but it had the tendency to be filled with long drawn out explanations and fact reading that dulled the mind into apathetic numbness. Typically it was the same briefing every day, with no appreciable risks worth noting, and that made it mercifully short... A few rampaging warlords in Zebrica, an increase in pirate activity, all things that were generally beyond Equestria's current policy to interfere with. That was not the case with today's meeting, it seemed, as it was proving a most atypical kind of briefing. One of actual substance, which as a result garnered both Princesses' full attention.

The Situation Room was darkly lit, the only illumination coming in the form of a film projector that cast flickering black and white images onto a screen at the far end of the rectangular space. It rested atop a solid wooden conference table, which in turn was flanked by a dozen or so Generals and Admirals in high backed leather swivel chairs. Celestia and Luna sat beside one another at the end closest to the screen, observing the images with rapt fascination and growing concern. The air was heavy with tobacco smoke, emanating from smoldering ashtrays and faintly glowing embers near the lips of the majority of the officers present. Most of it, however, came from three distinctly different forms that flanked the table.

Field Marshal Redwood of the Equestrian Army, Field Marshal Arcturus of the Lunar Marine Corps, and Director Aquila of the Nocturne Agency. The three men were unofficially known as 'The Big Three' among the Joint Chiefs and other high ranking brass, as they more often than not had the most to contribute to the briefings, and moreover they could at least tolerate one another. That was something that could not be said for the majority of the Army and the Lunar Corps ,which only recently was transferred back to Luna's direct control, to say nothing of the nigh ancient mistrust that existed between the Army and the ever secretive Nocturne Agency. Princess Celestia rather liked the Big Three's ability to work together, though generally their solutions all seemed to entail force or violence in some form or another... That was to be expected, she reasoned. After all, they were in the military, force was their business.

Redwood was perhaps the eldest of the trio, nearly sixty years old, though he didn't look a day over fifty. Barrel chested and muscular, the top buttons of his uniform shirt struggled to contain his impressive pectorals. His graying black hair was buzzed so short Celestia had to wonder why he didn't just shave it all off, and his striking blue eyes could pierce all but the most resolute of poker faces. She actually rather fancied him, but there were a few aspects that prevented her from seeking his affections. Firstly, he was her immediate subordinate. Secondly, and more importantly, he was married. Thirdly, and equally as important, was that his typical response to matters of crisis was simple and blunt. If it was hostile, then it had to be killed. No 'half measures', as he called them, no compromises, no non-aggression treaties. Just massive retaliation and utter devastation of the enemy...

His Lunar Corps counterpart, Field Marshal Arcturus, was slighter in build and only forty years of age, with hawkish green eyes and the familiar pallor associated with thestrals, a stark contrast the sapphire blue dress uniform that concealed his lanky physique. Two sharp fangs jutted from beneath his upper lip, and his leathery wings were folded neatly against his back. Arcturus was the near polar opposite of Redwood, quiet and calculated, his solutions typically settled on neutralizing the threat as quietly and anonymously as possible. Surgical strikes, covert missions, unofficially sanctioned operations... Those were his stock and trade.

That left Director Aquila, supposedly the youngest of the trio at just thirty two, though he seemed far older. Celestia wasn't sure what to make of him, as much of what he did was mind bogglingly contradictory, seemingly on purpose. He had all the hallmarks and mannerisms of a Thestral, but none of the physical attributes aside from his pasty white skin, that seemed nearly albino against his jet black suit and tie. A pair of darkly tinted spectacles rested presently upon his nose, whether it was day or night, indoors or outside, at all times they disguised his ever prying eyes. More strangely, despite having numerous high security clearances and holding one of the most powerful offices in all the Equestrian Armed Forces, Aquila did not officially exist. No hometown, no school records, not even a birth certificate... All Celestia did know for certain was that at one point he had been deeply involved with the occult, and this she'd only learned by accidentally glimpsing a tattoo on his forearm. His suggestions were often as enigmatic and cryptic as the man himself.

Coughing politely, Celestia's eyes briefly fell upon Aquila, the man responsible for capturing the footage unfolding before their eyes, a joint venture between the Lunar Corps and the Nocturne Agency. The scenery in the film was unnervingly familiar, unmistakably having been created in the Castle gardens. The footage was shaky, likely on account of the camera being carried by hand. To the uninitiated, it would've seemed little more than vacation footage, something to remember the various statues in the gardens by. That innocuous innocence ended when several men in Lunar Corps uniforms entered frame, waving hand held devices over the statues. They were small rectangular things with metal wands hooked up by wires, each with a couple lights on their exterior and a large analogue gauge. Not present in the soundless footage was the distinctly shrill 'tick-tick-tickety-tick' that accompanied their use.

Most of the time, when waved over the statues, the gauge would remain unchanged. That was normal, as those particular statues were just that... Statues. Several times the gauge fluctuated, but remained in the lower section of the scale... Those statues had a far less innocent origin, many of them being criminal wizards too dangerous to be imprisoned by conventional means. Many hailed from an era when Equestria was young and fragile, most having had aims to make the fledgling state into their personal domain, if not for the machinations of the Nocturne Agency... Indeed, that was the only reason the Agency survived following the Nightmare War. Yet even these statues hadn't caused the stirring fear in Celestia's heart. That honor fell to the image currently before them. A towering stony draconequs, the very visage of anarchy itself. Discord, Master of Bedlam, King of Calamity, and undisputed God of Chaos. He was, without a doubt, one of the greatest threats Equestria ever faced.

