Benighted

Nightmare Moon, God-Empress of Benighted Equestria, stood alone on a balcony overlooking her starlit realm. Her teal eyes swept across the landscape, taking note of the flickering points of light that seemed to mimic her star-studded sky. These were not signs of defiance or rebellion against her Eternal Night, however, but of a burgeoning nocturnal civilization. Once cold and abandoned townships now thrummed with activity as her subjects endeavored to resettle after their prolonged confinement in the major cities. Carriage teams, convoys and other transports traveled along the roadways that Imperial engineers and hordes of laborers had worked tirelessly to restore. A prideful smile crossed the Usurper’s lips as she spotted a wing of pegasi depart Canterlot with mail carriers in tow; civilians on business rather than legionnaires on mission.

“With travel comes commerce.” Moon mused aloud as she pulled her silken bed robe tighter to ward off the chilly mountain breeze. “And with commerce comes industry.”

The Dark Alicorn knew it would not be long before the factories, shipyards and other means of production would resume operation; cottage industries and salvage could only do so much to sustain an empire. Already she had received supplicants and letters from representatives of all economic sectors seeking her wisdom, benediction or a simple material boon. One such solicitor, a train conductor, had actually sparked a vital reform with a simple but age-old question: what time was it?

“Hmhm, one would think the trains would always been on time if it was always midnight.” The Empress said with a short laugh as she noticed one such train rumble off toward distant Manehatten. “But I suppose Eternal Night does not have to mean eternal moonlight.”

Thus, Moon had reestablished the diel cycle, sans the sun of course, and implemented a lunar calendar. The night was now divided between periods of moonlight and starlight while the moon cycled through its phases. Such was the Nightmare’s control over the vault of the heavens that she could maintain perfect equinox between ‘moontime’ and ‘startime’ in addition to setting exactly how long a lunation took. With seasons, save winter, nonexistent, concepts such as leap years and daylight savings time were now obsolete.

“Good riddance.” Moon huffed as she shifted her gaze up to the eastern horizon. “That always seemed so arbitrary.”

The Empress ignited her long horn and reached out to her beloved satellite. As her simpler, weaker self once did, she raised the full pale moon into the sky. It bathed the benighted land below in its silver light, heralding what had been calculated to be the fifteenth night of the eleventh month of the first year of the Nightmare’s reign. The Dark Alicorn spread her arms and basked in the glow of her namesake as it illuminated the soaring towers of Canterlot.

“Good night, my little ponies.” Moon greeted her subjects at large as she completed her nightly ritual. “I sense this one will be… special.”

After spending a few more moments surveying her prospering empire, the Empress retreated back into her private chambers. She half expected to find Chrysalis lounging in her bed or, perhaps, their frustratingly elusive silent partner. Instead, all that greeted her was a fresh stack of paperwork and the court itinerary. The midnight mare nickered in disappointment as she scanned over the schedule to see what tedium was in store for her tonight.

“Saber rattling from Gryphondom; I can ignore that… property disputes between nobles; just sanction a duel… corporations butting heads with unions already; nothing threating right to work laws and nationalization can’t fix… Hmph.” The Empress of Eternal Night shook her head as she moved on to her wardrobe. “By my Moon, some ponies will find anything to complain about. At least my New Populace seems content.”

To Moon’s delight and vindication, her small but growing collection of tantibus-blessed mortals had proven to be a great boon to her nascent empire. The two most recent additions, in particular, deserved due credit for making the realm’s burgeoning prosperity a reality. The former apple farmer had done what was long thought impossible and brought the wild Everfree to heel, allowing for the reclamation and repair of vital infrastructure. The former animal caretaker, for her part, was quick to establish dominance over the eclectic monsters that roamed the wilds, thereby making travel throughout the empire considerably safer.

“Granted, the Countess went on a rampage beforehand and the Panetier is *ah* unique even among her peers.” Moon gasped slightly as the cool air braced her divine curves after shedding her robe. “Fortunately, the Champion and Herald were able to bring them into the fold.”

The prismatic New Pegasus had demonstrated that she possessed talents beyond show flying. From reigning in the Long Winter to hunting down malcontents to representing the might of the empire to those not under the Dark Alicorn’s direct rule, Nightbolt Dash was a multifaceted mare in a both literal and figurative sense. However, in times where even her speed, precision and moxie were not enough, the draconic Champion was summoned. Spike, a flying armored hulk with a built-in flamethrower, was a sledgehammer solution to practical problems but a deft one. Any dullard could rip apart a griffon airship but it took skill to do so while ensuring the wreck landed harmlessly in the ocean while securing the treasure hold. Together, the Herald and Champion made an effective team and, if the salacious display in the awesome Stratofortress was an indication, spectacular lovers.

“Along with the Apple mare and the Enchantress.” The Usurper felt a twinge in her bare nethers as she thought of the expansive family tree Spike was cultivating. “Speaking of, she is due any night now…”

Vanity, the first New Unicorn and soon-to-be mother, was the only one of those chosen few who seemed unsatisfied. This was not to say that she was rebellious or harbored treasonous thoughts but rather she felt lacking. Her friends and lover commanded fantastic power and played such key roles in the Empire while all she did was make new clothes and uniforms while her pregnancy progressed. The former fashionista was the Imperial Enchantress not a mere stay-at-home seamstress and had expressed as much to the Empress. As a benevolent goddess, Moon had assured her subject that her role would expand once her child had been brought into the cold, dark yet gentle world.

“If I recall, she possesses the ability to detect precious mineral deposits.” The Benighted Alicorn mused as she decided on a variation of her armored panoply; better suited to displaying her heavenly body than protecting it. “Combined with her crystalline magic and the fact we can reach the old mines now…”

Filing the thought away for later, Moon donned her regalia for the night and inspected herself in a mirror. Satisfied she exuded sensual beauty and uncompromising power in equal measure, the Empress retrieved the stack of missives and gave the itinerary a more thorough reading. One item that piqued her interest amiss the sea of routine boredom was an appointment between herself and her vassal Hive Queen Chrysalis. As tonight was a full moon, it was a perfect time to bring the changeling matron’s pet into the New Populace.

“None too soon either. The ratio between bra-bursting beauties and statuesque studs needs balancing.” The Nightmare tapped her chin in thought. “Hmm, perhaps if would be best to add the eldest Apple sibling and the Commander while we’re at it. Then again, we’ve only ever done one at a time and stallions of their caliber are too valuable to waste of experimentation.”

Her ruminations were interrupted by the muted yet unmistakable ‘thrum-thrum’ of a dragon in flight. She glanced back out at the balcony just in time to see a hulking shadow cut across the sky. A prismatic contrail followed shortly after, following along in the drake’s wake. A knowing smiled crossed Moon’s features as she inferred her Champion and Herald were paying a visit to the soon-to-be agricultural heart of her Empire.

“Hmhmhm, to slake a mighty thirst, no doubt.” The God-Empress chuckled to herself. “I’m tempted to join them but, alas, the Empire won’t run itself.”

With that, the Tyrant of the Tantibi ignited her horn once more and melted into the deep shadows that permeated her realm. While a simple teleport spell or even just flying to the throne room would have sufficed, the Fallen Alicorn knew the value of theatrics in politics. Plus, she had to admit, it was far more fun.

Imperial Champion Spike soared across the moonlit sky, freshly invigorated by a stabilized sleep schedule and a full meal of gemstones. What was more, he was relieved to be on a simple errand and not on a mission where he could be shot at, crushed by blimps, jumped by an entire bestiary or drained by vampires. No, this was a simple delivery of Vanity designed work uniforms and attending a groundbreaking ceremony hosted by the blonde beaut once known as Applejack.

“Still not sure if she landed on Timberjack, Applewood, Sourapple or something else.” Spike mentally wondered as he adjusted the straps of the harness attaching him to the shipping container trailing behind him. “Hell, I still go by ‘Spike’ so she could just stick with AJ.”

As he cleared the towers of Canterlot heading toward open air, he passed by what he recognized as Her Majesty’s private abode. The New Dragon was not about to fly in unannounced but he did steal a quick peek on the off chance of catching the Dark Alicorn in a state of undress. His voyeuristic goal was thwarted by his Empress being decent but he did notice a flash of color out of the corner of his eye.

“Ah, Nightbolt Dash.” The Imperial Champion briefly considered slowing down to allow his friend to catch up but realized that would not be necessary. “Question is which one?”

“Hey! Spike!” The New Pegasus called out over the roaring wind. “Playing delivery boy again?”

“Yeah!” Spike waved to the quickly approaching stuntmare. “Stuff for AJ!”

“Cool! Jackie sent me an invite for her thing! I’ll come with!” Dash grinned as she fell in beside him. “I’m impressed, Spike, I actually had to try to catch up with you!”

“The other Dashes make good trainers.” The tyrian drake mused to himself as he identified one of the four New Pegasi that comprised Nightbolt Dash. “Or momma Dash here is out of practice.”

“Thanks!” The Champion wisely kept that last bit to himself. “How have you been?”

“Much better now that I got a chance to stretch my wings!” The sapphire speedster punctuated this by doing a quick barrel roll around him. “I hate being grounded and I’m sure lil’ Spikey does too!”

Nightbolt patted the slight maternal swell made prominent by her tight flight suit. The sight stoked a paternal pride in the New Dragon as well as pangs of sympathy. While the other three Dashes were free to indulge in their daredevil nature, this one was forced to rein it in for her own sake and that of their child's.

“But you can’t placate a mare like Dash with gym sessions and Daring Do binge marathons for long.” The Champion thought as his amazonian lover elated in the freedom of flight. “Free spirit and all that jazz.”

“Hrm.” The tyrian drake grunted in agreement as he reached out and rubbed her gravid belly like a good luck charm.

A mischievous smile crossed his snout as he moved his claws over her hips and settled on her rear. He gave the callipygian cheeks a playful squeeze, finding that while there was still plenty of firm sculpted muscle, this Dash had gained a bit more cushion than her other selves. This earned a slightly embarrassed scoff from the Herald.

“Yeah, I’ve put on a bit of weight I can’t blame on being knocked up!” The sapphire stuntmare admitted before she gave him an impish smirk. “Wanna take a pit stop and help me burn some of it off?”

Dash flicked the zipper of the jacket she wore over her suit to make sure the New Dragon got the hint. The Champion considered taking her up on the offer as he had been in a bit of a dry spell since his encounter with the vampire in the dungeons. The dutiful part of his mind reminded him he had errands to run but that he should also make time for the mother of one of his children.

“I got to remember that momma Dash is more or less her own being until she rejoins the rest.” Spike mentally admonished himself for neglect. “Fooling around with the other Dashes does nothing for this one.”

“Once I’m finished!” The hulking drake said as he gave her a playful spank. “We can grab lunch!”