The gauge maxed out when waved over his statue, and several lights flickered menacingly. The footage itself became grainy and streaked with vertical lines, interspersed with dark spots or white flashes of light that would otherwise have been invisible to the naked eye. The Lunar Marines rapidly retreated from the statue, to a distance of around twenty yards, even there the footage seemed distorted... That was to be expected, given the camera and the men in the video were only moments before exposed to over two hundred Arc-Rads, the maximum to which the meters could reliably register. All those involved were subsequently admitted to Canterlot General for immediate examination and treatment, Acute Arcane Radiation Syndrome wasn't typically fatal with such brief exposure, but the men nonetheless were starting complaining of severe discomfort. Setting aside the human cost for a moment, seeing that high of a reading from the Discord Statue did not bode well for a myriad of other factors. The footage abruptly stopped, and with the audible flick of a switch the lights came back up.

"The men are still undergoing treatment, but the Doctors predict they'll make full recoveries." Aquila spoke up, further confirming Celestia's hopes for the soldiers' safety. The Director's voice was hoarse and rough, grating like sandpaper on Celestia's ears. In the slightly brighter room his ghoulish features became all the more pronounced, sunken eyes, short unkempt black hair, a notable slouch. Taking a sip of water from a glass on the table, he cleared his throat and spoke again, this time with a voice far clearer and more unsettling in its nonchalant callousness. "In most cases the stone enchantment is strong enough to contain its occupant indefinitely, but CH-Four-Zero-Five is not most cases."

"Our best guess is that the containment of Object CH-Four-Zero-Five will fail in approximately four months." He continued as he picked up a smoldering half finished cigarette from an ashtray, gently drawing on it a few times before exhaling. Like the man, the cigarette was also distinct. Soft yellow paper, with a purple filter that depicted a belly dancing woman in silhouette along its exterior. The brand was unknown to Celestia, not that she smoked, especially not as prodigiously as her military staff or even the average Equestrian... She'd likely need to use considerably powerful magic after this meeting, to get the scent of ash out of her clothes and hair. "If we're lucky, at least."

"Your best guess?" Luna asked skeptically, interrupting Celestia's wandering thoughts and lacing her fingers together whilst sitting up in her chair. "So it could fail tomorrow, or next week?" Aquila nodded apologetically, then wordlessly flipped open a folder resting before him. "What of the other artifacts within the gardens, were they disturbed in any way by the arrival of Princess Orzel or her Mother?"

"Preliminary results suggest her arrival had no impact, aside from the creation of the ring of runes in the gardens. Other checks from around Equestria confirm no appreciable breaches in the Arcane Barrier so far." Aquila responded evenly, flipping through a few more pages before picking one up and reading it a bit more closely. Despite Luna's somewhat annoyed tone, Celestia could see that Aquila was more or less unfazed. Given that matters of this importance were generally handled by the Nocturne Agency, she supposed such issues were not uncommon. That scared her, the more she thought about it... How many threats had the Agency eliminated throughout the centuries without her knowledge? "Tests indicate the containment failure of CH-Four-Zero-Five is more likely the result of the transference of the Elements of Harmony. The failure could've blindsided us if we hadn't conducted the anomaly sweep when we did..."

"What are our options?" Celestia spoke up, leaning back in her own seat and glancing from Aquila, to Arcturus, to Redwood with an expectantly quirked eyebrow. The three men looked among one another, as if communicating in some unknowable silent language. They were the most senior men in the chamber, at least in terms of experience and rank... One of the few instances where the Nocturne Agency and the Lunar Corps could cooperate with the Regular Army without descending into some sort of jurisdictional shouting match.

"We can move the statue to a secluded area of Equestria, preferably the desert. From there it's a simple matter of wrappin' it with explosives and blowin' it plum to tartarus." Redwood stated in that burly surly voice of his, carrying a distinctive twang that could only come from the southern province of Lone Star. "If that don't work, we can have airships and the Army Air Corps on standby to knock the crap out of whatever's left of ol' Discord before he has a chance to do boo. Eliminate the threat once and for all, and free up some space in the Garden at the same time. S'win-win in my book."

"The more prudent course of action is to remove the statue and transfer it to a secure facility, possibly Darkstar at Neighless Army Air Corps Base." Arcturus countered, sitting up straight in his seat as he took a drag from a dimly glowing cigarette that hung between his lips. Celestia was already leaning more towards Arcturus' suggestion, primarily because it didn't involve out and out killing Discord. Much as he was a threat, the death penalty was a solution she preferred to avoid. "Once there, we can construct a dedicated containment vessel around the statue with the aid of the Elements of Harmony, so that whenever CH-Four-Zero-Five escapes the statue he'll already be contained. Long enough for us to re-imprison him, at any rate."

"We can certainly contain CH-Four-Zero-Five as Marshal Arcturus suggests, but I believe we would be missing a unique opportunity." Aquila chimed in, steepling his fingers while the glimmering ember of his cigarette slowly creeped towards his chapped lips. From where Celestia sat, she could detect a faint smile within the gloom, though what purpose it served remained unknown to her. "Despite his destructive nature, Discord has remarkable arcane ability. If he could be 'reformed', as the Elements did to Princess Luna, we would serve to learn a great deal about the Chaotic Realm and gain a potent ally."

"The Chaotic Realm...?" One of the less senior Officers asked incredulously, Celestia couldn't see who directly with all the smoke and dingy lighting. Their disbelief was understandable, the 'Chaotic Realm' was little more than a hypothesized arcane curiosity, and not a very well accepted one either. In theory it was like Limbo, a 'space between spaces', between Equestria and... Something else. "I realize you deal in superstition, Mister Director, but you would have us spare Discord in order to learn about something that doesn't exist?"

"You have not seen beyond the veil as I have." Aquila stated coldly, lacing his fingers together with frightful speed. "There exist realms far beyond your meager comprehension, realms that pose an existential threat to everything and everyone on this planet!" His eyes passed back to Celestia, then to Luna, then oddly to the film projector. Though not a word was spoken, his meaning seemed quite clear. Orzel and her Mother were from another realm, as were the creatures that inadvertently came with them... Creatures currently housed at Nocturne Agency Headquarters in Canterlot, and with which Aquila was likely intimately familiar. "A door has been left open, if it is not closed, something will eventually come through... Discord may be the only being capable of putting a stop to it, or at the very least mitigating the threat."

Celestia and Luna eyed one another, communicating in a manner not all that dissimilar from Aquila's telling glance. Killing Discord was not an option, and not only due to the moral quandaries it would raise. Such an act was attempted once before, long ago, to little effect. Arcturus' solution was perhaps the safest of the three, permanently imprisoning Discord once and for all... That too was morally dubious, Discord would still technically be alive, though what quality of life he'd experience was not a subject Celestia cared to speculate upon. Aquila's idea, while dangerous, left some small amount of wiggle room. There was also undoubtedly more to his vague 'door' metaphor that couldn't be discussed in current company, Nocturne Agency matters were seldom discussed among the General Staff.

"My sister and I shall need to deliberate on the offered solutions, in the meantime I want that section of the gardens cordoned off and placed under heavy guard." Celestia ordered calmly, the other officers nodded, though a few threw unpleasant glares in Aquila's direction. "We'll adjourn for the day, you're all dismissed." There came quiet murmuring from the assembled brass as they stood from their seats. Celestia and Luna were always the last to leave meetings, generally it was easier to just hold their discussion in the same room than it was to depart to a more 'official' deliberating chamber.

Gradually the Generals and Admirals filed out of the room, with Arcturus and Redwood lingering the longest, until the only other person that remained was Aquila. He silently gathered up his files and extinguished his cigarette in one of the ashtrays, his features remaining as stoic and implacable as before.

"Director, if you would remain for a moment." Luna's voice was gentle but firm, and the enigmatic spymaster cordially nodded. Adjusting his suit, the man approached the doors and closed them firmly. "I hope you do not mind my asking his retention, Sister, but I have several questions." Celestia simply hummed, reclining in her seat and resting her hands in her lap. The strange gaunt fellow certainly piqued Celestia's attention, his earlier icy words having awakened a sense of dread with which Celestia was all too familiar. "You have new insights into my daughter's arrival..." It wasn't a question, and was spoken with a bluntness that could only belong to her sister.

"We've completed our dissection of the two unidentified creatures, a far more involved process than the autopsy of the Adult Female." Aquila explained as he took a seat, reaching into his jacket and withdrawing a purple cigarette packet. He plucked a familiar purple and beige cylinder from within, setting it between his lips. Luna seemed slightly annoyed by the term 'Adult Female', as far as Celestia new her name had been 'Sokol'... "The Female is undoubtedly a Drake, though as suspected she lacks the bile sacks necessary for fire breath." The man paused, then sighed in uncertainty.

"We also found evidence of arcane genetic enhancements that... Frankly, are far too advanced for us to fully grasp." He continued cautiously. "They were dormant prior to her arrival here... For example, she possesses an astonishing healing factor, even by draconic standards. Though deceased, the wounds she sustained nonetheless mended themselves. It made the autopsy quite difficult." The Director rubbed at the back of his neck. "Had she been exposed to our realm's ambient arcane energy for longer, I doubt she would have succumb to her wounds. It is... Unfortunate." Aquila offered meagerly.

"Our theory as to Princess Orzel's continuing development is all but assured, she should reach complete physiological maturity by age eighteen without adverse affects." The man clasped his hands behind his back, taking a more matter-of-fact posture. "I cannot attest that the process will not be unpleasant, but there should be little risk of lifelong illness. Quite contrary, if she shares her Mother's healing ability I dare say there's little chance she'll ever succumb to natural causes. That's not to say she's 'immortal', just... Very durable, much like an Alicorn. I would seriously consider running a few experiments to-" The man stopped as soon as he saw Luna's darkening eyes. "Never mind." Aquilla's features grew serious. "The creatures are a far more disturbing matter... Our analysis indicates they are memetic beings."

"Memetic beings...?" Both Celestia and Luna said in shocked unison, Aquila nodded solemnly and withdrew a battered silvery flip lighter from his pocket. Lighting his cigarette, he took a long drag and exhaled through his nose. The stress of his job was obviously substantial, and mention of 'Memetic Beings' made the reasoning all the clearer. Creatures that could change shape weren't unknown to Equestria, but often times they were not the benevolent sort. Between the glowing green blood and black chitinous armor, Celestia could only come to one conclusion...