“Haha! It’s a date then!” Nightbolt’s smirk morphed into a genuine smile. “Just to remind you, I don’t go for that sappy romantic junk like Vanity!”

“Right, we just need to smack each other around for a bit as foreplay.” Spike winced slightly at the vivid memory of just how she had joined his growing horde. “Let’s dial it back to cider and chill this go around.”

Non-sappy romantic plans set for the night, the two flew out of Canterlot airspace and over the plains surrounding the looming mountain. Down below, the Imperial Champion spotted the ruined township of Ponyville. Like most settlements in the flourishing empire, life was slowly returning to the famous hamlet. Specks of light could be seen from workers repairing the neglected buildings and new residents turning dwellings into homes. Conspicuously, they avoided the center of town where the Castle of Friendship still stood.

“Surprised Empress Moon hasn’t leveled it yet.” Spike mused as an odd nostalgia tingled his thoughts. “Maybe she’s leaving it as a ‘monument to the princesses' failure’ or something.”

As he passed over the abandoned edifice, he noticed something was off about it. The last time he had been in Princess Sparkle’s seat of power was he, still the servile sycophant of an undeserving Alicorn, had been entrusted to recover its extensive library. At the time, the pellucid palace was relatively intact save for some vandalism on the exterior and lack of maintenance inside. Now, the crystalline tree appeared withered and decayed like some blight had taken hold and was now rotting it from within. The New Dragon was certain it was not Moon’s, Chrysalis’s or any other imperial’s doing so he could not help but wonder.

“Maybe it has something to do with most of the Element Bearer’s joining the Empire; it was a gift from the Tree of Harmony.” He thought as they left Ponyville behind. “Or maybe something is getting to Twilight…”

“Coming up on AJ’s place!” Nightbolt called out. “Wow! She works fast!”

Spike refocused on their destination and saw that the New Earth Pony had indeed been busy. The once swampy quagmire had been drained and wilted orchard stragglers cleared. The farmland lost to the encroaching Everfree had also been reclaimed and actually expanded beyond its old boundaries. In roughly the middle of the Acers, a sizable number of ponies had gathered amongst sets of tables and torches for illumination. Movement caught the champion’s eye and he saw someone waving lights at them, signaling them to land on a stone slab not far from a solitary and seemingly overgrown barn.

“Good! We’re expected!” Dash said as she dropped back behind the container. “Bring us in, Spikey!”

“Hrm!” The tyrian drake grunted as he angled into a descent.

With the Herald’s aid, Spike brought his cargo to rest with a solid bump. No sooner had he shed the harness did a swarm of equines crack open the container and unload its contents. The first thing the dark dragon noticed was the state of the workers; caked in mud and sweat, clothes a mishmash of tattered rags and fatigue evident on their sullen faces. They barely acknowledged the New Dragon nor his wingmate; an oddity considering their lofty positions within the Empire.

“Only seen Chrysalis’s drones work like this.” The dark dragon ran a claw through his fringe in awkwardness as he watched the ponies work. “I want to help but I think I’d just get in the way.”

“AJ must be beating her work ethic into her dudes.” Dash chuffed as she joined her partner. “Mind holding my jacket? I got to adjust my suit.”

“Sure.” Spike held out a claw only for the Shadowbolt emblazoned coat to slap him in the face.

A mischievous snicker joined his annoyed growl as he pulled off the offending article. Still smirking, Dash yanked off her gloves and held them in her teeth as tugged on the zipper of her flight suit. The mother-to-be gasped in relief as her maternally swollen bosom bounced free of its latex constraint. To Spike’s slight disappointment, the New Pegasus had worn a simple sports bra beneath her suit that nonetheless was struggling to contain the sapphire swell.

“The new girls got too big for Vanity’s built in padding.” The Herald admitted around her gloves as she peeled the top half of her suit off her limber frame and tied the sleeves into a knot around her waist. “Didn’t think the little guy would make we swell up so much.”

“Looking good.” Her lover made no effort to avert his lecherous gaze as he passed the jacket back.

“Course I do.” Dash stuffed the gloves into the pockets and donned the stylish coat, leaving it unzipped to allow her bust and belly to breath. “But I expect you to put those claws to work once I get milky.”

“Oh, I’ll use more than my claws, Dashie girl.” The draconic Champion let out a throaty rumble of anticipation.

“Well, howdy, y’all!” A new voice called cheerfully. “Glad you two could make it.”

Spike turned to see a vaguely familiar yellow-gold stallion approach with a huge grin. Much like his coworkers, the bare-chested Earth Pony was covered in filth and appeared to have worked double shifts without pause. What stood out the most to the Champion, however, was the hazy euphoric look in his eyes. He had seen similar in those under the effects of mind control like Chrysalis’s playthings but the farmstallion lacked the tell-tale insectoid green hue of the irises. The New Dragon searched his memory of the Sweet Apple Acers residents and associates but was unable to place a face before Dash beat him to it.

“Braeburn?” The prismatic New Pegasus squinted at the still smiling Appleloosa settler. "You're a long way from the frontier. How you've been?"

“Oh, just gin-cracking-dandy since I got back to honest work.” The genial Apple cousin rested his rough hands on his belt. “Hate to say it but Appleloosa's gone to pot so it was either fight with the buffalo over scraps or make the trip here to help my dear ol' cousin. Those our new uniforms?”

“Yep. Only Vanity’s best.” Dash answered for Spike as she rapped a knuckle against the container. “Even got a special order for AJ. She around?”

“She's about to give a presentation to some folks over yonder.” Braeburn pointed out into the fields where Spike could see a small group of equines milling about. “Don’t think she’s started yet so I’ll walk you over.”

As the stallion turned in place, it was impossible for Spike to miss the mess of scars across his back. Some appeared old, likely the result of a close encounter with the many monsters that stalked the world. Others were clearly raw and recent, like something had lashed him. The New Dragon recalled that Applejack did favor a rope but more as a lasso than a whip.

“Of course, that was before she joined us.” The hulking Champion thought to himself. “Dash might not be far off with that ‘beating in work ethic’ remark.”

“So, just you two?” The cheery stallion asked casually as they passed by pallets of wood, bags of concrete and other construction materials. “Cousin’s other friends busy?”

“I doubt she want’s Fluttershy and her ‘appetite’ anywhere near here.” Nightbolt answered keenly. “And Vanity’s due any night now so the plan is to keep her near a hospital.”

“Ah, makes sense.” Braeburn nodded in understanding. “Well, congrats to her. Oh, and to you, ma’am.”

After a relatively short walk, the three came to the small outdoor party. Tables and chairs had been provided as well as refreshments in the form of drinks and finger foods. Unlike the laborers, once the two members of the New Populace were noticed, they were greeted with reverence and well-wishes. The Champion noted a few nobles from Canterlot, likely attending on business, as well as a few former Ponyvillians looking to resettle. After the customary greetings, Spike helped the expectant Dash to a seat while he elected to stand.

“It's no Pinkie party but AJ is no slouch in shindigs.” The dark drake thought absently. “Even if the entertainment is basic, you can always count on food.”

“Bleh! You’d think AJ’d serve cider, not sparkling water.” A clearly disappointed Dash grumbled as she pushed away the offending beverage. “Where is she anyway?”

As if to answer her, a soul harrowing howl silenced the idle chatter. A moment later, a chorus of calls responded, sending a fearful murmur through the crowd. The out-of-their-element nobles crowded closer to the burly dragon and non-plussed pegasus while the more knowledgeable rural denizens recognized the calls of timberwolves. Their fears only compounded when a quartet of green glowing eyes appeared out in the darkness followed by the distinctive sound of animalistic panting, creaking wood and bounding paws.

“Uh, good Sir Spike?” A noblemare latched onto the New Dragon’s arm in fright. “We may need your fire!”

“Relax.” Spike grunted as he shook her off. “It’s just our host.”

Just as the pack of sylvian canines reached the torchlight of the gathering, the largest among them shifted upright and slowed its pace. The near panic turned to confusion as a sienna timber-pony sauntered into view with a trio of juveniles following obediently behind. The Imperial Champion felt a dull ache in his loins as he recalled his last encounter with the blonde bombshell in the Everfree. Compared to her near feral appearance then, the svelte spriggan had tied her billowing dirty blond mane back into her characteristic ponytail with the addition of a plait braid that hung over her shoulder.

“Sorry fer the scare, everypony.” The lumber lycan once known as Applejack doffed her worn stetson hat in greeting. “They won’t bite ‘less ah say so.”

After giving her pets/packmates leave to wander about the party, the Imperial Panetier strode to the fore of the gathering with a messenger tube slung over her shoulder. Her guests shamelessly stared at her as she went, fascinated by the unique creature hosting their event and by her choice of attire. Besides her hat, the sylvan synthesis wore an ill-fitting button-up flannel shirt that reached midway to her thighs and absolutely nothing else.

“Must be one of McIntosh’s old shirts.” Spike inferred as the woodsy wolf-mare caught his appreciative eye and shot him a wink. “Sweet Moon above, those buttons are holding on for dear life.”

“Dat… ass!” Nightbolt’s jaw nearly hit the table as her Benighted friend passed by, her shirt tails leaving little to the imagination. “That’s a whole dump truck full of cake!”

“Yep.” The tyrian drake agreed simply.

“Good to see ah got yer attention.” The green-eyed mare said coyly as she popped open the tube and retrieved the slideshow within. “Now, fer those of you who don't know me, ah'm Applethorn, yer host fer tonight. Ah’ve never been one fer yappin’ so let’s get to it…”

"Applethorn, huh. Guess Poisonapple wouldn't fly for somepony in charge of agriculture." Spike mused as the sienna spriggan set up a stand and placed the first slide. "And Applebark just doesn't have the same clang."

As the spectacle of a curvy half-naked timber-pony wore off, the atmosphere settled into a somewhat mundane business meeting. The visual element proved helpful as some terminology flew over the less initiated heads while the country beaut’s thick accent muddled some issues. Spike had to admit he was only half listening but the main thing he took away was that she was planning to turn the ruins of Sweet Apple Acers into the Golden Apple Plantation; the first and greatest of many enterprises responsible for keeping the Lunar Empire fed.

“… delivered to grocers ‘cross the Empire.” The horticultural hybrid finished with an air of satisfaction. “So, any questions?”

Immediately, a sea of hands went up. Applethorn deflated slightly and let out an annoyed nicker. After surveying the crowd, she picked out a random stallion.

“You said that crops would be grown year-round.” He prefaced in a respectful tone. “How would that be possible with, you know, Eternal Night and Long Winter?”

“Same way Nightbolt Dash o’er there controls the weather.” The New Earth Pony answered keenly. “If ah want to grow ah bunch o’ mangos here, it’ll happen.”

This triggered a round of mutters plus a few cheers from the thestrals in the audience. In time, a rather thin noblemare gave voice to one of the other circulating concerns.