"They were Changelings?" The elder Princess probed, Aquila took another drag on his cigarette before nodding. He paused for a moment, exhaled, then shook his head noncommittally. The Changelings were a race of insect like humanoids, once notorious for their brutal raids upon frontier villages in the past. Like Drakes, the Changelings generally preferred to take what they needed rather than barter for it, though in the latter's case that generally involved kidnapping people to an often unknown but doubtlessly terrible fate. The last Changeling raid, however, had taken place more then three centuries ago. They were considered now by many to be little more than legends or folktales... Celestia knew for a fact, they were very very real. "Well were they or weren't they, Director?"

"They are and they aren't..." Aquila explained in that cryptic way of his, setting his palms on the table. "Individually they lack an ability for higher reasoning or shape shifting beyond the most basic of alterations, and in addition to emotion seemed to rely heavily on a carnivorous diet. Dissection of the stomach revealed copious amounts of brain matter, suggesting they take most of their nutrients from the limbic system." The Director shook his head. "It's unlike anything I've ever seen, honestly, as if the species from Princess Orzel's world are a de-evolved variant of our own." The man's eyes fell on Celestia, boring into her with unrelenting determination. "They have the lethal capacity to redefine brutality as we know it, we'd stand no chance against them were they to come here in force... It is only by the grace of the Gods that they lack the higher brain function to replicate the incident that brought Princess Orzel here. Even so, there may be others within their realm, others of higher ability and equally malicious intent."

"Yet Discord may be our best defense... Between the monsters and dictatorships, that world must truly must be a hellish place." Celestia muttered quietly, looking at Luna apologetically. "I've not experienced the effects of the Elements of Harmony first hand, at least not as you have, Sister. Could they be used as Aquila proposes? Is it possible to 'reform' Discord?" Celestia inwardly sighed when Luna's lips curled abruptly into a disgusted frown, her eyes looking pensively at the table. Discord and Luna had a history beyond their battle a thousand years ago, the Chaos God having taken something very precious to her sister, something that could never be replaced. "I realize you harbor no kindness towards him, Luna, but if he can help-"

"I doubt it can be done." The woman sharply declared, clenching her fists and gritting her teeth. When next she spoke, it was with bitter resentment. Celestia could see a fire in her sister's eyes, the very same that had raged in a fight they'd had countless lifetimes ago. Her heart ached for her sibling, recalling just what the battle with Discord had cost, or rather 'whom'... Things at the time were complicated, by a great many factors Celestia couldn't control. No matter how many centuries passed, the grieving rage that burned in her sister's soulful eyes was just as hot as when it had first sprung forth, much to Celestia's dismay. "For the Elements to reform a being, that being must at least have some sort of good quality within them. Be that compassion, kindness, love, or what have you... Discord is, without a doubt, the complete antithesis of good!" She spat, as if saying the name itself left a bad taste in her mouth.

Celestia nodded quietly, though she remained unconvinced that anyone could be truly totally devoid of 'good'. Discord could be cruel and underhanded, his brief rule of Equestria having been paradoxically despotic and anarchic. Yet in all the chaos he so reveled in, perhaps there was a decent thought or two, miniscule as they might have been. Compared to what Aquila described, there were far worse things to fear than Discord. If he could be reformed it would spell an end to the threat posed by the realm where Changelings were little more than mindless killing machines... The risk, slim as it may have been, was not one Celestia intended to leave unresolved.

"If my Sister doesn't object..." Celestia began, looking at Luna with as much compassion as she could. Her eyes then fell to Aquila, who at this point had already finished half of his cigarette. "I want you to begin working with Field Marshal Arcturus to make preparations for Discord's reformation." Luna remained quiet, folding her hands into her lap while her wings fluttered with agitation. "This takes precedence over any other program on or off the books. Whatever resources you need, Director, you've got a blank check."

"Understood, ma'am." Aquila stated simply, crushing his cigarette in the ashtray before once more gathering his files and rising from his seat. "I need to make a few phone calls, if I may take my leave?" Celestia nodded, and without another word the Director was on his way out the door. The two Princesses sat silently for what felt like an eternity, though the ticking clock on the wall indicated only a minute or two had passed. Celestia's mind wandered through all sorts of probabilities and likelihoods, though disaster compartmentalization was always more Luna's forte. Looking at her sister, it was clear to Celestia that the woman was once again deep in thought, so the elder Princess did what she felt would get the conversation moving again. She rose from her seat, offered to help Luna do the same, and gestured out into the hallway.

"Walk with me." She insisted, her smiling face somehow completely clear despite the swirling puffs of lingering smoke. Luna took her hand and stood up, straightening her gown and following Celestia towards the door. The pair emerged into a quiet and rather plainly decorated section of the castle, well off the beaten path of tours or public viewing. There was an occasional painting to break up the otherwise featureless stone walls, but aside from that this area was far more utilitarian. Bringing her magic to her palm, Celestia encapsulated Luna and herself briefly in a sphere of golden light. It dissipated as quickly as it formed, taking with it the stench of tobacco smoke that would likely have been stuck in their clothes and hair for weeks. "What's on your mind, Little Sister?"

"A great many things, Celestia" Luna admitted, clasping her hands behind her back as she walked beside Celestia. "The 'open door' in the Arcane Barrier, the autopsy on Sokol, the Changelings from another world, Discord's apparent return. One eventful night in the Garden has everything unraveling." The woman shook her head, looking briefly out one of the hallway windows at the city beyond. "On a more personal note... Despite my urging, Aquila has yet to release the body of Orzel's mother for burial, nor has he released Orzel's family sword. Now he wishes to reform one of our worst enemies to aid us against an even greater threat... And on top of all that? Orzel is fighting me on the matter of attending dance classes."