“Uh, magically modified foods tend to not agree with everypony.” She said pointedly. “How do we know you aren’t just feeding us poison?”

“This ain’t magic, ya idjit.” The dirty blonde bombshell challenged with a growl that instantly cowed the willowy mare. “If y’all think ah’m makin’ promises mah skills can’t keep, well, let me prove you wrong.”

Applethorn brought her wood fingers to her mouth and let out a piercing three note whistle that echoed across the fields. Moments later, teams of freshly uniformed workers bearing carts of pristine foodstuffs approached the party. The tantalizing aroma of sweet fruits, fresh grains and crisp vegetables filled the air, sending a biting hunger through those who had subsisted on rations and canned food up until this point. Dextriously and skillfully as palace waitstaff, the laborers assembled samplers on plates and set the tables for the now curious guests.

“No trace of frost so she didn’t just pull these out of cold storage.” Spike mused to himself as he selected a pineapple and turned it over in his claws. “Now for the taste test.”

The New Dragon popped the tropical fruit into his maw, leaves, rind and all. With a loud crunch, he pulped it and chewed thoughtfully. The initial taste was unremarkable but the moment the juice hit his tongue his eyes widened in surprise. Of all the things he had ever consumed in both his old and new life, only Pinkie Pie’s confectionary masterpieces even compared.

“Holy Nightmare, it’s so juicy!” The Imperial Champion thought as he savored the treat.

Through his pineapple induced delight, he noticed that all eyes were on him. He had been the first to partake and most of the still skeptical audience was waiting to see if he suffered any ill effects. The burly brute briefly considered feigning distress but decided that neither the timber-pony nor her roaming packmates would appreciate the joke.

“Hrm.” He rumbled as he finally swallowed. “Delicious.”

There was a collective sigh of relief from the crowd and an appreciative nod from the sienna spriggan. The sounds of quiet munching filled the moonlit air as the guests sampled the cornucopia presented to them. Soon, they too shared the New Dragon’s experience as a chorus of blissful gasps and contented moans drowned out the chewing.

“I’m sorry for doubting you!” The thin mare said around a mouthful of apple. “No magic or processing plant made this!”

“Oh, that was good!” A clearly pleased thestral with mango juice still dripping from his fangs exclaimed. “Please tell me you have more!”

“You can call it the ‘New Organic’ if yer so inclined.” The Imperial Panetier made no effort to hide her smug smirk as she addressed the two in turn. “And if you don’t want to wait fer mah next batch, you can save the seeds n’ grow yer own… if you have the proper know-how.”

“Oh, I’m definitely keeping a private stash of apples.” Dash said aside to Spike as she spat out a few seeds. “Now if only I can get AJ, er, AT to share her cider recipe.”

The meeting took on a festive atmosphere as the guests picked out their favorites, stashed away seeds, pits and leftovers and jotted down rough drafts of future orders. Their sylvan hostess answered a few more questions before she packed away her presentation and blew another whistle. The obedient laborers diligently made rounds waiting the tables while Braeburn brought forward a special looking box and presented it to his cousin.

“Big ideas n’ highfalutin plans are all well n’ good but they don’t put food on yer table…” Applethorn said as she flicked open the lid and reached in. “…but this will.”

She held aloft a shimmering golden apple in her wooden claws. Those who knew its properties audibly gasped while the uninformed simply gaped in awe. Spike himself simply nodded in understanding as much of the timber-pony’s plan fell into place.

“Not only do they make delicious fruit but the golden tree itself makes life around it flourish.” The burley brute mused. “Sparkle theorized they did that as a mutualistic defense against predation. I wonder if there’s one in the Everfree somewhere.”

“Had to tangle with ah mutant Lumberwolf alpha to get this.” The dirty blonde bombshell muttered as she balanced the gilded treasure on a claw point. “So, who’s ready to break sum ground?”

An affirmative cheer went up from the audience with the timberpups and even the nearby wilderness joining, howling and creaking respectively. Their hostess proceeded to lead them deeper into the fields, forcing a few of the more attentive guests to take the torches with them. Along the way, the former Apple farmer called up Braeburn who eagerly matched pace with her. While the two were out of earshot of the dragon, their body language and the way the yellow stallion seemed to hang onto the hybrid's every word gave him pause. He was aware of the stereotype involving the familial relations of rural equines which, he had to admit, he had also heard about the old money nobility but he never thought they applied to the extensive Apple family.

"I'm probably reading too much into it." Spike mused as Applethorn platonically slapped the former settler on the back and told him to 'Git goin''. "It's entirely possible for two ponies to be friendly without wanting to rut each other."

The displaced Appleloosian promptly rushed back to his compatriots to relay their boss's orders, his cheery grin still fixed on his face. The draconic Champion watched as they uncovered the stacks of construction materials and started passing out tools such as shovels and picks. He could only surmise that construction would begin the moment the tree was planted.

"Kind of jumping the gun, aren't they?" Dash followed his gaze as they came to a level spot of field. "Either this thing is going to grow fast or Thornie just wants to keep them busy; idle hands and all that."

“Spike? Dash? Care to join me?” The horticultural hybrid called out. “The rest of you, stand back ah bit.”

“Open field in the middle of the night, mob with torches, tentacles and wolves at your command.” The Imperial Herald rattled off her observations once the three members of the New Populace were together. "Waiting for the other shoe to drop here, country girl."

“Naw, you've just been readin' too much Darin' Do.” The green-eyed timber-mare assured her old friend. “Ah’m about to start somethin’ big here n’ ah just wanted you two to share in it.”

With a deft claw, she split the golden apple into thirds and offered them to the pair. They took the precious partitions, made a point of picking out the priceless seeds, and bit into the fruit. Instantly, Spike felt lightheaded as an indescribable sense of rapture flooded his mind. The pineapple he ate earlier might as well have been bitter ash in comparison. Nightbolt and Applethorn seemed to be going through the same as the latter became weak at the knees while the former got misty eyed.

“Damn, that was good.” Dash wiped away joyful tears. “Almost feel guilty for eating it.”

“There will be plenty more where that came from.” The timber-mare recovered and motioned for her friends to pass over their seeds. “Spikey, you can do the honors. 'Bout shin deep should do.”

Lacking a shovel, the New Dragon opted to simple dig up a spot of dirt with his claws. The soil proved soft and porous, offering little resistance until he had a fair size hole in the ground. Satisfied, he stepped back and the sienna hybrid placed the seeds within. A round of applause issued from the spectators as the former farmer buried the plot and placed a clawed hand atop it. Spike was about to asked what she was doing until he noticed her fingers sink into the dirt and an eerie glow emanate from her emerald eyes and poison apples cutie mark.

“Brace yer selves.” The plantation proprietor grinned wolfishly.

At that, resonant tremors shook the ground beneath them. The loose dirt began to shift and rise as a spider web of small fissures spread out from the still kneeling Panetier. An aura of panic gripped the audience as the seismic shifting reached them with a few of the pegasi and thestrals in attendance taking to the air. Spike flared his wings to do the same just as the earth exploded. Like an ancient leviathan surfacing from the deep, a massive pillar of gilded bark surged out of the ground. Gnarled boroughs reached skyward like grasping claws seeking to pluck the very moon from the heavens. As quickly as the eruption started, it ceased, leaving a towering auric tree that dwarfed even the tallest canopies of the nearby Everfree.

“Talk about explosive growth.” Spike thought wryly as his vision stopped spinning and he found himself upside down amongst the canopy. “Alright, don’t start cutting randomly. Find a support and make sure nothing is around your neck.”

“Bahaha! What a rush!” A nearby Dash laughed even as she struggled to free herself from her own predicament. “Uh, little help here, Spikey?”

“Don’t worry, ah got ya.” The timber-pony’s voice called out from the foliage. “Quit yer squirmin’ Dash.”

Seemingly on their own accord, the limbs of the great tree deftly released the two and set them upright on a thick branch. Above them, the canopy of leaves parted and gently lowered the dirty blonde mare in a sling of unnervingly dexterous sticks. Applethorn slid out of her seat and bid the limbs thanks as they retreated back into the borough.

“This thing’s alive- I mean -sentient!?” The prismatic New Pegasus glanced around her perch nervously. “Or was that all you?”

“It’s aware just as much as the Everfree is.” The horticultural hybrid said as she ran a claw against the trunk affectionately. “’ccordin’ to the Empress, the tantibus ridin’ shotgun with me was bouncin’ ‘tween sum elemental critters fer… ah long time. Hence why ah got toes now n’ such.”

“So the Everfree was protecting her…” Spike mused as some pleasant and not-so-pleasant memories of his rumble in the wilderness refreshed themselves in his mind. “…kind of.”

“Well shit, AT!” Dash’s tone was somewhere between impressed and jealous. “I can only split into four while you’re a low-level nature goddess!”

“Don’t be givin’ me ah big head now.” The lumber lycan said despite the coy smile on her face. “Let’s say we save this chat fer ah private party; gotta wrap up the public one first.”

The sienna timber-mare gestured to the crowd far below, little more than dots from their lofty height. Spike grunted in agreement and was about to step out into open air before he remembered that for all her new power, the dirty blonde bombshell still could not fly. He turned back to her and held his arms low, offering her a lift.

“Well now, built like ah tank n’ still a gentledrake.” Applethorn grabbed his shoulder and hefted herself into his bridal carry. “How did we find ah guy like him, Dashie?”

“Pretty sure he found us.” The sapphire speedster said with a slight edge in her voice as she spread her wings. “Had to throw hands when he did. Well, I did anyway.”

“Is that right?” The dirty blonde's expression hardened. “Ah could’ve told you that throwin' down with ah dragon was ah dumb idea.”

“Can’t tell if that’s the old rivalry flaring or something else.” Spike headed off Dash’s likely scathing retort by leaping out of the tree. "They're both cute when they're fired up but time and a place."

Unlike his beloved Vanity, the Everfree equine was not accustomed to his airborne antics and clung onto him for dear life as the hulking brute entered free fall. The Champion caught the wind beneath his mighty wings and eased his plumet into a gentle glide. Dash fell into formation beside him as together they spiraled down the towering tree. Down below, the drake noticed that teams of laborers led by Braeburn were digging a perimeter around the base while others sawed wood and mixed concrete.

“A tree-house?” The New Dragon asked aloud to which his passenger nodded.

“Ah ‘brace’ to protect the tree.” Applethorn explained. “It’s ah mansion, admin’ center n’ fort all rolled into one.”

“The New Populace likes living large!” The sapphire speedster vocally noted the trend of the Benighted’s opulent and imperial residences. “Hey, have you considered getting your own place, Spikey?”

“I don’t know; I kind of like edible walls and sharing space with Vanity.” The Champion thought as he gave a non-committal grunt. “Then again, the treasure horde is getting crowded and I’ve never had a drake-cave for myself…”

Deciding to mentally file his plans of a private abode away for later, Spike flared his wings and touched down before the awe-struck crowd. His passenger dismounted quickly, eager to get her paws back on solid ground while her prismatic friend settled for hovering above her lover’s shoulder.