"Is that all?" Celestia asked with a small hint of mirth, apparently earning a chuckle from the dour Princess beside her. While it was true that today was filled with all sorts of crises, Celestia found it all about an average day of stress. Luna had yet to fully experience a national crisis, her 'dramatic return' not withstanding. "Let's start with the simplest problems first. As I recall, Aquila answers directly to you. Order him to release the remains and the sword, problem solved."

"I have... Despite what he told us in back there, he says his scientists are still 'finalizing their analysis'." Luna groaned, rubbing at her forehead with her right hand. "My next step would be to fire him, or to send a detachment of Marines to remove both Sokol's remains and the sword by force." Bringing her hand behind her back, Luna shook her head and cast her eyes upon the floor. "Despite this hiccup, Aquila has done remarkable work... I fear his scientific interests have outpaced his common sense in this matter, however." Celestia hummed, reconsidering her suggestions. Things could never be easy when it came to the Nocturne Agency, very rarely did they willingly give anything up... Even asking to borrow a paperclip from them was akin to pulling teeth.

"Alright, put a pin in that one." Conceded Celestia, rolling her shoulders as the pair drew near an intersection that branched off towards the Castle's West Wing. This area of the hallway was gradually becoming more and more decorated, though with pieces that seemed quite out of date. She'd have to see about getting the area a bit more with the times, as well as getting the existing paintings restored. Years of sitting in the sunny hallway, virtually unattended, was doing little to ensure their posterity. "Orzel not wanting to attend dance classes is frustrating, but you of all people know that ballroom dancing isn't for everyone."

"It is not just about dancing." Luna explained, sounding a bit less annoyed than before. Her posture was relaxing, just getting out of the situation room was likely doing wonders to help her state of mind. "I could teach her to dance if I so chose, but what I cannot do on my own is expose her to life, nor can I craft friends for her from thin air..." Celestia quirked an eyebrow, then nodded in agreement with her sister's reasoning. There were some things that simply couldn't be taught in a classroom, something Celestia was all too familiar with. Her solution to the particular problem in question was to send Twilight Sparkle to Ponyville, though admittedly with a slight ulterior motive... There was a thought.

"Maybe you should send her to visit Twilight Sparkle?" Celestia suggested idly, her eyes carefully roving over Luna's face for any sign of her reaction. Her younger sister was understandably rather protective of Orzel, and sending her out into Canterlot was probably a hard decision. Sending her daughter to an entirely different town, into the care of a woman perhaps no more than four or five years older than Orzel herself, had to be an unthinkable prospect by comparison. Luna's implacable exterior melted into one of mixed uncertainty and apprehension. "It could be good for her to meet Spike. They're both around the same age, and in similar situations."

"Spike?" Luna asked with a bit more shock than Celestia had expected. "No... No boys, not until she is older. Much, much older..." At this Celestia stopped walking, putting her hands on her hips and giving Luna an unsubtle frown. If her latest observations of Orzel's behavior were to be believed, Spike probably wasn't the only person Luna would need to worry about. Luna seemed to pick up on her sister's meaning, once again pursing her lips with quiet realization. "I see your point, and while I am certain he is a sweet boy... What if putting them together sends the wrong message?" Celestia began walking again, briefly jogging to catch up with her sister. "Orzel tells me arranged marriages were common in the Szafirian Empire, and that such a fate was likely what awaited her as well. I would not want her to think that her being sent to Ponyville and meeting spike is a prelude to some sort of... Engagement."

"It's just something to consider." Offered Celestia, frowning slightly as her stomach growled. The nature of Orzel's country of birth didn't make things easy, and while they'd managed to break her out of the control the stigma placed on her being a member of the 'Warrior Caste' held upon her, there was still a lot of work that needed to be done before she fully assimilated into Equestrian society. On that thought, Celestia was reminded of something else. "Oh, by the way. I've been looking into a few psychotherapists and counselors for Orzel, I'd like you to look over the short list and give me your thoughts. Now that she can speak Equestrian we've got a lot more options."

"I will examine the list and vet the names tonight..." Luna agreed, sighing slightly and pinching the bridge of her nose. "For now, I believe we have an apocalypse to prevent." Celestia nodded sagely as the two turned down another approaching intersection. The situation with Discord and the 'Chaotic Realm' had to take priority, the rest of their daily duties would need to wait. It would mean a week's worth of backlogged petitions and schedule juggling, just one of the hazards of being a Princess...

Miss Pirouette's class had gone categorically well, at least until they'd come to the 'slow dance' portion. It was at that point that Orzel's patience reached its limit, there was simply no way she would dance so closely to anyone. It may have been acceptable in Equestria, but not within the Empire. Close contact between a girl and a boy was yet another activity strictly regulated for the 'Good of the State'. Like many things she'd discovered in Equestria, Orzel wasn't altogether put off by the idea of close dancing with someone she actually liked... Even so, she'd had far too much change for one day, and she wasn't all that fond of High Tower. This ultimately led to her excusing herself from class several minutes early, not an insanely large amount of time, something to hopefully cushion the blow when Luna inevitably found out.