“Ah, there you are.” A thestral waved to them. “We were about to fly up there to look for you.”

“That’s mighty kind of y'all but ah was in good hands.” The Imperial Panetier gestured at the New Dragon as she straightened her hat. “Now let’s wrap up this little hoedown so y'all can enjoy the rest of yer night.”

After the explosive groundbreaking, the closing of the ceremony was relatively mundane. The horticultural hybrid answered a few more questions, signed a few promissory notes for priority deliveries and wrote down some instructions for those wishing to start private farms. In time, the crowd finally bid farewell to the New Populace and dispersed. Once the last of the guests had departed, construction of Golden Apple Plantation immediately ramped up. Applethorn observed her workers for a while and, satisfied they would not require micromanagement, returned to Spike and Dash.

“Cool party, AT.” The prismatic New Pegasus flashed a thumbs-up. “I mean, it’s no Pinkie party but the food was great.”

“Fer what it was, ah thought it went well.” The New Pony shrugged. “Y’all feel up to ah little after party? Three of us can catch up in the old barn.”

“Hrm.” Spike nodded in assent. “Lead on.”

The three left the laborers to their tasks and headed for the overgrown outbuilding. With the lumber lycan in front, the tyrian drake could not help but admire the sylvan hybrid in motion. Her new digitigrade gait gave her curvy hips an enticing swing. He had felt those same hips nearly crush his pelvis but was not against the idea of the woodsy mare taking him for a ride again.

“Or perhaps I’ll be in the saddle next time.” The Champion mused as his eyes tracked the dirty blonde’s tail like a metronome. “Which reminds me; I need to ask if I’ve added a branch to the Apple family tree.”

An annoyed nicker from Dash broke him out of his thoughts. He glanced over to see that the sapphire speedster had noticed his unashamed staring and fixed him with a hard glare. The New Dragon was about to express his admiration for the tomcolt’s toned tuchus when she suddenly increased her pace and fell in step to her land bound rival. Spike felt a pang of guilt that he had somehow offended the prismatic weathermare until she adjusted the top tied around her waist.

“Oh, I see what she’s doing.” The burly brute felt a fire rise in his core as he beheld the mother-to-be in her spandex clad glory. “It’s hard to compete with AT but it’s not a complete squash match.”

“What’s yer hurry, sugahcube?” The sienna spriggan asked, upping her own pace to retake the lead. “Barn ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

“This is my barely trying speed, Thornie.” Dash retorted even as she entered a light jog to pull ahead. “You’re probably just sluggish with those wooden legs of yours.”

“Yer one to talk, Dashie.” The hybrid shot back as she matched the sapphire mare. “You’ve gotten ah lil’ soft in the cheeks there.”

“Not a word, lizard boy.” The Imperial Champion warned himself within the privacy of his mind. “Let them get it out of their system; only step in if they start hitting each other.”

Spike wisely held his tongue to avoid invoking either mare’s ire as they halted on the spot and stared each other down. Fierce magenta locked with acidic emerald, the air becoming charged with an unspoken challenge. The distant bang of a working dropping something acted as a starting gun as the sienna and sapphire mares broke into a sprint toward the barn. The New Dragon followed after them, not really competing in their impromptu race but maintaining a measured distance. His discretion was rewarded with the sight of two beautiful and bountiful mares in exhibition. The buttons on Applethorn’s ill-fitting shirt straining to contain her befreckled bust while the flaring shirt tails put her poison apple flanks on full display. As for Nightbolt, the skintight nature of her suit showed off every straining fiber of her amazonian physique, forever proving in the dark drake’s mind that there was more to a callipygian rump than mere size. The same could not be said of her improperly fitted brassier, however, as she occasionally biffed herself on the chin by way of her bouncy maternal mounds.

“She’s running for two but it looks like Dash will just beat out AT.” The tyrian drake noted that the Herald did not seem inhibited by her gravidness. “Or she is conserving stamina for the last legs.”

His assumption proved accurate as the still out of practice New Pegasus began to slow while her hybrid rival tapped into her reserves and pulled ahead. Refusing to lose so easily, Dash rebounded and closed the gap as a faint contrail formed behind her. Whether by instinct or disregard for sportsmanship, the New Pegasus flapped her powerful wings and became airborne; all but guaranteeing her victory. The lumber lycan let out an outraged sound between a snarl and a whinny as she dropped to all fours and shot toward the finish line with all the speed afforded an apex predator. Spike did not even attempt to keep pace with the two as they finished their race in an explosion of dust, hay and leaves.

“No idea who won.” The taciturn dragon mused as he reached the barn himself and cleared the dust cloud with a flap of his own wings. “Still, it was fun to watch.”

Once the cloud cleared, he found the interior of the venerable structure had been converted into a den of sorts. At a casual glance, it was all just overgrown weeds and vines but upon closer inspection, Spike was able to pick out a crate filled with stationery and manila folders, a frosted-over ice box and a hollow in the ground lined with linens he assumed was a bed for the timberpups. Dominating the center of the room was a large crimson flower whose stamen lay against the petals with a stump-like pistil in the middle. It looked innocuous enough but the dark dragon could not help but think of the infamous carnivorous flora that grew in the southern jungles. Strewn about the rafter above were a thicket of thorny plundervines holding flickering lanterns for light and a panting Nightbolt tangled up in the overgrowth.

“Ha! I win!” The New Pegasus gasped out. “All those new powers and your still second best, tree-bitch!”

“Win, mah ass!” A thoroughly incensed Panetier emerged from a pile of scrap wood she had rolled into. “Yer sorry hide cheated!”

“We never agreed to ‘Running of the Leaves’ rules!” Nightbolt retorted. “Plus, you had a home field advantage and I have a fucking longma in me!”

“The Nine Hells’ ah longma!?” Applethorn scrunched up her muzzle in confusion.

“’long mah cu-mmph!?” The weathermare’s no doubt crass remark was cut off by Spike’s meaty claw slapping over her mouth.

“Our child.” He explained simply to the dirty blonde bombshell as he gestured between himself and his prismatic lover. “Mix of pegasus and dragon.”

“Tch, not what ah’d pick.” The sienna spriggan clicked her tongue as she learned something new. “Still, flyin’ in ah hoof race?”

“Mm mmph- Gah –you don’t have hooves anymore, hayseed.” Dash pointed out after Spike released his hold. “And don’t say semantics!”

“It’s the spirit, not the law, feather-head!” The woodsy mare shot back. “And don’t pretend ya know what that means!”

“A draw?” Spike offered as he felt his patience begin to thin with the two hardheaded horses. “Rematch later with rules?”

“That…” Both New Ponies rounded on the dark drake but paused as his words registered.

“Ah’m fine with that.” The Everfree earth pony's shoulders slumped as her temper cooled.

“Same here.” The prismatic pegasus nodded. “Now, can one of you cut me down? Starting to cramp up here.”

Their horticultural host made a slight motion of her clawed hand and the vines came alive. An unnerved Dash was about to draw comparison to a situation found in one of her imported comics when the dexterous tentacles gently set her on her hooves, dusted her off and took her jacket. The wily weathermare let out a sigh and the vines returned to a listless dormant state.

“Thanks.” Dash said even as she kept a wary eye on the dangling limbs. “I, uh, take back that tree-bitch comment; that was the competitor talking.”

“Ah’m sure ah’ll be called worse in the future.” The country beaut doffed her hat in acceptance. “Now that we’re here, how ‘bout sum cider?”

“You should have opened with that!” The reputed primary consumer of the legendary Apple family beverage brightened up immediately. “Whereisitwhereisiswhereisit?!”

“Slow down, girl. You’ll bounce right outta yer bra.” The sienna spriggan chastised lightly. “The help is bringin’ it up.”

A slight reverberation from below revealed the ‘help’ to be a system of roots. Emerging from some underground warren, the dirt-clad rhizomes carried chilled crates of clicking bottles over to their mistress while others wove together to form chairs and a table. Their controller took a seat and cracked open the first frost-coated box. No sooner had she lifted the lid did Nightbolt swoop in and snatch up an armful of her beloved drink.

“An old brew?” Spike asked as he much more graciously accepted an offered bottle.

“Ol’ Mac started keepin’ ah stash in cold storage ‘case we ever ran out durin’ the season again.” The former farmer said almost wistfully. “’Course, that was before Empress Moon came to power.”

“Well, I’m glad you saved it for us instead of wasting it on those losers.” Dash grinned as she set aside some of her haul for later. “Uhh, got a bottle opener?”

“Hrm.” Spike raised a claw as he popped open his drink against a scale on his arm. “Didn’t feel a thing.”

Smiling, the two mares reached over and repeated the trick. Soon a sweet and spicy aroma filled the barn as a fine mist wafted from the bottles. Applethorn raised hers to a toast which her friends replicated.

“Hail the Nightmare!” They cheered and brought the ice-cold refreshment to their awaiting lips.

“Oh, I forgot how smooth this is.” For the third time that night, Spike felt sweet nirvana as the drink washed over his tongue. “If she ever makes cider out of those golden apples, she can call it 'Nectar of the Old Gods'.”

The three spend some time catching up with each other, talking or gossiping about who’s who in the Lunar Empire and generally enjoying the relaxed atmosphere. Invariably, the topics steered toward Dash and her impending motherhood. While Applethorn had heard second hand about how she and Spike had become lovers, Nightbolt’s direct and detailed account had set a blush in the woodsy mare.

“…planted my ass like a tree!” The Herald slammed an empty bottle for effect. “Then he picked me like a vegetable!”

“That was when she tapped.” Spike added, his face splitting into a toothy grin.

“Yeah, then you tapped me.” Dash matched his leering smile. “And that is how a longma is made.”

“In front of ah cheerin’ crowd n’ everything.” The hybrid shook her head even as a smirk crossed her muzzle. “Ah much prefer our little rumble-tumble in the woods, Spikey.”

“Dash and I just had spectators.” The New Dragon mentally argued. “The whole Everfree was involved with you and I.”

“Oh, you’ve ridden the dragon already?” Dash’s eyes widened in surprise. “No wonder you were out cold when Spike brought you in.”

“Speaking of…” The dark drake took the opportunity to ask a more serious question. “… did it take?”

“Nnnope.” The sienna spriggan shook her head with a clearly disappointed frown. "Hard to believe after all that."

"Damn, sorry to hear that." The sapphire speedster's ears fell flat against her head. "A pony/dragon/timberwolf combo would have been awesome."

"I seem to recall Sparkle going down the hybrid rabbit hole once upon a time." The former assistant of the academic Alicorn drummed his claws in thought. "I think the rule was the more species in a hybrid, the less viable their offspring are. Hence why griffons tend to stick with their own."

"Well, at first you don't succeed, try, try again." Applethorn leaned back in her chair and fixed Spike with a smoldering look. "And ah plan to try again and again even after you succeed."

"Hur hur." Spike signaled his willingness to oblige with a naughty chuckle.

"Talk like that, AT, ponies might think you have a breeding fetish." Dash needled teasingly as she drained her umpteenth bottle. "Might run in the Apple clan considering how big it is."

"Empress Moon did tell us to go forth n' multiply." The sylvan hybrid said with a shrug. “Ah ain't gonna argue with 'er even if it'll be hard to work once ah swell up like ah balloon like you.”

“Hey, I like my new blue balloons.” The sapphire speedster manually jiggled her swelling sources of pride. “They let me finally do this.”

The prismatic New Pegasus tugged on her sports bra and carefully nestled a fresh bottle in the deep valley of her cleavage, gasping slightly as the cold touched her sensitive mounds. Spike politely applauded as she spread her arms and rocked in place, demonstrating that her hands-free beverage holder was secure. Applethorn glanced at her own bottle as if contemplating doing the same but decided against it.

“I know I lost some flat justice fans when I got these but… whatever.” Nightbolt nickered in a sudden bout of bitterness. “It’s not like I was totally flat to begin with.”

“We need to change topics.” Spike was not sure how his multi-hued lover made the topic of big breasts awkward but she managed it. “Lingering on her nipple-leon complex feels wrong.”

His reprieve was granted by sound of animalistic panting and creaking wood. The trio of timberwolves scampered into the barn, one of them baring a package on its back. It dutifully went to its bipedal packmate while its siblings investigated the scaly and feathery visitors.

“Heh, these guys are kinda cute when they’re little.” Dash gingerly scratched one behind its ears as it sniffed her curiously.

“They don’t stay that way.” Spike rumbled as he reached down to the juvenile at his leg only for it to growl at him.

“Ah’m thinkin’ they’ll make good herd dogs once ah branch out into husbandry again.” Applethorn took the package, gave the woodsy hound a pat on the head and commanded the trio with a sharp whistle. “’til then, they guard the land n’ root out varmints.”

The three timberwolves obediently padded into the hollow and spun around each other for a few moments before collapsing into a pile of branches, leaves and twigs. A root emerged from the ground and draped a worn blanket over the still mound, earning a muted rustle as the occupants snoozed.

“Really should name ‘em once they’re fully grown.” The timber-mare noted before turning her attention to the box. “Let’s see what Vanity threw together.”

“Almost forgot Vanity added a special order to the delivery.” The tyrian drake thought as the spriggan cut open the package with her claws. “I missed the fitting but she did vent to me about how she had to work around AT’s natural thigh highs and opera gloves.”

“Well, ah guess black is in right now.” The Panetier smiled as she withdrew her ensemble. “Or really, really dark blue.”

The first item was a pair of dark denim shorts that were cut high on the thigh. At first glance, Spike thought the Imperial Enchantress had taken a knife to an old worn pair of jeans but he soon realized the fraying along the pockets and hem was deliberate. While the mare once known as Applejack could clean up nicely, a rough cut suited her far more naturally.

“It also calls attention to the absolute territory between her ‘leggings’ and shorts.” The Champion could already picture it in his mind and felt a spark in his core. “Vanity, you genius!”

“Where’s your ass supposed to go?” A clearly less impressed Dash asked as her competitive side began to rear its head again. “And I thought you hated booty shorts like that.”

“Dashie, they cover more of mah caboose than this shirt.” Applethorn shot the speedster a spectacularly condescending look. “Ah ain’t such ah prude no more.”

Next, she pulled out a matching flannel shirt with deep navy secondary and poisonous green tertiary stripes that matched her eyes and cutie mark. Much like the shorts, it bore purposeful wear and tear that only enhanced the natural beauty of their intended wearer, in this case her impressive bust line. The shirt was clearly a better fit than her brother’s hand-me-down but the New Dragon could not imagine it fitting over the lumber lycan’s hardback mantle.

“Did Van forget to sew in buttons?” The Herald pointed out the conspicuously absent fasteners. “Oh, wait. That extra slack in the middle? I think you’re supposed to knot it.”

“Ah was about to say.” The Everfree equine nodded in understanding as he replaced her new clothes in the box. “Smart move on the ol' diva's part considerin’ this keeps happenin’.”

The dirty blonde bombshell clasped her hands behind her head and inhaled sharply. With a whip like crack, her shirt exploded, sending the long straining buttons flying with one bouncing off the bottle still wedged in Nightbolt’s bosom with a ping. Spike was treated to the delightful sight of the Benighted beaut’s braless befreckled bosom bouncing free and then settling, their creamy caramel peaks captivating his predatory eyes.

“To gaze upon those great tracks of land once again.” The bull drake drank in the view as the timber-mare stripped off the ruined shirt and cast it aside. “Two of the finer things in life.”

“Show off.” Dash grumbled under her breath as she subtly tried to mimic the feat to no avail.

“Y’all can imagine what happened to the jeans ah tried on.” The now nude Panetier did not even bother covering herself. “Van didn’t want the same thing happenin’ to her ‘art’ so she told me to do sum prep-work first.”

“Hm?” Spike prompted her to elaborate as the timber-mare stood out of her seat.

“That bein’ trimmin’ some of mah branches n’ sandin’ down the more gnarly bits.” Applethorn explained as she slowly and suggestively ran her claws over the sylvan portions of her altered anatomy. “Ah could use a hatchet n’ sandpaper… or ah dragon with the special touch.”

“I had a feeling she would ask me that sooner or later.” The Champion flexed one of his mighty claws as the sienna synthesis flashed him a wolfish grin. “Who am I to deny a hardworking mare succor?”

“The old spa?” He ventured a location for their massage/landscaping session to which the dirty blonde shook her head.

“Here n’ now will do.” The hybrid said as she waved a claw and the furniture came alive, forcing Dash and Spike to stand as the ‘table’ cleared itself and set the clothes box and cider gently on the ground.

Most of the rhizomes retreated into their subterranean warrens, leaving only a weaving of roots in the form of a narrow table. Applethorn hopped up onto it and laid prone, her tail and mane cascading over the side like a tan and fawn banner.

“Really just need help with mah back.” The sienna spriggan sighed as she settled comfortably, hanging her hat on a plundervine and resting her head on her arms. “Work yer magic Spikey.”

“Mmhmm.” The bull drake rumbled in anticipation as he peeled off his jerkin.

“What are you doing?” Dash asked even as she unashamedly admired his bare chest.

“Sawdust.” Spike answered simply, earning a snicker from his woodsy client.

“Well, if everyone’s getting their tits out, so am I!” The sapphire speedster declared as she hoisted her tank top over her head, dropping both her pert peaks and the bottle. “Move your fat ass, AT, I’m getting in on this!”

“Hold yer horses, hothead.” The Panetier half nickered half growled as a second table assembled itself beside her, leaving a gap between them. “There. Think you can handle two at once, big boy?”

“Yes.” The New Dragon nodded as Dash struggled impatiently out of her suit before laying supine on her bed. “Now… relax.”

Spike would not call himself an expert masseuse but what he lacked in professional technique he made up for with intimate knowledge of the two New Mares. Applethorn would be fairly easy to satisfy particular if he focused on her back and shoulders. Nightbolt would require a more restrained approach as she did not have bark for skin but would otherwise be fine so long as he avoided her ticklish hooves. The burly brute rubbed his claws together, producing sparks as he did so, and set to work on the Herald and Paneteir.

“Ohhh~ yeah~” Dash sighed as her lover gently extended one of her wings rubbed along the margin and carpal joint while occasionally picking out damaged feathers; effectively preening her. “You do this with the other mes?”

“When they ask.” The dark drake confirmed.

“Hoo~ boy~” Applethorn’s eyes fluttered in bliss as Spike used the scales of his forearm to grind down the hardwood of her back while his claws worked out knots both sylvan and muscular; more akin to carpentry than anatripsis. “Y’all have no idea how much ah’ve missed this~”

Even with his divided attention, the Champion ensured his lovers felt nothing but tranquility. Soon the sound of pleasured sighs intermixed with the unconscious fluttering of wings and rhythmic ‘saw-saw’ of diamond hard scales on living wood-flesh. A pile of sawdust, bark chips and feathers later, Spike’s efforts yielded a smooth as butter hardwood back and pristine wings fit to cut the air. Satisfied with his work thus far, the New Dragon decided to get a little affectionate.

“Hmm~ that’s the stuff.” The curvy dirty blonde’s tail began to wag slightly as the Champion ran his claws through her mane, scratching her scalp and the space just behind her ears. “Yer amazin’, Spikey.”

“Yeah, he is~” The prismatic New Pegasus agreed as she received the same treatment. “But he can do more than give scritches for good girls~”

Nightbolt’s hand came up to his wrist and slowly guided his claw down to caress her flushed cheek. A thumb tugged on her bottom lip, combining with the storm of desire evident in her brilliant magenta eyes to form an absolutely smoldering look. Spike was compelled to give the clearly amorous amazon his full attention, much to the hybrid’s chagrin.

“It might be our kid but it feels like I got a fire in my belly~” The sapphire mare said breathily as her hand slid up his arm and across his rippling pectorals. “Stick that big co-Mmmph!”

The Herald did not get to finish as the herculean dragon silenced her with a kiss, his serpentine tongue invading her mouth as he did so. Dash’s cries of surprise morphed into rapturous moans as her free hand found the back of his head while her other slid down his iron-hard abs to his waist. Spike felt her broad tongue meet his in the familiar mix between a dance and a duel. He felt her fingers hook into his greaves in an attempt to release the stirring beast within only to be frustrated by his belt. The Champion’s nostrils flared as he caught the unmistakable scent of the New Pegasus’ arousal; fittingly akin to the electric air before a downpour. He also caught a strong, fantastic fragrance of fresh apples and syrup. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Applethorn staring intently at them, head propped on a hand and emerald eyes lidded. Her tail was wagging excitedly, wafting the aroma emanating from her nethers toward them. Spike felt his greaves grow uncomfortably tight as his drakehood was fully roused from slumber and emerged.

“Between the two of them, I’m surprised I didn’t stir sooner.” Spike endeavored to keep his growing primal desire in check as he broke the extended kiss with Nightbolt. “Question now is: the country bombshell or sporty tomcolt?”

“You sprung a leak there, Dashie.” The horny horticultural hybrid said huskily.

The New Pegasus looked down to see pearly streams run from the twin cerulean peaks of her heavy mounds, standing stark against her sapphire fur. She gingerly cupped one and squeezed experimentally. The speedster gasped as a jet of milk arched over her gravid belly and landed just shy of the slumbering timber pile.