That left Orzel once again free to wander the streets of Canterlot, her two hulking chaperones hidden even from her own sight. With nowhere she needed to be, the teen was simply going wherever her heart fancied. The independence to go wherever she wanted... That was a change she'd prepared for, and it was a sensation that she found more intoxicating with each quiet thud of her shoes against the sidewalk. There still existed an occasional urge to check over her shoulder for the odd MIS Agent, but even these were greatly diminished from their earlier strength.

Trucks and cars meandered about in their orderly lanes, some decorated with large advertisements for all manner of things from soap to clothing to beer and even cigars. Just as with her first trip outside the castle, however, Orzel's attention was most drawn to the occasional motorcycle that darted among the traffic. Their engines growled a sputtering baritone whenever their riders zoomed past, tremendously loud machines that demanded attention and respect. Perhaps it was the cool confidence with which their operators handled themselves, or maybe the dangerous physics involved in maintaining ones balance while blazing along at breakneck speeds. Whatever the reason, Orzel wanted one... It certainly would've been easier than walking.

Of course, the girl suspected Luna would say Orzel was still far too young for such a vehicle, or any vehicle for that matter. The woman would probably be furious if her daughter somehow managed to bring one of the illustrious machines home. Tucking her hands into her pockets, Orzel sighed and continued along her merry way. When she was older she'd get one for herself, though as to how she'd finance the endeavor? Well, that was a matter better left for 'Future Orzel' to solve. As it stood she had only the Bits in her pocket, twenty or so that Luna had given to her as reward for her first successful enchantment class. Enough to purchase a dozen new model kits, or a decent assortment of quality hardcover books, but nothing as frivolous as an automobile or motorcycle.

It was part of another concept Luna made a distinct point of mentioning, that being the 'value of money'. Orzel didn't really see what her Mother was so insistent about, the concept seemed fairly straightforward. Twenty Bits were worth Twenty Bits. Though, as she thought on it more, perhaps it had to do with just what Twenty Bits could purchase... What one did with that Twenty Bits to get the most value out of it. The teen hummed thoughtfully, rubbing her chin while looking about her surroundings. The stores all around her seemed to cater to people like High Tower or the other students at the dance studio. Twenty Bits would get her little within their walls, though frankly she didn't see much of anything she liked anyway.

Men and women passed her on either side, barely paying Orzel any mind as they moved about their own lives. Most were well dressed, carrying purses or wearing suits like those advertised in the windows of so many nearby tailors. Yet most of their faces seemed distant and blank, with lips tugging subtly downwards. How many Bits did they carry? Orzel could only guess, but surely more than twenty. Disturbingly, their expressions were anything but new to her. Those few nobles she'd seen blurrily in Cesarski wore scowls much the same, and they were most certainly well supplied with Imperial Grosz.

The minutes gradually dragged on whilst Orzel continued her mid-afternoon stroll, over the course of which it seemed the city around her grew more and more upscale. Buildings towered higher than even the massive industrial chimneys, their facades decorated in an appealing blend of Art-Deco and Neo-Classical aesthetic. Great carved columns and vaulted archways lined the exterior of each titanic construct of steel and concrete. It invigorated her mind to imagine what it must've been like to build such a structure, especially considering the great height at which Canterlot already sat. It certainly took men and women of a courageous, or perhaps foolish, sort. Orzel couldn't see most of the people that used the buildings actually working on their construction, but she supposed anything was possible.

The cars here were far sleeker in aesthetic design than those Orzel had seen outside the castle, with flowing curvacious lines, polished chrome and glossy paint. Like seemingly everything in the Downtown area, each car was designed with form over function in mind. Their hood ornaments generally displayed a stylized statuette of Aunt Celestia, the logo of Solare Automotive Industries. One of the more expensive brands on the market, SAI prided itself more on appearance and comfort than overall performance. Orzel's notes found them to be one of the least reliable brands in the country, according to her ongoing research into internal combustion, so she had to wonder why she saw so many of the glorified paperweights sputtering around.

Given how expensive things appeared in this section of town, however, perhaps their owners weren't as concerned with performance as they were with appearances... Orzel understood the desire to look nice, but trading quality for flashy appearances didn't sit well with her. She'd worn the same pair of shoes for nearly five years before coming to Equestria, her Mother and Father modifying them as best they could to accommodate her growing feet. It was cheaper than buying a new pair every year or so, even if the discomfort was more or less nearly unbearable by her fifteenth birthday. She doubted a car from SAI could last five years, not without a major overhaul... Would it even be worth saving at that point?

On the subject of uncomfortable footwear, Orzel was becoming increasingly aware of an ache with every step she took. Glancing at a large clock situated atop a dark metal pole at the center of a nearby intersection, she came to the startling realization that she'd been walking aimlessly for nearly two hours. Her stomach growled in protest, further signaling that perhaps it was time to take a moment to recuperate. She was surrounded by little more than townhouses and upscale apartment complexes, though there still lingered a few stores. Nowhere to really sate her growing hunger, but perhaps somewhere to rest her feet.

Ahead of Orzel, only a block or two away, was what appeared to be a line of green trees, undoubtedly part of some inner city park. Parks tended to have benches, at least the few ones she'd visited prior to her arrival in Equestria. Resting her feet in a peaceful enclave of nature had a genuine appeal, presenting a chance to see and smell another aspect of Canterlot she hadn't even known existed. The distance gradually closed, her progress hampered only by the crosswalks and the efficiency of assigned traffic policemen. The leaves fluttered gently upon their branches at the edge of the park, joined by tall hedges concealing the grass beneath. The park itself was enclosed by a fence of iron bars and brick, though it seemed more an aesthetic choice than one of security...