“Well, I know what we’re doing later Spi-ah!” Dash inhaled sharply as Spike latched onto one of her lactating swells, his teeth grazing the supple flesh while his tongue lashed the aching tip. “E-easy there, lizard boy. They’re sen ~oh~ sensitive!”

“How she taste, sugahcube?” The spriggan asked wryly, clearly getting some enjoyment out of watching the two but suffering from the lack of attention.

“Why not taste for yourself.” The burly brute thought as an outrageous idea came to mind.

The draconic Champion released his hold on Nightbolt’s engorged bosom with a wet pop, his cheeks bulging full with an errant dribble on his chin. With a single long stride, he straddled the still prone timber-mare just above the small of her back.

“Whoa there lov-!” The hybrid twisted around to look back at him only for the dark drake to lean forward, brace against the table and captured her lips with his maw.

The dirty blonde’s muffled protest was replaced by contented moaning as she drank from the New Dragon’s mouth, audibly gulping down their shared treat. One of her hands went to the back of her lover’s head, clawed fingers running through his fringe while the other braced against the table to support her awkward half-twist. Spike took advantage of her posture to grab ahold of one of her heaving breasts. Applethorn’s moans rose in volume and frequency as his scaled palms rubbed against her caramel bud and his claws teased her tantalizing bounty.

“Damn, that’s hot!” Nightbolt gaped at the display, a hand sliding along her inner thigh toward her demanding marehood.

The need for air and the spriggan’s growing discomfort overrode the two’s passion as they finally parted with a breathy *Mwah*, a thin strand of spittle and milk still connecting them. The Paneteir laid back down with a relieved sigh as the Champion straightened up.

“Y’all taste like cotton candy, sugahcube~” Applethorn slurred in lustful delirium.

“I was thinking more like blue-raspberry.” Spike thought as he wiped the mess off his mouth. “It’s definitely some type of sweet fruit with a kick.”

“Huh, I do.” The Herald’s eyes widened in surprise after sampling herself. “And Van is vanilla… AT, if you’re anything other than apples, I’m gonna freak.”

“Ah’m sure ah’ll be sweet as honey~” The dirty blonde grinned as her draconic shimmed down her frame. “Don’t know ‘bout you, Spikey, but ah’m ready fer sum-!”

*CLAP!*

The entire barn jolted as Spike slammed his claws against the New Pony’s cutie marks, his gaze locked in on her prodigious posterior as he reveled in the perfect ratio of firm muscle and plush cushion. His true glistening goal, however, was revealed when he hooked his thumbs into the cleft of her rear and spread her open. The New Dragon’s pupils contracted into predatory slits as he beheld the puffy, winking lips. He leaned in and buried his snout into the junction of her legs, his serpentine tongue tracing along her outer limits while teasingly stealing a lick from within. Of all he had tasted this night, Applethorn’s natural nectar was perhaps the sweetest.

“Rrrrgh~ Spiiiikee~” The sylvan synthesis like out an animalistic growl as her own eyes glazed over into a translucent ethereal green. “Neeed~ Moooreee~ Mussst~ Breeeed~”

“Hrrmm.” The herculean Champion answered her lustful plea with a deep, throaty rumble as he withdrew from her quivering desire. “Spike want!”

With a practiced motion, Spike undid his belt and loosened his greaves, freeing the barbed and ridged pillar of virility within. While Dash was more than familiar with the turgid totem, she could not help but salivate at the sight of it. Not content to merely watch, the sapphire speedster slid off her table and approached the pair.

“Let me help you with these, big guy.” She said as she gripped the now loosened greaves. “Fair’s fair, you’ve been ogling us all night.”

The dark drake simply had to make a short hop and the stuntmare whipped his last article of clothing off his legs and tossed it aside. No sooner was he bare scaled did Nightbolt grab a double handful of his iron-hard rear. Spike had to fight the instinctual reflex to swat her away with his tail.

“Oh, yeah! Momma likes! Between the three of us, our kids will inherit the best asses in the Empire.” The Herald grinned lecherously as her hands slid across his hips and onto his throbbing pride. “So let’s put one in this bitch.”

“Fuuuck yoouu, Daaash~” The lumber lycan's voice had devolved into a mix of near-feral growling and creaking lumber. “Fuuuck meeee, Spiiiikeee~”

With the prismatic New Pegasus peeking around him to guide his gradient girth and the dirty blonde bombshell’s tail flagging high, Spike dug his claws into the sienna synthesis’ poison apples and thrust forward. Nightbolt’s aim proved true as he felt the tapered tip of his spear part the spriggan’s needy folds and plunge into her honeyed core.

“Guh-Haaaa~ Finaaaally~” The woodsy wolf-mare’s breath caught in her throat before it spilled out in a shuddering groan. “Haaardeeer~ Deeeepeer~”

“Hrrmm!” Steam blew from the Champion’s nostrils as he felt her vice-like canal squeeze around him, hungrily drawing him ever inward.

“Feels good, don’t it?” Nightbolt grinned devilishly as she let go of Spike's girth and hugged him around his waist. “Remember: he gets bigger toward the end.”

“Yeeeesss~” A shiver of anticipation went through the hybrid.

The dark drake’s hips meshed with her glorious glutes as he hilted himself within her welcoming depths. He paused for a few moments both to allow the New Pony to acclimate to his intrusion and to enjoy the sumptuous sensation of her doing so. His revelry was not to the mares’ liking, however, as Applethorn let out a dissatisfied whine while Nightbolt slapped him hard on the rump to spur him onward.

“I’ve been with then both already so the ‘gentledrake’ thing isn’t really necessary.” Spike mused as he adjusted his stance for what was to come. “Just try not the burn the barn down, old boy.”

A sudden flexing of the herculean Champion’s rippling muscles was all the warning the Herald and Paneteir got before he pulled back and slammed back home. The hybrid’s eyes went wide as a ripple raced across her callipygian rear and the air was forced from her lungs. The speedster had to flare her wings to keep her balance as the New Dragon’s backswing nearly knocked her flat. Spike soon settled into a rapid tempo as the barn was filled with the discordant symphony of pleasured moans, animalistic grunts and ominous creaking of wood.

“Come on! You can go harder than that!” Nightbolt egged him on, her eyes shining with unrestrained passion as she ground her dripping nethers against his spines. “Rut ‘er into the fucking ground!”

“Uh! Ah! Aah! Hah-huuugh! Argh! Haaardeer! Ah! AH!” Applethorn managed to articulate even as her tongue lolled out of her drooling maw. “Bre-! Buh! Breeed meeee! Ah!”

“RRRRGH!” A few errant sparks escaped between Spike’s gritted teeth as he redoubled his efforts, the base instinct of procreation threatening to override his sense of caution.

Unconsciously standing on the tips of his clawed feet, the draconic Champion angled himself downward as if to drill even deeper into the amorous amalgamation. The prismatic New Pegasus was forced to ride on the root of his tail as her hooves left the ground. The dirty blonde attempted to adjust her posture to better match this new angle but under the dark dragon's relentless assault, the best she could do was endure the strain, something the collection of vines and branches that formed the table could no longer do.

*CRAAACK-SNAP*

Their platform suddenly gave way as the sentient foliage retreated underground like spooked rabbits. The three entangled lovers felt a sickening moment of weightlessness before gravity asserted itself. Just as Spike began to pitch forward, the hanging plundervines struck like black and blue lightning. The Champion felt them ensnare his wrists, tail and midsection and pull taught like harbor mooring cables, leaving him leaning over precariously like a pop star. Just ahead of him, the vines had pulled their assimilated kin out from under his bulk, her arms tied to her sides while her legs were folded calves to thighs, leaving her prodigious posterior, now a raw red from his ungentle efforts, on full display right before his eyes.

"Whew, good save, Thornie." Nightbolt gasped from above, the vines having elected to hog-tie the New Pegasus. "Heh, who would have guessed Discord's weeds would have bondage kinks."

"Hrm." Spike grunted in agreement.

He tugged on one of the vines testily but it held fast. With a growl, he tried to bite into the offending bind only for another one to wrap around his snout and force him to look forward. The bound Applethorn had been turned onto her back with her wooden claws tied behind the small of her back.

“You ain’t done plowin’ dis ‘ere field!” The spriggan growled huskily as the vines spread her legs for her, revealing her sopping nethers. “Git back to it, lizard boy!”

“Rrragh!” The bull dragon roared as her heady pheromones slammed into him like a train, throwing fuel onto the fire in his core and inflaming his primal instincts.

Seemingly satisfied that they were back on track, the plundervines righted the randy drake and released him while lowering Applethorn to a more assessable level. Spike seized the free-hanging mare by her toned waist and plunged back into her awaiting depths, forcing a ragged laugh of pleasure from the horny hybrid. The Champion found he enjoyed this position more so than the table as he could delight in the Panetier's many ecstatic expressions and the mesmerizing bounce of her bounties.

“Hot damn, you're a machine, dude!” Nightbolt gaped open mouth at the carnal display beneath her. “Hey, AT. Bet you blow before he does!”

“Ah! Ah b-bet you do- Ugh! -'fore us!” The sienna spriggan altered the challenge by willing the vines binding her prismatic rival to move her forward and lower. “Cah! Ugh! Cum-! Come on, Spike! Eat up!”

Spike rumbled in annoyance as his view of Applethorn was obstructed but it quickly turned to interest as the Herald was place on his broad shoulders. With his head slightly crushed between the sapphire amazon's toned thighs, he had unrestricted access to her swollen, winking nethers and the dark ring of muscle above. The enticing scent of her arousal flooded his nostrils, drowning the last vestiges of his rational mind in a sea of lust. He snorted once, jets of steam causing the prismatic mare to yelp and her entrance to spasm wildly. As the pearl of her apex appeared, he lurched forward with jaws open wide, fitting the entirety of her sex into his maw as his serpentine tongue shot forward.

"WAH-HAaaoooh, fuck!" Dash did a fair impression of Vanity as she felt him slither into her. "Yes! YES! Ah-HA! Right there!"

Not content to simply hang like a slab of meat as the Champion devoured her, the sapphire stuntmare used what little movement she could to swing herself back against her draconic lover. Her efforts, while far from what she hoped to accomplish, did drive the dragon deeper into her quivering reaches. With his teeth so close to sensitive flesh, Spike raised a claw to steady her by her gravid swell. He rubbed the taught expanse affectionately, reveling in the heat growing within her before sliding his claw up to her milk-dewed peaks.