The girl stopped hesitantly before an arched gateway, pausing to read a tarnished bronze plaque affixed to one of the brick pillars. Despite obvious neglect, the plaque nonetheless bore its age with stoic poise, defying the elements that had so gradually reduced its former luster. Orzel adjusted her spectacles, taking in the words with quiet interest. Statesman Park, named in memory of the author of 'For The Republic'. The teen could only marvel at the fascinating coincidence, that she would happen upon such a place so recently after reading his work... A work that raised almost as many questions about herself as it had given answers.

Passing through the gate, Orzel tucked her hands into her pockets and began her search for a bench upon which to rest her tired body. The large expanse of verdant foliage almost completely drowned out the tumult of the city, with the invigorating scent of freshly cut grass dominating all other aromas. Stone pathways meandered and curved around small knolls or dips in the landscaping, the closest of which briefly ran along the edge of a modestly sized pond. Orzel was more interested in the series of rounded stone tables and aged wooden chairs, set up there beneath the shady trees at the shore of that shimmering mirror of water.

Shuffling along at a slower pace, Orzel spotted a pair of women seated at one of the tables, apparently in the middle of eating lunch judging by the food wrappers set before them. They were likely in their mid to late twenties from what Orzel could gather, with one wearing a rather professional suit and skirt while the other little more than a ratty tank top and pants made from that same indigo twill fabric. As if their choice of clothing wasn't different enough, the woman in the suit had dark hair that went down to her shoulders, each strand of which being carefully combed and styled. Her more casual counterpart had the spikiest electric blue hair Orzel had ever seen, and wore an odd pair of purple lens sunglasses. From what the girl could gather, the two were just chatting with one another, paying her no mind as she took a seat at one of the tables a few feet away. Realistically it didn't matter to Orzel if they did or didn't, she wasn't there to socialize, only to take in the sights and give her legs a rest.

Orzel's eyes fell upon the nearly undisturbed pond to her right, the reflections of several tall buildings serving as a reminder that she was still within the confines of a bustling metropolis. Water grass pierced its surface in several places, with small cattails swaying in the breeze. A pair of white swans scooted about with a tiny contingent of swanlings following in their wake, and it was this small bevy of water fowl that accounted for occasional ripples in the water's surface. A growing sense of anxiety formed in Orzel's mind, fueled by rising emotional dissonance at the sight of such a happy family. It was something that Orzel was beginning to doubt she'd ever experienced, or could ever experience now...

Even as she came to resent what her parents stood for, they nonetheless remained her parents, and she could only imagine just how disappointed they would be to see what she'd become. They were only human, she realized that intellectually, but emotionally she couldn't make the disconnect. Even before coming to Equestria, there existed a sort of distance growing between herself and her family... Mother still insisted on spending as much time with her as possible, but Orzel always felt that had more to do with preparing her for an arranged marriage. For all her Mother's strength, it was obvious the woman was terrified of what would become of Orzel if such a marriage couldn't be secured.

Watching the swans meander around, nuzzling one another, helping their babies along when necessary, it did something to Orzel... Without realizing it at first, she felt her eyes begin to water. Quickly she removed her spectacles and wiped them with her sleeve, not wanting them to fog up. Taking a sharp breath through her nose, Orzel set her jaw and closed her eyes. A Princess couldn't be seen crying in public, what sort of message would that send? Such weakness had no place in a strong ruler, even if it was brought on by grief...

So Orzel did what she always did when troubled by emotion, she attempted to mentally beat it into submission. Violently shoving the heartache deep down, somewhere where it couldn't hurt her anymore, the girl practically trembled with anxious energy before finally exhaling and opening her eyes. It was then that she was acutely aware that the two chatting women had stopped talking, so Orzel quickly replaced her spectacles and looked around. The two were looking at her with curious concern, though neither said anything, at least not until the woman with the blue hair nudged her companion with her foot.

"Are you alright, love?" The Professional asked in an oddly accented form of Equestrian, to which Orzel simply nodded and shakily stood to her feet. They still ached, but she feared that if she opened her mouth the thoughts would pour forth without end. The last thing a Princess should do was to dump every feeling of insecurity onto a pair of complete strangers, or anyone for that matter. It could never be allowed to see the light of day. Ever. How could they possibly understand her inner turmoil, they'd probably just tell her the platitudes typical of the uninitiated. 'Things will get better.', or the more infuriating 'You just need to think more positively.'... As if just 'thinking positively' would fix anything. Orzel just wanted to go home, to curl up with her books, and go to sleep forever...

Sleep seemed the only escape from the hellish storm of emotional war that raged ever onwards beneath a thin veneer of calm, a veneer so perfect that sometimes it even fooled Orzel into thinking she was alright... But she wasn't 'alright', she was never 'alright'. Not truthfully. She dulled her senses with books and music and models, any hobby or skill she sought to learn was only a means of prolonging the confrontation between herself and the yawning cavernous abyss that threatened ceaselessly to consume her. Sometimes it got so bade that she had thoughts that there was nothing in life that made it worth living, that she was a mistake, a degenerate piece of garbage, that if she had a soul it was wholly unworthy of saving. They would go away for a time, but eventually they always came back... Without warning they'd emerge, just as they were now, every time attacking her sanity with increasing strength...

Orzel then became acutely aware of a lack of oxygen, in her panic she'd forgotten to take a breath... Stupid... She hadn't realized it, but the woman with blue hair was standing now, gradually guiding her to a spare seat at their table.

"Take a breath, a big deep breath." The woman urged in a scratchy voice, Orzel complied with a shuddering gasp that surprised even herself with its volume. Reality snapped back into focus, the colors more vibrant than moments before. Whenever her mind spiraled out of control, the entire world would enter a morphing gray-scale, further fueling the mental firestorm. That simple act of taking a breath, however, wiped the slate nearly completely clean. Orzel was back in control, tentatively, though she wasn't sure how long that would last. "There, nice and easy." Orzel took another breath, her mouth suddenly very dry. "Better?" The girl nodded, now letting her eyes fall the ground, as she couldn't look either of the women in the eyes without feeling ashamed of herself... "Do you have someone you want us to call?"

"Y-Yes..." Orzel responded shakily in Equestrian, taking several more deep breaths through her nose. She couldn't help wondering just where Grim and Fable were, as her two bodyguards seemed generally pretty protective of her outside the Castle walls. She looked around for any sign of the hulking behemoths, but they were nowhere to be seen. Had they abandoned her? Left her to fend for herself in the city without any sort of warning? Perhaps they agreed she wasn't worth protecting. Orzel had no way of telling either way, they were remarkably adept at remaining unseen. The two strangers she'd come to hesitate speaking with now seemed her only hope of getting home. In order to do that, however, she'd need to speak Equestrian. Bracing herself for the humiliation of butchering the language, Orzel spoke once more. "Mother works at Cass-Hill, con-tact guard house, ask them to be sending car for Orzel... They will know what means." The teen pinched the bridge of her nose, leaning against the table. "Please... Wait sever-all mean-ehts, need to be clear-ring my head." She chanced a look at the two of them, noting the concern still evident on their faces. "Thank you... Am fine."

"You're most certainly welcome." The Professional said with a small smile, patting Orzel on the shoulder. "It's going to take me some time to find a phone booth. Why don't you stay with her, Vinyl?" She stood from her seat, adjusting her suit jacket while the woman with the tank top nodded in the affirmative. Orzel felt a pang of guilt at having interrupted their lunch, yet another item to toss onto a growing pile of things she'd undoubtedly spend the better part of that night tossing and turning over.

"No problem, Tavi!" Vinyl responded with metered cheerfulness, obviously attempting to put on a comforting face. The Professional, 'Tavi' apparently, gave one final nod and began walking towards a path leading to one of the park gates. That left Orzel and Vinyl to sit in silence, broken only by the distant thrum of Canterlot and occasionally a squawk from the swan pond. "So, your name's Orzel?" Orzel nodded, biting her lower lip and anxiously drumming her fingers on the table. "I'm guessing your parents aren't here..." The teen once again nodded, this time with a bit more hesitance. Picking up on this, Vinyl smiled sadly and removed her sunglasses. "I get it, I'm a stranger... Even so, do you mind if I ask what got you so upset?"

"The birds." Orzel admitted, looking at the family of swans on the pond. Perhaps telling a stranger would help, it was more than likely this woman didn't know Orzel's true nature, or anyone else Orzel knew for that matter... The teen could afford to be a bit more honest. "Re-mind-dead me of family... Birth Mother and Father are gone." Vinyl winced slightly, but a look of curiosity nonetheless stirred to life in her wine colored eyes. "Is okay, I have new family... In some ways, is better." Orzel looked guiltily back at the table, just then noting the wrappers for two chicken sandwiches that Vinyl and Tavi had apparently been enjoying before she'd inadvertently interrupted them. "More like birds." Vinyl hummed thoughtfully, rubbing her chin while Orzel grimaced. "Much on my mind... You under-stand, yes? Is diff-eh-cult to put-tings in your tongue..." She trailed off, before quietly adding. "I stop now, do not want to be of both-her."

"It's not like I have anywhere else to be." Assured Vinyl, folding her hands into her lap. She reclined with a bit more poise than Orzel had expected given her appearance, her features becoming slightly harder to read. There was still a sort of confidence that Orzel couldn't quite discern the source of, but it seemed remarkably out of place all things considered. "Believe it or not, but you aren't the only person to feel that way about their family, adoptive or otherwise. What about your adoptive family makes you think they're 'better'?" Orzel paused for a moment, looking off to the side in quiet contemplation... She wasn't sure how much she could say without damaging her public image, or the image of Luna for that matter.

"They support me, deh-spite me being diff-air-rent..." Orzel quietly explained, lacing her fingers together and looking back at the table. "My bi-o-lo-gic parents.... Not so much." The girl sighed, leaning back in her seat while Vinyl nodded and let out a slight hum. "I worry they would diss-own me, if still alive. Not sure I would blame them..."

Vinyl let out another hum, but Orzel wasn't comfortable going into further detail, not if she wasn't prompted first. Given how Orzel's day had been going, middling and now leaning towards bad, the teen figured she'd be waiting for her ride for quite some time. Eventually things would get quiet, she'd feel nervous, then start blabbing about things she shouldn't to fill the uncomfortable silence. It seemed they had already toppled that domino, and now all that remained was for Orzel to keep from making a fool of herself. Any more than she already had...