"Mmm-ugh! D-definitely a boob-lover we got- AH! -here!" Dash managed to gasp out as Spike roughly kneaded and stroked her aching engorged bosom. "Oohh~ shit, how deep can- Huuugh~"

“Ugh! Ah! Yes! Yeeeesss~” Applethorn slipped back into feral groans as she was anointed with the Herald's sweet-smelling milk that rained from her sapphire clouds. “Cuuuum Spiiiikeee~ Breeeed meeee~”

Spike felt the all too familiar fire flare into an inferno in his very core. Something shifted in his loins as the great ruddy knot of his drakehood emerged. A wet *PLAP! PLAP! PLAP!* sound joined the salacious symphony of sex as the three entered the climatic final movement. Words failed the hybrid entirely as the extra length and thickness slammed into her supping folds, stretching her to her limits while the thrusting tip threatened the batter down the final barrier to her innermost chamber. A vine sacrificed itself to her gnashing teeth, drawing sap and juice as she bit into it in an effort to forestall the flood threatening to wash through her.

“Mmmph! Rrrgh! Hmmph!” The blonde bombshell’s glowing eyes rolled back in her head as the last of her stubborn resolve finally succumbed to pleasure. “Mph! MPH!! RRRRRRGHGH!!!”

Applethorn's altered body convulsed as pure rapture wracked her floral frame. Her velvety tunnel pulsated around her draconic lover, desperately attempting to wring out the one thing that can quell the primal hunger in her core. The spriggan’s legs snapped out of their bonds and locked around the Champion’s rear, leaving her suspended only by their union and the vines around her arms. It was clear she would not release him until he sowed his virile seeds in her now well-plowed field.

“Urk! Hrrmmm!” It was all Spike could do to keep his immolating breath in check as the inferno exploded into a conflagration. “RRRAAAAAAGGHH!!!”

“Baah-hahaha! Ya feel that! Ya horny bitch?!” Nightbolt cackled madly as the New Dragon’s mighty roar reverberated through her entire being, adding the final thing needed to push her over the edge into mania. “Get pregnant! Get pregnant! Get pregnant!”

A pearlescent deluge erupted from the tyrian drake, surging up the timber-mare’s constricting passage and audibly flooding her most precious depths. Her quaking midsection began to slosh and bloat as the knot prevented any of the Champion’s potent essence from escaping. In time, Applethorn released her hold on the dark dragon as the euphoric high of climax waned in favor of numb exhaustion. Spike straightened up and, using the dirty blonde’s ample rump as leverage, withdrew himself with a loud *POP!*.

“Ahh~” They gasped in unison as a torrent of steaming love juices flowed from the lumber lycan’s twitching entrance, pooling and intermingling with the nectar and milk on the floor.

The plundervines, their job complete, disengaged and gently laid their charge on the floor, uncaring or unaware of the mess. The ones holding Dash hoisted her up and deposited her on Spike's shoulders before returning to the bramble among the barn rafters. The Champion thought he saw one flash him their approximation of a thumbs up but it was hard to tell with the New Pegasus's release soaking his face.

“Oh Holy Nightmare, that was awesome.” Nightbolt panted as she dismounted the dark drake. “Gold medal there Spi-whoa!”

The Herald stumbled and fell beside her friend as her wobbly legs gave out. From the ground, she got a good view of Applethorn’s bloated belly; a simulacrum of her coveted and certainly impending maternity as the life-giving seed ran in small rivulets over the taut sienna surface. The sapphire speedster cheekily jostled the wolfish mare just to see her jiggle. With a tired moan, the bloated Panetier rolled her head over to face her, fatigue and joy plain on her smiling face.

“You win, Dashie girl.” The horticultural hybrid slurred giddily, her eyes unfocused but returned to their normal poisonous green hue. “Brewery’s worth o’ cider on me.”

“Careful, I’ll hold you to that.” The prismatic prankster held up a warning finger even as her magenta eyes shone in anticipation. “As a consolation prize, how do prime quality rain clouds for a year sound?”

“You got yerself ah deal.” The dirty blonde made to shake her hand only to miss and slap her across her sapphire swells. “Whoops.”

“Hey, if you want to grab ‘em, just ask.” Nightbolt brushed it off before glancing up at the still standing Champion. “Spike? How are… you…”

Her words died on her lips as the New Dragon loomed over them, his entire frame tensed as a coiled spring. His gradient pride shone with the slickness of both his and Applethorn’s release yet stood turgid and ready with dollops of scorching dragon essence oozing onto the floor. Past experiences predicted that he should be collapsed on the floor with them; laid low by exertion and post-coital reflection. Clearly, the endurance training her other selves had been putting him through had allowed him to overcome the refractory period and achieve a sort of second wind; unheard of in most common stallions but for a virile bull dragon infused with a tantibus…

“More! Must have more!” The hulking drake’s predatory eyes locked onto Dash’s callipygian rump. “The tomcolt next! Yes! And then the mutant again… no! Stop! Get ahold of yourself!”

While being able to go again in mere moments suited the other Nightbolt’s and Vanity just fine, neither the still loopy Applethorn nor maternal Dash were in an ideal condition to handle a randy bull dragon again. Fortunately, physical training was just part of the Champion’s grind set and the military discipline drilled into him by Commander Knight and his own sense of draconic nobility allowed him to challenge his own base impulses.

“What are you waiting for? Let’s rock them!” A threatening rumble issued from the beast’s gullet as logical temperance clashed with insatiable lechery. “They can’t handle you right now. Save it for later, meathead.”

“You okay in there, Spike?” The prismatic Herald asked apprehensively. “I’m not a mind reader so I don’t know if you want a blowie or a tittie.”

“Rrrgh… no. No need.” The Champion shook his head and snorted as he snapped out of his internal struggle. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, uh, legs feel like rubber and I think AT’s cum drunk.” Nightbolt visibly relaxed. “Didn’t think I was that out of practice but it was still fun.”

“Yer damn right.” The sienna spriggan sighed contently as she rubbed her churning belly, gathering up the still hot traces of their love on her claws and licking them. “Mm-mmm. Ah swear, if ah don’t got ah foal-pup in me now…”

“You’re about as big as me!” The sapphire stuntmare chuffed incredulously. “It only takes one and he pumped enough in you to give you triplets or something.”

“Ah fine start to ah family.” The dirty blonde said wistfully as she craned her neck to give the New Dragon a coy smile over her swell. “But we can’t stop there; ah family biz like mine takes many hands and claws.”

“That’s an invitation if I’ve ever heard one.” Spike felt the lingering heat in his core flare at the prospect but willfully quelled it. “And I’m sure I’ll accept it at some point.”

“Down, girl.” Nightbolt lightly admonished her friend with a tap on her muzzle. “Don’t get him riled up again. Why don’t you catch some ‘Z’s? We know what you’re like without sleep.”

“Ah could do with ah few winks.” The timber mare nodded slowly as she rested her head back against the floor. “Huh-hey, ‘fore ah forget. If y’all see Fluttershy, tell ‘er to get ‘er lanky ass off mah brother. Chore list… *yawn* …ain’t getting any shorteerr…zzz.”

“That might be a challenge even I’m not up for.” The tyrian drake grimaced at the prospect.

A few moments later, the sleepy spriggan's snores filled the barn. As quietly as he could, Spike offered a claw and helped the prismatic mare to her hooves. They were about to help the now hibernating hybrid into a bed when the barn foliage intervened. The plundervines unfurled from the rafters once again and coiled around their overseer. Applethorn mumbled contented nothings in her sleep as she was hoisted off the ground and suspended over the great crimson flower. By some trigger or unheard command, the vascular petals rose and came together like a set of jaws until the slumbering Panetier was enclosed within a room sized bud. Her silhouette as well as that of the custodian vines that tended and guarded her was revealed by green glow that slowly pulsated like subdued breathing.

“I-I think I’ll stick to clouds, thank you.” A somewhat unnerved Nightbolt whispered to her lover. “Grab the cider and let’s go.”

Spike nodded in agreement and together they crept toward the stack of crates. They grabbed several arms full as well as their discarded clothes. After making sure Applethorn’s clothes were still packed away, the Champion placed her worn stetson upon the box and joined the Herald outside.

“Ah, brisk!” Nightbolt, having decided against fully redressing herself, opted to borrow a page from the hybrid’s book and just put on her jacket. “AT’s good company and all but it was getting stuffy in there. Heh, can’t imagine why.”

“Hur hur.” Spike gave a short laugh as he concluded that he was covered in too much of a mess to risk Vanity’s handiwork and thus remained in the buff. “I need a shower.”

“I’d suggest a lake to jump in but you’d need soap before all that sours.” The multi-hued mare scrunched up her nose before all humor sudden drained out of her. “Uh, hate to kill the mood but about what happened in there.”

“Hrm?” The New Dragon arched an eyeridge.

“That bit where you almost went full barbarian.” Nightbolt clarified, her expression a mix of concern and a slight hint of fear. “I’ll admit I like it rough but there is a limit… especially since I’m carrying precious cargo.”

She patted her gravid belly to emphasize her point. Spike’s ear fronds drooped as he hung his head in shame. He had no real defense or argument; he could get away with going all out with the other Nightbolt’s but not this one. The mother of one of his children brought a hand to his snout and rubbed it affectionately.

“Hey, you pulled yourself back from the line and we all had a great time.” The Herald assured him. “Don’t be getting all mopey on me.”

“Thanks.” Spike smiled genuinely which Dash returned before using her wings for a short jump to steal a quick kiss.

“’s what I’m here for.” The sapphire stuntmare’s smile shifted into a coy smirk. “Bleh, listen to me getting all touchy feely; I’m turning into my mom! I’ll catch you later, big guy.”

With that, Nightbolt Dash collected the first in what would surely be a long line of cider and shot into the starry sky. The dark dragon watched her go, admiring the display both skillful and indecent, until she was but a prismatic contrail rocketing toward the distant Stratofortress. Spike made a contented rumble as he gathered his own haul and trudged through the field toward the construction site to collect his delivery gear.

“Got to return them to the quartermaster and stash this cider somewhere.” The Imperial Champion mused to himself. “Should check in with Vanity afterward. Don’t think she’ll have anything else for me but the night’s still young.”

Far beyond the watchful eyes of the Lunar Empire, amidst the war-torn lands of Zebrica, a new power had appeared in the sprawling central desert. Once, the wastes held little more than hardy nomads and merchant caravans traveling between oases and the opportunistic bandits that preyed upon both. Now the oases had been fortified into well-stocked waystations guarded justly by powerful creatures in baroque dark armor. Trade and travel were directed into the very heart of the desert via new roads paved in cyclopean stone lined with the crucified remains of those who had once stalked the dunes.

Out of the sand and dust of the once sun-scorched wasteland rose a strange metropolis. Looming spires raised by eclectic magics soared into the starlit sky, the sorcerers and wizards within delving into the mysteries of magic unfettered by ethics or legality. Temples of black marble and sterling silver resonated with the ritualistic chanting of the devoted guided by deacons of an ancient but resurgent faith. A storm wracked ring of nimbus clouds formed by the sky-dwelling pegasi and griffons encircled a skyscraping central tower, serving a foundation for their airborne dwellings as well as a panoramic vantage point for garrisons. The common denizens traveled from the blockhouses and insulae they called home into the public forums where traveling merchants hawked luxuries and necessities and wandering troupes provided entertainment. Most had been displaced by the Empire’s ascension while others were fleeing the political chaos in Gryphondom or simply looking for a home in the devastation left by the Storm King’s lightning war.

For a certain pair of mares, they could not care less about the vicissitudes of the world that had mocked and ostracized them. Instead, they found patronage and shelter with someone who welcomed them for what they were and they, in turn, were happy to lend their talents to his grand, if enigmatic, designs. The duo were content with this arrangement even if it did lead to some rather questionable activities such as what they were doing now in a makeshift laboratory located far beneath the thriving city.

“I still don’t get why the boobs get bigger.” A curvy mauve unicorn frowned as she removed the busted brassier of a well-compensated and now well-endowed earth pony mare who agreed to be their test subject from her horn. “The increased height and muscle mass, sure, but why the boing-boings?”

“They are dreams made reality, Starlight.” Her busty azure partner said candidly. “The Great and Powerful Trixie can think of a few things that might influence them… especially from juveniles.”

“I suppose.” Glimmer found herself agreeing as she recalled many lonely nights in her youth before returning her attention to the recovering New Equine. “You still in there?”

“Fuck me again! That was better than sex!” The now dark furred pony admitted shamelessly as she got to her hooves and inspected her new assets. “If this is what Luna is bringing to the table, no wonder so many ponies became lunarists.”

“Nightmare Moon, not Luna.” The mauve sorceress corrected. “It may not seem like it but they are separate entities.”

“And the imperials would be nightmarists.” Lulamoon added pointedly. “They’re plenty of ponies down here who prefer the princess over the empress.”

“Uh-huh. Yeah. Sure. Okay.” The unconvinced subject deadpanned. “So is this it or will I get bigger later ‘cuz I’ve seen what Rainbow Dash turned into and… sploosh!”

“What the Grand and Sagacious Trixie gave you was merely a derivative of a greater beast.” The witch pointed to a warded phial containing simmering dream stuff. “It was a weakened fiend we managed to scrub of mortal influence; as close to a generic blank slate as we could get without fishing something raw out of the Dream World.”

“In summary, you are currently the most basic result of a tantibus taking a mortal host.” Her sorcerous partner concluded. “Hypothetically, your transformation would have been more impressive if the dream demon was more complex but then you run the risks of… unpleasant mutations if not outright expiration.”

“So I’m just a basic bitch then.” The Benighted mare seemed unperturbed by the danger she had been in. “Eh, I’ll take it. So, can I go now?”

“Not yet.” Lulamoon held up a hand to stop her. “We still have a few more tests to run that you shouldn’t be awake for so…”

The azure witch flicked the New Mare between the eyes and she instantly went slack. An aura of magenta magic caught her before she hit the floor and held her horizontally a short distance in the air. The mage duo began tracing ancient runes and intricate symbols in the ether that seemed to suck what little light there was out of the room. The two paid the phenomena no mind as they were more than accustomed to the khthonic arts they plied.

“The body is molded and the mind is swayed.” Glimmer said aloud as she jotted down notes. “In both instances, the tantibus is amplifying what is already there rather than outright replacement. Huh, you’d become a mega-milk megalomaniac, Thicc-ixie.”

“And you’d be a dummy-thicc demagogue, Glim-gams.” The witch shot back playfully. “Hmm, something is off… did Trixie write three Runes of Anima or just two?”

“Let’s see… two. Don’t worry, I got it.” The sorceress ignited her horn and made the necessary corrections. “That should- oh, there we go.”

There was a flash of light and a groan of discomfort from the unconscious New Mare as an aura of negative light surrounded her. The khthonic energy highlighted a pale white form within the Benighted mare bearing the appearance and proportions of who she once was albeit simplified. The two stared at the luminous being as Lulamoon adjusted the spell to confirm what they were seeing.

“Well, well. The vessel and conscious may fail but the spirit endures.” The former magician said simply. “The busybodies in the temples are going to have fun with this.”

“Not a trace of corruption, not from the tantibus at any rate.” The ‘reformed’ radical stroked her chin in thought. “If we were to brute force a solution, we could transfer the soul to a new body like the revenants and dispose of what’s left.”

“The Aghast and Uneasy Trixie doubts many would go for that.” Lulamoon said with a grimace. “It is also possible the tantibus we used is simply too weak to reach that divine spark but considering that Luna was able to be purified after a thousand years…”

“Yeah, yeah. I know that trope.” Glimmer held a hand to her head in mock melodrama. “Oh, I know the real you is in there somewhere! Please come back to us!”

“Hmph, if the power of love was all it took to undo this, we wouldn’t be here right now.” The witch nickered derisively. “So, Trixie thought this would take longer. Should we go ahead and present this to him?”

“Do let’s.” The sorceress nodded. “We’ll do purification tests later so keep her under for now.”

The magical pair collected their notes, secured all equipment and subjects and departed the laboratory. Once in the depths of the quiet earth, they moved through a subterranean city that mirrored the one on the surface in many aspects. Rogue changelings and their vibrantly colored changedling kin molded hives out of the stalagmites that rose from the cavern floor. Above them, lunarist thestrals carved abodes amongst the stalactites like inverted towers. Teams of diamond dogs dug out fresh tunnels in search of mineral wealth for both trade and their own collections while hulking yeti-like storm creatures heeded the call to agriculture by tending to tubers, mushrooms and anything else they could grow in plots of dark volcanic soil. A few denizens of the subterra paused to pay due respect to the passing witch and sorceress to which they responded in kind.

“To think that in the grand scheme of things this is ultimately just an outpost.” Glimmer said thoughtfully. “Makes me wonder why we’ve set up shop here rather than back home.”

“The Sharp and Worldly Trixie has known ponies in charge of massive projects blow off steam by micromanaging.” Her partner shrugged. “Honestly, the inner machinations of his mind are an enigma.”

After some time traveling the underground thoroughfare, the two came to a black stone superstructure that rose out of the abyssal depths, pierced through the rocky ceiling and became the towering citadel that dominated the surface city. A comparatively small gatehouse and bridge guarded by armed and armored figures allowed ingress into the monolithic edifice. The silent sentinels simply glanced at them and unceremoniously opened the gate to let them cross.

“Somehow it’s even bigger on the inside.” Glimmer said wryly as they crossed the bridge spanning the void. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was compensating for something.”

“Trixie prefers the expansive grandeur of Barathrum; less stairs.” The former stage magician said before her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Wait, how do you know better?”

“Oh for-! I meant his ego not his…” The sorceress groaned as she face palmed. “Ugh, nevermind.”

With Lulamoon now giving her a sideways look, the two entered the massive edifice. Compared to the multi-cultural mishmash on the surface and the adaptive dwellings within the semi-natural caverns, the central tower was of purely khthonic origin. Corridors of onyx stone stretched out before them, illuminated only by pale ghostlights contained in hanging braziers that left the high vaulted ceilings in pitch darkness. Benthic creatures clad in form concealing cloaks hurried to and fro; clerks and scribes assigned to administrative tasks. More sentinels appeared throughout the stronghold either standing fast at key junctures or patrolling the labyrinthine corridors. An uneventful trot through the gloomy halls brought them to a vestibule and a great set of ebony doors filigreed with cold iron iconography flanked by an imposing pair of elite praetorians wielding halberds and tower shields. Before the mages could announce themselves with a knock, the doors cracked open and an unexpected stallion stumbled through.

“Oh! S-Starlight!” A bespectacled and robed unicorn stallion stopped short, a jumble of papers slipping from his arms onto the floor. “I-I’m sorry. I’ll get those.”

“Sunburst!” An equally surprised Glimmer backed away to avoid trampling his stationary. “W-what are you doing here?”

“Oh, uh, the wizard’s guild and sorcerer’s union are butting heads again.” The sunny-orange unicorn seemed to be making a conscious effort not to glance at the mauve sorceress in her flattering attire. “His Excellency asked me to mediate.

“Tch, good luck with that.” The azure witch scoffed as she levitated a stray scroll for him to retrieve. “Not all mages are as agreeable as the Great and Powerful Trixie.”

“Oh, if only.” The unicorn stallion shuddered in dread at what was in store for him. "Don't happen to have any insights to share, do you?”

"Uhh... the sorcerers tend to be ego driven so try to make any solutions sound like their idea." Glimmer advised after some thought. "They'll probably take credit for it anyway."

"Wizards care more for their studies than anything so they'll agree to anything that lets them get back to them quickly." Lulamoon added. "Also, the older ones tend to be scatterbrained, so you'll have to keep them on topic."

"Appeasement and expediency with focus, got it. Thanks" Sunburst audibly made a mental note. “Nice to see you again, Starlight. I wish I could stay and talk but, you know, important wizard business.”

With that, the former crystaller hurriedly sprinted down a hall, muttering reminders to himself. The mauve sorceress opened her mouth as if to call after him but her tongue refused to form legible words. She only managed a defeated sigh as the bespectacled stallion disappeared from view.

“Want to chase after him and pin him to a wall?” Lulamoon asked with a wicked smirk. “The Kind and Understanding Trixie can present our findings by herself.”

“Time and a place, this is neither.” The sorceress grumbled as her mood soured. “Come on, we’re giving the guards something to gossip about.”

The two passed through the ajar doors into a large study. Another pair of praetorians awaited them on the other side and were just as talkative. Maps of far-off lands and distant cities bearing a collage of notes, connections and updates decorated the walls while neatly ordered shelves contained various tomes of lore and grimoires of ancient magics. Seated at the far end of the room behind a stone slab of a desk littered with esoteric tools was their benefactor; a tall, seasoned earth pony stallion jet of mane and pale of coat clad in tenebrous vestments.

To the wider world, he was Anon Grey, a plain and simple stallion of no consequence. Those more aware of his long and notorious existence knew him by many names and titles such as Geist of the Soul Horde, Aself ein Surt, Darzalas Maar, Yuthatreider, Zagash the Black, the Silent King and many more. Here in the wastes of Zebrica and the immortal kingdom it was now a subject of, however, he was simply addressed as Lord.

“Archmage Lulamoon.” The patron of the pair greeted each in turn as they approached and respectfully knelt, his voice as cool and level as a frozen lake. “Grand Sorceress Glimmer. I did not expect you until later.”

“The mysteries of this world are no match for the Great and Powerful Trixie and her invaluable assistant.” The azure witch stood with a brilliant smile. “We have gained insight into the nature of Moon’s ‘New Populace’. Behold!”

“It is a corruption of the mind and body yet the soul remains pure.” Her mauve partner prefaced as she passed over her findings. “I got to give Moon credit; she did have a plan in place for after she snuffed the sun.”

“So it seems.” Grey said neutrally as he scanned over the report, his expression inscrutable. “Hmm… I do believe it is time we paid our dear Nightmare a visit. We have much to discuss.”